[irisnextdoor]

⋆. 𐙚˚࿔ little miss Iris 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

— Iris, she/any, 8teen, 🇨🇦/🇺🇦, ADHD, dyslexia.

Cabin one counsellor, Clark Kent’s wife, Adrian Chase fangirl, Vito Scaletta’s sugar baby, Mattheo Riddle’s arm candy, busy woman.

𐔌 . ⋮ open reqs .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

𑣲⋆ fandoms & aus — wip

“This what ‘Sauga feel like in the nighttime.”

[irisnextdoor]

Popular!Reader x Loser!Luke Castellan

♡ popular!reader that has both a fan club and a hate club

♡ loser!luke that has people asking ‘who?’ when he’s brought up

— Masterlist

• nerd!luke relationship hcs

• …

[irisnextdoor]

nerd!luke who adores popular!reader

🩰 0.7K — headcanons, possibly suggestive, established relationship, luke is lonely & a thief & a comic nerd, fem!reader’s cabin is unspecified, luke is a loser, reader is implied to be mean & to have ppl that like-like her.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝ i love loser!luke so so so much he’s my fav luke au other than pastor’s son!luke !!!!

𝒩erd!Luke who.. is universally known to be attached to his girlfriend’s hip. he doesn’t necessarily feel like he fits in anywhere but right beside you. on the rare occasion he is begrudgingly without you, it doesn’t come without the question, ‘What? No girlfriend today?’ ‘She finally kick you out, or what?’

𝒩erd!Luke who.. cannot let you leave the cabin without something of him on you. a superman keychain attached to the belt loop of your skirt? yes! a necklace with his initial showing on your collarbone that he stole? absolutely! a hickey on the side of your neck, where it’ll be on full display with your hair tied up? 110%!

⤷ he simply CANNOT let the guys think you mustered up the courage to leave a guy like him. you’re his, and he has to leave his mark on his person!

𝒩erd!Luke who.. simply nods his head and hums when you complain about the new demeter girl. he doesn’t have a clue on who she is, but he’ll pretend he does, that way he doesn’t interrupt your ranting of how ‘She just gave me the dirtiest fuckin’ glare ever! Like, what did I do?’

𝒩erd!Luke who.. feels the blood rush to his face whenever you hand him a handful of comics, or a physical copy of an old-school game he wouldn’t shut up about. the concept of you thinking about him in your mundane life makes luke weak in the knees. you, the girl who plagues the mind of every other boy at camp, is thinking about him and buying him gifts feels like a dream.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. tries a little extra harder in sword-training when he goes up against an ex of yours, or someone who once had an obnoxiously obvious crush on you. who cares if they hit him back? he’s the one who has you to patch him up. he always wins, at the end of the day.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. before everyone returns to camp, walks the streets of long island as a normal, unsuspecting boy. he can’t draw attention when he walks into stores he can only dream of—stores that feel like they’ll charge him for just breathing. it’s worth it though, as long as you smile and kiss him on the cheek when he shows you the expensive bracelet he stole for you.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. gets slightly extremely embarrassed when someone mentions the lipstick stain on his bright orange collar, or when someone points out the hickey under his ear. ‘Ooh, looks like Luke got real lucky, huh?’ still actively rings in his head when it gets too dark in his cabin.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. can’t shut up sometimes. all the time it’s ‘I thought of this new sword technique when I was eating, and I can’t wait to try it out tomorrow. It’ll be like—’ ‘And then, Iron-Man found out that it was Bucky that had killed his parents, so he—’ at any hour of the day. the only solution? grabbing him by the jaw, and pulling him in for a kiss.

⤷ though, it only works sometimes. sometimes, luke just keeps on rambling between the times where you have to pull away to breathe. making out with you, and being able to talk about avengers civil war is elysium on earth for him.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. sits quietly as he was told to, as you get ready for the date he had planned. with his hands on his lap, he watches patiently and contently as you rush back and forth across your cabin to grab this shirt, those shorts, these bracelets, and these necklaces.

𝒩erd!Luke who.. has clenched fist as he watches people flock to you, talking about gossip he doesn’t care less about when it’s from their mouths. why were they talking to you for so long anyways? don’t they know you’re busy with someone who actually matters? him?

𝒩erd!Luke who.. revels in watching you get possessive, and jealous over him. he loves nothing more than overhearing you, talking to some girl that was apparently flirting with him. ‘Hey, I know you think Luke’s cute. I get it, as his girlfriend. Just like, know for next time he doesn’t like people touching him like that. Boundaries.’

𝒩erd!Luke who.. makes sure you know how much he loves you, because you make him feel seen. no matter how much you make fun of him being a geek, or a loser, or a nerd, he knows that you’ll make it better with a kiss to his temple, and an easy, ‘I love you lots, pretty boy’.

— @luvlcastellan11 special lil tag

[irisnextdoor]

do ppl still give a shit about loser!luke and a popular!reader or no and i should burn all the headcanons i have

[irisnextdoor]

Wrong Number (Not Really)

⤷ You give someone your ex’s phone number.

Luke Castellan x ex!reader

🔱 textfic — toxicity, luke beats up random, luke IS crazy possessive, multi-pov, luke pretends to be you, luke and reader are bad people in their own respective ways.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝ I LOVE TEXTFICS!!! i think these r so fun to make & i love smaus with my wholeeee heart. IGNORE THE TIMESTAMP ISSUES icba to fix it.

[irisnextdoor]

Don’t Ruin It (Please)

IN WHICH: You’re his best friend. He’d never ruin what he has with you. Until, of course, you two get drunk and he confesses that he’s thought about kissing you. A lot So.. Why not try it out and see if it’s weird?

🎞️ 2.6K — drunk reader & mattheo, flirting as a joke (not really), the sense of feelings being ‘weird’, sloppy makeout, friends with benefits lwk.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝. he has a side profile i’d cry about in the middle of the night after he ghosts me on snapchat is that poetic

The familiar burn of firewhisky trailed down your throat as you took another swig from the bottle Mattheo managed to smuggle in. He was so proud of himself an hour ago when he presented it to you in your dorm, promising that he ‘won’t even get that drunk’, or that he’d ‘take real good care of you, like a babysitter.’

Looking at the both of you now, you figured the idea of one nursing the other was long gone.

You both sat in your bed, limbs sprawled out with little care as to where they went. His leg was on top of yours as he sat across from you, your foot on top of his other leg. The past hour had been mindless talk of gossip, who annoyed whom, and just how disgusting this new girl’s haircut was.

“Stop hoggin’ it, damn.” Mattheo grumbled, taking the bottle from your hands with an annoyed click of his tongue. You whined dramatically, tossing your head back to look upwards. “You’re so mean—so evil.” He simply hummed, his lips around the rim of the glass.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep sweet-talking, and we’re gonna have an issue.” Mattheo replied sarcastically, licking his lips clean of any lingering alcohol. Your eyes naturally gravitated towards the action before you ripped your gaze away. It felt as if you had committed an unspeakable act and had to apologize for it.

It always felt that way. You think about your best friend in the wrong context, you realize you did, and then you get a little ashamed about it. You think about kissing him when he leans in a little too close to whisper a joke to you. Then, your mind wanders to just how quickly you’d ruin the friendship with that—all because you couldn’t keep to yourself.

Admittedly, Mattheo’s friendship was comparable to few or none. You were sure everyone says this about their best friend, but he really was the best. He was funny, gave good advice (sometimes), was always there for you, held your hand in crowded places, and would even sleep over when you asked him to, albeit in the same bed and with little to no space between you two, but still.

You couldn’t possibly ruin that just because your heart raced a little faster when he looked at you for too long, or because he smelled extra good that day, and you suddenly wanted a taste for yourself.

“Yuck,” You fake gagged. “Don’t you ever say I’m sweet-talking you again. I’m in a good mood today.” Shaking your head, you waved your hand in a dismissive motion. Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek with just enough force to conceal the smile you felt tugging on the corners of your lips. “Yeah, thanks to me, you’re in a good mood.”

Mattheo gestured to himself with both hands, moving up and down his torso, the bottle still in one of his hands. He flashed his usual sharp-toothed grin, and you felt all your resolve to stay composed melt. “Don’t take the alcohol’s credit, that’s a dick move.” “Well, I am the one who brought you the alcohol. You should be thanking me—your bestest friend ever.”

His speech was slurred by now, dragging out the very last syllable in the majority of his words. He leaned to one side too hard, only to blink, realize what he was doing, and lean to the other side. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t doing the same thing. Blinking slowly, your head feels too big for your neck.

He bent down, leaning off the edge of your mattress, putting the bottle with less than a shot left of alcohol down on the floor beside your bed frame’s leg.

Now sitting up upright, Mattheo slumped forward. He put his hands flat against his thighs, looking up at you from his lashes with his chin tilted slightly downward. “Where were you today for Charms?” He questioned bluntly, his eyebrows knitted together. His eyes were narrowed as he stared at you expectantly. Before you could answer, Mattheo opened his mouth and continued speaking.

“I missed you, y’know. It was shit not having you beside me whisperin’ in my ear. I missed you a lot. What was more important than class?”

‘What was more important than me?’ was the question he truly wanted to ask. It wouldn’t leave his mouth, and it was as if his physical body knew how terrible an idea it would be to ask you that. He had a horrible feeling that the answer wouldn’t be what he wanted. Is there another man in your life? A better one? One that’s a good listener, one that can be serious in situations that don’t surround him, one that doesn’t get too angry over nothing?

Mattheo knew that he’d ruin the only good thing in his life if his lips were any looser—if he was unable to hold himself back. Why’d you miss Charms? Was he too overbearing? Were his jokes too mean? Were his playful shoves too rough? Did you see nothing but a silly friend in him when he thought everything of you?

Never mind. He strayed too far from reasons you’d skip a class.

He’s just lucky his eyes managed to stay on yours this time rather than wandering downward like they usually did when his head was full of you, you, you.

“I took a nap. My hair wasn’t looking the best, so I just took the loss and went to bed.” You casually shrugged, your explanation sounding mundane and normal. Mattheo’s panicked explanations died quickly in his head, replaced by a sense of embarrassment. “Please, you probably still looked good. Who the hell were you tryin’ look pretty for?”

He watched as you snickered, grinning at his question before you rolled your eyes. His gaze fell to your lips, and he stretched into a soft smile. The firewhisky residue gave your lips a shine that made Mattheo want to see if you tasted exactly as he thought you did. “Uh, myself? I’m always tryin’ to look pretty for the next window I walk past, y’know.”

“Not for me?” Mattheo asked, half-sarcastic and half-earnest. Please say yes, he pleaded mentally. Wait, don’t say yes. That’ll be weird. Don’t be weird, please. Be a little weird just for him. Don’t be weird for the both of you. “I mean,” You dragged out as your eyes shifted away from his. You held a sloppy, almost embarrassed smile on your face.

“A little.” Shit, why’d you say that? You shouldn’t have drunk. Why’d you drink? You know you talk a lot when you’re tipsy, let alone drunk. It was gonna slip out—why’d it slip out when you weren’t ready? Can you take it back? Will he take it as a joke? Selfishly, you hoped he’d take you seriously.

Nobody spoke after that. The feeling that either one of you ruined the good friendship you had lingered in the air. It was thick, suffocating, and borderline nauseating. Your heart raced quicker than you could’ve imagined, sending a wave of panic down your spine. You made things weird. Your worst fucking fear is unfolding, and you can’t even panic properly with your head being foggy.

Oh, Mattheo is going to hell for sure. You’re clearly panicking in front of him, and all he can think of is crawling on top of you and kissing you to prove how good you looked to him. “Really?” He managed, his voice rough and quiet. “Really.” You confirmed quickly, the two syllables rolling off your tongue.

You watched as the corners of his eyes softened by a fraction at your confession. Something in you—something delusional and frantic took it as a green light to keep on going. A small voice inside of you screamed protests against everything, but your lips couldn’t stop moving. “I always do. I dunno why, don’t ask me. Do you think I look pretty? Don’t answer that—nevermind. I’m talkin’ dead nonsense.”

“I mean,” Mattheo started. His demeanour was shockingly sheepish, looking almost nervous. He shrugged, “I have yet to think you’re ugly.” You sighed, and he immediately thought he fucked up. “Can’t you call me pretty properly?” “You’re really pretty.” He replied hastily, hoping he didn’t come off as too desperate.

“Like, proper pretty.” Mattheo now sat up straight as if it would erase the mumbling of his words, and how his tongue felt bigger than his mouth. “You know I think you are—you have to. ‘s not like I make it a secret of how bad I wanna kiss you.” He paused his drunken rambling to catch his breath. “But, it’d make it weird. I already got Theo n’ them on my ass ‘bout how I act with you. I jus’ don’t wanna ruin what we got.”

He didn’t realize he stopped talking when he did. His lips felt dry. His eyes couldn’t move away from you, no matter how hard he tried to rip them away from you. Say something, he mentally pleaded. Slap him, call him a freak, or tell him that he isn’t crazy to feel this way. Just say something. Anything.

All the times you’ve thought about kissing him, and then were immediately hit with a sense of shame and embarrassment, washed over you. You were thinking of apologizing to him as if he were a sacred figure for thinking such things of him, and he was thinking the same things of you?

Did he think of kissing you when he lingered too close in your personal space? Did he think of kissing you when he whispered in your ear at the back of a classroom, where it felt the world was only yours?

Did he want to apologize to you, too?

“Do you think it’d be weird if we kissed?” You asked, trying to get the answer to your two thousand questions subtly. You noticed as Mattheo pressed his lips together, finally looking away from you. “I don’t know,” He replied.

For thirty seconds you were silent. Thirty, painful seconds you didn’t say anything. “We could try.”

His eyebrows instinctively furrowed out of both confusion and shock. “What?” He muttered, cocking his head to the side. “We could kiss. Y’know.. See if it feels weird.” You elaborated, trying to sound as nonchalant about this as you could while shrugging your shoulders.

Merlin, you must be so drunk you’re going crazy. He said everything you felt, and then you go ahead and make it so much worse for yourself and probably for him, too. Mattheo slowly nodded as he gestured with two fingers for you to come closer. Without hesitating, you moved closer, leaving just barely enough space between you two for it to not be weird.

His fingers cautiously brushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek before dropping down to the side of your neck. “Are you sure? I might not be the best kisser, y’know. If I am, though, keep it to yourself.” Mattheo asked with his voice hushed and almost intimate.

You hummed, “Mhm. I won’t tell you if you suck at kissin’.” Your lips stretched into a small smile, matching the grin on his face. Through the smiles, Mattheo had leaned in and quickly pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes narrowed as he pulled away, clicking your tongue. “What was that?”

“A test kiss.” “Kiss me for real. Don’t be a coward.” The brunette snickered quietly, shaking his head; his curls fell onto his forehead. “Merlin, you’re demandin’.” He pressed forward, pausing with his lips infuriatingly close to yours. “Guess I gotta see if the real kiss is weird, huh?”

Mattheo didn’t have time to say anything else, or to close the gap first, before you smashed your mouth against his. He felt your hands search around his torso, his terrible school-mandated dress shirt. Your fingers tightly gripped his collar as your tongue ran across his bottom lip. A low chuckle vibrated through Mattheo’s chest at your nonverbal request to open his mouth just a little more.

Both of you tried so hard for even an ounce of control over the other. Mattheo was the first to deepen the kiss, even if you were the one to ask for it. You were the one getting on top of him, but he was the one whose hands guided your hip to stick to his waist like you were a holster. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back as he brought you down with him, his back hitting your mattress with a muffled thud.

Between kisses, between the small gaps where you two could breathe, he’d ramble almost incoherently; “‘s not weird”, “Feels jus’ right”. Now and then, his teeth would graze against your lips. His hold on your body would tighten. A groan would escape his throat. A whine would leave yours. Your hand would rake through Mattheo’s curls, to just tug on his strands.

After what felt like forever in just a few seconds—though, what was more likely several minutes—he had lightly pushed you away from him. He leaned further into the sheets below as he kept you at a small distance. You were about to pout and question him on why before Mattheo smiled. He smiled with glazed over eyes, his lips swollen and just a tinge redder than normally.

“Well?” He asked quietly, his gaze darting from yours, and down to your lips in a repeated cycle. “Well, what?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows in clear confusion. You just wanted to keep going. What was the point in conversation? Can’t he just keep on kissing you? “Well, Is it weird?” You, in a pathetic response, hurriedly shook your head no.

“Is it weird for you?” “Fuck no,” He laughed. “If it were weird, I wouldn’t have you like this.” Mattheo’s fingers tapped the side of your thigh, and you nervously shifted on top of him. There was a beat of silence before you shattered it with the question of, “Nothing’s changing between us, right?”

His demeanour quickly changed into something similar to comforting. Well, as comforting as Mattheo Riddle could be when drunk. “What? No. No, no, no. Why would they?” The way he spoke sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too. “We’re still best friends. Bestest friends that’ll kiss sometimes. People do that.”

Do people do that? He didn’t really know, or care to know. People do now. As long as this friendship doesn’t end, and he could still have your weight on top of him with your lips on his. It’s not weird. It’s totally, 110%, not weird. Something that nice couldn’t be weird. The kiss had cemented everything he previously thought impossible; Kissing you isn’t life-ruining.

What a fucking idiot he was to neglect himself of this—of you. It’s not weird to show your best friend love in a different way, is it? No, it’s not. This way is just more direct. Mattheo likes being direct, anyways.

You nodded hesitantly, “Okay.. Yeah. People do that. Can’t be weird.” “Exactly. Now get over ‘ere.” Mattheo demanded with a smug look on his face as he inclined his body forward, kissing you more softly this time.

The kiss, in his mind, was meant to act as a seal; A seal that your friendship wouldn’t end because of this. The softness and tender kiss were short-lived and were quickly replaced by a sense of need and desperation.

Bestest of friends can kiss without it being weird. At least, you two can.

[irisnextdoor]

So hypothetically

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.

—

You were home free. Home-fucking-free! Tyche herself must’ve blessed you tonight with your exquisite luck of being able to sneak out of your cabin. Gods only know how light of sleepers some of your siblings are. You promised that you’d offer the gods a little extra tomorrow if you can get away with this.

The cold night air nipped at your nose and your legs that had no protection, the shorts you wore seeming like a bad idea now. The zip-up sweater was wrapped tightly around you, your elbows held the straining thin fabric over your torso.

Camp Half-Blood in the summer night was often unforgiving; Raging hot, or irritatingly cold. Despite the humidity that clung to the air, the cold winds that occasionally brushed past you that made the forest behind you whistle. The whistle felt like some sort of call, or warning. You’d never know which.

You held the edge of your hoodie, ensuring to keep your face covered as if it would protect you from the harpies. You tiptoed your way to cabin five, your eyes locked onto the window you were meant to sneak in through.

Look, was it a little pathetic of you to sneak out around 1 AM for some dick from an Ares kid? Maybe. Was it good dick? Yes. So, you’re not that regretful.

“Hey.”

Your soul left your body. You were now completely regretful.

Turning around so fast you swore your neck cracked, you’re met with the sight of Luke Castellan. Luke Castellan who was casually leaning against a small fence. Luke Castellan who, despite his posture, looked at you like he stumbled upon a fantastic business deal—calculating, planning, and absolutely smug.

“…Hey.” You mumbled, most likely looking like a deer in headlights. Wide eyed, tense shoulders, and unable to move. “Wha-What are you doing here?” Stupid question to ask in hindsight, considering he was cabin eleven’s counsellor, and camp’s golden boy.

“I could ask you the same thing, Bambi.” Bambi. Hilarious. Luke pushed off the fence and took a step toward you. You took a step back, he took two more. “Just restless is all. Thought a walk would help.” “With the harpies around? Sure. Real believable if you’re twelve.”

Shit. A nervous laugh left your lips as you forced an awkward smile. You shifted your weight from heel to heel as you loosely crossed your arms over your chest. Panic made it hard to think. Bargain, damnit, bargain!

“Please don’t tell anyone,” You pleaded, dropping your arms and shoulders. “I could get in so much trouble, Luke.” Taking a step toward him, you could see him more clearly. His eyes tracked you and every small movement you made, looking you up and down as if you were simply prey.

“I can’t let you off the hook that easy, y’know? Camp’s got rules for a reason. Peace, to protect honour, to make sure girls like you aren’t sneaking off for some hookup.”

The way he listed off reasons made your skin crawl. His voice was low, his words hushed, though the firmness in his tone was unmistakable. It left little room for bargaining.

“But,” Luke continued. He flashed his golden smile. “I’m nothing if not a man of needs.” He held out his arms before letting them drop, the smile still on his face. Taking a small step closer, he grabbed the collar of your sweater. “C’mon, show me how sorry you are.”

He tugged you closer as you stumbled over your own feet. Slowly, he guided you forwards as he walked backwards, pointedly away from the Ares cabin. “You can do that, can’t you? You’re always so eager. You can show me that, right? I’ll keep my mouth shut n’ save your pretty little reputation. The younger kids look up to you, y’know? It’d be a shame if they found out you were a slut like this.”

Luke spoke, keeping his eyes on yours. He talked to you like you were small, someone unable to comprehend bigger topics. It would’ve angered you, if not for the situation at hand. All you could do was nod your head and hum as he took you away. He smiled and nodded along with you.

He brought you to a secluded, small clearing, in the forest. Trees surrounded you two, and a log was on the mossy ground. His hands had yet to release the tight hold he had on your collar as he sat down on the log, bringing you down with him. A hand let go of your sweater and gently brushed over the crown of your head. His hand was light, comparable to a summer’s breeze.

Luke quickly, and without warning, grasped the strands of your hair and pushed you downwards, forcing you onto your knees. Your knees dug into the cold dirt, a groan leaving your lips as you scrunched up your face. “Sorry, sorry. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His words were comforting, but his hand was a reminder of what he could do if you didn’t show how badly you didn’t want to be told on.

“You don’t want me to tell Chiron you were trying to be a slut on camp property, right?” You nodded, your eyes shifted down to the ground before Luke tightened his grip. The first silent warning of ‘Don’t look away from me’. “Exactly, pretty girl. Earn my silence.”

He patted his thigh, and the implication was clear. Largely, unavoidably, clear. “Unzip it for me.” He tugged your head closer toward him, your hands planted flatly on his thighs now. With tightened lips, and a huff, your fingers found the zipper to his fly and slowly dragged the pull tab downwards. A pleased hum vibrated through his throat. “Atta girl.”

His grip on your hair loosened by a fraction as you wrapped your hand around his cock. With a deep inhale, you brought your lips to the tip, and pressed a light kiss onto it. A shaky breath left Luke’s lips. You pressed another kiss, and then another, slowly making your way down to the very base.

Eight kisses long.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, y’know that? I’m starting to think you want me to tell Chiron.” He tugged at your hair again, until your lips were back at the tip. “Properly.” Begrudgingly, you opened your mouth and slowly — purposefully slow — put your lips around his cock. Luke’s hips thrusted into your mouth slightly, before he seemingly held himself back.

“There we go,” he sighed. His hand left your hair completely, tucking a loosely strand behind your ear as your head bobbed up and down. You gagged slightly as he thrusted up, pushing himself deeper into your throat. A whimper escaped your chest, and Luke apparently took great pleasure in such an embarrassing sound. Something like a chuckle vibrated through his throat, the corners of his eyes sharpening.

Both his hands found each side of your face, gently cupping your cheeks as he guided your pace, as if he were just using you. Which, he very well was. Grunts and moans escaped his gritted teeth, the threat of harpies still lingered. Not too loud. But, fuck, it’s hard to remember that when you were so warm, so eager, so painfully you.

“Look at me,” he said, panting. “Wanna see your pretty eyes.” You obeyed, looking up at him through your eyebrows. He hit the very back of your throat, and a single tear prickled the corner of your eye. Luke wiped it away with his thumb, brought it up to his lips, and kissed the tear away from his skin. His golden smile was back on his lips.

He cursed, throwing his head back to the starry night sky. His eyebrows were tilted upwards, and a faint flush was spread across his cheeks. He moved your head faster, making sure you went from the very tip, and right down to the base, your nose touching his abdomen. Two fingers tapped the side of your cheek before he pulled your head away from him, his cock leaving your lips with a quiet pop.

Breathing heavily, you looked up at him with confusion. Were you not doing good enough? Was he gonna actually tell on you? Is this the breaking point? Should you have tried harder?

“Come here. Sit down,” Luke demanded. You listened. You had no choice. As quickly as you could, you crawled onto his lap, your knees holding you up as you tried to find a comfortable position. He stopped you before you could get far. His fingers curled around the waistband of your shorts, tugging on them.

“Take ‘em off.” “What?” You mumbled, furrowing your brows. “I said, take them off.” Blinking, you thought about it. I mean, taking off your shorts in a forest isn’t really fucking ideal. Luke’s hand trailed up your thigh, and tightly squeezed. “I could be saying a lot more to Chiron tomorrow. Is that what you want?”

After a moment, you shook your head. You put a steadying hand on his shoulder as you pulled your shorts off of one leg. Luke decided that was all he needed. The firm hand on your thigh gently slid up to your waist, his rough hands feeling soft. Warm, almost. “Get comfortable. Go on, pretty.”

You gritted your teeth together at how casually he demanded you around. Though, as you mentally cursed him, your arms wrapped around his neck comfortably. As if to praise you, Luke patted the small of your back, like it was a silent ‘Good job’.

A wandering hand trailed down your waist, stopping only when his fingertips brushed against the band of your underwear. Despite your breath hitching, despite your hold on his neck tightening by a fraction, his hand continued. Luke’s hand pulled your underwear to the side. You couldn’t see him, but you could tell he was flashing a small, sharp smirk.

“You’ll let me, right?” Luke asked, his whispered words rolled off his tongue like a plea. The unsaid part of his question was, ‘Try and say no’. You nodded, quietly humming in agreement. “Right,” He sighed.

His free hand tightly gripped your hip—his other hand still held your underwear off to the side—guiding your hips to perfectly suit him. His heavy breathing, each puff of breath hit the shell of your ear. Luke was excited. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but he couldn’t wait to just break you in.

Break himself in, to some extent. You would be his in someone’s point of view. Every time you looked at the forest, every time you’ll glance over to this empty little patch of trees, you’ll think of him. He’ll think of you every night from now on, just as he had been. It’s only fair, no?

You could feel the tip of his cock purposely graze your clit—teasing you, depriving you from any sort of relief. He intended to push you to your very limit just to see how long you’d let him fuck with you like this.

Playing with his food, in a way.

“Hurry up,” you whined. “We don’t have all night here.” Luke snickered, “Yes, we do.” You didn’t. It felt like you did with his cock continuously brushing against your entrance, and then your clit once again, then again.

“Please?” Luke offered the question, waiting for your obedient repetition. “Please, Luke. Please, please, please.” Your begging sounded much more desperate than intended, your voice cracking, sounding weak and pathetic. “Okay, okay.” Luke exhaled a shaky breath.

He pressed his cock against your entrance before the hand on your hip pushed you downwards. Feeling him fill you up fully and irrevocably was nothing short of overwhelming. You put a hand over your mouth as Luke groaned through a clenched jaw. “Fuck,” he gasped, “Feels so good for me.”

Luke started off slow, almost tender. Soft, intimate grinding into you, intending to keeping you full of him. Your cunt full, and your mind full of Luke. He wanted to keep this pace up for a while. He really wanted to. Your quiet breathy moans that escaped the palm of your hand were heavenly in his ear. The way your hips buckled to match his in a desperate attempt of pleasure was mind numbing.

He held onto you tighter as he bottomed out, his cock practically leaving you completely empty as he slowly pulled out. A panicked, upset, whine left your chest before you could stop it consciously. Once again, without warning, thrusted upward with a grunt. A gasp left your lips, “Oh, shit,” you moaned. “Quiet.” He managed to keep his voice firm, unwavering.

Deep thrusts made your brain melt. Your muscles relaxed as your breath quickened. Having his cock mercilessly ruin you from the inside out made it hard to do anything but moan and hold onto him. Even as he relentlessly rammed into you, he was able to kiss your temple. “So good for me. Grippin’ my cock so beautifully. Go on, pretty girl, don’t stop.”

You tightened around his length, and Luke wondered how he’d ever be able to pull out. You sucked him in like you never wanted him to leave. It felt like you were made for him, and only him. How were you ever going to visit a stupid Ares kid when he was always right here? Who knew that getting you to bribe him for his silence was the way to fuck you.

Maybe the gods of Olympus were blessing in some ways. Some sick, disgusting ways, they were blessing him with you whimpering on his cock.

“Luke..” you started, only to be cut off with a shush. “I know, pretty. I know. ‘s too much, you got this. You’re so perfect, such a perfect slut just for me.” His thrusts slowed, the quick and steady pace being abruptly cut off. “Tell me you are. Tell me you’re just for me.”

“Yea,” you nodded frantically. Your hips grinding against his, seeking a deprived pleasure. “Only for you. Just for you. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” “There we go, baby.”

Luke’s pace quickened once more, quickly falling back into the same rhythm. The small clearing of the forest echoed from the sound of skin smacking against each other, muffled moans, and curses that sounded reminiscent of the other’s name.

He muttered something inaudible under his breath as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “Close,” Luke hissed. “Fuck, ‘m close. Lemme.. Lemme finish inside you, yea?” You were so gone mentally that you couldn’t think of anything but agreeing. You mindlessly nodded, humming. His arms wrapped fully around your waist, holding you closer. Tighter. Harder. He drilled up into easier—faster.

“Right there.” Luke groaned, planting an opened mouth kiss against your neck. “So good to me. Gonna cum in this pretty cunt.” He bit your shoulder, teeth grazing your delicate skin. You could feel his cock twitch inside you before the once gentle bite turned into a chomp.

Your thighs shook as you felt your eyes roll back into your skull. A pathetic gesture, even you can acknowledge that, but you couldn’t help it. Feeling Luke spill inside of you, having him come undone underneath you was enough to have you forget how you felt dumb—pathetic.

Luke could only think of how you were his. Undeniably and irreversibly Luke Castellan’s. He bit the inside of his cheeks to stop a grin that tugged on the corners of his lips.

He kissed your jawline, a soft and warm action. “Don’t worry, Bambi. Won’t tell anyone you were sneakin’ out. You’re forgiven.” Luke thought, ‘Maybe. Maybe you were forgiven. Until he needed you again, at least.’

[irisnextdoor]

academic rival!theodore fingering u whilst telling u to read. send post.

“Keep on,” He commanded, “I didn’t tell you to stop.” His fingers curled inside of you as you gripped the edge of the library’s table. You and Theodore were tucked away in a secluded corner, where dust settled amongst the oldest of books. Where nobody goes. Where nobody would interrupt you.

“You’re the worst. The absolute worst.” You managed through gritted teeth, only for the attitude to momentarily melt away as you held back a whimper. Theo laughed as you placed your forehead against the surface of the open Charms textbook. “I don’t think that’s what the book says. No way you’re that stupid. Read properly.” He spoke with such a mocking tone, like you really were dumb. Like this whole thing didn’t start because he interrupted your study time.

You’re anything but stupid. Theodore knew that. That’s why he loved watching your brain melt, watching you—smart, calculating you—go dumb on his fingers. He loves watching you look just as stupid as he felt when you were around. Who knew you could be tolerable when you were whining rather than complaining? “You read, you freak. You very clearly can.” He spoke too soon. You put a hand over your mouth as Theo picked up the pace.

The core in your stomach grew hotter and hotter. Warmer and warmer. Your chair was pulled closer to Theo’s, an arm wrapped around your waist to reach just under your skirt. Just to push your panties to the side to give himself enough room. His usually cold and rough hands were warm and constant. “Nah.” he shook his head, leaning in closer to your ear. “I wanna hear you do it. I’m stupid, remember? I’m just idiotic Theodore Nott, who can’t do anything right.”

He repeated your own words back to you. You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could focus on anything other than the constant repetition of ‘Oh, Merlin,’ in your mental. Your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to read the words in front of you. “The bond of blood,” was all you could get out before your voice quivered. Theodore was relishing in this, you could tell.

“Awh,” he dragged out, “Maybe you are stupid. It’s okay, I like dumb girls.”

niccolo govender infects my mind. theodore nott infects my mind. i am not normal about italian bastards. merry christmas to those who celebrate take this as my gift

[irisnextdoor]

maybe adrian chase with a reader who gets attacked by someone in an alley, but before he can swoop in, he watches her absolutely beat the shit out of her attacker— que him becoming stalker-ish with the girl, trying to figure out what's her deal (nothing, turns out she's just a random person who got lucky that night... and cute.)

Secret Hero

IN WHICH; Vigilante is sure he’s found a new hero!

Word count: 1.8K

Tags/warnings: Fem!reader, stalking, adrian invites reader to a (fake) orgy, reader whoops ass, adrian still believes reader is a hero, adrian is referred to both Adrian and Vigilante, reader is a (tired) office worker, canonical socially unaware adrian.

･ ⟢ ⋮ Iris’ Message ゛༝. sorry jt took so long to post! i’ve been travelling all week😭😭 and WOAHH WE HIT 100+ FOLLOWERS HELLO??

The sound of a metal crash can hitting the floor echoed through the empty street. Vigilante stopped mid-step, his ears perked upwards, listening for any more noise. It was clear the noise came from the alleyway, his eyes fixed on the walkway just some yards out.

He waited a moment, and then another. He had to deal with this professionally. It could’ve been a fluke—a rat running around a little too fast, or some cat trying to eat dinner.

“Get off me!” The shout was immediately followed by Vigilante running as fast as he could toward the alleyway. Was the alleyway always this far? Did he always run this slow?

The unmistakable sound of a punch being thrown, and then the grunt of pain immediately after, hit Vigilante’s ears like a bullet. Hurry, goddamnit, hurry! A lady’s in trouble, and you’re jogging?

He skidded to a stop, just in time to see said damsel in distress continuously kneeing the assailant’s nose. You had your fingers tightly gripping his hair, tugging him towards your knee, hitting his nose over again over again. Blood streamed down his face.

The man’s hands searching everywhere for a place to grab hold and stop the pain. He failed, the pain in his nose was too much. His blood was fresh on your knee and knuckles on your right hand.

Vigilante didn’t know what to think as you tossed the man to the floor, who was so out of it he simply flopped down, and kicked him in the ribs one final time. The cherry on top was watching you spit on his barely conscious figure before walking away, not sparing Vigilante a glance.

Adrian was both confused, and weirdly aroused at the scenario he just witnessed.

Was there seriously a new hero in Evergreen? And he didn’t know about them?! How is that even possible—Adrian knows, like, everything and anything about the heroes in Evergreen.

The more he thought about it whilst patrolling, the more irritated he became. How the fuck did you slip past his radar? Were you so powerful that everyone kept you a secret?

He’ll find out one way or another.

Over the next two days, you were the only thing he could think of—secretive and mysterious you. Surely you had some top secret mission, and that’s why you’re in this shitty town.

That’s why he didn’t know you. Now he does. He’s never letting this mysterious hero out of his sights again.

He had to figure out who you worked for. He knew you worked for someone, but he didn’t know who. The FBI? The CIA? Batman? The question gnawed at his brain for days. Which, is why he decided on one simple solution.

Watching you for the next couple of weeks to see just when you’ll slip up. When you’ll leave an important letter open. When you’ll leave your laptop signed in. When you’ll leave your curtain open.

When you’ll look outside your window, so Adrian can get a good look at you. When you’re deciding which outfit to wear for the next day, comparing this shirt to that shirt. When you’re looking at yourself in the mirror.

Adrian’ll be there waiting, watching and hoping.

—

Adrian watched you from an alleyway, you just a few feet back from where he stands in the shadows. This was the same route he watched you take every weekday. He could walk this same route with his eyes closed. That’s how often he watched you walk home.

It was to make sure the mysterious hero got home safely (not that you needed his watch, of course. Heroes like the two of you didn’t need help) and to see if you exited out of any Bentleys.

He watched your figure intently as you walked closer. Were you concealing a knife? Were you holding some top secret files? Was your hero costume underneath your weird office attire? What a great coverup! It’s almost as good as his busboy uniform!

Adrian’s gaze followed as you walked past the alleyway he was hiding in, watching as you nervously glanced over into the darkness. Did you know he was in here? Is that why you started to act nervous—to seem like a regular civilian? Holy hell, you’re good at this.

Once you were some feet in front of him, Adrian stepped out of the darkness and walked slowly behind you—at least ten feet behind. That way you could barely hear him walk, and he’d be able to catch Batman’s new Robin off guard.

He watched as you approached the apartment complex’s door, typing in the code in the keypad that he could never guess. 2738. two-seven-three-eight. Perfect.

“Hey, wait up!” Adrian called out, extending a a hand outward, hoping to catch your attention. You looked over your shoulder, holding the door open, one foot inside the building. “Can I get in with you?”

You looked from side to side before politely smiling, “I haven’t seen you in here before.” You’re observant! Y’know, you’re already giving him way more information than you think, hero!

“Just visiting a friend.” You cocked an eyebrow upwards, looking down at Adrian who stood at the bottom step, with your eyes narrowed. “Really?” “Yup.”

There had to be a reason as to why you’re so cautious, right? You’re totally nervous that he’ll find your secret stash of weapons! Maybe he’ll find the Bat-mobile!

“C’mon then.” You tilted your head toward the apartment hallway, holding the door slightly wider. He flashed a toothy smile, his canines on full and complete display. “Thanks,” he mumbled before slipping past.

The scent of your perfume made his brain short circuit. Had he smelled that at a crime scene before? Was that scent ever lingering on a criminal? Would the same scent linger in his sheets?

He followed you silently to the elevator, rushing to press the up arrow before you did. Didn’t want this really cool, and really hot hero, to judo-flip him! He’s had that happen way too many times by way less attractive people.

Adrian nervously shifted his weight from the tips of his toes to the backs of his heels, tapping his fingers on his thighs as he waited to hear the ‘ding!’ from the elevator.

His eyes shifted over to your figure, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. The tired look on your face and the weathered office attire went super well with your whole vibe.

“Hard day at the office? Yea, I get that.” You looked Adrian up and down, committing his busboy uniform to memory. “Boss always hounds everyone. I’m always just like,” a drawn out groan leaves his lips.

Ding.

“A hard day at the office is everyday at the office,” you simply state, making your way to the elevator, Adrian close behind you. He laughed at the dryness in your tone—maybe a little too hard. “Tell me about it.” Please tell him about it.

The elevator stopped at the third floor, your floor, and Adrian watched as you exited. “Goodbye, miss!” “Bye, sir.”

Adrian pressed the ground floor button, his fingers twiddling with your business card in hand. You didn’t notice when he snatched it from your work bag. He read every single word with care, looking for any hidden message to other heroes.

He found nothing except the eggshell white of the card, your full name (which, he already knew), your work number, and location of said work.

A little look around your work place won’t hurt, right?

Adrian kissed the card and held it close to his chest. He was so close to finding your real identity—your super identity—he could damn near taste it.

Don’t you worry, pretty lady, Vigilante knows just how you feel.

—

What a silly coincidence that the busboy you briefly spoke to was walking very slowly past your workplace as you exited the building. His glasses were slightly crooked, and his hair a mess. The collar to his flannel was popped upwards, and the fly of his jeans were unzipped.

Don’t question why your gaze fell down there, it just did.

“Oh, hey! It’s crazy seeing you here!” The man greeted walking up to you with the same toothy grin you vaguely remember him flashing your way. “Man, the world works in weird ways, huh?”

Adrian had quickly changed in his car—away from the public as to not commit public indecency—tossing the Vigilante costume off him in a hurry. He hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“Yea, it does.” You muttered in response, furrowing your brows in confusion. You opened your mouth to ask him just why the hell he was here before he cut you off. “I’m Adrian, by the way. I shoulda introduced myself to you yesterday but..” he trailed off, his gaze falling to his shoes.

What was normal sounding enough?

“But I had, like, a crazy orgy waiting, y’know?” Great save, Adrian!

What the fuck, Adrian? You thought, tilting your head to the side at his confession. “Didn’t know that kinda stuff happened there.” You wish you didn’t know.

“Uh, yea! It’s crazy fun! You should totally come sometime. That is, if you’re not busy at nights.” He offered, and you quickly rejected.

What kind of request was that? The question flooded your head as you looked him up and down again. This guy is attending orgies. Maybe you should get out of the house more.

In Adrian’s mind, you declined because you’re busy at nights. Busy fighting crime. Busy doing what he does alone. Which—he could totally be a great sidekick with such a hot hero like yourself.

“Awh, that sucks.” “Does it?” He brushes off your sarcasm with a laugh. “Ah, guess I should get going,” he says, looking down at his watch. “Gettin’ a little late, isn’t it? It gets kinda dangerous at these times.”

He was hoping you’d pick up on what he was saying. There’s bad guys to catch! There’s pieces of shit that have to be dealt with! C’mon, pretty hero, just give him a sign!

“It does.” You replied, raising your eyebrows. You felt like the danger he was talking about was right in front of you. “Well,” your hand wrapped around your work bag, “I should get going.”

“Oh—yea! It was nice seein’ you again! Still crazy how we ran into each other!” He shouted as you walked away from him, making your way to your car. You offered him a polite wave in response.

Adrian Chase—Vigilante—knows when a person is being dodgy. And you, hero, are being dodgy.

He’s so close to cracking the code he can practically feel it. It’ll just take a couple more weeks of surveillance and a few more coincidental run-ins and he’ll have you.

Goddamnit, he’ll have you in his fingers.

[irisnextdoor]

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.”

I LOVE THINKING OF ADRIAN I LOVE HIM I NEED HIM (also hey!! i started this account like a week ago?? and i’m 20 followers away from 100??!! WOAH)

[irisnextdoor]

if you requested something, as i have one notification in my inbox, i am unable to see it!! i am so sorry to whoever it is!! tumblr hates my guts!!

[irisnextdoor]

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.”

I am so serious when I say this Adrian Chase might be rhe closest man to my dream husband Baby please come home!! the cats miss you!!

[irisnextdoor]

can’t believe like my second post ever got 1000 notes i promise to give yall more munch adrian!

[irisnextdoor]

You’re the best writer for Adrian fic’s, love love love your work 🫶

I’M LIKE?? I LOVE YOU SOSOSO MUCH ANON😭😭😭😭

also side note, cannot believe i hit 50 followers already!! i started this account like 4 days ago lol😭😭 ugh you guys will be spoiled soon!

[irisnextdoor]

It’s So Not Stalking!

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.

Adrian let out a long sigh, his shoulders falling, his tense muscles relaxing by just a fraction. Yeah, he isn’t a stalker! He’s just looking out for you. …Right?

[irisnextdoor]

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.

“Let’s go again, yea?”

[irisnextdoor]

i love being hyperfixated!! i love pumping out fics like it’s my job!! fuck schoolwork!!!

[irisnextdoor]

Mattheo making you spit in his palm for lubricant before fucking you stupid🫠

“Spit.” He demanded, his voice rough and firm, leaving no room for any argument. Mattheo knows you inside and out (literally), and he knows you’d find a way to tell him to, ‘Spit on your own damned hand’.

He held out his hand, his palm upwards and empty. You felt the edge of his hand press against your bottom lip, meeting your gaze with hazy eyes. His eyes were narrowed, as if daring you to not listen—daring you to defy him.

“You’re the worst,” you grumbled. “Didn’t tell you to speak.” The quip was almost immediate, his eyebrows furrowed. You bit your tongue momentarily to hold back a groan and a, ‘Just stick it in already’.

Begrudgingly, you spit into the palm of his hand, earning a mischievous grin from Mattheo, the infuriating bastard he is. “There we go, pretty girl.”

The hand you had just spit on wrapped around his cock, going up and down slowly, extending the time you felt empty and desperate. “Hurry up,” you whined, “Been waiting forever.” You shifted your body, your lips tightening into a straight line. “I’m trying to make this easier for you, y’know. You should thank me.”

Mattheo levelled the tip of his cock to your entrance, pausing momentarily, as if to drag out your need. He thought it was funny to watch you slowly come undone—to beg for it.

“C’mon, hold my hand,” he offered up his ‘clean’ hand to you, grinning. With a large sigh, you took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining. “Quick leaner.” Mattheo commented before pushing his length into you, inch by inch.

“See? Didn’t that make it easier? You can say it did, ‘s okay.”

I LOVE WRITING MEAN!MATTHEO!! I LOVE WRITING A PRIDEFUL!READER!! I LOVE MAKING MATTHEO BREAK SAID PRIDE!!!