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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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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.”

#izaya orihara #durarara!!#writing #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #reader-insert #fic friday #nsft #n/s/f/w/#drrr!!

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