wrong number, no problem! (Patreon)

synopsis: so you accidentally sent your annoying neighbor your nudes instead of your situationship...who would've thought instead of hating you, he was secretly harboring a crush?

pairing: nerdy neighbor x insecure f!reader x yandere!situationship

wc: 4.4k

content: smut, porn with plot, nudes, flirting, teasing, tension, piv sex, cowgirl style, reverse cowgirl, jealousy, kissing/making out, getting interrupted, mentions of sleeping around/casual sex, reader is lowk insecure but still getting laid lol, man whimpering, obsessive man meddling

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dumb: fuck i miss you. send pics?

dumber: Can you keep it down? I’m trying to study. 

Okay, yeah, you could’ve been more careful with who you sent what to. But it wasn’t like you meant to send the dorky dickhead next door a faceless photo of your little lacey bra and your hand slipped beneath the matching panties while your playlist for getting fucked still played in the background. 

It wasn’t like you intended to get your situationship and your neighbor mixed up. 

Staring blankly at your phone once the man who was supposed to be receiving it sent you a bunch of question marks back, hoping every time you opened your eyes that you would be seeing a different set of messages. 

One that didn’t include you telling him to go fuck himself. 

Shit. 

You swiped back, but your finger hovered over the other chat, trying to steel yourself before you sucked it up and sent the whole ‘wrong person’ explanation to the last person you wanted to embarrass yourself in front of. 

Not because you wanted to impress him. 

No, because it would mean you were losing the war you’d both been waging from the first day he moved in last year. 

God, you actually thought he was cute at first. 

Captured by his crooked smile, listening to his warm laugh as you paused outside your door, key jingling in the lock as you thanked the universe for letting a hot stranger move next door instead of some creep. He had an equally attractive friend with him too, although instead of a loose t-shirt proudly showing off some cartoon character you never heard of before, he was wearing a tight compression tee, one that clung to his chest and showed off his muscles. 

It only took a glance to see through the dynamic they had. 

Childhood best friends, probably, the kind that knew each other for years, brothers without sharing blood no matter how far their paths started to stray. The shy, nerdy one and his confident, composed companion. 

You’d prefer the virgin over the playboy. 

Dorky guys were more your type. You weren’t really outgoing, didn’t feel comfortable putting yourself out there or going to bars or bookstores by yourself when you never really figured out how to flirt. God, you’d never actually had a boyfriend before either. Guys usually kept you hanging for a few dates, maybe long enough to fuck, and then they forgot about you. You were used to watching from the sidelines. Studying how people interacted and making plans on what you’d do in situations that never came. 

Until you saw him and made a split second decision to do something for once. 

You told yourself you were just trying to be a good person. Clearing your throat as you forced yourself to smile, holding out your hand when you caught him carrying a big box through the door. You were halfway through offering to help when he dropped the fucking thing on your foot. 

Way to get off on the wrong one. 

A broken pinky toe and an evening in the emergency room wasn’t that unforgivable. 

But when you came back the next morning to overhear him on the phone with his friend from before, mumbling that you were probably just approaching them for his attention anyway. 

Sure, you came over hoping to get a phone number, but did you really look like the type to throw yourself at a neighbor just to get his friend who looked like he had ten girls ready to blow him at any given moment? 

He didn’t call you a loser. 

But it felt like that’s what he was saying anyway. 

He shut up when he saw you scowling at him, dragging your hurt foot behind the other as you unlocked your door. You ignored his attempts at an apology and slammed the door behind you back then. 

A tupperware container stuffed full of cookies showed up at your door two days later. 

Who would’ve thought you’d get fucking food poisoning after you ate a couple?  

Maybe it was petty, but you started picking up his packages and limping down the hall to drop them off and spritzing them with stupid fart spray to hopefully make his place stink when he brought it back in. 

The noise complaints came next. Him pounding on the thin wall you shared or you calling the leasing office, trading issue after issue to tempt the other into moving out. 

You thought you were winning after he left an irritated note taped to your door last week, blaming you for barely letting him sleep, a bunch of frowny faces tacked underneath his name when you left his messages on read. He’d gotten your number from the office a while ago, demanding it under the guise of settling your problems privately. 

Completely clueless that he could’ve asked his friend for it instead. 

Admittedly, you never really considered that a guy like that might actually be interested in you. Not until he caught you sticking an annoyed sticky note to his door, picking it back off and reading your complaint over how loud his tv was in a dramatic voice, surprisingly playful as he leaned against the doorframe and asked for your name, apparently amused with the whole feud thing. 

He left with your number. 

After a few days of texting, he was slipping from his friend’s place into yours, bending you over your bed and burying himself in your pussy with a handful of pretty whispers. 

You knew he didn’t really like you like you. 

But it felt like one extra little screw you to the guy next door. 

Fucking his best friend right under his nose – right after he probably bitched and whined about you to him too. 

And now, everything you’d been working for had unraveled, your hoodie falling down your frame as you stared at the three bubbles on the screen as he typed, deleted, and re-typed. 

You swiped away, already mentally doing the math on how much it would cost to break your lease and fuck off to some new apartment on the other side of the city, as far away from him as you could get now that he saw your hand down your panties. 

How the hell were you supposed to show your face? Would he snicker if he passed by you on the stairs? Laugh to all his friends about the idiot next door who sent him her nudes? 

God, he probably thought this was some play for attention – that everything had been. 

Your phone buzzed. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were picking it up to see what he said. 

Only, uh, he didn’t say anything. 

He sent a video back. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight of his goddamn abs. Toned and defined, standing out despite how pale his skin was. A familiar t-shirt tucked between his teeth, a bulge clearly outlined in his light gray sweatpants, pressed up against the thin fabric and practically demanding your attention. His hand slowly slipped down past the waistband to palm it, your lips pathetically parting as you felt drool begin to unhelpfully pool beneath your tongue. 

You guessed he must hit the gym with his friend if he was hiding all of this. And before you snapped back to your senses, you were unclasping your bra with one hand, tossing it onto the ground and carefully angling your phone to snap a second photo, this one with your thumb carefully disguising your nipple before you clicked it and hit send. 

Shit. 

You regretted it the second you heard your phone buzz again, internally cringing as you covered it up with your blanket like that could erase what you had just done. 

Pacing the floor and pretending you hadn’t done it, convincing yourself that maybe he had a few drinks, that he didn’t realize it was you, that maybe you’d get lucky and he’d forget the whole thing in the morning. 

But then someone knocked on your door and you knew that you really truly, totally screwed. 

What if you just didn’t answer? 

Ignored it until he went away? 

Irritatingly enough, the knocking and the buzzing didn’t stop. Alternating, actually, your phone unhelpfully humming and only falling silent when the annoying tapping on your door picked back up. 

You thought he’d leave after ten minutes. 

But when fifteen passed, you were gritting your teeth and flipping the lock after throwing a t-shirt on, ignoring the heat burning underneath your cheeks as you threw the door open to find your neighbor impatiently waiting on the other side.

He still had a boner. 

His erection fully pressed against his sweatpants and his phone in his hand, his own face flushed pink as his brows furrowed tightly together. 

“What took so long?” He asked, undeterred by your scowl. 

“I was waiting for you to take the hint and leave,” you grumbled. 

“What the hell is this then?” He asked, his voice low as he shoved up his glasses and presented the photo of your tits back to you as you stiffly shrugged your shoulders. 

“It wasn’t for you,” you swallowed hard, biting your bottom lip.  

“Who was it for?” He haughtily said, his glasses slipping right back down in the same position it had just been as he leaned against your doorframe, dangerously close to actually stepping inside for the first time since he moved in. 

You hated him. 

Hated hated hated yourself for thinking that he looked hot like this, that his stupid know-it-all smirk was working on you when you spent so long trying to loathe him. 

“None of your business,” you stubbornly insisted, hoping he didn’t catch the way your breath got stuck in your throat when he leaned in. 

“Then why’d you send a second pic?” He arched up an eyebrow, and you wanted to shave it off of him. Both of them, really, do something to make him less attractive when his appearance had you contemplating calling a truce. 

“Why did you send one at all?” You retorted, returning a question to avoid answering him. 

“Because I’ve been waiting months for this.” 

It wasn’t fair how swiftly he managed to shut you up. 

To scrub away the last bit of sense you had left as you stared at him, waiting for a gotcha! moment or for him to take it back. 

“You waited months for me to send you a nude?” You slowly spoke, still sure he was going to laugh at you for it even as you echoed his sentiment. 

“I mean, I was hoping something would happen sooner or later,” he shrugged his broad shoulders, and he was so close that you had to take a step back, although that only led to him stepping in – and shutting the door behind him. 

You almost told him to get out. To go back to his place and pretend none of this happened. 

But your mouth betrayed you. 

“Do you have a crush on me?” You deadpanned, holding your breath as your stare flicked over to his phone – tempted to take it from him and scrub the evidence of tonight from it. 

“Why do you look like you’re gonna slap me if I say yes?” He frowned, and the fact that you found it a little adorable was nearly enough to make you slap him now. He was so close, hardly six inches away, his frame seeming so much bigger in your tiny entryway. 

“Is that a yes?” You retorted. 

“I, uh-” He squinted as he stammered, struggling to actually say it as your mouth opened. “You do like me,” you breathed. Even after the rude notes you left and the mean messages you exchanged and the stupid shit you pulled with packages and deliveries – he still liked you. 

“Haven’t we been, like, flirting?” He asked, confusion etched into the lines of his face as he cocked his head to the side. 

“Flirting?” You incredulously echoed, feigning disinterest to disguise the parts of you that were enthralled by him. “What did you-” 

“I just figured you were a tsundere,” he sheepishly said, his mouth pressing together in a thin line like he still thought that and didn’t get your denials. 

“You’re serious?” You exhaled, not sure if you should be exasperated or enticed by his idiocy. 

Terrified at how much of you was leaning towards the latter. 

Especially when he evidently got all his experience from animes and mangas judging by how seriously he called you a tsundere. 

“So you don’t like me?” He asked, bottom lip pushed out as you bit your own. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

You didn’t even know.

This morning, you would have laughed in his face and mocked the notion that you could ever have a crush on him. Right now? With his boner practically staring at you and heat coiling in your core at his roundabout confession? 

You were hesitating. 

Curious to take him for a ride and see if maybe you had him all wrong from the start. Reconsidering every interaction you shared and weighing the risks of letting him into your bed. Would you win if you let him inside of you? Or would you still feel like a loser? 

“What do I have to do to keep your attention on me then?” He grumbled, pushing up his glasses again as his sharp jaw locked. 

And in a long line of mistakes, you figured there wasn’t much harm in making another one, impulsively grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging him down to press a messy kiss to his lips. 

You supposed he was simply stunned when he went completely still. Frozen in place even when you broke away, pulling back with your fingers still wrinkling his shirt, staring at you dumbfounded. 

“You’re gonna stretch my shirt,” he muttered, and you let go, about to retort that he wasn’t even a good kisser – but before you could get the words out, he was kissing you again. 

A soft hand caressing your cheek, stumbling backwards as his tongue slipped past your open lips. 

You could tell he didn’t have a lot of experience. 

But he wasn’t bad. 

No, it actually felt pretty fucking good to be kissed so fervently, his tongue tracing your teeth and exploring your mouth as he kept pushing you back until he reached your bed. You twisted around and pushed him down on it, straddling his lap as you climbed on top of him. 

His cock was throbbing the second you were on top of it. Pulsing as you rubbed down on him, leaning forward so your chest was pressed against his chest, the connection making all your nerves light up as his free hand traced down the side of your body. 

He held you differently than his friend did. 

More cautious. More curious. 

Like he wanted to get to know every inch of you but wasn’t sure you wanted him to see it. There was something tender to his touch, tentative as his thumb drifted along your cheekbone and his tongue tried to claim you. 

He only broke the kiss to toss off your shirt, his mouth hanging open and a little bit of drool dribbling out the corner at the sight of your breasts. Before you could say something snarky, he was readjusting you in a single swift motion, pulling you up more so he could wrap his lips around a nipple, eagerly sucking as you let out a light laugh at him. 

“Are you a virgin?” 

“No,” he popped off your areola to defensively answer, immediately going back to dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud of your nipple, teeth teasingly playing with it. 

It sorta disappointed you. 

A sharp sting striking your heart as you considered who had taken his virtue. Was he clumsy with her? Were his palms all sweaty and clammy as he held her?  

Did he look at her the way he was looking at you now? 

All adoringly? 

You rolled your hips down, earning a low whine from the back of his throat as he switched to your other nipple. You could feel the damp spot growing in your panties, already wet from how long you’d been teasing yourself before you sent him the wrong thing. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” You asked, your voice quivering a little at the end as he nodded immediately. “I want to hear you say it.” 

“I want to fuck you,” he bluntly said, but it didn’t sound quite as humble as you hoped for.

“Say please,” you requested, still needing to be the one on top. In control. 

He pouted at you, his glasses glinting as he glared, but gave in. “Please.” 

“There’s condoms in the drawer,” you hummed, nodding towards it as you started shifting down lower, carefully pulling his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, watching his thick cock spring out. 

It was bigger than you expected. 

Veinier. 

Pre-cum already collected around the tip, leaking out as he leaned over to get the condom. You had to get off the bed to shimmy your panties off, tossing them on top of his clothes as your eyes slowly drifted across his pretty body. 

“It says round one,” he blurted out, staring accusingly at a condom foil as you huffed and snatched it from him, ripping it open as he scowled. 

“So?” You shrugged.

“Did you buy these for someone else?” He bluntly asked, and for the first time, you felt a little twinge of guilt for fucking his friend.

“You’re the one using it right now,” you muttered, slowly rolling the condom on his dick with a sigh. 

He was still pouting, lips all pursed, but it was fun to watch all the tension dissolve from his face the moment you were climbing back on top of him. You grabbed his glasses off his nose, clumsily fumbling to place them on your nightstand as his hands settled firmly on your hips. 

You didn’t want him to see your face. 

Embarrassment returning as your cheeks refused to cool down, all flushed as you angled yourself above him, about to start sinking down – just for him to yank you down. 

His cock prodding at your entrance, pushing in inch-by-inch, forcing his way deeper as you took him all the way. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, his lips quivering as his abs tensed beneath you. “Feels so-” 

He whimpered, unable to even finish his sentence when you started bouncing up-and-down, thighs moving fast, your brain struggling to catch up with your body. 

You were fucking your neighbor. 

The neighbor you’d sworn you couldn’t stand a thousand times. 

Legs straining and muscles tensing as you took him in all the way, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he openly gasped and groaned your name. 

“Feels so what?” You teased, but rather than replying, he was sitting up and kissing you again. But behind the intensity, there was a disconcerting intimacy to it. 

His soft lips sucking on yours as a thin rope of pleasure pulled tighter and tighter in the deepest parts of you, his nose nudging and nuzzling against yours as he moaned into your mouth. 

A flash of panic pulsed in you, and you were pulling away from him, flipping around so that he wouldn’t be able to watch your reaction before you sank back down on him. 

Taking him in again, his cock stretching you out as the new angle let him hit right up against a spongy spot you liked. 

He figured it out too with just a single shiver judging by the way he started slamming right up against it, your body nearly folding forward as your legs started to tire. 

“Feels fantastic,” he half-whined, and if your head wasn’t so warm, your thoughts getting all fuzzy and cloudy around the corners, you might have laughed.

That was a new one. 

But it felt nice to hear. Nice to know for all of his smug smirks, you could unravel him into a sweaty moaning mess. His skin slick with sweat, his chest heaving with every deep breath he sucked in, cock throbbing inside you as he bucked himself up deeper. 

You couldn’t resist craning your head back to take a peek. He gripped your hips harder, throwing his head back against your pillow as the lump in his throat bobbed. 

“Y-you’re staring,” he stammered, his voice coming out all thick and groggy as you grinded down on his thick cock. 

“I’m just looking,” you defensively said. 

Your heart squeezed. 

You wanted to suck him in. To get him hooked. 

To do this again. 

“Y-you’re so-” 

He didn’t get to finish his next compliment before someone started pounding on your door for the second time tonight. 

Another neighbor? 

Maybe the guy downstairs sick of the sex sounds and the music still thrumming from your speakers? 

“Just ignore it,” he groaned, his swollen tip rubbing just right below your womb. Your walls clamped down around him, everything that held you together began to come undone. Thread by thread pulled out with each thrust of his cock, each roll of your hips. “You close, pretty?” 

You were, and him calling you pretty only pushed you closer. 

Fingers curling into the blankets, your phone buzzing beneath them as you screwed your eyes shut and bobbed your head up-and-down. 

His thumb brushed against your clit, and an electric tingle rolled straight down your spine, body shuddering as his cock thrusted up against that sensitive spot he discovered earlier. 

“I’m gonna-” You were cumming before you were through with your sentence. 

A little cry escaping as you did fall forward, the release rolling through your body and rendering most of your limbs limp and useless as you let yourself fall into the waves of warm pleasure.

“That asshole downstairs is probably just jealous,” he grunted, gritting his teeth as he got edged, uselessly thrusting up and chasing a high he couldn’t quite reach when someone was incessantly knocking. 

“He’ll give up,” you muttered, legs still trembling as he lifted you off his lap. You couldn’t suppress your whine, sticking out your bottom lip as he gently placed you on your stomach, his hand cupping your ass before he sighed and stood up. 

You wanted to keep going. 

But he peeled off the condom on his cock, grabbing his boxers from the floor, his lips curling up at the sight of your soaked panties before he pulled up his underwear. 

“Why answer?” You sighed, looking up at him with your kiss-bitten lip pushed out. “Come back to bed.” 

“Don’t worry,” he smirked, squinting at you without his glasses. “We’ll get round two after I get the door.” 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒

What the hell was taking you so long to answer? 

Or were you just ignoring him? 

He didn’t know what he’d done to make you mad enough to tell him to fuck off – but he was uncomfortably itching to fix whatever it was. 

Technically speaking, he doubted you saw him as anything other than a fuck buddy. 

It was just, he, uh, didn’t know how he saw you. 

Lately, his head and his heart seemed to be in disagreement. 

God, he probably shouldn’t even be here. If he get caught-

Well, what would it matter? 

His idiot of a best friend would get over it eventually. 

God, he missed the fact that you were into him first anyway. 

Had been utterly oblivious to the way your eyes had stuck to him at first, glittering as you grinned and started to introduce yourself. 

And when he so spectacularly fumbled the bag, why not take the opportunity to steal it? 

Maybe it bothered him a little that you weren’t immediately infatuated with him. 

Maybe it irked him that you’d seen both of them and he wasn’t the one you wanted to start with. 

Sure, it didn’t take long for his friend to start crushing on you, but you didn’t like him back now. He made sure of it. Played into your little feud, tried to pull some strings to make sure that the two of you stayed apart as he snuck his way into your bed. 

It was a little absurd to him now, how things had ended up versus how they started.

You were cute. 

Captured him when his guard was down, not suspecting you might sneak past all his shields and occupy a corner of his heart. 

He wasn’t trying to like you.

To find it endearing how stubborn and sensitive you could be at the same time, your mouth curling down in a scoff every time you talked about your neighbor, complaining even when he had your knees folded against your chest in a mating press. 

To be annoyed every time you unceremoniously kicked him out of your apartment, to revel in the warmth of your body when you let him stay and shower or allowed him to indulge in aftercare.

You were just supposed to be fun. 

Never pressed him to turn the sex into something more or pestered him to bring you places in public for dinner or dates. 

Somewhere inside, he was sure you were using him. It was just that he sort of liked being used. 

He wasn’t your boyfriend. The reality was he could barely be considered a friend.But standing outside your door, staring at the go fuck yourself with proper punctuation at the end as he leaned against it, he wasn’t sure if he was satisfied with that anymore. 

Not when the prospect of you being pissed off at him had his stomach in knots and bile rising in his throat. When he could hear the same songs you usually put on while you were having sex softly playing through the door as he dug his phone out of pocket to send another text. 

Attraction had twisted into something darker, daring him to do more than just obsess over you.

He wanted to possess you.

Make you completely his.

The door opened – but it wasn’t you. 

His best friend staring back at him, squinting without his glasses, no shirt on and sweat dripping down his broad chest as a damp spot leaked through his white boxers. 

“What are you-” 

There were a few seconds of stilted silence, both of them staring slack-jawed as they tried to find something intelligent to say. And then the rustling of fabric, your head popping out from behind his best friend as you belatedly realized who was at the door. 

“You wanna join?”

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