Author's Note: Hello friends! I began this story back in January, and was now finally able to finish it! School is starting again next week, and I have to move back in and everything which makes me a little nervous, but I'll try and keep writing when I can! Sorry if there are any longer delays though ;.;

As for this story, it's quite silly! It stemmed because Jocie413 had reviewed on my "legs" chapter in the white noise story about wanting a written out version of something that was briefly mentioned in the story. She's a lovely person and always been super supportive of my stories, so I wanted to do something to show my appreciation, and here is the result! Ridiculous and crude, hehe. Check out her stories too if you have a chance :)

In conclusion, I hope you like the story! Take care and I hope you're all doing well c:

Home Sweet Home

Summary: Gajeel really needed his own apartment. [Gajeel-centric] [Gruvia] [one-shot]

It was like something out of a sitcom. Gajeel, single straight guy and intimidating enough to spark fear in the bravest man, living with single straight girl Juvia, who was cute and bubbly and hummed around the house and baked for fun.

It was only a matter of time until they fall in love, right?

Except, people seemed to forget the concept of platonic friendship. Juvia was his friend. Maybe best friend, if he were dying and she were the only one around to hear his last words.

But no, he wasn't dating her. He wasn't sleeping with her. He might've had a thing for petite blue-haired girls, but she wasn't his type. Juvia was like a sister to him, nothing more.

It got damn annoying saying it all the time. People were presumptuous morons who didn't care how many times he stressed no, she was just a friend, seriously.

But then she got a boyfriend, some cold prick named Gray Fullbuster who acted for months like he wasn't interested, but would spend almost every day with her and suddenly pull her close if any other guy got near her. Not to mention he knew as many things about Juvia as Gajeel did himself—well, not everything, but still a good amount. And even though he pretended to be some cool, nonchalant bastard, Gajeel saw the way he looked at Juvia when she wasn't looking. Almost reminded him of something about himself towards a particular blue-haired girl. Almost.

Either way, Fullbuster was a much better improvement than her ass of an ex Bora, and finally, with Juvia having her boyfriend with her almost all the time, people would stop pestering him about her being his girlfriend/sex buddy. Finally he would have peace.

Or so he thought.

They inherited a third roommate: Stripper Fuckface.

Fullbuster always lowered the thermostat to make the apartment ice cold, he left his clothes everywhere (even his damn boxers, who the hell did this prick think he was), he cleaned out their kitchen because Juvia loved to cook for him, and worst of all? He somehow kept up with Juvia's insanely demanding sex drive.

At least last time, Juvia always had the decency to satisfy her needs outside the apartment. She never took the bastard home, knowing full well the only thing Bora's face would touch was Gajeel's fist.

This time, though—Gajeel didn't know what the hell it was about this guy. She was literally wet for him all the fucking time.

What was so damn great about him? Just his presence alone was like an aphrodisiac or some shit. Maybe it was in his weirdass cologne, or maybe it was 'cause he was in decent shape (but Gajeel's own muscles were way bigger), or 'cause he wasn't the ugliest bastard he'd ever had the misfortune of laying his eyes on, but still—the prick came home with Juvia almost every night, and stayed there till morning or sometimes afternoon.

And their walls were thin. Damn, damn thin. Not to mention Juvia had a vocal range of a fucking banshee.

But whatever, as long as she was fucking happy. Which she was. She was smiling even more, had a skip in her step, baked all sorts of treats, made Gajeel's favorite meals out of the blue. The stripper prick knew that if he ever made Juvia sad, he'd get a tire iron up his ass, and he seemed to heed the warning pretty well.

He could deal with creaks of the bed, thumps on the walls and moans seeping through the cracks. He would just turn up the heavy metal blasting through his over-the-ear headphones and drown out the noise.

As long as he never caught them, there wouldn't be a problem.

There was nothing more annoying than spoiled bitch-ass kids. Bastards so damn picky about their Ferrari F50, like Gajeel had never seen one in person before. Fucking up-nosed silver-spoon-up-their-ass kids—if they knew so much about their car, why weren't they the ones tuning it up? Acting all high and mighty over a customized car. Despite their picky-ass demands, Gajeel still did a perfect job, of course; after all, he wasn't the best-known mechanic in the area for nothing. Still, the snotty bastards didn't make it easy.

Annoying little shits.

Trudging his feet home, exasperated from a long day's work, his mind drifted to the Jacuzzi stationed in the back of their apartment. Nothing like a good, long soak with solid jet streams shooting into his shoulders to end an annoyingly longass day. He'd texted Juvia earlier too, telling her to prepare the jacuzzi for him, and she'd replied all Juvia-y like, "Of course, Gajeel-kun!" with some heart, so there wouldn't even be a delay—it'd be all nice and prepped by the time he arrived.

When he came home, he found all his belongings ready to go, courtesy of Juvia—some swim trunks, towel, waterproof music player to relax pre-loaded with some heavy metal tunes. Quickly getting ready, he walked through the patio and kicked the door open, his tense muscles eager to rest, until—

"Ah… it's so… slippery…"

"Fuck, Juvia—that's so—ngh—"

"Ahh, Gray-sama—"

Fuck no. Oh fuck no. Gajeel stormed forward, only to grow livid at the sight—the stripping prick sitting at the edge of his jacuzzi, Juvia straddling his lap with her legs hooked on his sides, her bikini top coming undone with his face in her neck and her cheeks flushed from something other than the heat—

"SPRINKLER!"

"KYAA!"

Juvia's eyes suddenly shot open, freezing like a deer in headlights as her face whipped to his. She instantly clung herself to Gray, shrinking away from the steam shooting from her roommate's nose.

"G-Gajeel-kun! Don't look—!"

"The jacuzzi, Sprinkler?! The Jet Stream 5000?!"

"J-Juvia can explain—!"

"I told you I wanted a soak today after work, what the fuck—?!"

"Juvia is so embarrassed!" she cried. "She didn't think Gajeel-kun would be home this soon, and Gray-sama was helping her clean, and—and—can Juvia and Gajeel-kun discuss this later?!"

"Oh gee, is this a bad time? Too busy being fucked balls deep by your stripper boyfriend?!"

"Gajeel-kun!"

"Forget it! I'll just use Totomaru's place, dammit!" Gajeel snarled, passing a hand through his hair. His eyes flickered to Gray, who didn't so much blink under his glare while Juvia buried her mortified face in his neck. Arrogant bastard.

"The fuck you think yer looking at, stripper?!"

"Nothing," Gray replied nonchalantly, propping his elbows back against the rim of the jacuzzi. "Nice jacuzzi."

He curled his lips in a wicked smirk, and Gajeel saw red.

"What are you making again?"

"Brownies, Gray-sama!"

"Hm."

"Does Gray-sama want a taste?"

"Rather taste you."

"Ahh~! Gray-sama is sweeter than Juvia's batter…"

Gajeel rolled his eyes, shuffling in his drawer before pulling out his headphones and sliding them over his head. Tch, Juvia and her cheesy lovey dovey crap, and the stripper fuck was playing right into her hands. Stupid bastard.

Gathering the tools dispersed around him, Gajeel placed a wrench between his teeth and organizing the screwdrivers by size. Juvia did say organization was important, and maybe she had a point, considering he worked a lot faster when he was picking up his tools exactly where he needed them to be. So maybe it meant spending some time every day organizing his shit, but whatever—more work done meant more money, and more money meant—

Crash!

His head immediately snapped up, eyes narrowing at the sound.

Shit. That couldn't be good. The last time he heard a crash that loud, Juvia had dropped the pan because she had accidentally cut herself. The whole ride over to the emergency room was full of "Juvia is so sorry!" and whines and wails and all sorts of noise that only made her bleeding hand worse. It was a long night but a few stitches and sedatives later, peace was restored.

Pushing himself to his feet, Gajeel made his way over to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath. Maybe she just dropped a platter, but if she did hurt herself, at least the stripper would be there for her to cling to and dump all her flood of tears on—

"Oh—hah— "

"—C'mere—"

"—Ah—"

Gajeel felt his blood run cold and immediately rounded the corner, only to feel an immediate urge to puke.

On the kitchen counter—the fucking kitchen counter—with flour sprinkled around them and shit, was Juvia, on her back with her apron pushed up and the stripping fucker between her legs, rocking into her with his hands on her ass tilting her body higher. Juvia was clutching the edge of the counter and covering her mouth, stifling the noises coming from it, and the stripper was still fucking her like they totally weren't aware of his fucking presence and like fucking hell he was gonna sit and watch this—

"Fucking shit!"

Juvia suddenly tipped her head back and instantly flinched, letting out an ear-splitting scream. Gray cringed at the sound, popping a finger in his ear and gradually slowing his movements. Gajeel blew steam from his nose, clenching his trembling fist with a vein popping in his forehead.

"The fuck is this?! Where we fucking eat, Sprinkler?!

"G-Gajeel-kun—!"

"Are you fucking with me right now?!"

"More like fucking me right now—"

"Gray-sama!"

"You think this is funny, stripper fuck?!"

"G-Gajeel-kun—Juvia just—"

"You what?! Did you forget I'm right next fucking door?!"

"Um—uh—"

"YOU DID?"

"Juvia is so sorry!"

"For fuck's sake—!"

"Ngh, Juvia—"

"DON'T KEEP FUCKING GOING, STRIPPING FUCK—"

"G-Gajeel—ah!"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

"I would if Juvia would stop squeezing so much—"

"YOU'RE A DEAD MAN, STRIPPER—"

"Gajeel-kun! Juvia will clean everything spotless, she p-promis—ah, Gray-sama—"

"GODDAMMIT—"

Storming out of the room, Gajeel kicked Juvia's door open, gathering all of the stripper's shit scattered around. He could fucking hear them still going at it, the stripper's skin slapping hers and Juvia's moans getting louder till they were suddenly muffled—

Snarling, Gajeel stomped back out, walking passed the screwing couple making out on the tainted as fuck kitchen counter (so much for ever selling the place, goddammit). He slammed the front door open, dumping the stripper's shit outside with an angry growl.

The loud crash made the two part, glancing over with glazed, half-lidded eyes while Gajeel glowered murderously.

"GO FUCK IN YOUR OWN PLACE."

He ate take-out in his room for the rest of the week.

He heard the plate set down before him, but he didn't look up from the newspaper in his hand.

She was cleaning everything spotless, as if he didn't see his damn reflection in everything already. But she usually did clean when she was stressed or needed to pass the time, but still, he refused to fall into her trap.

"Gajeel-kun must be hungry," Juvia said, lifting his legs from the coffee table to dust the surface underneath.

He just grunted at her, turning the page.

"Gajeel-kun's food will get cold…"

He sniffed. The scent of charred steak filled his nose—singed just the way he liked, damn she was good—but he refused to yield. She wouldn't win that easily.

"Gajeel-kun—"

"Unless you broke up with the stripping bastard, I don't wanna hear it."

Finally Juvia sighed and took a seat beside him, and Gajeel inwardly groaned. Great. Here it comes—

"Juvia is so very sorry, Gajeel-kun—"

"—Don't care—"

"—Juvia is mortified that Gajeel-kun saw her and Gray-sama—"

"—tell that to Stripper Fuckface—"

"—and she will do anything she can to make it up to Gajeel-kun—"

"—You tainted the Jet Stream 5000—"

"Juvia will replace it!"

Gajeel snorted, straightening the newspaper in his hands. "Like you have that kind of money. We saved for months for that thing."

"Juvia will work extra shifts!" the girl pouted. "Whatever she can do to make it up to Gajeel-kun!"

The man gave her a flat look. "You fucked on our kitchen counter."

She instantly reddened, "J-Juvia is so sorry—!"

"You fucked in every inch of your room, probably fucked in our bathroom, in the shower, on this fucking sofa—"

"—G-Gajeel-kun!—"

"If you came anywhere near my room you better break up with the stripper now 'cause you'll be dating a eunuch—"

"Never!" Juvia gasped before she ducked her head, pressing the tips of her fingers together. "B-But… maybe… Juvia needs to clean the balcony—"

"Fuck, Sprinkler!"

"Juvia is so sorry!"

"No more!" Gajeel said sternly. "That stripper ain't allowed one fucking foot in this apartment anymore, got that? If I see him here, I'm out. End of discussion."

His tone was firm, his gaze unwavering from her own. Juvia flushed in embarrassment, bowing her head and nodding.

"Juvia understands."

Gajeel snorted, reclining on the couch once more. "Good. Now hand me that plate, will ya? M'fucking starving."

She looked at him, a small smile curving her lips before she retrieved the meal for him. He scoffed at the warm smile on her face, scarfing down the food without a second thought.

It was a regular day at the guild. Fresh sight for sore eyes compared to being stuck in an apartment where his roommate fucked almost every square inch.

Lily was with him, Mira was bartendin' as usual and gave him her guitar to tune up, and he even found his lucky white suit at home earlier. Yeah, today was an alright day so far.

Juvia had heeded his warning—he hadn't seen the stripper in days. Juvia assured that she cleaned and disinfected everything so many times they were practically new, so Gajeel could somewhat enjoy their place again.

No more ice cold temperature, no more random-ass clothes strewn everywhere, no more thumps and moans and defiling everything they touched.

He finally had his space back. About damn time.

Now to celebrate with some tunes.

"Yo, barmaid!" Gajeel called, earning a glance from Mira who was walking with a tray of drinks. "Where the mic at?"

"Storage room in the back, on the left," Mirajane smiled, setting down the tray.

Gajeel grunted in thanks, wasting no time scooting his chair back and trudging back there.

But right when he rounded the corner, he knew he made a grave, grave mistake.

"Shh, you have to keep it down, remember?"

"Ahnn, Gray-sama—your hand—"

"Mm, no panties today?"

"Mmm—"

Gajeel violently twitched, slamming the door open, "WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH THIS GUY?"

"KYAA!" Juvia screamed, pulling the front of her dress together. Gray simply blinked.

"Well, this is awkward—"

"The storage room!?"

"G-Gajeel-kun restricted the apartment—"

"THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH HIS PLACE?"

"U-Um—well—"

"We already fucked in every room there—"

"Gray-sama!"

As the couple bickered, Gajeel's face grew distant.

This was it. No place was safe. Not the apartment, not the guild, not the city or the river or the forest on the outskirts—nowhere. The stripper-fuck had ruined everything.

And so, with a perfectly straight face, he said, "I'm moving out."

The two glanced at him, and he shut the door in their face.