Not just a neighbor. (Michael Clifford)

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I pulled into my driveway to find my green-haired neighbor sitting on my front steps for the third day this week. I turned off the old, clunky minivan that my mom had given me when I moved from New York to Australia and slammed the squeaky door behind me, just to make sure it closed all the way.

"Go home, Michael," I sighed, as he stood up. "Seriously."

"Oh, come on, y/n," He smiled as I walked to the mailbox to retrieve my bills. "I came to ask how your day was."

"You sat on my steps for what, an hour?" I laughed, stepping up to my front door and unlocking it. "That's borderline stalking me."

"I'm your neighbor, I'm not stalking you, I'm being friendly," He told me sweetly, standing behind me as I pushed the door open.

There was absolutely nothing threatening about Michael Clifford. If anything, he had really helped me adjust to the move. He helped me bring my boxes in, mowed my lawn for me when he saw me struggling with the push-mower, and helped me put the new locks on the doors. He invited me to his parties and let me borrow milk and all that silly stereotypical neighbor stuff. Michael wasn't a stalker, he was a kitten.

He stood on the top step as I walked inside and before the door closed behind me, I caught it. "You coming in?"

I walked to the kitchen, tossing the junk mail in the trash can and hopping up on the counter to review my bills. Michael leaned up against the door to the pantry and looked around. I peeked up at him, trying to be subtle enough that he wouldn't notice.

He looked incredible, to be completely honest. He had on a Def Leppard t-shirt, tight black jeans, and the same boots he wore everyday. I watched as he licked his lips awkwardly before running a hand through his hair and walking over to the counter. He hiosted himself up and sat beside me. "Y/n, I don't bother you, do? Because I--"

"You don't bother me, Michael," I promised.

"I'm serious. I know I'm just that guy that lives next door, but.."

I put my electric bill down and looked over to him, "You're not just the guy who lives next door, you were my first friend here."

"Really?" He smiled, his eyes flashing down to my lips. He leaned forward a tiny bit, and so did I, giving him permission to kiss me softly. It was slow, lingering, and I licked his lip first, asking for his okay to take it further. He gladly opened his mouth for me, so I leaned over a bit more and deepened the kiss.

"Y/n," He breathed out, barely pulling away. "Where's your bedroom?"

I grabbed his hand, pulling him off of the counter and upstairs to my bedroom. I flipped the switch on the wall, as my curtains held out most of the light. The christmas lights strung up above my bed flickered on and Michael smiled up at them as I sat him down on my bed, standing between his knees.

I let out a laugh as I pulled his shirt over his head and he got stuck. "Well this is embarassing,' He chuckled as he fought with it. When he tossed it across the room, he shrugged, "Your turn."

I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, tossing it across the room. He looked speechless, almost unaware of what to do next. I grabbed his hands, gently placing them on my chest and kissing down his neck. I nibbled on his skin and he kneaded my boobs, then moved his hands down to my hips. He hooked his thumbs in my belt loops and slowly pulled my pants down. He responded to the sound of them dropping to the floor by leaning back on the bed so that I could kneel over top of him. He grabbed me gently, somehow flipping us over and kicking off his boots.

I unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down to his knees and revealing his pizza underwear. I let out a laugh, covering my face. "You weren't supposed to see them, okay?" He blushed.

"I love pizza," I smiled, shrugging before reaching down and running one finger up his bulge. He gluped, leaning down again and kissing me more deeply than he had before. I pulled down his boxers, pumping my hand up and down, using my thumb to rub the tip. He let out a breathy moan in my mouth and slipped his hand down the front of my panties.

I pulled away my hand, his length pressing against my leg as my hips bucked up. I took the sheets in fistfulls as he used his thumb to rub slow circles on my clit and curl two fingers inside of me. I laid my head back on my pillow and closed by eyes, whimpering, "Michael, I need you."

He stopped using his thumb, moving his two wet fingers up to rub faster. "How badly, y/n?" He couldn't contain his little laugh.

"Please."

"Whatever you want," He whispered, sucking at my neck and slowly sliding into me. He threatened in and out slowly, obviously doing it for me instead of him, something other guys hadn't.

I grasped his back, breathing out, "Mikey, I'm gonna cum."

"So cum," he whispered, nibbling my earlobe and quickening his thrusts just enough to press into me deeper.

My thighs tightened around his waist and I arched my back, letting out a loud moan as I tightened around him and released myself.

Because he had taken it slow for me, he wasn't quite finished. He pulled out, pressing his lips to mine and moaning into my mouth, "Go down on me."

He laid back and I took him in my mouth entirely, causing him to tangle his hands in my hair as I continued to suck. "Fuck, y/n," he groaned as a warning before he came.

I swallowed, then moved up to lay beside him. I traced figure eights into his chest abd he looked away from me, covering his face.

"You're blushing," I grinned.

"Whatever," He replied, not looking at me.

I cuddled up against him and pulled the covers over us. "I could come home from work everyday to this, you know."

"

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