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#wasn’t expecting my little non-request blog to reach that!
stardusthuntress · 4 months
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Follower Celebration!!!
YOU GUYS!!! Thanks to you all, I’ve passed both the 99 and 104 followers marks before I got a chance to do anything!!! YOU DA BESTEST!!!!
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How crazy is that???
Also sorry for vanishing for a while there, needed to take a break and focus on helping family during the holiday season. I love my family, but they do require an awful lot of effort these days, so I had to limit myself on here to just reading you guys’s stuff, but I’m back now!
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SO, I thought that made it time for an update!!!
I’m working my way towards a big deadline at work in ~1 week, and then I’ve got a bunch of WIPs I want to finish up and post!!!
Also in the process of learning how to use AO3 so I can post stuff on there and support other fellow writers!!!
AND gonna attempt to make a form for my taglist!!!
And if you tagged me in something and I haven’t responded, I promise it’s up next on the stuff I wanna catch back up on!!!
And for a fun follower mile marker celebration I wanted to ask you guys for your thoughts on what you’d like to see finished soonest! I don’t get much chance to interact with you all on here since I don’t exactly take requests, but I do like to hear back from you guys about what you like to read the most!
Side note, this doesn’t guarantee I’ll be able to find the inspo to finish whatever wins the most votes/comments next, BUT knowing that’s what people want to read does help me find the motivation to sit down and finish up a current WIP instead of steering another new WIP…. Hehehe!
And, again, ALL of these will eventually be finished, just might take some time to do so. This is simply a quest to discover what you guys is most hungry for rn!!! So pick your fav, pls!!!
Taglist: @bambambunny @cw80831 @amorfista
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misschifuyu · 3 years
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holloe this is my first time requesting on tumblr and is it alright if i request anything non angst for haitani brothers? you can let ur imagination run free i just want content for them 😭😭😭😭 have a nice day !!
- hello my love !! im so honoured to be the first blog to get a request from you omgkdsdk, we also love to see a fellow haitani enthusiast so i do you like this little drabble !
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Train back home
genre: fluff
warnings: none
The ringing of the last whistle was heard loudly throughout the station, even from the inside of the cabin.
Without a doubt, everyone at the station knew of the train’s immediate departure, and yet it still remained immobile. A low, impatient groan was heard before you, as a result of the circumstances.
Admittedly, there had already been a 15 minute delay, causing other passengers to mumble to each other about what the cause could be.
You, on the other hand, simply had to listen to the one sat in the seat in front of you complain about the tardiness.
You, on the other hand, simply had to listen to the one sat in the seat in front of you complain about the tardiness.
You, on the other hand, simply had to listen to the one sat in the seat in front of you complain about the tardiness.
“Why the hell is it taking so long?”
As if you were the driver or the lord of the train tracks, he voiced his complaints to you whilst he leaned on the window, staring out at the busy platform.
You were by far the only ones waiting aimlessly around, but at least you were sat down unlike those stood outside, awaiting the train that was yet to arrive on the rails.
"Ran, we're leaving already...Besides, what's the rush to get home?"
The eldest Haitani sibling, as much as he'd have a proud smile on his face most of the time, had a horrible case of very, very short temper when it came to getting somewhere.
He was like a child that would constantly ask if they were there yet, how long there was left, that they were bored...
"Frankly, I don't want to spend all afternoon in here"
Giving him an apathetic look, you turned to look out the window yourself, instantly feeling the train rumble before finally starting its trajectory. One less problem now, you thought.
Now you simply had to make sure that the snoozing Rindou on your shoulder wasn't startled awake unless you wanted an annoyed outburst from his behalf.
See, the three of you had been spending the past few days in the city of Yokohama; not over anything related to the brothers' infamous delinquent tendencies, but rather because you had been wanting to visit the city just south from Tokyo for quite some time now.
When the two found out that you were going alone, they had immediately invited themselves along, saying that there was no telling what was going on over there when it came to scums like the ones they dealt with on a daily basis.
You were actually quite happy to spend a little trip with them. The Haitanis had known you since very young, and they were inarguably one of the closest friends you had, as much as their fame was anything but usual.
Unfortunately, you hadn't taken into account that they would be quite...difficult travellers if a journey was any longer than a few stops on the metro.
This was really all coming into light now that you were on your way back from the busy days you had all happily spent.
At least, you thought, only one of the two was posing to be a pain.
Ran's temper slowly calmed back down once he realised that you were on your way back now, as much as the 40 odd minutes he'd have to spend sat down hurt him.
"You can take a nap, if you'd like. I'll stay awake until we get there"
As you spoke, he turned his head to look at you, his expression having visibly softened from just a few minutes earlier. The sight of his sleeping brother made him let out a low chuckle.
"Don't be like that...he said he was tired before we even got to the station. Not his problem he can actually handle a normal train ride"
His eyes widened at your words, looking straight into yours. There was a clear, mocking tone in his voice as he responded to your remark.
"He's just a child still, he falls asleep anywhere. Don't think he's much different from me when he's awake on these things"
You believed his words, honestly. Rindou was impatient all the time, so you'd expect him to be the same if stuck in a cabin for a good while.
"But, alas, he is sleeping and you're not"
"I'd fall asleep too if I was in his position"
Eyebrows slightly raising, you watched as the one before you turned his lips up into a knowing smile.
Ran has always tested his luck with you, and though you could never be sure if he was being honest or not with his comments, they'd always catch you off guard.
You held much affection for both of them, and it was rare you ever got to spend so much time with them.
It frightened you, more times than you'd admit, to know the boys you once knew as little middle schoolers were now out and getting involved in dangerous situations.
But, at the end of the day, they'd always visit you in top shape, a few scratches here and there maybe, but in one piece.
It had been nice to see them live a relatively normal life during the days in Yokohama and, of course, you had taken many photos to remember the trip.
And now you were to return back to Tokyo, specifically to their beloved Roppongi. Back to the usual, old life, watching the days go by with them always somewhere nearby.
"Earth to Y/N"
Snapping out of your thoughts, you gave a little jolt as his voice reached your ears. A soft intake of air was heard by your shoulder, and you quickly made sure that you hadn't woken Rindou up accidentally.
"There you are. You've gotta stop daydreaming like that, you know? I mean, I'm right here, after all"
Unable to hold back a giggle at his words, you hoped you weren't moving too much for the resting one beside you.
As a result, a genuine smile decorated Ran's features, his skin tinted with the orange hue of the sun's rays that filtered in through the window.
Admittedly, you had always deemed him attractive; it was just a little complicated to tell him when you were such good friends with his brother.
You didn't want to let the baby of the Haitani family feel left out, of course.
It was simply another thought of yours to add to the large collection you had of them. Above all stood the ones of appreciation for having found them, all those years back, and still standing by them to this day.
As the afternoon sights of Yokohama's outskirts passed by at a rapid pace, you could only wish to slow down time and hold the moment in your hands, smiling over at Ran as you softly petted Rindou's hair, still fast asleep.
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years
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Soooo first of I'm really REALLY happy that I've found your blog and your writing is AMAZING ❤️ And I wanted to ask for a Yandere! Loki x Reader maybe? Were the reader just has a normal life but then Loki sees her while the battle in New York and he can't get her out of his head. And he decides to kidnap her and bring her somewhere nobody can find her. (Sorry if there are mistakes English is not my native language 😅)
Thank you so much, dear! I'm so sorry for being slow with requests. I hope you will enjoy this one! Btw I’m not a native either, but I think your English is totally good 😌
Of gods and monsters
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Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, implied stalking, kidnapping, allusion to non-con.
Words: 1165.
P.S. Of course, I just had to include one of those overused quotes 🙄
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Watching you sleep became one of his favorite things a long time ago, but watching you sleep on a magnificent, enormously big canopy bed meters away from him gave Loki a very different kind of satisfaction: he thought the feeling of owning you could explain it, but there was something else to it, something he couldn’t quite comprehend.
When he first saw you, it was barely the time to get distracted: Chitauri were flooding into New York, and he was fighting Avengers to complete his glorious mission. Yet that was the moment when Loki spotted a lone woman sitting on a bench near a small fountain, a book in her hands when she stared somewhere in front of her, not moving yet showing no great distress. You just sat there, in the heat of the battle, with Chitauri flying over your head on their vehicles. Strangely, you were unharmed while everything around you was promptly getting destroyed.
You reminded Loki of a sacred statue, an ancient deity carved in stone, silent and cold. You cared little for destruction and death surrounding you, deaf to sharp cries of pain and screams. Frozen in place, you were staring into the abyss, and the abyss didn’t frighten you.
Of course, much later, when the Avengers were defeated and Loki gained control over the Earth, he learnt that time you were under heavy medication, indifferent to the world surrounding you, but he didn’t change his mind, watching you secretly from afar. No, you were exactly who he saw you were, and the more he watched, the more Loki knew he couldn’t just leave you among those pathetic human beings surrounding you.
When you shifted slightly beneath the silky rose blanket, his gaze returned to your peaceful face, and Loki sensed you finally waking up: the sleep potion he gave you wasn’t a strong one, but, locked in a human body, you needed a gentle treatment.
Moving your head on a pillow, you covered your eyes with your palm, rubbing the skin a little before you slowly got up; the curves of your body now on display because of a shiny see-through fabric of the ivory nightgown Loki dressed you in. Enjoying the view, he smiled when he realized the potion was still working: your movements were slow and clumsy; you didn’t ever register waking up not in your own bed.
“Did you sleep well?” He raised his voice once he spotted you trying to stand on your shaky legs, and you slowly sat down, turning your head to him.
You were looking at him with almost the same eyes you looked at the fountain that day in New York.
“I did.” You muttered in a quiet voice, observing the man you saw for a first time in your life silently. “Thank you.”
Letting out a soft chuckle, he stood up from his place and headed to you nonchalantly, giving you a chance to look at him in all his glory: enveloped in warm, dozy light, he was that God the short-sighted, foolish humans had always been searching for. But you weren’t one of them, he knew, and he wasn’t surprised when he saw the blank expression on your face instead of adoration and fawning. You were above all that.
“Who are you?”
You were still quiet when you asked Loki a question, and he felt a strange satisfaction seeing you reacting with such grace. When he stayed silent, your eyes starting darting towards the room if you could call this space a room at all. Of course, you had never been to Asgard and could barely imagine what it was like: a place he brought you to looked like something in between a huge hall and cherry gardens lit with light as if Loki brought the sun inside. There was even a little pond surrounded by pale marble stones, and you could see something gleaming in the water. With a lavish, dark-wooden canopy bed, dressers and vanity, it all looked breathtakingly beautiful, but... fake, phantasmagoric, like a composition in an art museum, carefully constructed but having no connection to reality. It was as if this place were frozen in time.
“You have always liked Greek myths, haven’t you?” Loki said, stopping only when he reached your bed and sat close to you, bringing his hand to the back of your neck and softly brushing his fingers against your warm skin. "I remember you had so many books about ancient gods. If I piled them up, they could reach the selling of your apartment."
For the first time, Loki felt you trembling just a little at the mention of your apartment and clear implication that he had been there. Funny, but the fact you were a little scared of him now gave him satisfaction, too, and the way you looked at him told the man you started being aware what exactly was happening.
"What was your most favorite myth, once again?"
Slightly massaging the back of your neck, he then set his hands on your bare shoulders, squeezing them tight until you tensed; he started rubbing them once he felt you flinching. Loki didn't need you to answer his question: he knew well you loved the story of Hades and Persephone. It seemed amusing, if not ridiculous to him that people find this barbaric ritual romantic, but maybe it was for the best: if you liked this odd tradition so much, Loki decided you would find his gesture sympathetic and even compassionate.
Despite the fact you were now aware the man close to you was not a human being, you looked at him with dignity, "Are you a god of the dead, then?"
"Sometimes I am." Tilting his head and letting his long black hair fall on your bare shoulder, Loki touched your cheek with his thumb, and you felt his breath on your skin. "You don't have to worry, I'm not dragging you to Hell, darling, though I won't let you return back to Earth either. This 9 to 3 months rule seems quite silly to me."
"Back to Earth?"
He saw the confusion and visible discomfort on your face when you realized you weren't even in your own realm, and a wicked, sadistic pleasure rose somewhere inside his chest; pure joy washing over him once the realization hit you. There was only one God in front of whom people of Earth were kneeling now.
"Why are you frightened? I expected more from a girl who didn't run from death in New York." You got up on your still shaky legs with Loki watching you with a wide green on his face when you grabbed the headboard, almost falling down: were you truly thinking of escaping him now?
Oh, he was enjoying it so much more than he thought he would. Maybe there was something in that silly myth you humans loved so much, finally.
"If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."
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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks
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goldenpineapples · 3 years
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Six-Fic Six-Sentence Sunday
Hi all! Fics below the cut. I know I don’t use this blog ‘properly,’ but I wanted to try one of these preview posts at least once as a form of self-motivation! I haven’t been able to read or write as much as I’d like this year, but I think that’s finally turning around!
Stay safe out there, everyone! Be seeing you!
Cyberpunk: Xadia
T+ // Sci-fi AU, aged-up characters. Roughly based roughly on TTRPG Cyberpunk setting, and now some video game as well! A sequel to the 2020 Birthday Bash chapter
Rayla lets Callum a little further into her life, and its details start connecting dots in Callum’s memory. The two work to uncover her past, in spite of both gang law and corporate policy.
===
The crowd surged as Rayla stepped into a small spotlight alongside the vocalist, her guitar swinging wide as its now-distorted notes ripped through the charged room. The frontman reared back, microphone raised, and howled with redoubled energy.
“Hunt down- hunt down- hunt down- your self-esteem!”
Then the lyrics were all but lost in the anguished roar of Rayla’s solo, and Callum winced, electing to cover his ears and stay in the crush of bodies to keep from losing sight of her. She wasn’t watching the crowd, wasn’t watching her hands, only mournfully sweeping her eyes along the edge of the stage, her mouth twisted in a grimace as she played.
Vollarian’s Day
T+ // Very Late Valentine’s prompts.
A mix of canonverse / other AUs, to follow the Rayllum Valentine’s prompts from earlier this year (2021)
Excerpt from Chapter 1
===
“So what’s the book for?”
“Oh,” Callum perked up, reaching for the sizable tome, “just a little… story, I guess, that made me think of you. Of us.”
She eyed the book in his hands. “That looks pretty substantial for a ‘little story.’”
“It’s a collection! They’re not bad, but… here we go- ‘Vollaria’s Everlasting Ardor.’ This is the one.
Rayla’s ears twitched at the name. ‘Vollaria’ didn’t exactly sound… human.
“This isn’t one of the stories with the shirtless men on horses, is it?”
Untitled ‘Edge of Tomorrow’ AU
M+ // Xadia AU (?), major character death, potential graphic violence. Based on the concept of the Japanse light novel “All you need is kill,” which was adapted to the hollywood film “Edge of Tomorrow,” this is a not-so-nice time loop story.
Since a certain someone brought it up a long, long time ago...
When the seemingly-random minor devastations began, the pentarchy could do little besides disregard them as magical events of the world. Now, several months into a shaky alliance with Xadia, the military might of both factions is near-spent attempting to contain what the Elves have guaranteed is a calamitous threat. A lottery is drawn to determine which unlucky souls will be sent to the next expected target...
===
The last thing Callum could focus on, as his vision darkened, was the moon over the elf’s shoulder. Visible in the daytime despite the glare of magic light from nearby. Its surface rippled as if liquid, like a drip into a bucket- some trick of death, he was sure…
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
And then he was breathing again- huge gasps of air, forcing his lungs to work again -but they were fine. He was fine. Sitting up in his bed in the castle, the chill of early hours again settling around him like morning dew.
Drought
T+ // Canonverse Non-Rayllum side story related to the fighting soon after the breach was opened. What happened to those that inhabited the lands close to the world was torn open? A one-shot relating the tale of a human that fled the fighting on the Xadian side of the border, who happens across an earthblood elf’s forest, dying as it is too close to the breach.
===
“Even a small amount is enough.”
She watched the human ignore her cupped hands, opening his canteen and carefully pouring a tiny measure of water into its cap- less than she’d hoped, but more than she’d dared believe the man would ever give her.
When she took the offering back to her Tree, pouring the water over its single exposed root, the human roused himself to anger once more.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? We both need that more than your dead tree!”
Already beginning to feel the slight reinvigoration of the water, Milyn offered the vessel back. “Not dead.”
The cap was snatched away, but only secured after the man took a greedy swallow of what precious water was left to them.
Untitled Minority Report AU
T+ // Modern Sci-Fi AU (Yeah, again) Another AU based more closely on the Minority Report movie than its 1950s short story source. 
Prediction of the near-future is now within reach of the modern world, and law enforcement has successfully used it to prevent violent crime, including murder. For Rayla, an officer of this division, it’s a slow day of monitor-watching… until it isn’t.
And yes, pink hair as requested.
===
“He’s still out on that farm?”
Rayla was already pulling on her street jacket and lense-ordering a dropcraft to the address Callum had given her all that time ago. “Far as I know.”
“Rayla?”
She turned. “Yeah?”
“Promise me you won’t run.”
Soren’s face slackened into a deadpan as she hesitated, not saying what they both knew, and Rayla shrugged before leaving him alone in the control room, spinning the prediction’s truecopy between his hands.
Already Dead
Undecided rating // Xadia ‘low fantasy’ AU. This is the... ninth iteration of the very first fanfic I ever wrote, starting in April 2020. Its timeline, story, and characterizations have been rewritten so many times, but I feel like this might be the right story I want to tell? It’ll be my love letter to the fantasy genre that helped me so much in my life, as well as the fanfic world I’ve grown to love.
Callum embarks on an elf-supervised pilgrimage to research primal alternatives to dark magic, while Rayla comes to terms with what being an assassin entails.
===
“What did he do?”
Runaan’s eyes narrowed. “His crimes have been committed, and his guilt recorded. All that’s left is his justice.”
Rayla looked away from the glare, down at her hands, reciting what she knew would please him. “Assassins don’t decide right and wrong, only life and death.”
“Just so.”
She swallowed the rough lump in her throat.
“I’ll do it.”
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missdawnandherdusk · 3 years
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an americano
Remus X Reader (coffee shop AU) 
Summary: He always asked for the same coffee order, but one day, he finally asks for your name. 
A/n: So, I put up a post and the lovely @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room​ responded first with a request for a Remus drabble so here it is! Our soft nervous precious Remus. I limited myself to about 1k words, so it is truly a drabble, but I’m willing to do a part two if y’all are into it. It’s super cute, and yes, I may or may not be a barista at a coffee shop, but that’s beside the point. and I am seriously judging you if you like americanos
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“So, you come here often?”
He had been coming here for weeks. Maybe a few months. And every time he followed the same routine. He’d walk from the small bookshop across the way and into my café just as my shift was coming to its midway point. Always in a jumper. Always with a beat-up satchel. He’d order an americano and sit in the corner booth and tap on his laptop and work through a book, frowning and typing again, until his coffee was gone, and he seemed satisfied with his progress.
Remus. The name he’d put for the order. The first time I wrote it on his cup was customary. By his third visit, I didn’t bother. I knew who he was. By his fifth, he just waved, and I smiled, already pulling the shot of espresso for his americano. After a while I’d write stupid things on his cup. The slower days when we were the only two in the café. The color of his jumper, a silly variation of his name, whatever the main character of his book was. 
“Seeing as I work here,” I baited with a smile. “Yes,”
“Right,” He stammered. “Um...”
“Do you want another coffee?” I prompted, as he looked down, blushing a bright pink. 
“I... uh.” He finally glanced up. “I don’t know your name,” He rushed out.
I looked at him a moment, taken by surprise. 
“And I would ask you to join me for coffee, when you’re off your shift of course... or maybe on your day off if you even want to not that you have to, but I realize that I can’t exactly do that if I don’t know your name, so...” His nervousness left me scrambling to keep up with his rushed words. 
“Y/n,” I gave a reassuring smile. “And I’ll join you for coffee as long as I don’t have to drink an americano,” 
Now it was his turn to look shocked. As if my acceptance of his offer wasn’t expected. 
“I’m sorry, what?” He stumbled. 
“Americanos,” I clarified. “I don’t know how you manage them, because they’re just awful,” 
Whatever he had been thinking was abandoned to defend his drink of choice. 
“They’re not that bad,” He refuted. “And I’m lactose intolerant, so I don’t really have much of a choice,” 
I pursed my lips and chuckled. “Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute,” I sat across from him, setting a cup of coffee in front of him that held a warm amber color. He studied me and the cup. 
“This has milk in it,” He accused. 
“Oat milk, completely lactose free,” I rose my own mug of coffee. “It’s the only way I take my coffee anymore. I haven’t put any sugar in it, I don’t know how sweet you like it and I didn’t want to overdose you,” 
“Oat milk,” Remus pondered, picking up a fair share of sugar packets. “I never would have thought of that,” 
“Here’s to good coffee, not watered-down espresso,” I raised my mug and we both took a sip together and I watched his eyes widen at the coffee in his cup. 
“This is brilliant,” His eyes lit up. 
“You’d think that after the few months you’ve been here constantly, you’d figure out we had non-dairy options,” I teased lightly, and he blushed slightly. 
“I... I was distracted. So, I ordered what I knew,” He stammered, staring at his coffee. 
“Distracted?” I pressed. “Lost in too many books then?” 
“Well, yes. But no,” He chuckled. “There’s this pretty barista who works here that keeps me off balance.” I hid behind my mug my cheeks warming. 
“That so?” I tried to play off, but he caught my flush and grinned. “Then why the hell did it take you three months to ask for my name?” I accused, chuckling. 
“Well, I don’t know!?” He laughed. “You just so... you!” 
“What is that even supposed to mean!?” I giggled. 
“I don’t know,” His face was red from the laughter and the unanswered questions. 
“I’m glad you did finally ask,” I admitted, fidgeting with a spare napkin. “Are you a student? You’re always here with a book,” 
“Grad student,” He clarified. “Working on my dissertation. I have an internship at the shop across the way,” 
“You’re there most days that I work,” I noted. “You always come for coffee,” 
“Yeah, well,” He ducked his head. “I may or may not have accidentally memorized your schedule, so that our hours are close to the same,” We both blushed again. 
“Little creepy,” I raised an eyebrow, “And kinda a shame. I’d love to come and bug you while you’re working,” 
“Oh... I—you like to read?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he backtracked. “Not to say that you don’t! But it’s a shop filled with—” 
“Vintage books, classics, literature, mythology. I know,” I smiled. “I frequent there. Even before you came around,” 
“Really?” 
I nodded and nursed my coffee. “I might not seem like it, but I’m also a student. I work here for the extra cash,” 
“Right,” He fumbled. “I—read anything interesting lately?” He redirected the conversation, and I could tell that he was more comfortable with the topic. It wasn’t hard to pick up that he wasn’t one for small talk, but his eyes lit up at the mere mention of a book. 
“Some work by De Pizan, my professor is doing a seminar on her,” I gave. “It’s really interesting, I’m enjoying it a lot,” 
“De Pizan,” He mused. “Middle Ages? Rhetorist, right?” I nodded and smiled. “It’s been a while since I’ve read anything of hers for class, or fun or that matter. I remember liking her work though, she was a proto-feminist,” 
“Yes...” I was surprised by his base of knowledge.
“Sorry, I know I ramble,” He ducked his head.
“I think it’s cute,”
“Oh... well,” Remus was becoming a permanent shade of pink. 
“You don’t do this sort of thing often do you?” I prompted. 
“What gave it away?” 
“Well, I mean there is the whole name ordeal. Then of course, you’re a shy book nerd, that’s obvious, but honestly, you’re nervous for all the wrong reasons,” I supplied. 
He gaped at me as if he didn’t know what to address about what I said first. While he was deciding, I reached out and placed my hand over his. 
“As someone else with anxiety, let me tell you, you’re doing just fine.” 
“Yeah?” His eyes were hopeful. 
I nodded and glanced at the clock. “Well, my break is over, but you’re welcome to hang out.” I stood, gathering both of our empty mugs. “And thanks... for finally asking,”
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masterlist
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more like this: 
hufflepuff dating headcannons
stars above
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Cheating Bastard and Puppy Brother (Cheater!Lucifer x Reader x Mammon) Part 4
Part 3
WARNING: Offensive language, sexual themes, dubcon
Diavolo had thousands of request forms to oversee and approve for the upcoming school festival, he called over Lucifer to help him segregate the doable from the impractical, but while Diavolo already finished half of his share, Lucifer was only on his seventeenth request form. He kept glancing over his D.D.D. resting on the corner of the table, which was odd, Diavolo thought, because Lucifer usually kept his device on silent and tucked away in his pocket. 
Diavolo called him but Lucifer didn’t respond.
“Lucifer,” he repeated. Again, it was like Lucifer was deaf.
Diavolo sighed and then snapped his fingers, sparking red lights in front of his aide.
Lucifer drew back in surprise, almost shifting into his demon form before calming down and facing Diavolo. He cleared his throat, “Did you need something?”
“No, but it seems like you’re preoccupied. Too preoccupied to do your work,” coming from Diavolo, the words weren’t meant to reprimand but to console. It has been years since he has seen Lucifer stressed to the point he couldn’t do his work.
“Maybe you should take a break, Lucifer. Finish the paperwork tomorrow,” Diavolo suggested. He may be the Crown Prince of Hell but even demons valued friendship.
Lucifer was going to decline but then his D.D.D. buzzed. Not wanting to appear too eager, he gracefully gathered the remaining paperwork and sorted them in the rightful drawer before bowing to Diavolo and leaving with his phone.
Once he was out of the office, Lucifer checked the new message but was disappointed that the sender wasn’t who he was expecting.
He opened Asmodeus’ message, thinking that it was yet another complaint about one of their brothers stealing his beauty products, but was surprised to see that it was a link to the campus newspaper’s website.
His D.D.D. was almost obliterated when he read the headlines:
[RAD DEMON AND HUMAN EXCHANGE STUDENT DATING!?]
Beneath the bold text was a picture of Mammon and you eating dinner at a human-food restaurant. When you dated Lucifer, he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the relationship public and Asmodeus’ flirtation with every living being (including you and fellow human, Solomon) did not count as dating, so this was the news of the century.
Lucifer didn’t understand. Were you doing this on purpose? Were you trying to get on his nerves?
He thinks back to that fateful night at that restaurant and wonders when everything went to hell.
He ran a hand through his hair and marched out of the academy. He needed to talk to you, and he was going to shove Mammon into a freezer for what he did.
***
Lamia checked the comments on the discussion board beneath the news article. Demons made fun of humans for being too nosey and judgmental but her species was just as bad. Harsh criticisms on both Mammon and that human garbage flew in one after another.
The True Pazuzu: Did that moron brother officially lose it?
I Am Roth: An idiot demon and a human -- they’re perfect for each other!
Hari_ng_Aswang: I can’t believe that human had the audacity to seduce one of the avatars. What a slut!
rosemarysbabe: What’s more shocking is that Mammon actually fell for her.
DwendeBoi: @rosemarysbabe How could you possibly know if Mammon actually likes her? She could just be a plaything for all we know!
Mammon’sClubPresident: @DwendeBoi That’s right, no one deserves Mammon but me!
Lamia wondered if this piece of news reached Lucifer. Surely, this coupled with that one, glorious night she and Lucifer shared should finally end his relationship with his human whore. She has had her fair share of human flesh, often breaking marriages and sometimes even tempting men of faith away from their God.
She chuckled and thought back to that night …
*
Lucifer tugged on his tie and breathed. Tonight was supposed to be a very personal, very special occasion but before he could go home and celebrate with you, he had to deal with Devildom’s entertainment industry.
He was Diavolo’s proxy in this pseudo-formal gathering. Pseudo-formal because this party had nothing to do with Devildom politics and everything about rising stars finding potential benefactors. Asmodeus would’ve fit right in with this crowd, Lucifer thought.
He glanced at his pocket watch. The party was supposed to end two hours ago and he should’ve been back at the House of Lamentation giving you your one-year-anniversary present.
While he debated with himself whether to stay or not, a familiar figure slithered towards his side. Lamia wore a slinky silver dress that was treading between sinful and tasteful, a human man and even the average demon would sell his soul for a single night with her. But Lucifer was immune to her so-called charms. The only creature that could tempt him was you.
To her every attempt at conversation, he merely smiled politely or nodded tersely. Sometimes he gave no reaction at all, finding the desserts on the buffet table more interesting.
Lamia, the rising star of Devildom’s film industry, did not take too kindly to being ignored. She’s never been one to chase after her partners (it was always the opposite) but she has always been fascinated by the seven brothers, especially the oldest. The fame and glory of having him would secure her position as a celebrity. She only came to this stupid party because she heard he would be coming as the royal family’s representative. But now he’s like this?
Throwing caution to the wind, she decided to up the ante and tried to press herself against him as she spoke. “Hey, Lucifer … I’m actually feeling a little lonely, would you perhaps -- ”
Lucifer gracefully stepped away before they could touch and she almost stumbled. He cleared his throat, “I beg your pardon, I think it would be best if we don’t start any rumors by acting like we’re close friends.” He wore his practised smile but his tone was firm. He then turned around and went to the balcony.
Lamia was left on her own, clenching her hands tightly and cheeks hot-red from anger and embarrassment. Suddenly, one of her competitors approached her, snickering.
“Don’t even bother. Lucifer never pays anybody attention, especially now that he has that human for a lover.”
Hearing this made Lamia a hundred times more bitter. She bit her cheek so hard she drew blood, but then she quickly composed herself and gave her rival a sneaky smile. “We’ll see about that,” she declared before turning on her heels and approaching the buffet table.
She reached into her shell-shaped bag and pulled out a small glass vial. It was a little gift from a witch fan of hers, the girl was not her type but she had talent, particularly with aphrodisiacs and Lamia asked for this special brew just for tonight. Just for Lucifer. She didn’t actually think she had to use it but it’s a good thing she kept it in her purse.
She poured all the contents in a single glass of blood-spiced wine. She then picked up a glass of crystal water and then followed Lucifer to the balcony.
“I want to apologize for my earlier behavior,” she said, handing him the potion-laced wine.
Lucifer glanced away from his D.D.D., gave her a small smile and took the wine.
“I know we just met and I’ve made a terrible impression on you so I thought we could start again.”
He nodded, but she caught his eyes when they ever-so-slightly rolled towards his D.D.D.
He was definitely distracted.
Lamia raised her own glass, “To new beginnings.”
*
Lamia grinned. With this, she can kick Mammon out of the entertainment business and get Lucifer for herself.
Part 5
EDIT: Lucifer didn’t cheat. Lamia tricked him using an aphrodisiac, i.e. she raped him. Now, I don’t want to get too pedantic or political because that’s not what this blog is for, but I will like to clarify that non-consensual sex is never okay. I don’t want you guys to think that just because Lucifer more or less takes the incident in stride that I take female-on-male rape lightly in real life. Do remember what this fanfic is truly about (for angst-inducing entertainment involving two demon brothers and not a sociological or political commentary) and that it is literally about thousand-year-old demons.  
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Note
Newbie here for all the hockey and Captain Swan nonsense (and pretty much everything else on your blog!) Can I request either "bloody kiss" or "a hoarse whisper “kiss me”"? Also, I definitely am interested in what Big Bang you just completed!
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Hi, hello, welcome to this nonsense! You can absolutely request both of those things and I can semi fill those prompts with far more words than I was planning on writing. Eventually, maybe these prompts won’t all be canon, but that’s apparently the vibe we’re riding right now. Everyone else is welcome to partake in the aforementioned nonsense of this blog and the kiss prompts extravaganza so I don’t keep shouting about the book I finished this morning. It was real dumb. Like, super dumb. Anyway, here’s some making out. 
“You know I could hear you?”
He doesn’t hear. Her. Emma. Almost hears. Words filter through a haze that appears to finally be catching up with Killian, eyelids fluttering and pulse steadying and he imagines a lot of that has to do with the placement of her fingers. Trailing across his forehead and just above one of his eyebrows, studying him with a sort of intensity that he knows only she has. 
Fiancée. She’s his fiancée, again. 
Even the thought makes his heart feel as if it’s going to beat its way out of his chest. Explode, possibly. That would be rather violent though. Could ruin the moment, as it were. 
“When was that, exactly?” 
He mumbles. Barely moves his lips. Can only manage to crack open one of his eyes and it’s not the one with the eyebrow Emma appears so intent on memorizing. Not that he’s especially opposed to the memorization. Of his eyebrow or any other part of him, not after another involuntary and far too long separation and he hopes Blackbeard drowns. 
Somewhere off the coast of Neverland. 
None of those mermaids are particularly merciful. In Killian’s experience, at least. 
“Couple days ago,” Emma says, “the chest started talking.”
He opens the other eye. “Be more specific.”
“You’ve got an exceptionally dirty mind.”
“Chose your words more carefully then,” he challenges, but there’s no real heat behind his words. Not that way, at least. “Do you think we’re winning now?”
“In the non-existent True Love race?”
Smiling as widely and as suddenly as Killian does threatens the structural integrity of his cheeks. Both of them. Muscles strain from lack of use and recent frown-like tendencies, and furrowing his brow even a little bit sends a flash of pain through all of him. Gods, but he’s tired. And strangely comfortable. Stretched across sheets that apparently boast a rather high thread count, though he’s still a little shaky as to what, exactly that is, and even less sure it really matters, not when her fingers are so soft and his heart continues to do that erratic beating thing and—“Last I heard your mind-reading powers were a little suspect, witch.”
“I don’t think we’ve reached the insult portion of the evening.”
He chuckles. Keeps smiling. Doesn’t even consider pulling her fingers down. Despite the growing need to kiss directly beneath her ring for as long as she’ll allow. “Let me know when we get there, aye? And yes, I do believe we are. Winning, that is. Underworld challenges, magical doors fueled by magical flowers. Am I missing anything?’
“Sucks we didn’t get a rainbow kiss.”
“Perhaps that’s waiting in the wings. Of romance and whatnot.”
Listening to her laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Bar none. The way it flutters out of her occasionally, like she’s still a little surprised that it happens and Killian used to worry about that. Not anymore; not now, certainly. Now, he wants to keep surprising Emma. Wants to be surprised. To never grow entirely complacent or completely content. Although, he’s awfully close to content now. If he’s being honest. 
Piracy often frowns upon complete honesty. 
“Maybe,” Emma concedes, “and you’re not letting me tell my story.” “You’ve got very distracting fingers, that’s why.”
She rolls her eyes. Keeps tracing and it’s wonderful and comforting and—
Killian hisses. Grits his teeth before he can completely school his features, which makes Emma’s expression twist almost immediately and he’s not interested in that. Unless the twist is coming from the precise way her hips tend to buck when she’s beneath him. As it is, her eyes widen and his breath catches and she pulls her fingers away. From the gash he’d almost forgotten was on his forehead. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she chants, but he’s already moving, and using the hook he’d removed hours ago to tear off a corner of the shirt he also should have taken off is not quite as simple as he’d like. Takes a moment for him to get any worthwhile fabric off, dragging it immediately across Emma’s blood-stained fingertips. 
“Stop that. Apologizing does not become you, Your Highness.”
“That’s stupid.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”
Her eyes widen. More. To an almost comical size, catching Killian off guard because he means those words as well. The syllables, too. Down to each letter and each sound that rolls off his tongue and he’d like to use his tongue for a variety of other things, but this feels important and a line they can’t come back from, and Emma’s magic surges. Jumps over him in a way that feels as much like a blanket as a semi-aggressive wave and he supposes there’s something in that contradiction. To the way he feels and the way they are and a True Love competition that absolutely does not exist. 
He knows he’s not bleeding anymore. Neither one of them move the fabric from her fingers. 
“I’m sorry,” Emma repeats on a whisper, shaking her head before Killian can so much as open his mouth to object, “for not thinking and not trusting and I—well, maybe the shell phone was another True Love sign. That puts us at three, at least. Definitely winning.”
Heart explosion does not hurt nearly as much as Killian expects. And his heart’s been yanked and squeezed and used against him, more often than he thinks is average. Even in this realm. So he’s got plenty to compare it to. Only now—well, he doesn’t think his heart is actually bursting and he cares less about the realm than the people in. About the flash of golden hair he noticed well before his eyes met hers and he knows he’ll think about the way she stumbled over her own feet in a magical doorway every single night for the rest of his already far-too-long life.  
He only cares about her. That’s the point, he supposes. 
“I love you too,” Emma says, answering a message from several days earlier. “How did you hit your head, by the way?”
“Blackbeard is a noted bastard.”
“God, fuck that guy.”
Scoffing is not laughing, but weariness is creeping back beneath his skin and Emma’s lips quirk up all the same. He’s staring, that’s how he notices. Unabashedly, so. And it’s entirely possible she’s blushing. “That’s the spirit, aye. You really could hear me?”
“Yeah. It’s, uh—there was tear magic involved, apparently, so I guess you couldn’t hear me?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question. Killian knows. Shakes his head anyway. “Right, right, yeah, I figured, and I...well, I knew you wouldn’t leave, too. Even when I wanted you to have left.”
“You wanted me to have left?”
“That sounds shit, that’s not—” Emma’s nose bumps his. There’s not much room between them. So, he kisses her fingers. Makes sense. Plus, he doesn’t have much space to do anything else. “That’s not what I mean, not really. If you left, then it was just...another failure, you know. Would have made it easier to shove into the corner, try not to think about it because I could say I always knew it would happen, or I expected it. But that’s as shit as advertised and I know you’d never do that and I don’t want you to do that, don’t want you to leave, not again or ever and—”
“I think you should kiss me,” Killian interrupts. Gruffer than he’d like, and he’s not capable of magic anymore. Can’t rip hearts out of chests or threaten them with anything more than this realm’s poor food options, but he’s fairly certain the golden-haired woman lying impossibly close to him on these ridiculously soft sheets is all too aware that she already holds his heart in both her hands. And he can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather it be. 
She moves. All arms and feet, fingers in his hair and mouth slamming into him, catching his gasp and his groan in equal measure while he tosses the goddamn hook on the floor. It falls with a clatter that draws laughter out of both of them and makes it easier to pull Emma against his chest, Killian already shifting onto his back while his tongue manages to accomplish at least a few of the things it would like to. 
Nails scratch and hips do, in fact, buck. Desperately searching for a rhythm and tearing a bit more at clothes he’s willing to burn eventually. There’s no rainbow. No swelling or invisible orchestra, save for the roar between Killian’s ears, but he can’t bring himself to worry and finds it ridiculous to care. 
He knows. Emma knows. The goddamn magical door knew. And his message got back, even if it wasn’t perfect. To her, just like he did. 
For as long as they both should live.
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vintagedolan · 4 years
Text
genius (egd)
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when college goes online, ethan gets to see you put your mind to work, and he realizes that maybe he can’t keep up
word count: 2.7k
warnings/tags: fluff, insecure!ethan, just lots of fluff okay
ps: this is my first imagine on this blog, feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :) 
When you had to go to campus for school, it just seemed like you were going to work for Ethan. The schedule changed each day because of your classes, but you always managed commuting back and forth well; after all, why live on campus if you could live with him for free. You usually gave yourself a few extra hours around campus - nine times out of ten, your favorite coffee shop - to get your work done. E and Gray respected your need to work on school, but sometimes it was hard to focus if they were filming a video around the house.
But with the switch to quarantine and therefore online school, everything had been turned on its head. And Ethan was acting... different
The biggest change had been your location. As soon as quarantine was beginning to shut down travel, Ethan begged you to come back from California to be with him and his family in New Jersey. 
It had only taken a few “Baby please, I can’t focus if I don’t know when I’m gonna see you next” type of pleas for you to succumb, and with online classes you had no reason not to. But that wasn’t the only change...
Your mornings started per usual - you were trying, no matter how futile, to stay close to your original schedule. When you woke up, you’d roll over into Ethan (if you’d strayed that is, sometimes you woke up wrapped up in his arms) and run your fingers along his cheek. It was always just enough to stir him so you didn’t startle him, but not enough to wake him up fully. Grayson had been nice enough to give the two of you their old room, and you soaked up the privacy while you could. 
“Morning baby,” he would always mumble, pulling you in tightly to his chest for a minute and nuzzling into your hair. You’d be content there for a little while, pressing gentle kisses to his skin until he loosened up a bit and you were able to get free. Then, he would lull back to sleep fully, curling up in the covers when you got up. You’d pull on one of his hoodies, a sports bra and some pants, then head downstairs, laptop in hand.
Since you didn’t have to commute, you gave yourself about an hour more of sleep, which meant you actually got up around the same time as Grayson. Most the time, even he wasn’t up as early as you during normal school back in California. But seeing him in the morning now was actually really nice - you and Gray had bonded so quickly when you met them, and he was instantly like a brother to you. You weren’t sure it would have worked out if you weren’t as close as you were.
Wednesday morning, he was headed out on a run, but was eating his breakfast in the kitchen before he left.
“Morning Y/N,” he smiled, passing you a plate with a piece of avocado toast and some cut up apples that had been sitting on the counter.
“Gray you didn’t need to make me breakfast!” You exclaimed, but your heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. 
“Early bird gets the worm. Besides, isn’t it almost finals week? I know that’s supposed to be hell, might as well get some good fuel in.” He said it casually, but you wanted to cry - it meant so much that he even knew that it was finals week in the first place. 
“Thanks. It really means a lot,” you said, throat a bit tight. 
“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, passing you and ruffling your hair as he headed out the door.
You ate the toast, grateful for something on your stomach as you started looking at the assignments you still had due this week. And as you expected, it was a lot. Lots of studying was a given, but you had a 30 page paper due by Friday, and you’d only made it about a third of the way through. You wanted to knock the rest of it out by the end of the day, but it was going to be hard, with lots of research involved. 
And so you made another trip up to Ethan’s room, snagging your backpack and smiling at his curled up form and quiet snores. With a sigh you left the room again, curling up on the couch by all the tall windows, trying to at least enjoy the view if you had to be stuck by your computer all day. 
Then the real work began. Website after website, journals, textbooks, citations; over and over and over again as you began to chip away at the paper. The world kept moving around you, mostly in the background. Grayson got back from his run, getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Lisa waved her good morning, leaving you to your work and not wanting to interrupt. 
Your attention shifted around 10am, when Ethan made his way out of bed and into the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He looked so soft in the morning, and you knew exactly what was coming before it even happened. You moved your laptop backwards, waiting.
Sure enough, he shuffled his way over to the couch, curling up on the cushions and laying his head on your lap, mumbling a bit as he got comfortable. You leaned down to kiss his head, running your fingers across his scalp and feeling him hum at the sensation. He was still tired - he always got up earlier if you weren’t still in bed with him - so it was no surprise that he dozed off again beside you. You simply reached over him, typing away on your computer as best you could. 
If you had it your way, you’d spend the whole day doing nothing with Ethan. You’d be content to lounge out with him, doing nothing. Since the boys had switched from their vigorous schedule, they’d both become so much more relaxed, and it was so nice to enjoy the free time you had. 
But you didn’t get your way. And the paper wasn’t going as easily as you thought it would.
So you wrote. And wrote. And wrote. It was like pulling teeth trying to piece it all together, and it was taking forever. The frustration mounted, and Ethan could tell you were stressed so he let you be, knowing that when you were doing school stuff it was better to just leave you to your devices. 
But come 6pm, he couldn’t take the look on your face anymore.
“Baby. Babe. Y/N.” It took three times to get your attention, but you peeled your eyes away from the screen, looking up at him. He looked sad, but you’d known him long enough to realize that he was worried.
You slid your laptop over to the arm of the couch, signaling that you wanted him to join you for a minute. You hadn’t even noticed he had a cup of tea in his hand, which he sat down on the table for you before he sat down next to you.
“You alright? You’ve been working all day.” His voice was soft, and his skin was cold. You realized suddenly that he smelled like a mixture of pine and saw dust. He’d been outside with Gray. 
“I’m okay. Just stressed out. This paper isn’t as easy as I thought it would be, but I’ve made it this far and I’m gonna finish it today if it kills me,” you explained, rubbing at your eyes. They were sore from staring at your screen for so long. 
“Which translates to ‘I love you but I’m not taking a break no matter what you say’, huh?” Ethan offered you a soft smile. You leaned into his shoulder, nuzzling up for a moment and breathing him in.
“Once I’m done I’m all yours. Promise,” you whispered. 
“That’s not what I’m worried about love. I just don’t want you in here all stressed out. I hate it,” he explained. 
“I’ll be okay,” you reassured him.
“I know, and I know you’ll kill it, like you always do. Doesn’t mean I like seeing you upset. What’s this one about anyways?” He gestured to your screen.
“Spinal cord injuries. It’s a case study about a 16 year old, focused on paraplegia, and patient education about autonomic dysreflexia.”
“Well, as usual, I’m fucking useless,” he mumbled. Usually when he said something about your intelligence in regards to his, he was joking. But there was something else behind this one that made your heart tighten a bit. 
You were about to ask him what was wrong, but Grayson came back in from outside - the workshop, no doubt - and made his way to the kitchen. 
“Y/N, you up for two Grayson meals in one day? I’m making veggie burgers,” he offered, already pulling out pans.
“Yeah that would be great actually,” you smiled at him.
“Alright, 3 burgers coming up,” he replied, not having to ask Ethan if he wanted one. 
“You got this. I’m gonna work on the video for a while, okay?” Ethan kissed your temple before getting up and leaving you to it.
With the quiet rustle of Grayson cooking in the background, and the warm tea waking you up a bit, you got to work at a much faster pace than you had before. Even so, you didn’t beat Grayson and he stopped by with a plate as you typed away.
“More brain fuel for the genius of the family,” he teased, sitting it down next to you. 
“Thanks Gray, love you!” You chuckled, immediately starting to eat, not realizing how hungry you were. 
It was good, as most things that Grayson made were, and it gave you the final boost that you needed. 
By 7:30, you had submitted the paper and felt like a huge weight had lifted off your shoulders. You hopped off the couch, scooping up all of your things and heading back to Ethan’s room. 
As usual, he was on his computer with his headphones on, editing away. You sat everything down, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder, a non-startling way to let him know you were there. 
He kissed the back of your hand before taking it and gently pulling, spinning the chair around with the momentum and pulling you down so you settled in his lap facing him. Like this, you were taller than him, and he reached both hands up to cup your face, one moving to take your hair out of the bun that it was in, strands falling around the both of you as he kissed you.
His scruff tickled you as your lips moved together, making up for the lost time of the day. His hands moved down to your waist, large and warm as he squeezed, his fingers moving under your hoodie until he found your skin. No matter how many times he did this, it always took his breath a bit, and he pulled back for a second to look at you.
“You finished your paper I assume?” He smiled, freeing a hand to tuck some hair back from your eyes. You rested your cheek in his tattooed palm, gazing at him.
“Yep.”
“Feel better?”
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?” He countered, confused. 
“What were you upset about earlier?” You asked. 
“Nothing.”
It was a knee jerk reaction, and he knew that you weren’t going to take that as an answer. You simply waited, settling on his lap and tucking your forehead up against the side of his neck, tracing over his collarbone tattoo while you waited for him to find the words. Sometimes, he found it easier if he wasn’t looking right at you to say what he felt. 
“You’re out of my league,” were the words he finally found, and it took all your power not to scoff. 
“Why do you feel that way?” 
“You’re so much smarter than me. You’re about to finish college, and I barely have a high school diploma to my name. You just wrote a paper, god knows how long, and I didn’t even know what you were talking about. I wouldn’t even understand it, much less be able to help you with it like I should. I just feel stupid, all the time.” 
There were a million different things you wanted to say, but you’d learned something while dating Ethan. For him, he thought anything you said was out of obligation. He felt like you were ‘just saying it to make him feel better’, not because you meant it. 
So instead, you’d learned you needed to show him. 
You got off his lap, ignoring the panic on his face as you sat back down, now facing the same way as him, the computer screen lighting up your faces. 
“What were you doing before I came in here?” You asked, keeping your tone neutral.
“Editing, you know that,” he said, even more confused. 
“No, what exactly were you doing?”
“Importing footage, splicing, adding transitions, text overlays. The usual,” he explained.
“Do you realize that I have absolutely no idea how to do any of that?” You said, turning to look at him.
“You could learn, I could teach you easily.” His eyebrows furrowed. 
“Just like I could teach you about spinal cord injuries.”
You let that sit for a minute, knowing he wasn’t going to have an argument against you.
“You are smart Ethan. You put your energy and your knowledge into your work, and I put mine into school, which I’ll eventually put into work as well. And besides, if anyone is out of someone’s league, you’re definitely out of mine,” you smiled.
“Well, maybe you aren’t so smart if you believe that, even for a second.”
There was light in his eyes again, and you knew the storm had passed. 
“Now then, when does that video have to go up?”
“Whenever.”
“Then I think we’ve both spent enough time staring at a screen today. Cuddles?” 
His answer was given by wrapping a strong arm around your waist as he stood you both up. You knew the drill; he was about to pick you up, pull the covers back and put you down in bed, but he paused. 
“Too many clothes,” he mumbled, a mischievous grin on his face. He quickly pulled his shirt off over his head - a fresh one, you hadn’t even noticed that he’d changed from what he’d worn all day. He tossed it on the bed before turning to you, fingers toying at the hem of the hoodie you had on.
He quickly pulled it over your head, and then he groaned.
“What?!” You giggled, looking down at yourself. 
“Regular bra’s I can handle, but those things are a death trap. I always feel like I’m choking you,” he gestured to your sports bra. You laughed a bit, pulling it over your head yourself and tossing it to the side. Ethan reached past you to snag his shirt, pulling it over your head. Once your face cleared the collar he kissed you softly, smiling as you tilted up to meet him. 
His fingers tucked into your sweatpants, guiding them off your hips until they fell down in a puddle at your feet. You stepped out of them quickly.
“Much better,” he smiled, hands going to your hips as you jumped up onto him. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands moved around to your ass, holding you up. You kissed him again, running your fingers through his short hair. 
“Cuddles?” You poised again.
“I could stay here all day,” he grinned, kissing you again. 
“Suit yourself,” you smiled. It wasn’t hard for you to just hang there. 
“Alright fine, I’m cold. Dismount.” 
You smiled at the code word, climbing down off of him and crawling into bed, opening your arms. 
Ethan was right behind you, crawling under the covers and wrapping you up in his arms. 
“I can’t wait for your semester to be over so we can do this all day long,” he mumbled, breath warm on his skin.
“Hmmm, maybe I’ll make you teach me how to edit so I can be double smart,” you grinned.
“Oh shut up.” You could hear the eye roll in his voice, but he just pulled you closer, so tight you could barely breathe. 
“I love you, lil genius,” Ethan said into your hair, loosening up a bit and settling into a comfortable position. 
“Love you more, big genius.”
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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years
Text
Fic Friday: Helping Hand
(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)
This story feels like fan content-ception to me, as it spawned from some NSFW art I made featuring Izaya, which was made from doodles to start with. Still scheming, but a lot more simple than my other fics with Izaya. Leaving this one a little open-ended in case I came back to it for Izaya returning the favor as he suggested. Not currently decided for sure though. I recently got my first request for Izaya and am brewing that, though it could be some time before I can get something down. It should be pretty fun though and spicier than this. (Note: Apologies for no cut - I am not sure how I add a cut with the new editor :/) Summary Invited over to Izaya’s apartment, Reader arrives too early and interrupts the informant’s alone time. And unfortunately (or fortunately), Izaya has no qualms about asking for a little help. Tags/Warnings Blowjobs, Come Swallowing, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut
Helping Hand (F! Reader/Izaya Orihara)
Arriving at the non-descript door in the hall of the impressive-looking apartment building, you hesitated. A few quick glances confirmed the numbers by the door matched up with the information listed in your phone’s address book. A few times before you had been to the apartment, but you hadn’t memorized everything about the address. All things considered, it was surprising you weren’t late this time, as you had been each time in the past. Maybe you were improving a little.
You raised a fist and drummed it against the door, starting light and polite. Nothing. You rapped harder. Surely that was loud enough to be heard? Your assumption was disproved when all that met you was silence, leaving you alone still in the hallway. You frowned in frustration and impatience. You knocked a third time, waiting a minute, wondering if he was preoccupied or just enjoying making you wait. When all remained quiet again, your frown deepened.
You looked back down at your phone, silently navigating to the texting feature and typing you a message irritably.
(X:XX PM): I’m here. I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear it.
You didn’t need to wait more than fifteen seconds before your phone buzzed in reply. Two words met your gaze, followed after a moment by a second slightly longer message.
Izaya (X:XX PM): You’re early.
Izaya (X:XX PM): I’m a little busy right now.
You paused, your scowl becoming confusion, and you scrolled back up through the conversation. The log confirmed the time you had been told and the one in the corner of your phone matched. ‘ Early? Right. Don’t tell me Izaya of all people forgot.’
(X:XX PM): I checked and either I’m on time or you screwed up and sent me the wrong time.
Arguing with him wouldn’t do you any good one way or another; Izaya wasn’t one to genuinely apologize for any inconveniences he caused others. But correcting him made you feel a little better and somewhat less cross at least.
Izaya (X:XX PM): Oh, did I?
Izaya (X:XX PM): Well, if you don’t like waiting, you can just come in. Door’s unlocked.
Your face twisted again, now into a skeptical surprise. Izaya just left his door unlocked? Izaya Orihara, the man who had probably as many enemies as he had clients, decided it was smart to let whoever wanted to waltz right in. Yeah, that made sense. You wondered if he enjoyed the excitement of the potential danger.
(X:XX PM): Hardly seems like a good idea for YOU to leave your door unlocked, but whatever.
With a dismissive shrug, you tucked your phone into your pocket and reached for the knob. Pushing it open, you stepped inside quickly and closed it gently behind you. You took a step away before pausing, turning back and locking the door as an afterthought. Izaya could endanger himself all he wanted, but you would rather there be at least some kind of barrier between whatever messy trouble came looking for him.
Walking past the foyer, you expected to see him perched on his chair, clacking noisily away at his keyboard, fixed on the screens of his computers and cellphones or something of the sort. The chair was empty though, turned away from the screens. You scanned the area for the ever-frustrating information broker. Quickly, you noticed him tucked away in the corner of the dark-colored leather section, his back facing you. His head rested against the couch, one long arm lying curled over its back. For someone supposedly busy, Izaya looked pretty relaxed from where you were standing.
“You don’t look real busy to me,” you accused once you spotted him.
Izaya shifted, tilting his head further back to glance over his outstretched arm at you. “Oh, I am, I assure you.” He looked and sounded as collected as ever, as if nothing could or should trouble him. Except… was it just you, or did his face seem a bit red? “But I’ll be just a few minutes. Feel free to wait for me there,” Izaya suggested. There was something off as well about the quality of his voice you couldn’t place.
“Uh huh,” you said, unsure if you felt unsettled or just irritated still. Maybe a little of both.
He had told you to wait, yet your curiosity nagged at you viciously, demanding to see what exactly preoccupied him. Or maybe it was indignation needing to see what was so pressing he couldn’t remember the time he had told you. You took a few steps, intending to round the recessed floor area and the sectional to see what he was doing.
“You really should wait over there,” he warned you casually, the strange tone of his voice sounding stronger, but still indecipherable.
You scoffed, ignoring the warning and carrying on. When you swept around the corner of the area though, what you saw stopped you dead in your tracks, poised on the lip of the steps down. At first the strangled squeak that burst from your mouth didn’t quite register, nor did the immediate hot flush that fell across your face.
Izaya looked very comfortable where he sat, leaning back into the plush cushions. From the top-down, at first he looked perfectly normal, if a little flushed, one of his usual ‘v’-neck shirts tantalizing displaying a bit of his delicate-looking collarbones. Though the picture grew more suspect the further you went. The hem of his shirt was lifted, askew and higher on one side than the other, exposing his lean torso. That wasn’t nearly so scandalous though, as even further down.
He sat nude from the waist down, his pants and belt pooled around his ankles. His cock stood prominently between his splayed legs, a flushed tone to match the rosy tint in cheeks and leaking pre-cum. As if walking on Izaya with his pants literally down wasn’t mortifying enough, one hand was wrapped leisurely around his cock. Obviously he had been in the process of jerking off, and still was, having not bothered to stop even once you had caught him in the act.
What you were looking at hit you all at once, and a stream of half-finished sentences exploded out. “I’I’m sorry, I-- But what are you--? Why would let me come in if that’s what you’re busy doing?! You began in an apologetic voice, though your apology quickly turned to indignation at the fact Izaya’d had plenty of time to put himself away before you came in. Before he invited you, for example, and then before he greeted you.
“Well, I did warn you.” Izaya’s speech held no hint of apology. The shameless, steady stroke of his hand up and down confirmed he was not bothered whatsoever. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to show up early and be nosy, darling.”
At last you recognized the tone in his voice you hadn’t been able to place before. Something husky and thick, a silky accent to his already smooth voice. You felt stupid not being able to put two-and-two together from his voice and face.
“I’m not early! I-it’s not my fault you told me the wrong time,” you tried to hide the shakiness in your voice with anger, though you knew Izaya was a master at seeing through masks.
You wanted to turn, to look away, but you found yours glued to the sight of him, stunned like a deer in headlights. Maybe it was his audacity that was truly so stunning. I’m just gonna go and come back later,” you ground out through teeth after you tore your eyes away from the enticingly lewd scene.
“Oh? But like I said, I’ll only be a little bit.” You nearly choked again from Izaya’s boldness. He really expected you to just wait around while he jacked off like it was nothing? For someone who claimed to love humans and all their emotions and behaviors so much, you really wondered how much he really understood them sometimes. “You know, if you wanted to lend a hand, it might be even sooner.”
You made another embarrassing noise, your eyes snapping back around and fixing on his own. The expression in his sharp brown eyes told you he wasn’t just you or making some inappropriate joke, not completely. Izaya was dead serious suggesting you ‘lend him a hand’ with his current ‘business’. You should have been mad. You should have been uncomfortable. You should have walked away then. But something else was creeping up and up, suppressing what you should have done, leaving behind the sense that you didn’t quite hate the idea.
You weren’t ready to give in completely, though, not yet. “Was that your plan when you invited me over?” You tried to deflect once more, but your angry speech was half-hearted.
He gave a small shrug, still languorously pumping his hand up and down, smearing a new bead of pre-cum along the head of his dick. You licked your lips, and you weren’t sure whether it was from nerves or hunger. “Who knows? Maybe, maybe not.” Of course Izaya would give you a nonsense answered that told you nothing.
“Can you just put your pants on, please?” You tried weakly, a last ditch effort to squish down the hot feeling suffusing you and to call his bluff. But Izaya wouldn’t be moved.
“Weren’t you leaving though?” He questioned calmly. “So why should I? Then I can’t take care of this.” You groaned mentally at his ‘logic’ that amounted to his typical games. “So, what’s stopping you?”
You didn’t speak, listening only to the slick sound of Izaya stroking himself, as if trying to come up with an appropriate excuse. But there was none. You were still there because you wanted to be. You sputtered some nonsense at first, before sighing in defeat.
“I...I just… fine,” you mumbled, unable to meet his cutting gaze when you agreed.
He didn’t seem bothered or surprised by your admission, and when you looked back up, he was smirking widely, as if he had expected you to crumble and play right into his hands. “Well, what are you waiting for then?”
You nearly scowled at the impatience of the question, but shook your head. You approached quickly, stopping once you stood in front of him. You licked your lips again and swallowed thickly, kneeling between his legs. Up close and personal with his cock, it you for real the favor you had submitted yourself to. It made your stomach twist in a way that was pleasantly hot, but with a nervous flutter. But even if he would probably let you, there was no back down now. You had dug your hole and you intended to stay in it.
Feeling Izaya’s eyes burning down onto you, you lifted a hand tentatively, more intimidated than you would have admitted. You nearly jumped when the hand he had been pleasuring himself with seized yours. Your face was on fire as he guided your hand over his shaft, helping you wrap it around the heated skin. He made a small sound in the back of his throat at the contact, his palm lingering over your hand. Gingerly, you shifted your hand up and down, mimicking him, the skin hot and velvety under your fingers.
“There, just like that,” Izaya cooed, his hips rocking up into your touch. His hand left yours to bury itself in the cushion beside him.
You chanced a subtle glance up, past his exposed torso and up his chest. His head lolled back against the sofa back, and his chest rose and fell deeply in more noticeable, pleasured breaths as you stroked. He seemed more than willing to sit back and fully indulge in your touch, apparently a far more exhilarating experience than his own.
“What a good girl,” he praised as your grip tightened you pumped his cock more surely, enjoying the noises that vibrated up his chest. They were low and smooth, containing all the richness of his speaking voice, yet none of the frustrating teasing or condescension. “Mmph, a little hard, don’t be shy,” he coaxed, giving a particularly eager buck of his hips, a new drop of pre-cum beading on the head of his dick.
You did as instructed, and the sound of his breathing deepened more, the small, pleasant sounds morphing into longer, bawdy groans. “How’s that?” you prompted, the confidence from watching him come slowly undone steadying your voice, the sheer arousal in it surprising you.
“Mm, good, keep going.”
You stuck to the steady rhythm you had set, your tongue wetting suddenly dry lips again as you alternated between watching Izaya’s blissful form above you and his throbbing cock in front of you. You moved your idle hand up, cradling his balls in your palm and rubbing gently, rewarded with even more erotic noises. You weren’t sure whether you were more turned on by the eroticism of the sounds themselves, or the fact you were hardly ever heard Izaya sound so unrestrained.
Your gaze stopped, lingering on his cock, and you decided if you were going to help out, you may as well have a little more fun, as well as satisfy the hunger building in you. You bent forward, your breath fanning over the head hotly, and you barely caught a shiver roll through Izaya. You leaned closer, opening your mouth and licking coyly at the flushed head, the bitter taste of pre-cum flooding your senses.
“ Oh .” The word was surprised, excited almost, made even more so by the breathiness that carried it. “I didn’t even have to ask you to do that.” Your faced burned with embarrassment you fought to ignore, letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue along the underside. “More eager than you let on, I see. But I’m not complaining.”
Izaya relaxed more limply against the cushions, save for the rhythmic roll of his hips meeting the hot, wet touch of your mouth. You sank down on his cock more, slowly, trying to account for the motion of his hips to not choke yourself on his length. Fortunately, though it was steady, his pace was languid, letting you adjust easily. You took as much as you could without inciting your gag reflex, shifting between dancing your tongue along his skin or pressing flat against the underside or teasing the head where it connected to his shaft.
Above you, Izaya’s dulcet chorus of groans and mumbled words escalated and his fingers met the top of your head. They curled loosely, massaging methodically, neither forcing you down or adjust to a new pace.
“Hmm, and they say I’ve got a talented tongue,” Izaya hummed huskily and you couldn’t stifle a low moan in answer, the sound shooting through Izaya and making his hips stutter. “Sure seems like you know to use yours though,” he praised again, and you could make out the teasing tone you were so used to among his lusty, strained voice.
Izaya fell silent for a time, or at least he fell wordless, panting and groaning his pleasure, the sounds accentuated by the wet noises you made while you sucked him off. But Izaya’s was a mouth that couldn’t stand staying silent for long. “You can take a little more, can’t you?” He asked insistently, his fingers tightening their loose hold. He thrust his hips more roughly into your mouth as you sank down again, as if punctuating his question.
Tears stung at your eyes for an instant as the tip of his dick touched your throat and you inhaled deeply to relax it. You took in even more of his cock, noticing the roll of his hips slow, as if accommodating you to take his length more easily. When you pulled back, his hand only let you go so far, effectively keeping you from pulling away. You indulged him, satisfied with the even more ragged breaths replacing his words and more of the salty fluid leaking from him.
Your jaw was beginning to ache, but you ached elsewhere as well, and it urged you to continue. With your mouth wrapped around him so intimately, you could tell Izaya was getting very close to cumming, from the increasing cant of his hips to the harsh pitch of his breath to the way his cock twitched, even more hard.
“Mm, that’s it. Almost there.” Izaya confirmed your suspicions, the lustiness of his tone adding to the urgency. “If you don’t want a mouthful, you might want to stop,” he warned you, surprisingly considerate in the moment.
Your eyes flickered up, but you didn’t stop, trying to hum your acknowledgement around a mouthful of his dick, working him even more eagerly.
“Oh, shit, you’re more obscene than I thought. If that’s how you want it,” His excitement pierced his arousal again, as if he hadn’t expected you to be so wrapped up in servicing him.
Thrusting into your mouth more desperately, his hips finally stuttered as he finished, filling your mouth with hot ropes of thick that you swallowed as soon as the bitter taste swept over your tongue. Several especially long, feral moans drifted from Izaya’s lips as you drank him down, until at last he was spent and there was nothing left for you to swallow. You drew away, wiping a smear of drool and some stray cum from your mouth with the back of your hand and resting back on your knees.
“There, that’s taken care of,” you said, your attempt to sound level and collected ruined by your own arousal making your voice overly breathy. “Now did you actually have a reason for inviting me over?”
Izaya laughed breathlessly, as if amused by your change of pace, lying boneless against the sectional. “Of course, my dear,” he answered when his laughter died, tipping his head forward to look at you. “I wouldn’t lie to your like that. Though, if you’d like, I can return the favor. It sounds like you need it.”
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