#irisnextdoor

Luke Castellan putting a hand over ur mouth to keep u quiet..🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing to the shell of your ear. “You don’t wanna wake up the whole cabin, right?” To be funny, he emphasized his point with a thrust, pushing himself so impossibly deep into you. His hand muffled the moan that threatened to seep through the cracks. You hummed a lazy agreement, ‘mhm’.

“Good.” Luke quietly affirmed, his arm wrapped around your waist tightened by just a fraction. Slowly, to ensure the other campers didn’t hear a single thing that should be only meant for his ears, he moved in and out of you. It pained him to not move faster—to not hear you panting and whiny.

Your mind grew fuzzy with each movement, with each quiet groan Luke let escape his mouth, with each hushed praise of, ‘You feel so good’. His face was shoved into the crook of your neck, placing messy, open-mouth kisses onto your shoulders each time he felt you clench around him.

The tip of his cock continued to brush against your cervix, making your entire body run hot. Your hold on his wrist tightened, your nails digging deep into his scarred skin. He doesn’t tell you to let go, or to stop. Luke lets out a breathy chuckle as if finding your means to ground yourself funny.

Couldn’t moan, couldn’t insult him, and you couldn’t even look at his infuriatingly handsome face. Couldn’t kiss the scar that ran down his cheekbone, couldn’t hold his hand, couldn’t look at where your bodies meet.

Damn him for doing this at night, and damn him for doing this in the Hermes cabin. You should’ve expected it when he moved closer to you, asking if you were sleeping. You should’ve expected this when he kissed the curve of your jawline and trailed his hand further and further down your body.

Mischievous bastard. The way of the infamous Hermes son; trickery and mischief. Even when the mischief is fucking you in a full cabin, with a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Adrian Chase not wanting to stop when eating you out because that’s what best friends do!!🫠

“Hey,” Adrian whimpered. The lower half of his face dripping with slick, his lips parted as he took deep breath after deep breath. His hair was brushed back, your fist full of his curled hair—it was the only way you could get him to actually stop, pulling him back forcefully. He looked up at you through the top of his silver rims, his glasses crooked over his cheeks.

“You alright?” Adrian questioned as you pulled his head away from your overworked cunt. As if to comfort you, his grip on your thighs tightened momentarily. He needed to know you were alright to continue. Needed that green-light to keep going. This bonding session is serious to him—you are his best friend in the whole wide world, after all. “You’ll let me keep going, yea?”

See, you would’ve agreed half an hour ago, and not when you were two orgasms in, teetering on your third. Your entire body was shaking, your breathing erratic and your heartbeat was going at a concerning rate. The fire in the pit of your stomach never lessened.

“Ain’t you tired?” You asked, attempting to reach out to Adrian, acting (though, you really were) concerned. “No,” he shook his head quickly and almost immediately. “You’d be able to tell, right? My best friend would know if I was getting tired.” Of course you’d be able to tell when he was getting tired! What a silly question.

Adrian Chase looked out for his best friend. Adrian Chase made sure his BFF never felt unsatisfied; emotionally, physically, or sexually. That’s what best friends do, right?

You whined, throwing your head back, looking up at the ceiling before closing your eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. I’d never lie to you.” He just lied.

He pressed a delicate kiss onto your clit before dragging his tongue over your folds, looking up at you as he did so. “Hurry up,” you mumbled, giving Adrian the green light he so desperately needed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Only One Best Friend.

IN WHICH; Your best friend can’t get over the fact that someone else calls you their best friend.

word count: 1.3K

tags/warnings; fem!reader, smut—little plot, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie/breeding(probably), adrian says i love you [more], doing it on a table..?, i hate writing endings.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝. hey!! my first req🥹 god i love you guys!! and i’m so sorry Anon! tumblr would NOT post this originally no matter what i did!! i’m sososo sorry😭😭

“Who the fuck?” Adrian muttered to himself, surrounded by the darkness of the damp alleyway he found himself in. Just a few seconds ago, his phone buzzed in his bus-boy outfit pocket, which could only mean three things; You texted him, Chris answered him, or you posted on Instagram.

He expected, as usual, a collage of selfies about his—extremely gorgeous—best friend. But, no. You reposted a photo of you and some other guy at a bar together. That part didn’t set Adrian off, it was the caption on said photo.

‘My #1 best friend!” Best friend, he said. Best friend, said this stranger. Best friend, said this man who doesn’t even know how you feel. What does he know about the special bond you—real best friends—feel?

The barrage of text messages from Adrian soon began to flood in. ‘Hey! Where were you tonight? Didn’t see your car in your parking lot.’ ‘Hey?’ ‘Answer me’ ‘Is everything okay?’ ‘I’m on my way’.

You sighed as you walked up to your apartment, every step up the stairs felt like an hour. The strap to your dress slid off your shoulder, your eyebrows tightly pinched together. The night was fine, yes—great, even. But, God, if that drive home didn’t drain you. Being the designated driver is something you wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

Juggling with your keys, the silver turning into a blur as you tried and tried and failed each turn. The door opened without you turning the key—any key. Your heart dropped all the way down to your feet, until you finally processed just who stood in your doorway.

“Who’s your best friend?” Adrian questioned, his eyes narrowed toward you, his chin tilted slightly downward to properly meet your gaze. “What?” You replied, your confused tone matching your expression perfectly.

With a groan, you pushed past him. You couldn’t even think of why he’s questioning you like this. Adrian knows that he’s your best friend. He’d find a reason to ‘scare’ anyone that says otherwise. You’d know from experience.

With a yank, Adrian had a hold on your wrist, pulling you back to him. At times, you forget how strong he is. You’re painfully reminded when he presses the small of your back against the tiny table. He enclosed you, his hands gripping the edges of the table, looking down at you with a look of irritation.

“Who’s the guy that called you your best friend? I thought I was your only best friend.” You could practically smell—sense—feel the jealousy that seeped through every pore, every crack in his posture. “He’s just a friend.” “Is he? Not a best friend?”

You shook your head, “No, Adrian.” A long, shaky, breath left his lungs. “I knew that,” he replied, flashing a toothy grin. “Nobody knows you like I do. I mean, nobody knows the right way to touch you like I do. That’s what best friends do.” Bonding—they bond in the most intimate ways possible. That’s what best friends do.

“Yea, he doesn’t.” You agreed, your mind wandering to just how far you can take this jealousy, this rare moment. “Yeah?” Adrian asked, leaning towards you for an ounce of confirmation of your relationship—his pedestal, his number one spot.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, your voice quiet, the answer for his ears only. “My only best friend.” You held his eyes for a moment before crashing your lips onto his, the taste of honey and Adrian mixing together.

Adrian was so, so thankful, so grateful, that you kissed him. That you showed the realness in the friendship you two had. Nobody could kiss him like you could. His hands found your thighs, curling into the soft skin, lifting you onto the table’s surface to sit on the cold wood.

He refused to pull away. Breath was meaningless. Breath didn’t matter to him as long as his best friend kept her attention on him and him alone. Breath was nothing as long as his skin could touch yours.

You felt his cock grind against your core, needy and deprived. Whines left his throat, only meant for you to swallow down and make completely yours. Your friend couldn’t make your head fuzzy like this. Your friend is just a friend—he was far from being Adrian.

He pulled away, just barely, his taste still fresh on your tongue. “Lemme,” he pleaded. His fingers found the edge of your panties, holding himself back from taking them off and showing that stranger just how far your bond goes. “Please.”

You simply nodded your head, humming. “Do it.” That was all he needed, that yes, that confirmation. Adrian quickly tugged the lacy fabric down, before inevitably struggling with his belt and zipper. Your hands had to guide his, quickly unbuckling the leather belt, quickly unbuttoning his jeans, quickly sliding the zipper down.

“Thank you.” Adrian mindlessly mumbled, his hand already wrapped around his cock, his tip level with your entrance. “Tell me I’m the only best friend you have.” The words on paper looked like a demand, but spoken, it sounded like a plea. “The only one, Adrian.”

At the weird-version of praise, Adrian pushed himself into you, groaning through his teeth. His forehead rested on your shoulder, letting the feeling of his best friend’s gummy walls tighten around him. Slowly, he began moving in and out.

“You alright?” He asked between breaths, the tip of his cock reaching just the right spot. “Always,” you answered. “Always.” Adrian repeated, as if your words were sacred text.

At your affirmation, he moved faster. Then faster. Adrian could never hold himself back when he was this close—physically, emotionally, and intimately—with his best friend. His hips slammed against yours, whimpers bouncing off the walls. God, you just felt too good. So good. So beautifully his.

“I love you more,” he said. “I love you more than he does.” Adrian stated, treating his mumbling as fact. He does love you more than your friend does. He loves you more than anybody else. You’re his best friend—nobody else. He’s your best friend—nobody else. He moved his head back, meeting your gaze.

His eyes looked almost glazed over, his glasses damn near falling off his head. His cheeks were flushed with a pink hue. He looked like completely and utterly Adrian like this.

“I know you do,” you said. Before you could reply, saying you loved him too, he leaned back in, his lips meeting yours. The kiss was messy, almost sloppy, with your teeth hitting each others, your moans filling the other’s lungs.

His firm hold on your hips drove you mental. The warmth in your stomach became more and more obvious, harder and harder to ignore. Adrian’s cock ramming into you was too much, too good. You could feel him stretching your cunt, waring you down inch by inch, thrust by thrust.

“I’m close,” he whimpered. “God, ‘m close. Can I?” Adrian asked, his eyes focused on where your bodies meet, where the bond between you is the most real, the most undeniable proof. “Lemme cum inside you.” Let him make it obvious that you’re his best friend, and his best friend alone.

“Please,” you nodded. His pace picked up, his lips pressing messy kisses to the corner of your mouth. “Let’s cum together,” he mumbled. “Please cum with me, please. Need it so bad, please.” He begging rolled off his tongue quickly and rapidly, the words merging together.

All you could do in the moment was hum an agreement, the vibration of your throat struggling to leave amidst the whines. Your arms wrapped around Adrian’s neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

At the touch, the hold, and agreement, Adrian couldn’t hold himself back, and neither could you. Stars filled your vision as you came completely undone. Your thighs shook, a sob breaking through your lips. You could feel Adrian’s seed dripping into you, filling your cunt with the purest form of him.

Adrian was gone. Completely gone. Feeling his cum fill you, making you entirely his best friend. He couldn’t stop, God he needed more. Needed to fuck it deeper into you. Needed all your other friends to know the wonderful title of ‘Best friend’ was only his.

Luke catching reader sneaking out of her cabin past curfew and makes her apologise/earn not being snitched on or punished

Seeking Forgiveness

IN WHICH: Luke catches you sneaking out, and he promises not to tell! Well.. if you do something for him, that is.

🗡️ 2.6K — fem!reader, mean/dark!luke, dubcon?, reader gets called ‘Bambi’ & ‘pretty/pretty girl’, semi-public, oral M receiving, p in v unprotected, reader rides luke kinda, luke bites reader, he finishes inside, praise & degradation.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝. hypothetically, yes!! i didn’t know how to end this either..? i hated this but the idea was too good lord.

adrian and reader fucking sloppy and desperate style after a mission. send tweet

You blame the adrenaline, that’s what you tell yourself. That’s how you got here—Adrian’s bruised lips on yours with dried blood sticking to his hairline, blood staining both your clothes. Adrenaline is why he was so deep inside of you inside the back of his car, a few blocks down from a crime scene.

Dead pieces of shit, as Adrian called them when he leaned in close, his pupils dialated.

“Fuck,” he sobbed into your neck, his arms shaking ever so slightly as his palms were flat against the car seat. Your legs were wrapped around his hips tightly upon his request. ‘Please, baby, lemme feel you properly. Wrap ‘em around me.’

You could no longer keep track of both time, and what round this was. His cum from prior rounds slowly seeped out of you, earning a whine from Adrian everytime. He didn’t wanna leave you so empty. Please, God, let him keep filling you up for his sake.

“Too good, ‘s so good,” Adrian babbled without a thought in his head. “Never wanna leave, never ever.” He shook his head, emphasizing his words to nobody in particular but himself.

Every part of you was weak, the pit in your stomach was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Please tell me I don’t gotta leave. Please, baby, please.” He whined, his hips desperately jerking towards yours, his cock so overwhelmingly deep inside you—and now he doesn’t want to leave. His tip brushed against your cervix with every plea.

“Yea,” you nodded your head, “Don’t leave.”

Adrian had never heard anything sweeter in his life.

“Never gonna—fuck, you’re so good to me. So fuckin’ good.”

Mattheo ‘Brat tamer’ Riddle strikes again

Your hands instinctively gripped his sheets, balling up the fabric between your fingers. Your face shoved into his pillow made it hard to breathe—made it hard to focus. The tip of his cock brushing against your sweet spot he found so funny to abuse. His hand on the back of your head kept you still, his fingers often tugging at the strands of your hair.

You would’ve said something, if you could. But, then again, your mouth was what got you into this mess. Told you that you were being too mouthy. In hindsight, telling him to ‘fuck off’, wasn’t the best option.

A humiliating whimper broke free from your throat, and you could almost feel the condescending smirk on Mattheo’s face. You were falling apart on his cock, just like he wanted. You, in all your glory. You, mean and bitter, whining and sobbing into his pillow as he thrusts just a little deeper. He’d tell you that you looked pretty, but he was sure it’d just boost your ego more. That, he didn’t want.

No, he wanted to see you forget that ego of yours and just admit that you’ve wanted nothing more than to feel him ruin you.

“Fuck,” you cried, your voice cracking and breaking. You could feel the terrible, terrible heat building in your stomach. “Please—” He slowed down. Oh, you’re so going to kill this sly bastard.

“Hm?” Mattheo hummed, pushing himself deeper into your pretty little cunt. He could feel you tighten around him, desperate and needy—just how he needed you. “C’mon, speak up.” He murmured, his voice low and breathless. The Slytherin had leaned downward, his chest almost against your back, his lips so agonizingly close to your ear. “I can’t hear you.”

“Fuck you,” “You already are.” A tender, and surprisingly intimate, kiss was pressed against your temple, strands of hair sticking to your skin. “Try again. Use your manners when you talk to me.” Slowly, but surely, you felt yourself becoming more and more empty. This bastard!

A whine of disapproval was the only thing you could muster as he pulled out of you. “Please,” the plea left your lips before you could think. “Please, please, please don’t stop. ‘M sorry, please, Matty.”

“Atta girl.” Mattheo purred, the smirk on his lips evident in his tone. If you make it out alive tonight, you’re so going to kill him.

dryhumping with adrian chase in his suit🙂‍↕️..him cumming with 0 touching..yup

Breathy moans, quiet and hushed, bounced off the walls of your living room. Adrian, bless his heart, had crawled through the open window, his fingers already curled underneath his mask to beg you to just let him do this really quick. You’ll let him, right? Please, pretty girl, please!

His clothed cock desperately rubbed against your laced underwear, seeking the quickest bit of friction he could get. “Couldn’t—” A whimper had cut him off “Couldn’t focus on work like this. I’m sorry for takin’ you away from your work,” Adrian mindlessly rambled.

You gripped the backrest’s edge of your sofa tightly, your forehead resting on your forearms. “I’ll be quick, baby,” Adrian promised. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He held onto your hips like they were a lifeline, your skin on his gloved hands were the closest thing he’d get to Heaven.

Pre-cum stained his pants, his movements becoming quicker and more erratic. God, he needed this. Couldn’t patrol properly without thinking of you riding his cock, fucking him stupid. Couldn’t even think properly without the image of you, on your knees, popping up.

“I’m close,” he whined, “God, I’m close.” You simply nodded in acknowledgment, quiet whimpers leaving your lips. He expected you to go back to work this? Is he sure he isn’t evil?

Your train of thought was soon cut off by Adrian wrapping both arms around your waist, pulling himself flush against you, his face buried into your neck. His voice cracked as he let out a final moan, his body shaking against yours.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss on your column of your throat, his breath hot against your skin. Without missing a beat, Adrian stood up straight, changed his pants and underwear, and crawled back out of your window with a wave, his mask already back on his head.

You were sure he was grinning ear to ear as he left your apartment, effectively leaving you just as desperate as he was moments ago. How evil. How infuriatingly Adrian Chase of him.

IN WHICH; The 11th street kids find it weird that Adrian stalks his own girlfriend..But it’s so not stalking!

word count: 0.6K

tags/warnings: fem!reader, fluff, stalking(duh), established relationship, reader is lowk an enabler, reader is both teasing & comforting, average 11th street kids, chris is elsewhere (i didn’t want to write him).

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝. this is, no joke, my first post that isn’t smut LOL / this is inspired by that tweet that’s like “it isn’t stalking bitch i’m looking out for you.”

“Stop it,” Harcourt whispered through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to watch your girlfriend’s living room camera constantly!” She argued, snatching Adrian’s phone out of his hands, shutting it completely off. “No!” He whined, extending his hands outwards, attempting (and failing) to retrieve his phone back from Harcourt.

Adebayo and Economos watched as Harcourt spun her body around, with Adrian following her every movement, his eyes locked onto his phone. “C’mon! It’s my phone!” “Stop stalking your girlfriend, and actually listen to the meeting, and I will.” She shot back, her reply almost immediately.

Adrian paused in his movement, standing up fully straight with his eyebrows slightly pinched together. “Stalking? It isn’t stalking!” He defended, his words being met with snickers and scoffs. “Uh, yeah, it is.” Economos cut through the conversation, his arms crossed over his chest.

Initially, Adrian had let out a small laugh. John was always so funny—so witty! His toothy grin slowly faded as he looked around the room, his gaze being met with serious-looking faces. “What?” he mumbled, confused on their reactions to his worry over you.

“I’m not stalking my girlfriend,” Adrian said, his voice firm, as if it were fact. “Uh,” Adebayo started, “Yea, you are.” She repeated John’s earlier statement, sarcasm thick in her words.

“Am not! I’m just…looking out for her! Someone’s gotta.” He argued, his hands extending outwards to his sides momentarily before he quickly pulled back, his palms smacking his thighs.

The three of them, as if in practiced synchronization, raised their eyebrows and tilted their chin downwards. They did not believe Adrian.

“You’ve watched her through her windows with binoculars,” John reminded Adrian, his voice in its usual flat tone. “You placed a tracker in her car, and tried to play it off,” Harcourt added, having no issue in telling Adrian just how..odd he can be. “Yea, Adrian..I dunno what to call that if it isn’t ‘stalking’.” Adebayo mumbled, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke.

All Adrian could do was huff, muttering something about ‘You just don’t get it,’ and storming away like a spoiled child. The three watched as he walked out the door, his lips pressed into a thin line.

There was a beat of silence inside the room. Then another. “Don’t we still have a meeting today?” “..Yea.”

—

“Can you believe they said that?!” Adrian recounted the event that had just played out, his head on your lap as you sat on your couch. Though, he left out the parts where they—unpleasantly—reminded him of his past actions. Not to say that he still doesn’t do such things. He’s just extra, extra cautious.

Your nails lightly scratched his scalp, upon pouty his request, a small smile across his face. In some weird, kinda fucked up way, this was Adrian’a way of showing his love for you. Sure he approached it as if he were a madman (which, he is), but c’mon. You kinda knew what you were getting into.

“Awh, ‘m sorry, baby.” You dragged out your words, your smile obvious from your tone alone. “I woulda stepped in if I knew they were jumping you like that.” You were joking, obviously. You loved Adebayo too much to do that.

And Harcourt kind of scared you.

“I handled it.” Sure he did.

“I believe ya, knight in shining armour.”

Though, you wouldn’t be wrong if you also called him a stalker. Best not to rub it in his face after such a tragic loss. ..He’ll find out eventually with that brain of his.

Hopefully.