Hmm!! What Do You Think About Ghost With A Neighbor Who's A Pretty Milf? Like She Just Moved In Next

hmm!! what do you think about ghost with a neighbor who's a pretty milf? like she just moved in next door with her husband and he's completely entranced when he sees her walking outside of her home with her baby, seeing how gentle and sweet she was with the little infant, and how soft her coos were.. he's so in love :(

but he hears her soft whimpers at night when he listens to her fucking herself with a dildo bc her husband cannot satisfy her, always so mean to the poor beauty! and maybe he shows her how a real man gives her the pleasure she deserves ♡

YESSYESYESYES!! ugh homewrecker simon

this is the most i’ve written in months i love milf x simon

wasn’t surprised when someone moved into the street—especially right beside his own residence, but he was surprised when he had come back from the corner shop, and spotted you sat in the garden with the curious baby—your hands resting on your lap as the child babbled and played with the hem of your dress! his eyes immediately widening; fixating onto you and your pretty child, offering him a smile and a nod!!

head over heels! during his morning jogs, he would always stroll past(or through,) the park, always there with your child in the stroller; humming in contentment at the misty, yet clear weather!! how could a girl like you be allowed out here by herself, at these times of the mornin’? with such a beautiful body, n’hair, n’ face—

would definitely come over n sit beside you on the bench, starting conversation as he drank from his water bottle and learning so much about you within those short minutes! your daughter, gracie—was obviously the light of your life, only thing good that’s happened to you with your now—husband, which he is eager to punish for being so mean to you in all of the short tales you’d told him!

‘never really around anymore, sadly. but i have my girl.’

‘s’a shame, such a pretty wife n’ daughter n’ he’s not even caring for them properly? y’ deserve a real man.’

‘i mean..i love him, i really do.’

‘but does he love ‘y? doesnt seem like it; useless mutt.’

‘no idea.’

your husbands always working, so sometimes he’d come over just to give you some company, sitting with gracie as you went for a nap, or maybe even made dinner ( aswell as some buns, as a token of your gratification<3) totally adores the girl! letting her ask all of these questions about his scars, helping her put on her favourite movie, even taking her out to the park whenever you’re too busy to keep her occupied—he’s a nextdoor childminder for you! he adores you and the ground you walk on.

when he’s rustling in his bed, fingers combing over his blonde—outgrown buzz atop his head; blankets strewn across him lazily; thick brows furrowed as he carefully listened—was he hearing things?

‘oh—fuck..’

‘feels so good—m’gonnafuckincum-‘

‘simon—!’

was not !he couldn’t help but feel his cock jolt at your soft moan,which had echoed through the walls, hand stuffing into his shorts—he felt so nasty, jerking himself off to the sounds of your desperate bounces and whines, but who was he to stop when the perfect opportunity to cum while listening to you? shouting his name!

this was a once in a lifetime opportunity! he’d obviously wanted off to you before, why wouldn’t he? but he wish he had just heard you fuck yourself before; he’s been missin’ out! thinking of your pretty pussy moving up and down along his thick cock,pretty;full tits bouncing up and dow—

next day, he was so nice n considerate—offering to take gracie for the day while you got ur groceries in, husband obviously not present to care for his own daughter, so why not take that chance?

after ur child came back from school, he learnt from gracie that daddy calls mummy mean names sometimes, if he comes home late and she tries to ask something?

her fathers immediately snapping back at her, pushing past her, and ignoring poor poor gracie :(( holds her hand and takes the girl for ice cream! kissing her head n’ telling her it’s okay, her new daddy won’t do that.

when you come to collect her, you figure out she’s passed out in simons bed; snoring with one of her stuffies tucked under her shoulder, exhausted with chocolate smeared across her lips!!

that’s when he confronts you, looking down at your timid frame; eyes widening as he mentioned last nights noises—sobs and moans of his name, biting back a confident grin; thick brows furrowing and hands moving to cup your waist, groping your plush sides :((

‘s’okay, nothing t’be embarrassed about, you just need some sort of release, yeah?’

‘simon—‘

‘i know, prettygirl. i know, you wanna cum; cum properly, on a true man’s cock, yeah? don’t need no dildo to get off when i’m next door, i told you.’

‘i’m always here to help.’

that’s how he ended up on the sofa with you, your legs straddling his sides as he bounced you up and down along his length, fingers digging into the sides of your jiggly hips!! lips wrapped ‘round one of your pretty nipples—suckling at it desperately, so needy :(( finally getting to fuck you!! filled with excite ment, his fantasies coming true? fuck!

‘that’s it, mama..’

‘simon—oh god,oh godohgodohgod,feels so fuckin’ good!’

‘yeah? feels good gettin’ fucked by a real dick, don’t it?’

‘bloodyhell..feel so tight ‘round me, clenching so fuckin’ hard.’

the roll of his hips began, and before long it was speeding up—cock thrusting in and out of your slick cunt with such speed, his thumb circling your puffy clit; your lips parted and eyes half-shut!!

once you cum? he’s gone, the clench of your fluttering walls sending him over the brink—emptying his full balls into your begging cunny, kissing your neck so softly with his pink lips :((

afterwards, pale hands would help you with your clothes, making sure to keep all of his cum stuffed inside you though, can’t let you waste it, can he? washes his hands and clean himself up before heading to go wake gracie! lifting the child into his arms and hurrying down the stairs with her, cleaning her school uniform down with his hand, aswell as pulling her coat on her—how sweet!

‘make sure to help yr’ mummy when you get home, yeah? she’s got a tummyache.’

‘okay!’

‘bye, gracie. bye, love.’

‘bye daddy!’

let’s just say, you were immediately messaging him that night, asking when he’s free and telling him your husband won’t be round f’much longer <3

Pairing: Husband!Phillip Graves x F!reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings/tags: mdni. SMUT, porn w/o plot, fingering, riding, unprotected sex (p in v), no use of Y/N

"Love?" You ask softly, voice barely heard above the buzz of the TV. The side of your body rests on the doorframe, watching your husband's lost in thought expression as different colored lights flash on his face.

He's startled out of thought, not expecting you to be up so late. His eyes find your darkened figure and all he can give you is a tired smile.

"Can't sleep" his hand reaches for the remote and lowers the, already low, volume a little more "Didn't mean to wake you"

"No, just-" you start to explain, letting him know it wasn't his doing. Your arms hug your waist in an attempt to warm yourself, Phillip's flimsy shirt didn't serve as enough coverage when out of bed "Woke up and you weren't there"

"Sorry, darlin'" he replies with an apologetic frown. As his eyes adapt to the darkness, he notices your state: barely dressed; with only his shirt and, probably he thought, panties. His eyes traveled down your naked legs, stopping at the sight of your sockless feet changing weight, attempting not to freeze against the cold hardwood. "Come 'ere" he says as his arms raise, ready to welcome you in their embrace.

Pat-pat-pat is heard as your naked feet step on the floor, you quickly make your way to your husband's lap. You giggle at the action, the short sprint and jumping into Phillip's arms, his reclining chair rocking back and forth; and you're not sure if you kneed his thigh or if it was just the chair, but he didn't seem to care. He smiles and chuckles, the constant I love her thought never leaving his head.

You look at him as you settle on his lap, straddling his thighs– you secretly hope he doesn't notice the lack of underwear. His warm hands rest on your lower back.

"Wanna talk about it?" you ask, hoping the reason wasn't nightmares or worse, his own conscious mind.

He shakes his head, "No, not really". And you know he feels bad for denying you his worries, but there's things you simply should never know about, and you respect it.

"Hm" you hum, warm and sleepy but still aware. Your hands move along his arms and linger on his shoulders. Eyes locked on his, you lean and gently place a kiss on his forehead; sweet but not quite what Phillip wants.

One of his brows raise, questioning, you are barely able to notice it in the darkness of the room, TV lights covered by your form, but you pay it no mind. Your tongue swiftly swipes over your lip, a habit. Hands moving again, they creep over his neck until reaching his face, your thumbs caress his cheeks lovingly. You lean again, lips landing on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey..."

"... What?" You ask in a whisper, feigning ignorance. Your lips morph into a smile at his caution.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" He asks half jokingly, a smile of his own appearing on his face, enjoying thoroughly the gentle caress– the attention.

"Perhaps?" Caught in your intentions, you huff a tiny laugh but continue your ministrations, quickly leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose.

"Ah-" If you weren't as familiar as you are with how noisy your husband can be, you would've thought he sighed, almost frustrated; a protest. But you know better. A sweet, tiny moan, filled with expectation. It let's you know you're doing the right thing; arousing him, railing him up.

You watch his reaction carefully, noticing how his hips shift, how his breathing deepens, how his fingers dig a little deeper into your back. "You like that?" You ask breathy, teasingly, but he doesn't respond. The excitement palpable. Your gaze darts between his pretty eyes and his lips, but as tempted as you might be, you stick to your plan.

You swallow and lean in, lips dangerously close to his as you try to keep your cool. You get so close Phillip wonders if he's imagining the sensation of your lips in his, but he doesn't move, doesn't chase. Your mean lips land directly over his cupid's bow and you hear his breath hitches, hands desperately trying to pull you even closer.

If you were to be wearing panties, you are positively sure they'd be soaked.

You almost miss the breathless God that falls from Phillip's mouth, but the sound makes you so needy that you have to fight a protesting whimper against your own actions. Even if this was your idea, sometimes it surprises you just how strong your lust for your husband can be.

Bracing yourself, you strike again, kissing the corner of his mouth. You could feel the pace of his racing heart while your chests were flushed, he knew what you were doing and he was so turned on by it. He shifted on his seat again, this time with purpose– bucking his hips into yours to get any friction he could against your crotch. No panties he concludes, but the thought is quickly replaced by the angelic sound of a mewl; soft, needy, perfect.

You were so, so close.

"Please" he begs in a murmur, whining.

You close your eyes suddenly, his simple word like a thunder coursing through your body and lighting your cunt on fire. "Next one‐" you start between deep, heavy breaths, "This one's gonna be on the lips, hm?" You warn, expectation high.

He nods firmly as his eyes fight not to close. You move your hands to his neck, thumbs gently following the line of his jawbone while the rest of your fingers thread themselves with the hair of his nape, you were doing everything you could to put him more and more on edge. He groans at the feeling of your delicate fingers.

"Stay still for me, yes?" Your words no more than a whisper, reason no other than to drag this moment just a bit longer. But you knew it was a dumb request, in Phillip's mind there was nothing else than pure compliance– he was giving up control. It was far from a rare occurrence; Phillip leaving the situation in your hands to lead you both to play with pleasure in a slightly different way he would. So, he just waits and listens until you take what's rightfully yours.

The muscles on your thighs tense as you lift yourself off his lap, not much, but enough to look at your husband's face from above. You tilt his head upward and inhale deeply, cruelly taking your sweet time until you hear a, barely there, moan. You notice how his lips part in anticipation, his eyes unable to stay focused on one thing.

You dive in. Lips meeting his on a crashing kiss, wet and messy and so desperate. You moan into the kiss almost immediately, basking on the sensation and the taste of the lips you so much craved. Your arms hug around his neck as you sit directly over his growing, aching cock. You let your tongue venture into his mouth and you feel his heavy hands kneed the flesh of your ass, pushing your hips impossibly closer. You can feel how his chest rises and falls and you suddenly notice how you aren't even breathing, too engrossed to prioritize your own oxygen.

After a couple of seconds, you unwillingly start to pull away. Panting, you gently bite his lower lip and open your eyes to the fucked up expression of your husband– pupils blown, reddened lips. There's no words for a moment, no movement aside from the heavy breathing, the both of you silently processing what just happened. But you're not finished yet.

A sharp inhale breaks the trance, "What do you want, love?" You ask with urgency, "Hm?". You keep talking before he can even start to open his mouth "Want me to tire you out? To help you sleep?".

A long groan scapes Phillip's lips as he finds the strength to respond, a pathetic mumble of "I- I want" that you don't entertain. You cut him off, frowning while nodding in understanding; a condescending expression. But you are well aware of his needs– "Oh, I know baby" you reassure, "I'll take care of you, hm? That's what good wives do".

Your words make desire spark in Phillip's body, a proud smirk spread over his face at the mention of wife. Such an easy-to-please partner, the mere remembrance of your relationship status enough to put him in a good mood. You dive in again, peck after peck over his soft lips, working as a distraction while your hands travel down his toned torso, swiftly finding the strings of his sweatpants and untying it– fingers dive past his boxer's waistband freeing his pretty cock. An amused hum leaves your mouth at the sight, one you could never get tired of. Phillip's mouth falls open as you work languid strokes on him, still delivering sweet little kisses; peppering from his lips down to his jaw and neck, showing your reverence to every inch of skin available until you hear your husband moan, long and sweet. As much as you would love to make him cum here and now, you can't let him have fun alone– your hand stops abruptly and you nearly chuckle at the objecting groan that left Phillip's throat. "Sorry baby" you coo at him, but quickly explain your action by sitting back and hastily grabbing the hem of your – his – shirt, undressing and throwing it to the side.

His hands wander all over your body, marveling over the now naked skin; eyes shamelessly glued to your chest. He pulls you closer to him, his lips landing between your tits, aiming to start working your nipples with his experienced tongue, just how you like it. But you don't let him, not now. Your hands gently push him back against his chair and he looks at you like a kicked puppy– How dare you not let him suck your tits?

Your fingers wrap around the flesh of his wrist, ripping his hand off your hip and guiding it sensually up your torso. He looks mesmerized as you take two of his digits into your mouth, wetting them with saliva even though you're sure you don't need extra lubrication– your slick covered cunt more than ready to receive attention. You smirk mischievously as you take them out of your mouth with a lewd pop and he moans, breafly wishing it was his cock instead. His pretty blues follow every movement, every action; they watch how you take his hand down your body tentatively slow, making his fingers graze your skin and shivering at the sensation. They watch how your mouth falls open as his fingertips ghost over your navel, down over your clit. His pretty blues watch, through shuddering lids, how you rotate his hand and desperately push it upon your cunt, uncaring of the lack of technique applied, just craving his touch.

"Ah-" you moan as your clit feels the pressure of his palm's heel, brows furrowed while you squeeze his wrist, urging him to please you himself. Phillip catches on immediately, too used to your behavior. His hand separates mere centimeters from your heat to bend its wetted fingers and circle them around your needy hole before sinking, knuckle deep, into your cunt. Your head falls back, a satisfied hum sounding through your throat as you bite your lip.

"Don't even need prep, darlin'" he says with a chuckle, his fingers entering your heat with little resistance– still, he lingers a little longer to get you used to him. He takes his hand away, swiftly bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. God, he's hot.

You sigh at the new emptiness, dizzy with desire. Suddenly, a firm hand wraps around his length, drawing a surprised gasp out of Phillip. You rise to your knees again, cunt eagerly awaiting as you move his tip around your wetness, nudging your clit and making it circle your hole, just like he did with his fingers. His hands fall to your thighs, massaging the flesh as a last resort to keep sanity, your constant teasing driving him crazy by the second.

You sink, seatting yourself completely on his cock.

Phillip's nails dig into your thighs as a loud moan rips through his lips, finally able to feel what he knew he was getting the moment you started with your provoking kisses. His ears fill with your little moans, full of pleasure as his girthy cock nudges its way deep within your walls, deep enough to kiss your cervix. It's fast and impatient, the way your pussy swallows his length in one go– as if you lacked time, as if being rushed.

You sit still for a couple of seconds, tight pussy getting used to the fullness your husband's cock provides. There's no words, they're not needed. Both set of eyes lock onto each other, they take in the state you both are left in: fucked– you feel how Phillip's fingers dig even more into your thighs, how his needy dick twitches inside of you, you notice how his back is slightly arched off the backrest, how his chest heaves. On the other hand, Phillip feels your muscles tensing, your cunt clamping on him like a vice, he sees your puffy, bitten lips, moonlight coming through the window and illuminating you like the angel that you are; for him, at least. He watches as your face gets closer to his and your mouth takes his own, kiss lasting a mere second.

He tries to chase after your lips but you lean back, hands finding his knees, arms locking behind you and supporting your weight as you wickedly roll your hips into his.

"Hmm so good " you say honey thick, laced with lust.

His eyes snap shut at the feeling, all too good but you know it's not enough. Your hands squeeze as you start to lift yourself, brows furrowing in pleasure before you sink back, heavy– testing the waters. A shaky sigh it's all you get. Still not enough, huh? you think, but you take it as a challenge. In Phillip's mind, he couldn't stop cursing himself; too focused on not cumming early as his sweet wife was trying exactly the opposite. He was fucked, he knew, when he opened his eyes and saw that expression in your face, the one you wear when you're not satisfied with something, with an outcome. Maybe when he steeled himself to last longer, too into his head to express correctly the heavenly pleasure you bestowed upon him, you took his, rather tame, reaction as something else. But, well, not much he can do about it now.

Phillip swallows thickly, readying himself. His hands glide across your thighs up to your asscheeks, partly because he loves your ass, partly because he wants to have a good grip around your hips may things go too crazy. You smirk, devilish, before starting a relentless rhythm; your body bounces up and down on his cock, stoping abruptly and sitting yourself fully on him for a couple of seconds while grinding your hips, only for it to start again. Phillip isn't sure if he's in heaven or hell, but, knowing better, he moans and hums and groans unabashedly as you give your best to work him to completion.

"C'mon baby, c'mon baby, c'mon baby... Fuuck " your husband's plea bleeds into a lusty hum as he hugs your hips close to his when you take one of your little breaks, basking in the pleasure– he's completely sure your thighs are on fucking fire but you don't seem to mind. Such a good wife.

"Touch yourself baby," he commands, tone dominant "Show me"

In a show of amazingly fast shift in dynamics, you comply immediately. One of the hands that was on his knees is between your burning thighs and giving your husband what he asked for. He moves his hands slightly up, supporting your lower back and hips with his hands and forearms, providing extra help so you can keep the ruthless pace. He leans back as much as he can, just to watch you work yourself– your digits massage your clit in tight circles, trying as best as they can to time it with the bouncing. The sudden addition of stimulation drives you stupidly close to orgasm, and Phillip knows it.

"'M close-" you blabber in a blissful daze, mind so focused on the pleasure that you feel your body move on autopilot, mind and body two separate entities, one made to receive and the other to give– your mind eager for pleasure and your body working overtime to give it to you.

In a moment of clarity, you remember your husband. Not that you could forget, bouncing up and down on his cock, but it is true that you promised to take care of him. Feeling slightly guilty about the sudden shift in focus, you open your beady eyes to watch him, to assess his state, hoping he's as close to coming as you are.

"Yeah?" He replies breathlessly to your warning, eyes never straying from your soaking cunt; her clit being played with while his big cock spears her open, such a champ.

"Mhm" you nod, your senses overwhelmed. A long groan from Phillip lets you know what you were so worried about, he's definitely close. You retreat your fingers from your clit, hand returning to his knee and keeping you steady, helping you completely focus on his impending orgasm. You can see how he's not please by your action, but you don't care; you can cum after him. His breathing starts to stutter, eyelids fluttering while his mouth falls open, letting loose shameless moans that he can't, and doesn't care to, control– you take the cue, tightening your walls around him in the rhythm of your bouncing.

He spills inside of you with a throaty groan, his hands and arms holding you tight as his whole body stiffens. His hips jerk up, chasing your own as you lower yourself on his cock. You feel the warm cum start to slide out of you, and you take the opportunity to, again, bring your fingers to your clit and finish the job. It doesn't take much, a couple of fast, tight circles over it have you whimpering as you come undone on his cock, the spasms of your walls making Phillip's eyes to snap shut. You can feel Phillip's breath hit against your chest as he pants, and soon after you fall completely limp over his chest.

"Careful" he says softly as he leans back on the chair, cradling you between his strong arms. He sighs, hands moving up and down your back in a soothing manner, letting the comforting silence engulf you both as you come down from your respective highs.

After some seconds, or minutes, you're not sure, and when both's racing pulses had calmed down, Phillip breaks the silence.

"Don't fall asleep on me now, sweetheart" you can hear the smug smirk in his tone, cocky bastard. You place a hand on his chest to help you push yourself out of his embrace, sitting straight– you feel how your thigh muscles twitch in pure exhaustion and a fleeting it's gonna hurt like a bitch later crosses your mind.

"Can we?" you ask softly. "Go to sleep, I mean"

"Hm" Phillip hums, resting his hands on your dying thighs "'Course"

You smile at his response and look him directly in the eyes, as if waiting for him to notice something. After a couple of seconds, he seems to get it "Should I carry you...?"

"Mhm" you reply plainly before chuckling. Your arms move to hug around his neck as he grabs under your thighs and gets up, heading to the bedroom.

Maybe you should worry about getting clean, or getting your husband's softening cock out of you, but you can't muster the energy to really care.

Neighborly- Part I

starting a fluffy lil fic inspired by @hereforthepedrofanfic who was kind enough to entrust me with her idea for a story about price and a fat reader. the idea was just so, so delicious i couldn't just do a little drabble or one-shot, so it'll be a multi-part fic of you and your neighbor, john price, slowly getting to know each other over the holidays.

(again, my deepest gratitude for handing me this concept, and having faith that i would do your vision justice.)

A loud crash in your living room wakes you up in the middle of the night, followed by the yowls of your cat, Stuntman Dan. Little shit definitely knocked something over, and it probably needs attended to before you fall asleep and step on broken glass or whatever in the morning. You sigh and force yourself to leave the warm cocoon of your covers, tossing your legs over the edge of the bed, thanking god and your shitass landlords that you have soft carpet to step across and not frigid hardwood. You trudge out of your bedroom and flip on the lights on your path to assess the carnage, squinting into the too bright and too sudden lights as you try to evaluate the damage. Dan is on the couch curled up next to Crab Bucket and Absolutely Not, your other two cats, all acting like nothing is wrong. Liars. Your little potted cactus is on the floor, surrounded by a heap of soil and a broken pot. Could be worse, you suppose, but you still don't appreciate it. Not at this time in the morning, when the sky outside your windows is still black, only slightly illuminated by the light pollution of the city around you reflecting on low clouds.

"I love you guys, but you're all terrible. Just rotten little goblins. Especially you, mister man." You say with love to Stuntman Dan as you gingerly pick up your prickly little plant, scooping up the loose dirt on the floor with your fingers and shoving it all in a coffee mug. It'll just have to do for now, you're not going to wake your neighbors by running a vacuum at ass-o-clock in the morning. You'll just have to hope your trio of small criminals doesn't track dirt all over your apartment before you have the chance to properly clean up.

Gently, you put your displaced little cactus by the kitchen sink, scrubbing a hand over the back of your neck as you debate just making coffee and staying up or going back to bed. Sun'll be up in two, maybe three hours, and your workday will begin not long after that. This might be the only quiet time during your day, what with the holiday rushes coming up at work. You start up the coffee maker, figuring that if you change your mind about sleep you'll just shove the pot in the fridge and drink it iced later. A light from outside turns on and pulls your attention away from sleepily staring at the stain on your kitchen counter.

There's an apartment directly across from yours, located on the other side of a small alley between your two buildings. A man lives there, you've seen him a few times through your kitchen window as you've done dishes. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a handsome face. Hell of a view, if you're being honest. You'd taken this apartment in desperation, when money was at it's lowest and you needed a place to stay. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine the kinds of perks to living in this place would include hunk sightings. He's turned on his light, moving around sleepily in his kitchen as you observe from your own.

You can't help but watch as your neighbor lumbers around his kitchen in a half-daze, his hair slightly askew as he blinks long and slow to chase away his obvious tiredness while he waits for his kettle to finish boiling water. You can't help but admire the way his plain white shirt stretches across his shoulders, and the way his grey sweatpants seem to strain around thick thighs. The man's a specimen, no two ways about it. You don't know anything about him, really, other than the fact that he drinks tea, lives in your neighborhood, and is extremely attractive. You've never spoken to him, caught his name, or even seen him outside his own kitchen. It's a shame, really, but in an area as rough as yours, it's not the kind of place you go around introducing yourself to the neighbors. Plus he's, y'know, hot, and you're just a fat girl with a dead end job and three cats. Odds are pretty high that you aren't his type anyways. Still, his type or not, it doesn't mean you can't steal a glance or two at him.

In the quiet stillness of early morning, as your kitchen fills with the warm and familiar smell of cheap drip coffee, it almost feels like a holy thing, getting to observe this man in his natural habitat. There's something engaging about watching his shoulder blades move under that tight shirt as he opens and closes cabinets, pulling out a teapot and mug, gently setting them both on the little card table he eats at. His hands are so big, jesus. That mug looks so tiny. It's hard not to stare, really. The combination of watching a handsome man being so painfully domestic as he starts making toast while his tea steeps just outside your window and having fuckall else to look at just makes it too easy to zone out as you idly wonder if his chest is as hairy as his arms. You hope so. Fuck, he looks good. It's hard not to fantasize over having him in your space, moving around each other as your make your preferred versions of hot, liquid caffeine and settling in together to blow at the steam and discuss your day's agenda.

God, you miss being a girlfriend. You're so good at it, too, it's really a shame nobody is taking advantage of your doting and loving nature right now. You'd give anything to have someone to sleep next to, to share your dinners with, to help you cat wrangle. Maybe it's silly to put this kind of pressure on a non-existent partner, but you really do think that having someone around to dote on, and to dote on you in return, would make life a lot more bearable. It's been a couple of years since you've had anything like that, and while you're not at all interested in taking your ex back, you do miss having someone to cuddle with on the couch and split chores with. Maybe you should re-download Tinder. Maybe you should join a singles group. Maybe you should just buy a giant body pillow with a hot celebrity printed on it and save yourself the stress and heartache of Tinder and singles groups.

You wonder what it is that has your neighbor up and about at this time in the morning. It's so damn early, not even the sun is up yet. You wonder if he's got a job with weird hours, or if he's back from a long trip and still dealing with time zones. Maybe he's just a morning person? Or maybe he's got a long drive ahead of him and it trying to get an early start. It's almost fun to sit and hypothesize about this stranger, like a kitchen table Poirot or Columbo, except you don't have the slightest idea what's going on. His apartment seems relatively bare, the only decoration that you can see is a plain analog clock that painfully reminds you that you really ought to be back in bed. Everything else is standard- no photos, no posters, not even refrigerator magnets. Maybe his apartment is just a crash pad? Someplace to sleep in between long business trips or maybe even a place to crash during business trips to the city? You have noticed that sometimes his apartment is dark for weeks on end, maybe he's a pilot or something.

Time passes, enough for your coffee to brew and his tea to steep. You don't even know how long you've been staring out your kitchen window at him, your elbow propped up on your kitchen table with your face resting in your palm. There's a gentle nudge at your leg, which snaps you out of your reverie. Absolutely Not, your beautiful grey tabby hellion queen, is headbutting you, her version of 'pick me up and cuddle me, idiot'. You scoop her up in your arms, and she gives you loud, rumbling purrs as she snuggles against you, rubbing her face against your shoulder as she gets comfortable. What a love sponge. Absolutely Not and her siblings are easily the best and worst thing going in your life right now. Work is a dead-end that barely pays bills and eats up all your time, your friends have mostly all moved away for school and are too busy to text much, and the closest you have to a social life is people watching as you take the bus to and from your job. Every day is monotony, broken up by people getting buckwild on public transportation and your cats doing cute or aggravating things in your small apartment.

"Oh Nottie, what are we gonna do?" You ask the yellow eyed ball of fur in your arms, as if she has the answers to finding a work/life balance that you're not entirely sure is possible. She merely chirps at you in response, an 'I don't know, Mom', if you've ever heard one. You sigh and press her to your cheek, and like the hellion she is, she bats at your nose and squirms to get away like being held was never her idea in the first place. You gently dump her back onto the floor and she trots back off to her siblings, probably to complain about the injustice of being snuggled for half a second longer than she'd wanted.

You scrub at your face as you get to your feet to stare at your coffee pot, deciding whether or not you need the extra few hours of sleep today. You glance back over to your hot neighbor, who's sitting down to sip his toast and drink his tea in the darkness of the early morning. He looks perfectly relaxed, like there's nothing he'd rather be doing before the sun come up than sipping his steaming mug and relaxing in a chair that looks comically small under him.

His head turns, and suddenly he's looking right at you, lifting his mug in greeting with a small smile on his face and a gentle nod. Busted. It's mortifying, really, getting caught like this. Your face heats up, and you bashfully, shamefully raise your hand in greeting before you grab the coffee pot and shove it in the fridge. It wasn't fully done, and you can hear the hiss of dripping coffee evaporate as it hits the hot plate underneath it. He's made up your mind for you, you're going to bury yourself under your covers and try to sleep so you can forget the mortification of a rugged smoke show like him catching you being a bit of a creep. You flip off the lights, pad back to bed, throw the covers over yourself, and yell into the pillow until your nerves settle a bit. Fucking humiliating. You can only hope he chalks it up to early morning sleepy disassociation staring and not the fact that you were definitely, obviously ogling him like a piece of meat. Ugh. You flip onto your side and scrunch up your face, trying to will your embarrassment away enough that you can get a little extra sleep before your day well and truly begins.

NEXT

Cooking From The Heart

WC-1.8K

Warnings: Mentions of minor injury basically fluff

Notes: Reader has tinnitus, GN! Reader, no use of Y/N, established relationship with John Price

Placing the key into the ignition your car roars to life, your hand moves to the console to turn up the music for the radio preparing yourself for a long day. The car is piled to the brim with groceries ready to cook a feast for four hungry men. Pulling out of the parking lot you start to drive from London to the English countryside where the lone military base sits. As you drive you can’t help but reminisce on the past and how fortunate you are to have such an amazing life.

Joining the military at the ripe age of eighteen you met John Price, your rival, a man that always got on your nerves. Despite how good of a soldier he was he constantly had to outshine you whilst being blunt, hard headed, and a little cocky. You rose through the ranks with him, each promotion with him standing by your side getting the same title much to your dismay. As years pass you both set aside your differences becoming friends despite past bickering, soon after that John took your hand into his on a warm summer night in a safe house asking you to be his girlfriend. 

A long loud ring reverberates from your ears as the radio cuts out pulling you out of your memories, out of the past. A memory rushes through your mind reminding you of the bitter memory as to what changed your life for the better or worse.You and the boys were out fighting the cartel in Las Almas when a stun grenade rolled right to your feet. The flash blinded you and the ringing in your ears was deafening, but unlike the others the ringing in your ears never ceased. Due to tinnitus you were honorably discharged from the military cutting your career short. As you sat home alone you felt as though your life, your family was ripped away, it was hard not having the harsh routine of war in your life. The others and John tried their best to support you but nothing seemed to pull you out from the pit. But it all changed when you decided to go back to your old base to make home cooked meals for the men you loved. It made you feel connected again with those who fought by your side, it filled the hole in your heart. Since then you made it a weekly ritual when they were at base to cook for them.

Driving up to the guards of the base you smile pulling out your ID as usual despite how they were once under your command and how you visit weekly. You park your car and pick up a couple bags of groceries to bring into the community kitchen to start making dinner, it takes a couple trips to bring in all the bags due to the sheer amount of food you bought. You look at the analog clock to see it's only noon but it's essential to start early, needing every precious minute to cook or else they’d be eating at midnight. Turning on the radio you start to prep all the ingredients making sure to wash every vegetable there is, you mix the sauces and cut the herbs so the food will taste immaculate. 

Your mind drifts again, smiling softly as you remember the best day of your life. John held your hand softly guiding you through a small park nearby your shared flat until you saw the soft glow of candle lights illuminating the path ahead. Walking together hand in hand along the glowing trail until you reached a clearing where the moon was bright reflecting off the pond in front of you. You admired the scene getting lost in the moment until you looked back at John who was on his knee with a ring asking if you’d be his one and only.

Looking outside of the window you see the sun setting along with the sounds of boots shuffling against the floor, low playful banter echo through the halls and their baritone voices seem to shake the thin walls of the base. The voices become more clear as the men slowly enter the rec room, Soap's iconic accent rings out after a dramatic sniff of the air.

“Smells delicious charaid I oughta get tha’ recipe from you onea these day”, the scot says with an infectious smile. He moves in close attempting to dip his finger into the soup to have a taste. Before he could even attempt it you lightly smack his hand with a wooden spoon shaking your head as you continue to prep dinner, “Nuh uh Mactavish you’re not having a taste of the soup until it's done and all of you get washed up.”

A chuckle comes from Gaz as he grabs Soap by the collar dragging him away from the delectable pot of soup in front of them saying teasingly, “Y’know that our former Captain will never let you have a taste before its done, and they are right we’re pretty gross from training last one to the showers has to organize the armory”. With that the two sergeants sprint out of the rec room jeering and poking fun at each other. 

You chuckle at the childish sight feeling a familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. Without you even looking up to see who it is you say softly, “Hello Simon'', there's a moment of silence before the mans gruff voice responds quietly, “How are you holdin’ up captain?” disguised to know if you were ok mentally, a sign that he cared.

A small smile forms on your lips as you turn to look at the man that many fear, the ghost of 141. His eyes soften slightly as he sees the smile on your lips. “I’ve been good, sometimes it gets lonely back at the flat without you guys running around it but I've been waiting all week to see you guys again”, he nods before leaving the rec room getting the answer he wanted to hear heading to the showers just like his sergeants.

A single pair of boots walk towards you stopping right behind you, without any fear you lean back into the man's chest looking up at him. His beard is perfectly groomed as usual and his beautiful blue eyes look into yours. A small tired smile appears on his face as he leans down to kiss the crown of your head mumbling, “I missed you love”, his strong arms snake their way around your waist pulling you in closer. You turn your head to  the side of his cheek before returning to cooking dinner, enjoying the feeling of your husband holding you close. “I missed you to lovie”. Despite him seeing you every morning and everynight back at home, any time away from you was painful for him.

He stands behind you holding you close for a while enjoying your presence against his tired body. Slowly one of his hands reaches out to grab a piece of food still cooking before you take his hand into yours, stopping his attempt. Squeezing his hand before bringing it up to your lips to kiss softly you say teasingly, “You may be the Captain of this team but that doesn’t make you exempt from the rules big man”, he only laughs and kisses your cheek responding with a cheeky grin “We both know you can’t stay angry at me for long and who is the one that always got in trouble for breaking the rules while we were privates? Oh wait I think it was you”. You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully before playful shoving him off of your body, “I’m sorry love but you're drenched in sweat and smell bad, you need to go head to the showers or else I’m not saving you a plate. Dinner should be ready by the time everyones out.” John chuckles before kissing your cheek softly saying softly in his gruff voice, “Roger that captain I’ll go take a shower you better save me a plate”, he shuffles away leaving you alone in the kitchen yet again. 

The soft music from the radio playing in the background dulls the ringing in your ears and fills the lonely space. Searching through the many bags you brought to the base you finally  find the nice tablecloth, you spread it out and place it over the rickety old dining room table. As the music flows you place each plate, fork, and knife with care despite knowing it’ll be used to destroy the table cloth underneath them. You place the food onto the kitchen table due to the sheer amount of food there is, as you set down some vegetables you hear the jovial conversations of the team coming in ready to eat. 

Gaz lets out a low whistle, “Damn you really cooked your ass off huh”, you wipe your hands off on a towel before saying with a smile, “Only for my boys no one else gets the pleasure of having a taste”. The men start to gather around before you say, “Before everyone eats, no weapons at the table. Other soldiers can worry about war but right now it's dinner time, time for you to be men and not soldiers”

They place the weapons on a table nearby, their knives and pistols sit neatly so they can easily grab them just in case.  Soap looks up at you and says curiously, “We all know tha’ you don’t want knives at tha table but is there a reason as ta why?”. You look up at him and say frankly with a smile, “well I just want you guys to be relaxed for once, letting your worries go enjoying a nice dinner. Along with the time you tried to do a knife trick at the table and almost sliced off your finger” the men around Soap laugh. Ghost slaps Soap’s back playfully, “You were cryin’ like a baby Johnny, screamin’ out for the medic running around like a chicken without a head”.You join in with the laughter feeling the stresses of the week melt off your shoulders.

With a wide smile you announce happily, “Alright guys dig in”, Soap is the first to pick up his plate piling his food up onto the plate with the others right behind him doing exactly the same. John walks up to you with two plates, handing one of them to you, “Thank you love for making all of this food” you look up at him with a smile, “it's nothing John, I love doing this. It's the highlight of my week.” John allows you to go in front of him to get your food. You sit down at the table and John sits next to you, carefree conversations are made between the men and you as they start to eat their food. Their smiles and laughter are as precious as gold to you. This is your family, this is home and there is no greater joy in your life than to be eating dinner with the people you love most.

Can we have sex

Literally name the time and the place and I'm there <33

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