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crashbandicunttt · 3 years

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So, I wrote this Borra smut fanfiction upon no one’s behest. lmao. I just love Bolin so much and thought if the writers paired him canonically with Korra, I imagine their energy would be just chaotic in a good way. Plus, that Borra date montage just really has me in a chokehold, especially the way Bolin looks at Korra. let me die.

FIRST

A Bolin x Korra smut fanfiction.

E rating.

Set in a mix of the LoK universe and the modern world. There’s enough context in the story though, I think. You don’t need that much context though, this story is just mostly horny.

“So.” Bolin said, half chuckling.

“So.” Korra responded in a small voice.

They stayed that way for a little while longer, under the cover together but never touching.

And to think everything seemed to start off relatively easy.

—

The agreement was simple and straightforward, a pact made when Korra was thirteen and Bolin was fourteen: if neither of them gets laid by the time they are eighteen, then they would rather lose their virginities to each other. At the time Bolin admitted it was not his brightest moment. After all, it was at age ten that Bolin first discovered Korra was not only the girl he wanted to hang out with all day during the weekends, but that he wanted to be beside her all the time. He realized he wanted to be with her long before the pact was made.

If he remembered correctly, the pact was made clumsily and in response to an encounter they should have probably not experienced.

It was a fateful winter night when the pact was formed. Bolin’s large extended family was home for the holidays, and being that their family was large, every holiday saw their house filled to the brim with people. Bolin beamed with joy, completely in his element interacting with each and every member of his family. Unlike Mako, Bolin was less sullen and enjoyed the company of many as much as he enjoyed the company of his own brother.

Or Korra, it seemed, who he finally spotted standing with her back flush against the wall closest to the basement door, holding a cup of water in her hand that she was so intently watching. Bolin excused himself to stroll closer to her, ignoring the way his heart pounded so much louder whenever he was around her.

There was no reason she had to know.

Holding his cup in his own hand, he waited for her to look up at him and the way she instantly smiled just made him feel all sorts of warm and… funny inside. Only when he got older would he realize what that was, but at the time, he labelled that feeling ‘funny,’ an emotion that made him grin at her.

She grinned back. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he responded, clinking his cup against hers, to which she obliged happily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a lot of people. And I only really know you. And Mako. And your grandmother.”

That she did, and no matter how many times Bolin introduced her, she seemed to forget them. Bolin supposed that was just the thing about big families. Now, enough movies told him that whisking a girl away to somewhere nice in the middle of a party was the way to go. Only there were no ‘nice’ places in their household, and the cold winter night outside limited their options severely. So Bolin turned to the next best thing: the basement.

It made sense that Korra would stand in the proximity of the room they hung out in the most. Every Friday like clockwork since they were old enough to understand how to operate the DVD player, Bolin and Korra would sit on the couch in the basement and watch a movie together. Sometimes Mako would join them, but as he grew older, he remained in his room for longer periods and joined Friday basement movie nights only sparingly.

This time, Mako was bustling about helping their grandmother tend to the guests. Bolin and Korra snuck away to the basement with ease, and when Korra flopped down onto the sofa, she seemed to sigh in relief for the first time all night. Bolin hid a careful smile as he turned to the DVD player. A disk case of their favourite movie sat on top of the DVD player. Bolin figured if there was something that could help Korra’s nervous energy abate, it would be watching something familiar.

Only, when he sat down and pressed the remote so the disk would be fed into the slot, something completely different materialized on the screen. It was… not their favourite movie, that was for sure. In fact, it didn’t even seem very appropriate at all. Bolin and Korra looked at each other but neither made a move to pop open the DVD player, go back upstairs, and forget this ever happened. Perhaps it was pubescent curiosity that made them stay seated where they were, staring intently at the unfolding events on screen until it finished. Both of them had questions in mind that they did not have the courage to ask each other just yet. Not now that Bolin’s shirt felt too tight and his skin too hot, not now that Korra’s hair seemed to lay much too flat on her forehead, sticking down due to the light sheen of sweat.

“Uhm,” Bolin awkwardly broke the heavy silence first. “So, that was a different, uhm, movie.”

“That was… Bo, I don’t think that was a movie.”

“Y-yes it is,” Bolin responded with nervous laughter, tugging at his collar. “Didn’t you see the actors?”

Korra’s look was puzzled, but she didn’t say anything for a long time after that, and neither did Bolin. The party upstairs continued merrily, and soon, thankfully, Bolin’s body temperature dropped and his shirt no longer felt three sizes too small.

Well, until Korra decided to attack the awkwardness by saying: “I’m pretty sure that was sex.”

Bolin couldn’t help but agree. He knew Korra well enough to sense that this specific tone of her voice brokered no argument. Which meant they were venturing into uncharted territory and he had to be careful not to show any signs that, well, he would rather not have this conversation with her because, well, it was simply too awkward to talk about something so intimate in such a casual manner with the person he liked so much.

He gulped. “Yes. I think so, yes.”

Korra looked thoughtful, her gaze back in her cup of water again. “What do you think it feels like?”

“Wh—what?”

“Sex,” she asked, unyielding blue eyes now trained at him. Too tight. Tomorrow, he will burn this shirt.

“I don’t know.”

“Should it feel bad?” Korra tilted her head.

Something told Bolin it shouldn’t, but he had the same question in his head while they were watching the video. “I don’t think so,” he said. Of this, at least, he felt sure. He and Mako may not have any parents anymore but he was vaguely aware two people in love also engaged in… well, sex, and that their love meant sex was supposed to feel good. With a full blown blush, he told Korra as much, and she took his information like it was nothing but plain fact rather than fuel to an increasingly uncomfortable conversation. For Bolin, of course, who had never had this conversation with a girl before. With some of his guy friends at school, sure, but never with a girl, much less Korra.

He drank from his cup as he watched Korra think from the corner of his eyes. Finally, she blinked up at him.

“You think that will hurt me?” She asked. Bolin choked on his water. Korra was quick to pat his back, which only made it worse.

“I— uhm,” he cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”

“You think it will hurt you?” She followed up, unfazed by his discomfort. Spirits, this is the first time he actually regretted going to the basement. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He just wanted Korra to feel a little less overwhelmed so that when she goes back up with him to the party, it’ll be easier for her to interact with everyone else.

“I— I hope not.” He finally croaked out, thumping his chest lightly with his balled fist, willing the discomfort in his throat to melt away. It didn’t, especially not when Korra’s resolute eyes trained on him. This time, he knew a decision was going to follow it and he didn’t exactly know if it would be a good one. He hoped it would be good because Korra sticks to things she wants to do with a fiery passion.

Korra crossed her legs on the couch and set her cup down on the floor.

“You said that sex was something that two people who loved each other did.” She explained, almost to herself. “But in the video, they didn’t seem to be happy doing it.”

“Yeah?” Bolin said, setting his own cup down and rubbing his throat from all the coughing.

“Does that mean she didn’t love him?”

This conversation was so weird. Bolin had such a vague idea of sex that every question Korra threw at him felt like a trap. Granted, he was one year older than Korra and thus felt like he knew about this whole thing more than her, but he felt like it was still not his place to talk about these things with her. After all, she had her parents.. But the cat was already out of the bag and there didn’t seem to be a way he was going to get Korra to think about anything else until this was finished.

“I don’t know many things about that but… I guess maybe, they’re not doing it for love.”

“Why not?”

“I think because maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter if they love each other.” This was horrible. If only it weren’t so cold outside then maybe he could bend himself a little rock house and promptly die in it.

“So they’re just having sex?”

Bolin shrugged, trying to be dismissive about it. “I think so.”

“Well,” Korra said after a while. “I thought of something.”

“Okay?”

“Obviously, when I grow up, I’ll be doing that.”

Bolin winced, feeling entirely responsible for the blunder. She was only a year younger than him and yet he already felt like he’d violated her, even though they didn’t really expect porn to be tonight’s movie.

“And,” Korra started again, a small smile gracing her lips for the first time since this whole thing started. “Since I already love you, maybe you can be the first person I do that with!”

Since I already love you.

He knew she just meant the friendly type of love, he knew this. He did. But it felt so nice, so warm in his heart when she said that, her sincerity clear in her eyes. It was just the other half of her statement that made him blink in disbelief.

“You want to… what? With— with me?” He asked while placing a hand on his chest. “M—me?”

“Yeah.” Her smile was blinding, like she hadn’t just said something that started to fry Bolin’s pubescent brain in a hot oil bath of dangerous teenage boy curiosity.

“Well,” he grappled for an excuse and found one just as quickly. “We can’t, though, because we’re not old enough.”

Korra considered this, eventually nodding. “Eighteen, then.”

Bolin gulped. “Eighteen? What do you mean?” Lie, he berated himself. He knew exactly what that meant. And from the looks of it, so did she.

“We wait until we’re eighteen and then we do it. If we don’t find anyone else to do it with by then.”

And this was when his famous mistake began: he’d agreed.

He was so sure she’d forget, so sure she’d eventually turn 19 and only think about the time they popped in a porno into the DVD player by accident as something to laugh about as she went on with her life. Thinking this, Bolin had felt it safe to agree with her request. And so, the pact was made.

Bolin and Korra would lose their virginities to each other if they don’t find any other partner by the time they reach 18.

—

And like almost every promise she made, she made good on this one, too, showing up at his dorm room door a week after her birthday, after she’d moved into the same school he did for college.

Fuck, he thought as he let her enter his dorm room. His roommate was out for the night for his weekly DnD habit.

He sighed. Just his luck, then.

As he closed the door, Korra bounded up to him in a great hug, and Bolin caught her, encircling his thick arms around her. When she pulled away, she punched his arm.

“Ow, Korra!” He admonished, rubbing the spot. “When did you get such a mean right hook?”

“Training to be the Avatar, of course! I also came because I promised I would beat you in an arm-wrestling match one day, didn’t I? Prepare to be defeated!” She exclaimed, before Bolin moved to hush her on account of the other sleeping students on the floor. Korra apologized in an instant, smiling sheepishly at her antics.

There was that funny feeling in the pit of Bolin’s stomach again. And it just intensified when she settled on his single bed, deftly taking off her boots and kicking it to the side. She spotted a folding table off to the side, leaning beside the window. She pulled it close, placing it in front of Bolin’s bed before pointing to a spare chair near the door that was piled high with laundry.

“Come on, pull that seat over here and fight me like a man!” She said, sending Bolin laughing.

“You’re on, lady! I’ll show you what a man looks like!” He retorted, speaking loud enough for effect but quiet enough so as not to disturb everyone else on the floor.

This was good. Good. She came here for a different promise. He might just be able to get out of this. With a flourish, he sat down on his seat and flexed his arm, placing his elbow on the table in preparation for their battle. Realizing he had been topless all this time, he felt a little subconscious, looking at Korra and then scooching his seat just a little close to his bed so he could reach for his tank.

Korra waved her hand dismissively. “Hey, Bo, relax, it’s just me.”

“Oh, okay,” he retreated to his seat, positioning his arm on the table. “Let’s go, little lady,” he said, grinning when she fit her hand easily into his own. Bolin reminded himself that this was an arm-wrestling rematch and willed himself not to dwell on the thought that her hand in his just felt so… perfect. So, so perfect.

Soon, she was exerting effort into her hand, her teeth gritted as she pushed against Bolin’s grip.

“Not to brag but I was born to have a tighter grip, Korra. It’s an earthbender thing.”

Korra scoffed. “No it’s not, and that’s definitely a brag. Don’t forget I’m the Avatar.”

Bolin laughed, and it felt just like old times. “You still weren’t born an earthbender, unfortunately. But fortunately, our established friendship means you can request for me to go easy on you. See that? I used unfortunately and fortunately together. Neat, huh?”

“Ha! No way, Bo! I didn’t practice all that time for nothing,” she responded, and Bolin was surprised to find his hand was actually giving.

“Okay, whoa,” he said, unable to help it. “Okay, that’s impressive. But not more than this!”

With the strength of the right half of his body, he pressed tighter against her hand, determined to give her the fight she deserved. A light sheen of sweat beaded on her brow and it was more alarmingly… attractive than it needed to be. Korra’s hand started to give this time, but with a tight groan, she was able to summon up enough strength to slam Bolin’s hand in defeat.

“Ah, what! No fair! Did you go into the Avatar State just then? That’s illegal, you know.” Bolin protested, comically crossing his arms. Korra’s eyes flitted to his bunched biceps just then, and unbidden, Bolin arched a curious brow. Interesting.

“No, I didn’t,” Korra coughed into her hand before momentarily turning her head to look around the room.

He’ll let that slide. For now. “I could have sworn I saw some glowing! Explain yourself!” He protested, proceeding as normal.

“I have nothing to explain!” She replied, standing up abruptly. They stared at each other, squinting for only a split second and for a split second, Bolin thought she was going to storm out out of embarrassment. Luckily, they’d just ended up laughing together. Korra closed the distance between them to hug him again, and Bolin was all too happy to return her tight embrace.

“It’s so nice to see you, Bo. I really missed you!”

“No, I missed you!” Bolin said, pouting at her. She poked at his cheek intending to kiss it when just at that moment, Bolin turned his head.

The kiss landed on his lip.

A million thoughts rushed through Bolin’s brain in that moment, the most prominent being ‘put as much distance between you and Korra,’ and ‘never let her go.’ It didn’t help that these two thoughts fought each other in his head, rendering him immobile after the soft smack of her lips. It was a tiny thing, he barely tasted her, but his body singed for more. And it did this so because it also knew what day it was, how old they both were.

It knew of the pact.

Bolin swallowed; Korra caught it. Eventually, they broke apart, both feeling flustered. Bolin resolved to find solace away from his room, which now felt entirely stuffy.

“I— uh, need to get something, uh, outside. You can, uh, stay here!” Bolin swung the door open hastily, but stopped when Korra said, “Wait.”

Don’t fight it, you’ve always loved her, his heart screamed at him. But his brain told him this wasn’t what he had in mind. Korra deserved to be worshipped in, maybe, silken sheets or something, not in his cramped dorm room.

“Bolin, please look at me.” She pleaded, and when Bolin turned back to look at her, he wished he wasn’t wearing gray sweats to bed tonight. He could hide nothing in the thing.

Desperate for a distraction, Bolin thought about many other things. All the things, if it meant he could calm down his wildly beating heart in front of her. He stood stock still, shoulders tensed and hunched inward.

“You know why I came here, don’t you?” She asked, stepping slowly towards him and just when Bolin thought she was too close, she reached behind him to close the door. The lamp was usually enough light for him, but with her here, it seemed to shrink back at her brilliance.

Bolin closed his eyes, worried that if he doesn’t, he might just lose himself staring into her eyes. So close. What was only seconds felt like ages before Bolin felt Korra’s careful breath against his cheek. So close. He resisted the urge to bite his lip.

With a shaky smile, he quipped, “H— hi, Korra. It feels so nice to be close friends with you.” How he could still manage a joke right now is beyond him, especially when earlier they had already accidentally kissed and even that nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Korra’s hushed laughter at the joke made his shoulders relax just a little, before her next words made him tense up anew.

“Can I kiss you?”

Bolin’s been hit by a heavy rock to the chest before, but all his training built up his resistance over time. But this… this was a hit to his heart. His breath hitched, unbidden, and he braved one eye open to look at… exactly how close she was. Much too close.

“Korra, I—“

“Can I at least touch you?”

“Korra—“

She reached tentative fingers into his jet black hair, and the small shiver that shot down his spine made his mouth run dry. That was just a hair-touch! His body is betraying him! She’ll definitely see the effect she has on him if she just looked down. Please don’t look down. Please don’t look down.

“Is this okay?”

“Y-yes,” His mind screamed. But then Korra stopped touching his hair.

“Yeah?” She asked.

Bolin brought up a hand tentatively just to facepalm. “I— I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did.”

“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled.

“You are,” she agreed.

Bolin raised a brow at her. “Hey!”

Korra chuckled, which served to take away some more of the tight tension in his body. He was still on guard, though, making small steps backward to put some distance between them. But Korra easily caught on to what he was doing. She inhaled deeply and steeled her face into an unreadable expression. Oh no, no.

“If you didn’t want me to be here then maybe you should have just told me! God, I feel like an idiot!” She groaned, shoving past him to get to the door. No, no, Bolin thought. He has to fix this.

“Korra wait—!” He exclaimed, wrapping his fingers around her wrist just before she reached the doorknob.

“What?” She snapped, and when she whirled her head towards him, he saw her eyes were watering. Oh, Korra.

“I— can we just talk about it first? Yeah?”

“What’s there to talk about?! When you obviously don’t want me here!”

“Korra, listen— just listen to me.” He pleaded, ignoring his brain’s call to be careful when touching her. That was always a slippery slope. Especially now when they’re in a room together, about to discuss a five-year-old pact Korra never forgot about. “Come here.” He said, loosening his grip on her wrist and holding her hand. He tugged her closer to his bed and settled on the floor in front of her when she finally sat down on his covers.

Bolin took a deep breath. “First of all, I missed you, too, in case that part wasn’t clear. What with all the… you know, this going on. Heh. And second of all, well, I didn’t really…”

Oh man. This was so hard. Korra stared at him, waiting for his answer.

Bolin cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head and shifting his gaze away. “I didn’t really want our first time to be just here. In my dorm room. You deserve something special, you know! It’s just all a surprise, is all.”

A beat. “So you do want to have sex with me?”

Oh.

Well. He walked into that one.

Bolin swallowed and his answer came in a squeak. “Y—yes.”

Korra bit her lip and it took everything in Bolin’s body not to physically react to that. He remembered the accidental smack from earlier, how soft her lips were.

“I don’t really care where we are.” She finally said, settling on the floor, too, in the space between him and the bed. “As long as I’m with you.”

Fuck. “T—thank you, Korra. I appreciate that.”

“So… do you want to do it?” She pressed, moving an inch closer on her hands and knees. This time it was his turn to bite his lip.

He turned the offer around in his head, willing his heart and… nether regions to calm down. If he did this, there was no going back. Something would change and it will never be the same between them. What he couldn’t figure out was whether or not that was a bad thing.

He finally looked at her, really looked at her. “I’m not going to wiggle out of this one, aren’t I?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Sighing, he replied. “Alright, then, oh Miss Avatar, I am your willing participant. But please, do come back to bed. It’s much more comfy there.”

Korra smiled a bright smile, happily settling on his bed. He followed after her, all too aware of her proximity now. She didn’t seem to be as nervous as he was, which made sense to him because even though he knew she didn’t expect him to, he had already put himself under the pressure of making this feel good for her.

“Alright so what now?” She enquired, bright blue eyes glinting with mischief and… something else. Bolin tried to think. One of them had to be level-headed around here, which was rapidly becoming hard to do when his body was already heating up at the prospect of the pact.

He stretched his legs out and patted his lap. “Sit on me.” He said, and the resulting flush on Korra’s face made him swallow. Doing great so far, Bolin, doing great.

She followed his command, sitting just a hair’s breadth away from where he was already at half-mast. Bolin tentatively put his hands on either side of her thighs, silent watchful stare asking for her permission. She placed two hands on his shoulder before nodding, prompting Bolin to slide her closer and fit her against his chest so she was sitting directly on top of his groin. His next exhales became hotter, as he pressed his forehead against her chin. She too was affected by his closeness, her thighs clenching ever so slightly, almost imperceptible.

“Korra, if we do this, I want you to tell me exactly when I’m making you feel uncomfortable, okay? If you tell me to stop, I will, immediately.” He assured, absently drawing circles on her thighs. She nodded, adjusting herself on his lap. He hissed when she did and she looked at him in a panic.

“Oh, no. Are you okay?”

With his voice strained, he replied, “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just I’m very hard right now.”

They both fell silent enough that they could hear each other breathe. Slowly, tentatively, Bolin saw Korra move her hips again, grinding down his erection. His grip on her thigh tightened as he groaned. “Korra.”

“Yes?” But she kept going, slowly and then with more confidence, causing Bolin’s breath to escape him in hot bursts against her neck.

“Korra— s—slow down,” he pleaded in jagged breaths. He wanted this so bad but it was moving too fast. He placed his hand on her hips so he could manually stop her and Korra gave a whimper when he did. The sound made his cock twitch. He took a deep breath to steady himself before looking up at her face. She was flushed, no doubt the same way he was. He wanted this to last a bit longer, a bit more. If this was going to be just the fulfillment of a pact and nothing else then he was going to draw it out and worship her and then burn this memory in his mind if this was the first and last time he was going to do this.

“Okay, just an update,” he said, breathing labored. “So, I’m hard as a rock under there and you’re… much more, uh, willing than I thought you were going to be. You know, for a virgin.”

Korra crossed her arms, shooting him a challenging glare. “For a virgin.”

“For a virg— yes. That’s not a bad thing, though! It’s just— I want to make this feel good for you. You deserve it.” If his voice quieted at that last sentence, he didn’t notice. He smoothed his hands up to the small of her back, pressing a thumb against the part of her waist he knew was ticklish. A bubble of laughter escaped her lips and before he knew it, she was kissing him.

Korra.

Korra was kissing him.

It was messy. She was inexperienced after all. But so was he. So it was a strange mix of wet, slippery, and teethy but neither of them cared. They just kept kissing until it felt right, and after Bolin found tilting his head a little was easier for both of them, he continued to kiss her fervently. Her arms snaked back around his neck as her chest pressed close to his. He groaned at the contact, pushing his tongue past the seam of her lips to taste her. She’d had something to drink before coming here, something fruity. Bolin smiled against her lips, savoring the taste and feel of her. Soon, she was grinding down his cock again, breaking apart for air and throwing her head back when Bolin latched onto her neck to mark her with fiery hot kisses.

“Bolin,” she sighed to the room and he pulled her closer at the sound.

Maybe he’d died. That’s right; he’d died and even in heaven was tormented by the delicious feeling of having Korra so close, tasting her, feeling her, loving her. That last part he didn’t think he’d say but it was there. He did love her. Even before all this began. He still loves her.

She shuddered when he started suckling on the skin of her neck, urged by a need to mark her in some way. To put something on her body that reminded them both what had transpired here. His wandering hands reached underneath her tight blue tank, the one she loved to wear so much ever since she grew those muscles he loved so much. He pressed his mouth on top of her tank where he knew underneath sat her breasts and she trembled some more, moaning in heated pants. Bolin smoothed his hands up her back, making sure to touch her feverish skin as he peeled the tank off of her and let go of her clothed breasts. He chucked it somewhere in the room, forgotten momentarily, to pay attention to her sarashi wraps next, the only barrier between him and his prize.

Korra was looked almost shy as he drank the sight of her, topless, and he knew this was because she had not been naked with anyone before. Bolin’s heart swelled at the thought of being the first to see her like this, his forever best friend and the now, as ever, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He kissed her cheek when the last of the wraps finally fell to the floor. “Good?” He asked, pressing the word against her chest where he planted a small kiss.

Korra swallowed and then muttered, “Yeah.”

“Tell me how you feel.” He asked almost automatically, and he was struck with how smooth and even his voice was. He’d thought he would be too anxious for this but when it came down to it, he was more sure about this than he ever was in any other thing in his life.

Korra’s fingers found the curls on the back of his head before she pressed her forehead against his for another passionate kiss. Breaking away momentarily, she whispered, “I’m feeling good.”

“Good,” he replied, grinning and slowly tracing her nipples, budded now and very eager. Her moan was long and drawn out when he finally took one of her nipples in his mouth, languidly caressing the other one with his hand.

“Oh, Bolin,” she hummed, bucking her hips against his straining cock. He gripped her hips at the contact, grinding her down himself. It was too much, much too much, but his brain still screamed for more. He nipped at her breast and sucked like it was his last meal. And when he licked from one breast to another with his tongue flat against her skin, Korra’s fingers tightened in his hair, hard enough to hurt — he didn’t care. On her chest he left marks, too, and she was only too happy to have them.

Bleary-eyed, he lifted his head up to meet her eyes again, one hand still showering attention to one of her breasts. “You look so beautiful.” He breathed out, kissing the corner of her lips. “And you feel so good.”

Korra looked at him in a daze, too, breath hot and fast against his face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

And despite their current steamy interaction, they couldn’t help but laugh. There was something so easy about this whole thing, something that went beyond sex and Bolin knew it was their friendship, but he also knew it was about love. His love. He could not say the same for Korra.

“Feeling good?” He finally said, burying his face in between her breasts and exhaling. If she moved unceremoniously now, he might just paint his sweatpants white on the spot. That small moment of laughter seemed much more effective in tipping him over the edge than the half hour they already spent on kissing and fondling.

You’ve got it bad, Bolin. So bad.

Korra nodded, reaching a hand down into her pants before Bolin could think.

Fuck, this was real. It’s getting very real now.

Wordlessly, he watched intently as she slid a hand into her waistband. He drew circles on her clothed thighs, his chest feeling tight and his cock feeling ready to burst. Fuck, no. No. Not now.

Before he could do anything about it, he spilled into his sweatpants the exact moment Korra moaned so deliciously as her fingers slipped inside her pussy. No, he’d ruined it. Out of shame, he bit his lip and thrust small upward strokes despite himself. He couldn’t control it. It was too much. Korra stopped when she noticed, slipping her finger out of her entrance and placing her hand back up on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I— Korra, I ruined this.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Bolin. We have all night.”

“A—all night?”

“Well, if—if you want to, of course—“

Bolin was sure he’d stopped breathing at some point. And if he thought he’d been dead before, he was sure now that he really had died. There was no way any of this is real, no way Korra wanted to spend all night with him having…

He gulped. “But I already came.”

“You will again.” She said with a smile, climbing off of him to position herself on the other side of the bed, her legs falling open before him.

You will again, a statement hotter than it had any right to be. A statement that seemed to linger far longer even as she started to take off her pants beside him, still frozen in place at what she said.

Wait. Pants?

“Korra, are you sure?” His cock twitched again even in its flaccid state, highly interested in the way she was currently wiggling her hips out of her pants. When it was finally off, he just sat there, watching her legs fall open to reveal all of her. The air felt too thick, like the only way to breath was to swallow. Korra watched his Adam's apple bob consistently before taking her fingers slowly down and tracing between her folds. There was gathering wetness there and Bolin could see it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. He thought maybe he never will. The room was quiet enough that he could hear the way the slick coated her folds. After what felt like forever, she finally plunged a finger back inside and released a groan that was identical to his own. His cock was back and ready for more. And yet he sat there, patiently, cock painfully straining, transfixed by the way she was moving her fingers. In, out. In, out.

But then she stopped. And then she covered her face before releasing a disjointed sigh.

With furrowed brows, he placed a reassuring hand on the side of her thigh, growing increasingly worried when her disappointed whimpers increased.

“Hey, hey, Korra, are you okay?” In a flash, he was on the floor, kneeling beside her on the bed and kissing her sweaty forehead just because he could. “Talk to me.”

“This always happens.”

“What always happens?”

“I start off and I think I’m wet enough when I’m actually not.” This time she turned around, pressing her chest against the bed and burying her face into his pillow. It took every ounce of willpower in Bolin not to touch her in that moment. A beautiful, naked woman was in his bed. And not just any beautiful, naked woman, no, Korra.

“What can I do to help? I’m very helpful, you know. Do you want some tea? Or like, maybe a hug?”

Frustrated, she groaned some more.

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to, uh, get in bed with you here but I’m going to give you a little bit of space for now, alright? I’m here for you, Korra, really,” and he meant it with all his heart. More than she will ever know. “And besides,” he began, gently encasing them in his blanket and kissing her hair. “I pretty much finished waaay too early for this whole thing so I don’t want to judge you for your uh, drought.” He grimaced when she groaned at the word choice. “I meant your situation! Your situation! Oh, that’s not any better is it?”

A pause and Korra was chuckling into his pillow. After what seemed like forever, she turned around, pulling the blanket up to her chest to cover herself. With one hand, she pulled her ponytail out and stared at the ceiling.

“So.” Bolin said, half chuckling.

“So.” Korra responded in a small voice.

They stayed that way for a little while longer, under the cover together but never touching. Bolin hummed a tune as the seconds dragged on before Korra spoke again.

“Do you think I’m naïve, Bo?” She asked.

“What? No, of course not.” He responded all too quickly, worried as to where this is coming from. “Why would you say that?”

She turned to him and he propped himself up with his hand against his cheek. If he noticed how Korra eyes shifted to the way his biceps moved, he didn’t mention it. She took a deep breath. “Because I came here thinking I can do this. Only for me to… lose interest just when it was getting good.”

He’d read about this before somewhere, and he was pretty sure it didn’t expressly mean losing interest. “I don’t think that’s it.” He said, tentatively reaching a hand to stroke her hair. She looked at him, blue eyes meeting green, before shifting just a little bit closer so he could do what he wanted. Even her hair was soft.

“Then what is it?” She asked.

“I think you just need more… stimulation.”

She groaned again. “What more stimulation do I need? I’d already touched myself before coming here and it still wasn’t enough.”

His hand stilled. “You touched yourself? Before coming here?”

“Uhm, yeah.” She replied, making herself smaller.

“What did you think about?”

“What?”

He propped himself up on both arms now, angling himself just right so she could see both his arms flex. Her curious little eye flutter made him feel… sexy.

“What did you think about, Korra? Before you came here and decided to rock my world.”

“Pfft, rock your world. That’s two rock puns now, Bo,” she snickered. Bolin pouted.

“Hey that was a legitimate thing you did, grinding down on me like that.”

“Okay,” she conceded. He wanted to kiss her again. So he did. And she kissed him back with ease, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Well, I thought about this moment, really. I’ve actually been thinking about it since I— what are you doing?” She asked, watching Bolin leave her side to kneel in front of his bed.

“I have an idea. Just keep talking. You were saying?”

“Okay, well, so uhm, I’ve just been thinking about this moment since I moved in a week ago.” Just then, Bolin lifted the blanket off her feet and slid her gently sideways so her feet were dangling over the edge. He watched her swallow, watched as she lifted herself up gingerly to look at him.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Listening to your story.” He simply replied, hiking the blanket up just above her knee before planting a kiss there. “You were saying?”

“But th—that’s it,” she sighed when he ran his finger slowly on the inside of her thighs.

“Oh?” He made sure to breathe out the word against her thigh, letting his breath fan out against her skin. He watched as she threw her head back.

“Bolin, what—“

“Do you trust me?” His voice was much lower now and because of his earlier release, this time around he felt more in control. It helped that Korra was so pliant in his hands, so responsive even though he hasn’t even put his lips on her just yet. Good idea, he thought. “Tell me, Korra. Tell me you trust me?”

Bolin never really thought of himself as particularly… skilled in the art of oozing sex just by his words. But he felt now, maybe he was wrong, as he watched Korra nod eagerly. “I trust you,” she said, voice tight.

“Good girl,” he replied, almost unaware of it. “I’m going to eat your pussy out, okay? Now, it’s gonna feel weird but I read somewhere this helps with the dryness.”

Korra blushed again. “Do you have to bring it up again?” She said, irritated. Playfully, he nudged his nose against the downy curls of her sex, blowing air onto her folds. She yelped, clenching the blanket in a white-knuckled grip.

“I’ll bring it up when I want to.” He pressed, remembering that lesson in female anatomy he taught himself. “Tell me what you like, okay? If you don’t, I will stop.”

Bolin continued to run his nose in her downy curls but when she remained wordlessly panting, he lifted his head. She blearily stared at his face, a questioning look flashing on her face. “What—“

“Tell me what you like,” he insisted, pulling her legs closer and hooking it over his broad shoulders. The smell of her sex this close felt exhilarating, like he wanted to drown in it. “Won’t you, Korra?” He asked, licking a small stripe up against her folds with the tip of his tongue. She arched her back nearly off the bed, mewling and babbling.

“Korra, answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll— I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you, Bo. Please.”

“Please what?”

“P-please that, uhm, lick me again.”

Bolin was more than happy to oblige, settling ever closer, only ever closer, so close that he can press the flat of his tongue against her folds completely, licking very slowly from her entrance up to the little bud of nerves on top. Korra cursed, the first time he’d heard her do so. It was sinful. The way she just said fuck followed by his own name. Motivated, he pressed his face closer, continuing to lick, tasting her at each pass. His cock twitched with renewed interest and he ignored it only until he couldn’t, palming himself.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her watching, mouth agape and blue eyes glazed. Fuck. He wanted to stay here. In between her legs. Just eating her out. Forever. Eventually, she became antsy, and Bolin saw in her face she wanted to say something.

“Something on your mind, Korra?”

“I— p— please do the licking with something e— else…”

“Like?” He asked, almost innocently, even as his lips and chin glistened with her wetness. As if in suggestion, he probed at her opening with a thick finger.

“That! That’s—“

“Oh, this?” He asked, running his finger down her wet folds and then pushing it inside agonizingly slowly. Korra’s hips bucked into his hand but he steadied his finger, stopping and kissing her inner thigh. “Tell me, Korra. Tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

He was gone. Gone. All coherent thought replaced by giving her whatever it was she wanted.

“I— please f—fuck me with your fingers…”

With a pleased rumble from within his throat, he gently pulled his fingers in and out and as he sucked his own finger and watched her breathe much more heavily at the sight, they knew that she was finally wet enough.

Bolin slipped another finger on the next pass, testing how open she already was, and she welcomed him easily, just as he dove back in to flick her clit with his tongue. Korra wailed, hands flying up to his hair and fucking up into his face. Underneath, his cock was straining so hard but he didn’t care, palming mindlessly. Korra was coming or he was going to stay here until she did. Or maybe even after that just to lap her up.

“You like that? On your clit?” He asked, giving a flat lick that covered the entire bundle.

“Fuck, ah, yes, Bolin. Oh, yes.” He focused his attention on the bundle, following the tantalizing tug of her fingers in his hair. He groaned each time she did, and the vibration of the sound seemed to increase the intensity of her moans.

“Right there,” she babbled over and over again as he hit a spot inside her with his fingers. “Oh, just stay there, ah.”

Inspired by another naughty idea, Bolin lifted his head from her opening, breathing harshly against her sex. “Listen to me.” He began, kissing her thighs to get her attention. “I’m going to eat you out until you scream, until you come. And then when I drink you up, I’ll fuck you with my cock. Is that okay?”

“B—but, I’ve already come by then,” she looked concerned, but he’d read about this before. Multiple orgasms.

“You will again.”

She recognized the quip as her own and couldn’t help but crack a smile. But she still looked worried. “A—are you su—sure? What if I don’t c—come?”

“You will. I’ll make sure of it.” Without another word, he moved his fingers in and out of her at a much faster rate than before, all while swirling his tongue around her clit. Korra panted so harshly at his attentions, as though she was drowning in desire. Bolin already was. He wanted to drown in her cunt forever. It was not long after that that her thighs clamped on either side of his head. He could die here for all he cared. It’ll be a lovely death. Though cramped, he moaned into her pussy, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside her that made her gasp and moan loudly. If he was concerned about his neighbours before, he wasn’t now. Let them hear.

It didn’t take long for Korra to reach climax, her whole body trembling violently at the force of it. Between her clenched thighs, Bolin caught every last drop on his tongue, giving her folds a final kiss before finally standing back up.

She was a vision. Not even in his wildest wet dreams did he imagine how beautiful and utterly ruined Korra looked like on his own bed right now. Her hair haloed around her face and her mouth open, her lips swollen from how much she was biting them. The quick rise and fall of her chest made her breasts look all the more lovely, and her lax and shaking legs made his head spin.

I made Korra come. I, Bolin, made her come.

“C—come here, p—please, Bolin.” She reached her hand out weakly, and in an instant, Bolin was on her.

“So,” he kissed her cheek, positioning himself on top of her and pressing his erection between her legs. “How’d that feel?”

“So good. I thought you were a virgin.”

“I am. Well, sort of.”

Korra raised a brow.

“Well, I am a virgin. I’ve never gone all the way. But I’ve eaten pussy before.” But never like this, never this delicious, never this good, he wanted to say. Never you. “This… this felt different.” He admitted, which was not a lie. He hid in the crook of her neck. “Your pussy? Heaven.”

Korra chuckled. “Liar.”

“It’s true!” He chuckled with her, kissing up to her ear. Not knowing she was sensitive there, he felt her hips buck up again. He chuckled darkly. “Excited, aren’t we?”

She tried to protest but he was already sucking and kissing at her neck.

“Bolin,” she moaned, long and deep.

“This is the part,” kiss, “where I fuck you again,” kiss, “with my cock this time,” kiss, “tell me to stop and I will,” kiss, “I’ll do anything for you.”

It hurt his heart how much he meant that last part. He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes searching. He did nothing else, waiting for her response. He didn’t even move, his arms having no problem holding him up. Korra stared at him for what felt like forever until he felt her wrapping her legs around his lower back. Bolin took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes to quell the irresistible urge to just thrust.

“Tell me,” he pleaded again. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Korra looked at him, panting softly against his lips. She kissed him. “Fuck me, Bolin.”

It was like a switch had been turned on in his brain, like her words wiped away every rational thought in his head so that all he could think about was going back into her wet heat. With hurried hands, he shucked his sweats off and pounced right back on top of her, loving how slick and open she was now to his stiff cock. Still, he pushed slowly, watching her face intently at each delicious inch that sank in. Satisfied, he made the final push to bottom out, the tight, wet heat around him nearly making him lose his mind. How would he ever exist after this? After experiencing Korra like this?

Bolin planted a wet kiss against her temple. “Is this okay?” He asked, pulling back slightly to slide back in gently. Korra’s legs around his lower back tightened and he grit his teeth so hard at the sensation.

“Yes. Yes,” she panted, bringing Bolin’s face closer and kissing him greedily. Slowly and then a little faster, Bolin pulled out and slid in until she was open enough to take all of him in each stroke. Each push inside made him see stars and it took everything in him not to blow his load right then and there. It was just too good.

“Korra,” he moaned against her lips, watching with half-lidded eyes as her breasts bounced with each thrust. “Fuck, Korra. You drive me insane.”

“Bolin,” she babbled his name over and over again. “Faster.”

“What was that?” He said through broken gasps.

“Faster!”

“What?”

“Faster! Please Bolin!” She clamped down on her bottom lip, staring intently into his eyes as he neared the delicious edge of his orgasm. He could feel she was close too, but he was determined for this to be about her. Only her.

“Come for me, Korra, please?” He muttered against her lips, capturing her in a bruising kiss. As the sinful sounds left her lips in staccato, Bolin continued on with his relentless pace, feeling her whole body shake as she neared her own orgasm.

“Yes, yes, yes, Bolin!” She all but shouted when she came, throwing her head back and arching her whole body underneath him. Shortly after he let go, too, seeing spots and hearing his own ragged rasps echo in his head. He bucked gently as he emptied in her, shivering when he was all spent. He collapsed on top of her, admiring the modest peak of one of her breasts, blissed out and too pleased to think about anything other than Korra. He kissed the side of her breast lazily, running a finger on her raised nipple. Korra flinched, feeling oversensitive.

When she didn’t say anything for a long time, Bolin grew worried. But when he lifted his head to look at her, her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Is there any chance we can do that again?”

Bolin’s breath caught in his throat again. How could he ever deny her? He couldn’t even wiggle out of this silly pact. Grinning, he kissed her and his heart sang at how eagerly she kissed him back.

When they broke apart, he said, “Could you at least bring me flowers next time? A man wants romance too, you know.”

Korra laughed. “Sure thing.”

If you want to read it over on AO3, here’s the link. :D

#legend of korra #borra fanfiction #bolin #korr #bolin x korra #fanfiction #bolin smut #smut #no one asked for this #but here you go #join me in this pretty much dead ship lmao #idc #i love them both

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lassieposting · 3 years

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skulduggery/alt!serpine for the getting together ask game?

I’m bored, so. Send me two (or more) characters for a headcanon on how I’d have them get together

OHOHOHOHO SEE THIS IS A GOOD ONE BC

ive already been thinking about this and im. Lowkey really glad im not the only one

See I always hated skug with any serpine, like I was a passionate anti from 2007 - about three months ago but. I enjoyed their dynamic in phase one and then i read like three of their interactions from sow and got converted or some shit apparently idfk, anyway u know i love an angsty ship

this got really long so tldr; enemies to vitriolic hate-sex buddies to lovers, painfully slow burn, but they'll both die claiming they still hate each other

It begins with China.

She orders him to kill Serpine, and he refuses. He's not even 100% sure why when he does. It's not like they're friends. He's killed people he liked a good deal more than Nefarian Serpine under orders.

But she says, "kill him" and he says, "no", and then things spiral so quickly that it's actually a few days before he even has time to think about her parting shot, flung at him as he walked out on her: "if you want to keep him, you'll be the one looking after him. He's your responsibility, not mine. And if he hurts someone, you -"

He'd shut the door on her at that point, but he knows what she was going to say. You look after him yourself, you train him yourself, and if he hurts someone, you kill him yourself. A wonderfully old-world way of looking at things. He's fairly sure he remembers getting the same speech from the housekeeper when he tried to bring home the ugliest feral tomcat he'd ever seen as a small boy.

(This will come back to bite him. He's not sure how or when, but it will. That's the way of things, whenever he turns his back on China Sorrows. Her last parting shot - a classic "you'll regret this" - ended up getting him killed.)

But then there's Mevolent, and cleaning up a city in the aftermath of its latest Traumatic Event, and putting a size 10 to the backsides of the City Guard, so his priorities get reshuffled somewhat, and it's almost a week later that he thinks to ask, "Heard from Serpine lately? He's being oddly quiet."

Valkyrie blinks at him from the passenger seat. Her fingertips tap tap tap at the touchscreen. She's messaging someone. He doesn't know who. "He's...around."

"Why the pause?"

"Hm?"

"You paused," he points out, switching lanes to get around a hatchback dawdling along at 60. "He's...around. You're trying to hide something from me. I'm aware you still talk to him, you know."

She doesn't deny it. He's gotten used to that, in the last few years. She doesn't tell him things anymore. It's that distance, the distance he can try to banter over but never truly remove. She's a lot further away than his passenger seat. "He's been looking for somewhere to live, like. Now that he's here for good. So, you know. That's probably keeping him busy."

Nefarian Serpine is living out of a stuffy first-floor rented room above, of all things, Vaurien Scapegrace's pub.

He knows this not because China was having Serpine followed (although she was) or because plenty of old faces from the Sanctuary still owe him favours (although they do), but because he receives a text from Scapegrace at a quarter to midnight, in the middle of a grisly murder scene.

have u beaten anyone up lately? do u want to? think thrasher just rented one of our rooms to a war criminal

He taps out a response, half-focused on the screen and half on Valkyrie examining the photos on the dead man's mantelpiece. She looks like she's just figured something out.

Which one? Thrasher, or the other guy?

By the time he's dropped her home, said hello to the furball and returned to the city, morning is bleeding into the sky. He knocks sharply on Nefarian Serpine's peeling rented door, and then again when there's no response.

From inside, a thud.

Then another, followed by some deeply impolite language, and then the door jerks open. Serpine, wearing an impressive bedhead, a scraggly attempt at a beard and a pair of patterned socks with a hole in the toe, squints out into the hall and snaps, "D'you have ANY IDEA what time it is? This place is supposed to - ah, shite. It's you."

"It is," he agrees.

Serpine gives him a sulky jerk of the head - an invitation - and vanishes back inside. He follows, closing the door gently behind him. Inside the room is dark and depressing and smells faintly of mildew and sweat. There are clothes on the floor.

He pulls the curtains open and looks out the window, giving Serpine some privacy to get dressed.

"Found me at last, have you?" Serpine asks from over by the bed. There's a rustle of fabric and the sound of a belt being done up. "What do you want? Come to take my other hand?"

That's it. That's what's different. "Other? You don't seem to be missing any at present, Nefarian. Valkyrie's work, I take it."

Serpine sits down on the bed with a squeak of springs, and when Skulduggery turns to face him, he's smirking and, thankfully, wearing trousers. "Ever so nice of her, wasn't it? Doesn't work like the old one, though. You know. The one I used on you."

He sighs. "And here I thought this last week would've given you time to come up with some new material."

Serpine shrugs and spends a moment picking out a pair of shirts from the wardrobe beside the bed. If it's a test, it's a painfully obvious one. Almost an invitation. Go ahead, shoot me.

No, this is something Skulduggery knows far more intimately. A display of brittle confidence in the face of a threat. I'm not afraid of you. Do your worst.

Serpine is afraid of him. Afraid of being arrested, maybe, or killed, or worse. He'd have relished that fear, once. Delighted in flipping the tables.

He leans back against the desk, ankles crossed and arms folded. After a moment, Serpine turns around with a shirt on a hanger in each hand. He holds them up for an opinion.

Skulduggery points wordlessly at the green one, and the blue goes back in the closet. "If you're not here to kill me, what do you want?"

While Serpine is doing up his buttons, Skulduggery retrieves the folded sheaf of paper from the inside pocket of his long coat, and holds it up. "I came to drop these off."

Serpine's vibrant eyes narrow. "What is that? An arrest warrant?"

"A list of landlords in Roarhaven willing to rent to refugees. Valkyrie mentioned you were looking."

Serpine blinks at him. Skulduggery doesn't often bother with the facade in Roarhaven, but if he had a face right now, he'd be blinking back. It's a weirdly awkward moment.

"...thanks," Serpine says after a moment, tentatively reaching for the papers; Skulduggery leans forward to pass them over. "That'd be...helpful."

He sounds very uncomfortable saying those words. When Skulduggery responds, "You're welcome," he feels much the same.

Serpine unfolds the papers and skims them. Three pages of property listings. Tipstaff had printed them off for him with only a raised eyebrow and a, "Never thought you'd move out of Dublin, Detective."

"What brought this on?"

He looks up. "Hm?"

"You show up here at an ungodly hour of the morning, nobody to rein you in, and you're being helpful? I don't buy it. I know China as well as you do. She told you to kill me, didn't she?"

"She did," Skulduggery acknowledges, and a very old, very spiky part of him gets a kick out of watching the blood drain from Serpine's face. "I told her no."

"Bollocks."

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But it's true. Ah, don't look at me like that, Nefarian. It's got nothing to do with you. I was just feeling argumentative that day. And, if nothing else, I can always rely on China to argue with me if I tell her no."

"So -"

"For my sins, she made you my responsibility, see. I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get up to any of your old tricks. And if you do, then I'll kill you. I'll be checking in on you to make sure you're behaving yourself. Think of me as a...probation officer, of sorts. With benefits."

More blinking. This version of Serpine is not a morning person. He bets his alternate self got to sleep in far later in this Serpine's dungeon. "I'm not seeing any benefits."

"The benefit is I get to kill you if you step out of line. I never said the benefits were for you."

"Are there any benefits in this for me?"

He considers this for a moment. "You get to live. Because of me. I saved your life. "

Serpine's face is emotionless and his voice is flat.

"Oh," he says. "Yippee."

He's interviewing a witness when his phone rings.

He politely excuses himself, and steps out into the hallway to answer it. "Pleasant."

"Hello!" Serpine says brightly, and launches immediately into, "I want a car."

Skulduggery's fake face blinks at the sigil-embossed wallpaper. It takes a second to even register the voice, and another to pick up on -

"How the -? Who gave you this number?"

"Valkyrie." Serpine sounds completely unapologetic. "And you're supposed to be teaching me to drive."

Serpine can't see his head tilt. He does it anyway. "Am I now? And what gave you that idea?"

"I'm your problem now, remember? Besides, you agreed to it," is the smug answer. "Before our little holiday back to my dimension, I said I wanted a better house and a latte and a car. And driving lessons."

"I never agreed to that."

"Well, you didn't say no. That's agreement by default. Sorry."

"Plenty of people can teach you to drive, Nefarian. You could teach yourself, even. Watch a video on Youtube."

"Detective Pleasant, I am shocked," Serpine teases, suddenly dripping with insincere concern. "Think of all those poor defenceless mortals I could run into. There's an advert on the television about how you're specifically not supposed to hit them with cars. It kills them, apparently. How will I cope without you there to make sure I resist temptation?"

Skulduggery grinds his teeth. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely. I'd completely forgotten how much fun it is to have you at my mercy. And you did say you're supposed to keep an eye on me."

Skulduggery goes quiet for a moment, focusing on reining in the urge to hit something. Serpine's face. He wants to hit Serpine's face. With a chair. Trust him to figure out that being Skulduggery's responsibility meant he could go to him for help.

"Fine."

"Excellent! And now you have my number, so you can let me know when you're free."

"Since when do you have a mobile?"

"Since today," Serpine says airily. "Tanith helped me pick one out. I can talk to anyone, anywhere, whenever I like now. Isn't that great? I mean, I only have two numbers, three now that Valkyrie's given me yours, but still. Now I'll always have someone to talk to."

"This is a work line. It is not for social calls."

A passing sorcerer startles a little at his tone, and he gives her an apologetic smile. As an afterthought, he rolls his eyes in a you know how it is gesture. But she's already walking away, so really he just rolls his eyes at her back, which is probably rude of him.

Serpine is still talking. "- can send little moving pictures, and I've downloaded all these little applications, so now I do all sorts of fun things. Do you use...whatsit...Snapchat? I have Snapchat now. And I've got Angry Birds and Candy Crush and Grindr."

And that? That right there? That is more than he ever needed to know about Serpine.

"Goodbye, Nefarian," he says firmly, and hangs up.

He checks in on Serpine once a week, officially. Unofficially, he clocks more hours than he'd like to admit parked in an alley outside Scapegrace's pub, waiting for someone to scream bloody murder. Serpine spots him a couple of times, gives him a jaunty wave with his newly-regrown hand on his way to the off-licence, mocking and unconcerned.

But nobody gets murdered. Serpine seems to be...behaving. For now.

"I've volunteered you for move-in duty," Valkyrie says, apropos of nothing. When he blinks at her, she shrugs and takes a sip of her coffee. "Serpine's found a flat. He needs some furniture shifting."

He's not going to throw anything at his partner in this busy mortal cafe. He's not.

"I see. And you thought that has anything to do with me because..."

She polishes off the last dregs of her drink with a slurp. "I can't float stuff up stairs."

The apartment Serpine is moving into is a decent two-bedroom on the fourth floor of a six-floor block in a quiet area with a history of minimal unexpected-demolitions-by-overpowered-supervillain. Skulduggery idly wonders, as he pulls up in the parking area behind the building, whether a mass murderer moving in - and the frequent visits by the other mass murderer charged with keeping an eye on him - will bring down housing prices. China will hate that, when she wakes up.

Serpine is waiting for him out front, surrounded by boxes and furniture, already looking a bit frazzled. His outfit is stylish and his slicked-back hair is sticking up in places where he's been running his hands though it. He startles and looks up at the sound of footsteps, and seems to breathe a sigh of relief. "Ah! You came. Valkyrie said you'd know how to go about getting all this, you know. Up there."

"You can hire people for this, you know," Skulduggery tells him. "Removal men."

"With what money?" Serpine asks, a little helplessly. "Valkyrie gave me some of her old things, but I got most of this from - what's the word? - second hand shops, and the refugee aid centre. I've been looking for work, but...you know." He gestures at his face. "This is my criminal record."

Which...is a fair point, so Skulduggery rolls up his sleeves and moves to one end of a squashed two-seater couch. "Fair enough. Grab the other end."

Serpine's mouth almost drops open. "You want to carry it? Like peasants? I thought you were here to float the damn thing!"

Well, he could. But the world isn't actively ending right now, so he can afford to be petty. "I don't use magic unless I have to, these days. We'll be doing this the old-fashioned way."

"But." The last time he saw someone look this aghast was when Valkyrie realised how the citizens of Roarhaven saw her. "But that's manual labour!"

"A little manual labour will do you good."

"Gods, I hate you," Serpine tells him as he moves to grab the other end of the couch.

Skulduggery turns the facade on specifically to give him a smug smirk. "I know."

By the time they're finishing up the boxes, Serpine's new neighbours have come out into the hall to see what all the banging is about. They seem young, mostly - too young to recognise him from the war. Skulduggery is starting to suspect that Serpine has accidentally moved into student housing, but he keeps his mouth shut. Serpine is being chatty and charming, holding court in the corridor, and Skulduggery mostly lets him get on with it in between trips to the bottom of the stairs to pick up more boxes, until a young woman who holds Serpine's front door open for him and chuckles, "Left you doing all the work, has he? He's a talker, your boyfriend. I bet you don't get a word in edgewise."

It's not often that Skulduggery Pleasant is lost for words. "I. I'm sorry. What?"

Fortunately, Serpine chooses that moment to interrupt the conversation he's having and interject, "Oh, no, darling. We're not together. He's just here to make sure I stay out of trouble."

There's something off about how he says it, though. There must be, because the woman taps her nose like he's just confided a secret, and Skulduggery can't help but feel like he's just been made the butt of a joke he doesn't fully understand.

He checks on Serpine once a week. Occasionally Serpine texts him. A blurry photo, usually paired with a caption like, "what the hell is this?"; a set of traffic lights, or a lollipop man, or a chihuahua in a little jumper. Sometimes he responds, but sometimes he doesn't bother.

It's not like they're friends.

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Roarhaven's shopping district is bustling, and Nefarian Serpine is late.

Skulduggery's been people-watching, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, for fifteen minutes when he finally shows up with a to-go coffee cup in one hand and a stack of books under the other arm. He's frowning.

"You're late," says Skulduggery, by way of greeting.

Serpine shrugs, taking the seat opposite. He dumps his books on the round table and gives the menu a cursory glance. "Sorry. I was at the library. Almost missed the bus."

A waitress approaches wearing a shirt stamped with the logo of the little bistro they're sat outside, and while Serpine orders lunch, Skulduggery idly examines the titles stamped along the spines of his book mountain. Some of them look old, leather bound tomes with fancy gold lettering, and the rest seem to be...textbooks, of all things.

"A little light reading, Nefarian?"

"Huh?" Serpine - busy watching the waitress walk back inside - swivels round to face him, and shrugs. "Oh. Yeah. I want to see if they match up with the slanderous shite they're teaching at the university."

"Excuse me?"

Serpine shrugs. "Vapid and Ty - you know Ty, weird hair, lives next door - thought it might help me adapt if I learn more about how your world is different to mine, so. I've been sitting in on some classes. Unofficially. History. Mortal Relations. That kind of thing. You have battles here that never happened back home, you know."

Skulduggery folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair, amused despite himself. "Mortal Relations? You're going to Mortal Relations lectures. You."

"Shut up," says Serpine, pointing a finger at him. "You don't get to laugh. You're not the one nobody wants to hire. - because that's still a problem, by the way. Aren't you supposed to be helping me with that?"

"I'm supposed to be making sure you don't kill anyone or make a nuisance of yourself. Sorry to disappoint."

"Would it kill you to write me a character reference?"

Skulduggery coughs conspicuously into his gloved hand with the throat he doesn't have. He picks up the top book from Serpine's stack and flips idly through Religion & Warfare: The Rise Of The Church Of The Faceless In The 15th Century . "Think about that one for a minute, Nefarian, and you'll remember why it's not happening."

"Fine. Be like that." Serpine's shoe nudges his leg under the table. "Here, were you at the Battle of Black Rock?"

He has to think about that one for a second, then hums in the negative. "Hm. No. I missed that one. I think that was when I was holed up in Cork with a broken leg. Why?"

"History 201," Serpine muses. "I tagged along this morning. It was mostly about that fight, but it never happened in my dimension. It was borderline slanderous, honestly. The professor is an imbecile."

"You're dying to vent, aren't you?"

"Would you mind terribly?"

Skulduggery pulls his ornate pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and checks the time. "You've got fifteen minutes. Better talk fast."

Time goes by.

He checks on Nefarian once a week. They have coffee, sometimes. Valkyrie knows not to cross the line of bringing Serpine to Skulduggery's home, but she adds them both to a group chat and neither one leaves.

Nefarian wrecks his first car, and Skulduggery makes the drive out from Dublin at 5.45am to rescue him. He calls the tow truck while Serpine sits, pale and shaken, in the Bentley's front seat, drenched from the rain and squelching miserably every time he moves.

He apologises for calling so early, and for once he sounds like he means it.

Skulduggery takes him through the McDonalds drive thru to cheer him up, and as Nefarian tucks into a box of fries with gusto, he thinks, oh no.

They're not friends. They're not.

"Is this a date?"

Skulduggery tilts his head, hand stilling over the car keys. "I'm sorry?"

Valkyrie tosses another piece of popcorn into her mouth. She's already in her pyjamas, fluffy ones with dogs on them, and she's flicking through the Netflix queue. "You're all dressed up. Is this a date? Have you two finally gotten over yourselves? God knows it's been long enough."

He snatches up the car keys and sniffs, disdainful. "After all these decades, Valkyrie, if that's what your expert detective skills are telling you, I have failed as a mentor."

"And now you're getting defensive."

"I'm doing no such thing. Where's Tanith, by the way?"

She laughs and does double fingerguns at him. "And that's deflection!"

He sighs - dramatically, for her benefit - and as he checks his pocket watch, she continues, "And, she's on her way. Get out, already. You have a date to keep and we have movies to watch."

"It's not a bloody date," he complains, patting his pockets to make sure he's got everything. "And I originally asked you."

"Yeah, but opera's boring. Here, is he meeting you there or are you picking him up?"

"Goodbye, Valkyrie."

"See?!" She shouts after him as he shuts the front door. "Date!"

#skulduggery pleasant #remember when my shame post of shame was mere valdug? nope u get this now #thats right yall #i got WORSE #goodnight ✌🏻#there were gonna be more scenes in this believe it or not it just got SO FUCKING LONG #skulpine #which is not a ship tag i ever thought id be using rip

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merakiaes · 5 years

Text

He Who Waits - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested: Kind of

Warnings/notes: Mentions of smut? This is part two of the prologue-series for ‘Just Daddy’, it shows their first time being intimate. No smut, so it sucks. I didn’t have time to get into it seeing as I have a few more parts to write, but feel free to request other smut imagines.

Wordcount: 1866

Summary: Your first time being intimate with Bucky. Part 2 of the prologue-series for ‘Just Daddy’ that you can read here. Part 1 of the prologue-series you can read here. Can be read as standalone!

Following your first interaction with James Buchanan Barnes, although very brief, you had hit it off immediately. Or well, as much as you possibly could when you were pretty much polar opposites of which one was the biggest, most uncomfortable and awkward loner of them all.

It took a while to get him to open up, and even when you were closing in on your one year anniversary, he was still very quiet and reserved, and not to mention: guarded. But he had his reasons, you understood that. You had never spoken openly about his time with HYDRA, but you knew the basics of what he had been through, courtesy of Steve filling you in long before you had even met him.

It was because of his time as a lethal weapon of destruction that you had to take it slow, and you found yourself conflicted about the whole situation.

While you understood why he wanted to take it slow, and why he was the way he was, you had needs; and you wanted them to be satisfied at once. And that, in turn, made you feel awful. You didn’t want to pressure Bucky. You wanted him to set the pace and be able to feel like you weren’t getting tired of holding off.

You knew that, if the roles had been reversed, you would’ve felt bad, to say the least, if you found out your partner didn’t feel satisfied with your relationship because you were taking it too slow. So, you could only imagine how bad someone who’s been through as much as Bucky would feel if they ever found out.

What you didn’t know, was that he was better at reading people thank you ever would have thought, him apparently having known ever since the start that the slow pace was frustrating to you and that you wanted to experience all of the things a relationship usually brought with it.

But it was hard for him. Every time you touched him, he was afraid that something would snap in his head and he would hurt you, and he knew that if he ever got to see you in such a vulnerable, exposed and intimate way that you oh so much craved to be in, he would lose every sense of self control that he still held over his body.

And if that ever happened, the chances of you getting away if he suddenly went back into the super soldier, trained assassin mode, would be slim to none. He was scared of the things he was capable of if the situation called for it. He knew you could handle yourself. Oh, man, did he know it. But you would be no match to him if the Winter Soldier part of his brain was suddenly triggered.

Because of this, you still hadn’t had sex. Almost a year into your relationship, and you had yet to move on from first to second base. In other words, you had gone further with Tyler Collins in fifth grade. And no matter how much you loved Bucky and would never leave him for such a silly thing, you wanted more.

So, as you woke up on a Saturday morning at nine o’clock like any other day, you decided you would talk it out with Bucky and find out if there was anything you could do to make him feel more comfortable about getting intimate.

He visibly tensed as you first brought the subject up where you sat together in the couch in his bedroom, watching TV in silence. His hands had instantly stopped caressing soothing circles on your shins where they laid in his lap.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He had only told you lowly, eyes never wavering from the screen on the wall in front of you as his metal fingers anxiously started tapping on your bare leg.

“But you wouldn’t.” You protested, pulling your legs out of his lap to move closer to him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

His eyes fell shut at the sensation of your hand coming to cradle his cheeks, the familiar fluttering of butterflies instantly filling his chest and stomach, recognizing the feeling of your skin against his like no other.

He didn’t say anything else as you moved to straddle his thighs, both of your hands now on either side of his stubbly face. His hands flew up to grab your hips, keeping them in place when you suddenly ground down on him, his breath hitching in his throat and a warm feeling creeping up his neck at the new feeling.

“Don’t.” He muttered, but the way his hands were squeezing your sides, his face falling down to bury itself in the crook of your neck, said entirely otherwise, his body reacting immediately when you rolled your hips once more.

You slowly brought his face up to yours, wasting no time in pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss. Your lips moved in sync for a good minute before you dared to push the tip of your tongue through the barrier that was his lips, taking the fact that he hadn’t pulled away despite clearly being aware of your intentions as a good sign.

Letting your hands move from his face to his hair, you felt his grip on your hips getting stronger, but never enough to hurt you. A low moan slipped past your lips and into his mouth at the feeling of, although probably accidentally, being pressed harder down onto his lap.

The quiet but very clear sound seemed to wake him up from his trance then, making him retreat quicker than he ever had before. You had to resist the urge to whine out loud at the sudden loss of his lips against you.

You went in to attach yours to his again, too caught up in the moment to even think about the fact that he might actually not be wanting it. But you got your answer nonetheless when he didn’t resist your move.

This time he kissed you back properly, his hands slowly and hesitantly moving up your sides, taking your shirt with them. You shivered slightly at the feeling of his metal fingers grazing the skin of your waist, the feeling being unfamiliar but strangely exciting.

Bucky, however, seemed to take it as a very bad sign, as he let go of your body so quickly you might as well have been the plague, or on fire. And this time you actually did whine out loud, but Bucky didn’t seem to hear it.

His breathing was ragged from the intense make out session you had been in only a second before, but now his eyes were hard with a mixture of panic and self-hatred. “I told you we shouldn’t have done this.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” You hurried out with a shake of your head, before snickering slightly. “Your fingers were just colder than I expected.”

He seemed to relax a little at the sound of your voice and words of reassuring, but he still wasn’t convinced. You could see it in his eyes.

Caressing his lip with your thumb gently, you leaned your forehead against his. “Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel pressured into doing something you’re not ready for. I just, I want you to know that I trust you completely, and even though you might feel otherwise right now, I know you would never hurt me. When the time comes that you’re ready to, you know, go the whole way, I would tell you if you were doing something I didn’t like.”

You felt bad now, as you looked down on his conflicted expression. You never meant to make him feel bad. But unbeknownst to you, those simple sentences made him realize you were right, and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours.

Pushing back the shock, you quickly seized the opportunity in fear that it would end, bringing your hands back up to tangle in his hair, pulling at the strands softly. A low rumble arose in the back of Bucky’s throat at the feeling, your body reacting immediately and grinding you down on him.

Seeming to doubt his decision as he felt his own body react to the feeling, Bucky pulled out of the kiss briefly to look at you, eyes more than a few shades darker than their usual color.

When seeing his questionable expression, you nodded your head slightly. “It’s okay.”

Bucky kept his eyes on you for a second, before finally nodding his head too, uttering out a soft and quiet “Okay.” of his own, before slowly beginning to move you down on the couch, positioning his own body above you all while locking his lips with yours.

You let him hover above you between your legs, already starting to feel the arousal tingling all the way from your chest to your core with the way his jeans were rubbing against you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, moaning quietly at the feeling of the newfound friction as you rubbed against him.

Bucky’s hands settled on your waist under your shirt like moments before and let you set the pace, clearly not wanting to do something you didn’t want him to. Taking his lack of protest as a sign to go on as you brought your hands under his t-shirt to trace his stomach, you proceeded to slowly raise his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor.

He, in turn, took this as a sign that you were really sure, and finally took matters into his own hands and did the same to you, cold metal fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as they caressed your shirt off your body.

Moving his lips from yours to leave a trail down your chin and to your neck, he mumbled into your skin. “Just tell me if you want to stop, or if I hurt you. Please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly at the feeling, nodding your head, not trusting your voice to speak in that moment. With that simple act of confirmation, something seemed to awake in Bucky that he hadn’t felt in a long while.

Wasting no time, he started trailing one of his hands down your now bare stomach as he kept leaving open-mouthed kisses in the crook of your neck, his other hand moving up to behind your back to unclasp your bra.

Your stomach tingled at his sudden change of demeanor, enjoying the new kind of attention you were getting, to say the least. Soon enough you were both stark naked in that couch, clothes littered all over the floor, and your minds clouded with a feeling none of you had felt in way too long as you engaged in your first, but certainly not last, time together.

If only you’d had known that all it took for you to get through to him was to bring up the subject and give him some short words of encouragement, you wouldn’t have waited for so long. But you knew what they say; he who waits for something good, never waits too long.

Tagged: @breatheeagainnnn @abswritesfandoms

(Sorry again if you don’t want to be tagged, just tell me in that case. I just thought you’d like it since you were the ones who asked for the prologues!)

#avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes

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n3rdlif343va · 5 years

Note

For the Sunday prompts, romantic Victuuri with "You... want to go out... with me?"

The Opening

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

Read the Full Story on Ao3: Swing My Way

Saturday came far too quickly for Yuuri’s liking and not soon enough in Phichit’s opinion. The amount of texts Yuuri had endured with regard to what he was wearing had caused him to abandon his phone on his kitchen counter, only retrieving it when he was committed to an outfit and walking out of the door. He wasn’t sure why his clothing was such a big deal every time he played this role for Phichit, but he had taken mercy on his friend and dressed to the best of his ability.

He remembered what it was like to be the new guy in their company and even worse what it was like to be the newest promoted to a department head. Making work friends should have been a course provided in college, in place of water lab or bowling (both classes Phichit had somehow managed to convince him to take). Other than Phichit, who was technically already his friend, Yuuri hadn’t managed to come out of his shell enough to form any meaningful relationships in his workplace. They all had jobs to do and no time to fraternize, or at least that’s what he told himself when he ate his lunch alone at his desk.

Swinging his keys around his finger, Yuuri paused to lock his front door before jogging down the few steps to his waiting car. He had agreed to pick Phichit up and be the chauffer of this endeavor, but regret was swimming in his stomach as he settled into the driver’s seat. Maybe Chris and Victor would hate his driving and that would ruin Phichit’s chances to befriend the couple. Maybe Yuuri would get so nervous he would crash into a wall and kill them all. The possibilities were endless and Yuuri’s mind was determined to think of all of them as he backed out of his driveway.

The distance to Phichit’s place wasn’t nearly long enough and Yuuri barely had time to wipe his palms on his pants before Phichit was bounding into the passenger seat. Following Phichit’s eager directions, Yuuri set off in the direction of what Phichit claimed to be Chris’s house.

Nervously, Phichit fiddled with the radio and tried to think of a smooth way to end up in the backseat with Chris. Originally he thought about suggesting Yuuri pick up the other two first and thought better of it on an account that it would hardly be fair for Yuuri to face his crush alone when Phichit couldn’t man up and do the same. In the end he couldn’t come up with any brilliant ideas and settled for turning around every few minutes to converse with Chris over their short drive to the restaurant.

It was at dinner that things started to get awkward. Yuuri pulled Phichit’s chair out for him instead of letting Chris do it and stepped away from the seat that Victor offered him. In what looked like an attempt to hide Victor’s awkwardness, Chris took the offered seat instead, leaning over the corner of the table to playfully tug at the collar of Phichit’s shirt.

Warily, Yuuri eyed the way Chris was looking at Phichit. There was a chance that Phichit had gotten this entire scenario wrong and had inadvertently dragged them into some sort of swinger situation. Yuuri was definitely attracted to Victor, but he had no urge to be intimate with someone else’s partner and no urge to cross that line with Phichit or Chris at all. Fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat, Yuuri shot another concerned glance between Chris’s fingers teasing at the ends of Phichit’s hair and Phichit’s blushing cheeks.

“Puppies in love,” Victor sighed from closer to Yuuri than he expected, making him jump. When he turned, Victor’s chin was resting on his palm, his entire body angled toward Yuuri over their shared corner of the table.

Completely lost as to what was going on, Yuuri reached for his water glass and prayed for his cruel imagination to settle down.

Distracted by the beautiful hue of Chris’s green eyes, Phichit almost lost himself in the moment. Hesitantly, he snuck a glance in Yuuri’s direction and noticed the distinct waves of discomfort flowing from his friend and the slight pout decorating the face of Yuuri’s date. Pulling gently away from Chris, Phichit tried to silently send a signal of help to his own love interest.

Slinging an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, Phichit shook him once. “Victor, have you spent much time with Yuuri? Seeing as you are both responsible for entire departments.” Smiling at Yuuri to encourage him to interact, Phichit winked at Chris when a warm hand covered his knee under the table.

“Yuuri always seems to be very busy,” Victor’s smile was soft and somewhat dreamy as he leaned back into Yuuri’s space. “He is very successful but I’ve found that success is fairly lonely sometimes. Don’t you think?” Reaching his hand across the table, Victor stroked his fingers over the delicate bones of Yuuri’s wrist.

Panicking Yuuri looked anywhere but at Victor’s fingers and Phichit’s face that was too close to his own. Spying Chris’s hand moving in squeezing circles on Phichit’s thigh, Yuuri felt the moment his resistance snapped. “I’m sorry!” he shouted, standing abruptly from the table and nearly knocking his chair backwards. “I… I don’t know what you two are into… and I’m not judging you as a couple… but this… this isn’t my lifestyle!” Throwing his napkin onto the table, Yuuri took a step back as three very surprised faces stared at him. “Sorry Phichit, I can’t be your fake date for this one.”

“What?!” Three voices shouted in unison, all of them ducking their heads when the entire restaurant shushed them. “What?” Phichit hissed through his teeth, grabbing Yuuri’s wrist and yanking him back toward the table. “Why would I want you to be my fake date, when I have a real date… right here.” Waving a hand at Chris, Phichit’s brows furrowed.

Mind coming to a screeching halt, Yuuri fell back into his seat. “Wait…” he muttered, twirling his thumbs together and finally looking up at the other three men at the table. “If… if… if you’re on a date with Chris… then… who… am I…”

“With me.” Victor sighed, all of the flirtatious happiness vanishing from his demeanor. “Or I thought you were… but I guess…”

Stunned into stuttering gasps, Yuuri pointed a finger at Victor. “You…” swallowing around his own trepidation, Yuuri tried to wrap his head around Victor’s hopeful smile, “Want to go out… with me?”

#yuri on ice #yoi #victuuri #phichimetti #office au #nerd writes things

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little-red-beret · 7 years

Text

A/N: Genius here accidentally deleted a request, but I wrote a story for it before that happened. This is that story, which I’m posting without the ask since I lost that. Anon wanted a Poe x Ranpo fic where they go on a date and Poe is feverish and nauseous and Ranpo doesn’t notice and constantly talks and Poe faints. Ranpo then spends all night looking after Poe. If this was your request, sorry for losing it, but here is the story, alive and well! Enjoy~!

Poe was honestly terrified to be going on a date. He wasn’t really one for social events, let alone something as intimate as a date. It was a huge step up for him from being friends, one he had never taken before. Although he wasn’t particularly experienced, Poe somehow just knew what he felt for Ranpo was something special. With the magnitude of words he knew, there was nothing to describe how much Poe loved to see Ranpo smile. Even just the thought of Ranpo had his entire body burning. Actually, it had been burning for a long time. He was starting to think this particular sensation was not a part of love. Nonetheless, Poe was determined to enjoy himself tonight. He dressed up in his nicest suit, and even bought a rose on the way to their rendezvous point. Did Ranpo like roses? Poe was sure couples bought each other roses, so he hoped Ranpo would like it anyway. Everything was running smoothly. Poe was well dressed and punctual. He was still nervous, and rather hot. If this was a fever, Poe probably should have been resting, but it was too late to cancel the date now, anyway, and he didn’t see the damage in a ‘slightly’ above average temperature. Poe and Ranpo reached the large clock in the centre of the park at the same time. Unlike Poe, Ranpo was just dressed in his usual attire. Poe reached out and dutifully handed him the rose. Ranpo looked confused as he took it, and put it into his pocket beside his glasses. He seemed to stare at it blankly for a long time before finally looking back up at Poe. Then a big smile spread across his face. “I’m glad you could make it!” he announced. “Let’s go!” With that, Ranpo grabbed Poe by the wrist and took off running. Poe had been told nothing of what to expect for this date. He had pictured the two of them sitting across from each other over a candlelit dinner with rose petals scattered across the table, sipping expensive wine to fill awkward silences. A puzzle museum was definitely not what he had had in mind. Poe ran around with Ranpo looking at puzzles, solving riddles and putting together giant floor puzzles in an interactive exhibit. To say the least, it was a lot more running around than Poe had expected. Somehow he felt this was also a lot more fun than a fancy restaurant. However, all the excitement was tiring him out. By the time they reached the end of the museum Poe felt hot, dizzy and nauseous from the strain of running around and solving both mental and physical puzzles. Poe vowed to get plenty of rest once he got home, but the damage was already done, and it seemed the date was far from over.

Their next destination actually was a restaurant, as Ranpo had worked up an appetite from all their games. It was not elegant, but still nice, with dimly lit candles and plants hanging from the ceiling, and it was on a hidden side street, so there was almost no one else inside. Poe was barely clinging to consciousness when they sat down at the table for two. Beads of sweat ran down his face. He felt woozy and the romantic scenery wavered around him. Poe wasn’t sure if he hadn’t noticed or was simply ignoring his current condition, but Ranpo didn’t seem to acknowledge how ill Poe was. He chatted happily in a completely one-sided conversation, probably assuming Poe was content with listening. Truth be told, Poe would have been content with just listening even if he had been feeling okay, so he understood why Ranpo would think this. Poe ordered the same thing as Ranpo, and he didn’t touch his meal when it was placed before him. He couldn’t even look at it. He couldn’t look at anything. He felt so awful that all he could do was rest with his head in his hands and hold on to every word Ranpo said. Three rounds of dessert later, Ranpo stood up to leave, and that was the moment Poe’s chances of seeming normal ended. He knew that if he stood up right now, something terrible would happen. He wasn’t sure if he would be sick or faint, but there was no way he was standing up right now when he felt so awfully dizzy. Instead, he kept his head down and gripped the edge of the table with white knuckles. “Poe, are you coming? I’ve paid already,” Ranpo told him. Poe was glued to the spot. “Hey. Poe? Poe! Hello!” Poe could feel Ranpo’s presence close to him. He was probably waving a hand in Poe’s face right now in attempt to get Poe’s attention, not that he would have risked opening his eyes right now to check. “Poe, we’re leaving!” Ranpo called, and began poking and prodding at his date. “I’m sorry, but this table is reserved for someone later tonight. It needs to be cleared in the next fifteen minutes.” A shy waitress told them. “Poe, you’re being an inconvenience for the waitress. Now you definitely have to get up!” Ranpo insisted, still nudging Poe playfully. Poe carefully thought out a plan in his head of how he would get home safely, without passing out. He would first stand up nice and slowly so not to overwhelm himself. Then he would he would act calm, calmly assure Ranpo he’s okay, and calmly walk out of the restaurant. Surely it was as simple as that. Poe swayed heavily to his feet as planned, and turned to face his date. “Hey…. are you okay?” Ranpo demanded, his voice ringing with a subtle hint of alarm. It seemed he had finally noticed something was wrong. Poe was surprised he had acted convincingly for this long, but then again it was easy for him to act okay when he was this quiet all the time.

Poe opened his mouth to deliver his calm reassurance and took a step forwards, but suddenly the whole room began to spin. It felt like his foot missed the ground, and just like that he was falling forwards. The entire room went black as Poe face planted on the tiled restaurant floor at Ranpo’s feet. Poe came to with Ranpo crouched beside him. Every bone in his body ached, and he felt like he was on fire. He slowly moved, struggling to lift himself off the floor when he felt so weak and tired. “You’re really sick. You should probably go home.” Ranpo pointed out, although it didn’t take a brilliant detective to realise this. Poe lifted his head and stared at Ranpo, his crouched figure looming in and out of focus, and nodded silently in agreement. One taxi ride later, Poe arrived at his flat. “Just up these stairs now,” Ranpo instructed to the taxi driver. Poe could feel the poor driver’s chest heaving with exhaustion as he lugged Poe’s limp body up the stairs. “Don’t hold him so tightly. Make sure you support his head, like a baby. Left up here.” Poe couldn’t believe Ranpo was doing this.

“Hey, watch his feet on the doorway! That’s my date, you know!” he badgered. Finally, Poe felt the soft, familiar fabric of his favourite knitted throw beneath him. He inhaled slowly through his nose and caught the comforting scent of old books, the signature aroma of his cosy apartment. “Here’s your fare.” “Sorry for the trouble,” Poe called to the taxi driver, even though there was no chance they had heard his tiny voice as they walked out of Poe’s apartment. The moment the door shut, Poe let out a sigh and moaned miserably. He felt so dizzy and woozy and sick. To make matters worse, he had ruined their date by fainting. Maybe Poe really wasn’t cut out for this dating thing. Ranpo deserved someone who knew how to properly enjoy themselves, not the walking, stuttering disaster that was Edgar Allan Poe. Ranpo placed a cool cloth across Poe’s forehead and brought him a fuzzy blanket that Poe identified as being from his bedroom. It was uncomfortably hot, especially on top of his suit jacket, button up shirt and already overheated body, but there was no way Poe would have the courage to speak up and tell Ranpo he was looking after him wrong. Instead Poe tried to soak up all the coolness he could from the cloth on his forehead. “Where are the snacks?” Ranpo asked. “The snacks?” Poe repeated faintly. “Yeah. I need food if I’m going to be looking after you all night,” Ranpo explained nonchalantly, sitting back on his heels beside the couch. “Ah! Y-you don’t have to!” Poe insisted, quickly sitting up to protest some more, causing the cloth on his head to fall into his lap with a wet slap. Dizziness rushed over Poe and suddenly he began to feel sick all over again. Ranpo lightly pushed Poe back down, and he fell as easily as a stack of wooden blocks. “People always look after me when I’m sick,” Ranpo explained with a shrug. He placed the cloth back onto Poe’s forehead. “Isn’t it just what people do?” “I guess….” Poe agreed half-heartedly, glancing at the rose that bloomed out of Ranpo’s pocket like some kind of magician’s trick. Poe could feel himself glowing warmly, and not just from the fever this time. He felt so special to have Ranpo by his side. “Now, where are the snacks?” Ranpo asked again. “Top left cupboard.” Poe answered. Within a few seconds, Ranpo had brought a box of chips back to Poe’s side and was munching on them contently. The sight of them made Poe want to be sick. “I’m sorry for fainting.” Poe suddenly blurted out. “You shouldn’t have gone on the date if you were sick,” Ranpo told him. “But…. but I was looking forward to it…. and I didn’t want to cancel when it was so close to the date.” Poe admitted bashfully. “What kind of excuse is that?” Ranpo cried in disbelief between mouthfuls of chips. “I just thought it would seem strange to cancel so suddenly!” Poe cried back defensively. “So what?” Ranpo replied bluntly. He set the chips aside and grabbed Poe’s right hand, intertwining their fingers. “I want you to be in good condition when we’re solving puzzles together.” “I will….” Poe promised giddily. His heart was fluttering in his chest. He felt so weak and overwhelmed with admiration he feared he may faint again. “I want us to be able to enjoy ourselves when we’re together.” Ranpo told Poe, and flashed him a bright smile, the one Poe loved. “Right?” It was too much for him. Poe uttered a faint sigh and his head fell back into the pillows, no longer able to handle his own body heat, made worse by the suit, the fuzzy blanket and all the emotions he was feeling. “Poe…. huh?”

#bungou stray dogs #edogawa ranpo #edgar allan poe #ranpoe #ranpo x poe #sickfics #sickfic #sick #fever #nausea #nauseous #faint #fainting #upset stomach #bsd

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kartiavelino · 6 years

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‘Overboard’ and ‘Mom’ star Anna Faris is making motherhood fun again

If Anna Faris hadn’t gone into appearing, she’d have made an excellent therapist. Right here you’re, simply making an attempt to interview her about her new film “Overboard,” a remake of the 1987 Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn rom-com, and earlier than you recognize it she’s slyly asking the questions as a substitute — about childhood, work, the firefly inhabitants in your space. (She’s method into bugs.) This is an uncommon trait in an actor; the career steadily requires a sure stage of narcissism. Nevertheless it’s a top quality that has made Faris profitable as host of the podcast “Unqualified,” through which she chats with well-known visitors but in addition dives headlong into her callers’ issues, usually getting borderline choked up as she talks them by heartbreak or dysfunctional household dynamics or the planning of marriage proposals. Gown, $5,275, and denim jacket, $1,375, each at Versace, 647 Fifth Ave.; “Aleesha” mules, $1,295 at Giuseppe Zanotti, 806 Madison Ave.; 14-k white-gold earrings with diamonds, $2,530 at EF Assortment; Lili Claspe x Ritani 14-k yellow-gold ring with diamonds, $1,310 at Ritani.Sheryl Nields “I simply needed some interactions that didn’t need to do with movie star,” says the 41-year-old Faris, clad in a T-shirt and ripped denims. Her wide-eyed face nonetheless bears traces of the make-up from our cowl shoot at a sunlit Santa Monica home, the place we’re hanging out upstairs within the artwork studio. Earlier than she began her podcast in 2015, she says, “I used to be attending to really feel like each time I talked to any individual, it was like I didn’t have any type of real connection. I discovered myself turning into actually introverted, even agoraphobic. And I didn’t wish to cease exploring — this sounds so f–kin’ lofty — the thought of human connection. And of loneliness.” This quiet, introspective lady is a marked distinction from the slapstick comedian who an hour earlier had our whole Alexa crew in stitches, and who obtained her begin within the satirical “Scary Film” sequence, parlaying her four-film run right into a profession of outsized roles: a past-her-prime Playmate in “The Home Bunny”; a neurotic hedonist in “What’s Your Quantity?”; a coked-up, sword-wielding model of herself within the Key & Peele comedy “Keanu.” “Keenen [Ivory Wayans, director of ‘Scary Movie’] advised me at some point that the rationale I used to be solid was as a result of I had no thought what made me humorous,” she says. “I cherished that. I contemplated it. I by no means thought I’d make it as an actor generally. I had by no means been a part of the comedic world.” Does she know what makes her humorous now? “I feel it’s my ridiculous faces,” she says after a pause. “Or the truth that I desperately wish to be taken significantly. Most likely a mixture there.” She’ll be utilizing these comedic chops again in her just-released movie. “It was terrifying to remake a film that I cherished a lot rising up,” she says of the unique “Overboard,” which noticed Hawn enjoying a bitchy socialite whose amnesia is exploited by Russell’s blue-collar carpenter to make her assume she’s his spouse and the mom of his 4 unruly sons. Within the up to date model, Faris takes on the Russell position: She’s a working mother who hoodwinks an obscenely rich man-child (performed by Mexican celebrity Eugenio Derbez) into taking good care of her home and daughters whereas she research to turn out to be a nurse. “At first I used to be like, ‘What do you imply, we’re switching roles? I wish to be the one with the loopy character arc!’” says Faris, who may simply emulate Hawn’s look. However in the end, she says, she embraced the swap, and factors out that the love story between the couple (arguably essentially the most uncomfortably retro factor of the unique) isn’t entrance and middle on this model. “I like that my character is simply kind of too burdened together with her life to have [romance] be any type of focus,” she says. “As an individual who’s been — in my private life and within the characters I play — making an attempt to please all people round me and win a dude or no matter, I simply appreciated that.” This is smart, given what’s been occurring in her life recently: Faris break up from her husband, actor Chris Pratt, final yr after eight years of marriage, and the media scrutiny has been intense. Including to the awkwardness of this was the arrival of Faris’ 2017 memoir, additionally known as “Unqualified,” written earlier than the break up however revealed after it. Each Pratt and Faris have stated publicly that they’re nonetheless good mates and dedicated to co-parenting their 5-year-old son, Jack. For the time being, very like her characters in “Overboard” and the CBS sitcom “Mother,” Faris is squarely targeted on her child and her profession. Positive, she’s obtained extra sources than her working-class movie counterparts, however says she nonetheless struggles in opposition to expectations to be the proper mom. “As a girl, particularly, there’s that inevitable lack of id,” she says. “I really feel like I get judged on mother e-mail chains, if I didn’t contribute to the factor, however I meant to, or no matter. There’s this fixed undercurrent of guilt.” Brandon Maxwell jacket, $1,121 at Shopbop; Brandon Maxwell high, $1,295, and denims, $475, each at Saks Fifth Avenue; SJP by Sarah Jessica Parker “Doe” slingbacks, $375 at SJP Pop-Up Store, 6 W. 52nd St.; Earrings, $995 at Ariel Gordon Jewellery.Sheryl Nields She goals for Zen and often lands somwhere close to ok. “Am I doing this proper? Do I care? Not likely,” she says, giving voice to the narrative in her head. “Is he gonna put these Legos in his mouth? Perhaps. Do I care? I’m unsure. He’s gonna vomit within the pool. Do I care? Not likely. “However,” she continues, “I feel he’s a bit of stronger as a result of I’m not a lot of a helicopter mother or father. Once I watch Jack overcome a worry or work one thing out on his personal, I’ll see him take a look at me throughout the room and I’m like, ‘You bought this, dude.’ And my coronary heart will simply fill with pleasure as he figures it out and is courageous.” An English-major graduate of the College of Washington, Faris was a self-proclaimed offended teen whose drama-club crowd was nicknamed the Bat-Cavers. She’s lengthy agitated for roles which can be extra advanced than Hollywood has typically supplied girls. Her temporary, devilish 2003 look as a ditzy actress in Sofia Coppola’s “Misplaced in Translation” is one of many movie’s underrated pleasures. In 2007, she performed a stoner named Jane within the indie “Smiley Face,” which stays certainly one of her favourite elements. “I feel that film made about 200 bucks. However I’d get up so thrilled that I’d get to say these scrumptious traces from this f – – ked-up character who wasn’t chasing a man.” It impressed her, she says, to push for modifications to her subsequent position: “I attempted to make a case in ‘The Home Bunny’ for no love curiosity,” she says. “However you win some, you lose some. I like Colin Hanks, so … that’s OK. However,” she says, brightening up, “Christy hasn’t had too many love pursuits.” Christy can be Faris’ lead position, almost 5 years operating, on “Mother,” the place she performs a single mom and recovering alcoholic regularly reconciling together with her personal unorthodox mother, Bonnie (Allison Janney). The present is notable for its largely feminine solid and an unwavering give attention to the method of dependancy restoration — not, at first look, the pure stuff of comedy. “It feels refreshing,” says Faris. “I like the moments after we all get to be broad and humorous however then additionally get the chance to be intimate, particularly in that multicamera format, and to succeed in out and transfer folks indirectly. The traces, you recognize, are not often even actually gender-specific.” On the present, whose season finale is Might 10, Faris’ character struggles with a brand new temptation (after beforehand almost relapsing on alcohol). “Christy succumbs to a weak spot, which is playing, one thing I’m actually not good at,” Faris says with fun. “I feel you possibly can in all probability learn each expression that’s crossing my face.” That transparency is channeled on her podcast, which she says has made her really feel extra in command of her personal narrative.“I really feel like I can inform my story the way in which I wish to. Not that I wish to share all the things,” she says, “however no less than understanding I may is very nice.” Off-White jacket, $1,145, and denims, $660, each at Saks Fifth Avenue, 611 Fifth Ave.; “Maidugur” pumps, $995 at Manolo Blahnik, 31 W. 54th St.; 14-k white-gold earrings with diamonds, $2,530 at EF Assortment. Sheryl Nields Alexander Wang cami high, $395 at FWRD; Alexander Wang “Stack Tie” denims, $375 at Internet-A-Porter; 14-k white-gold choker necklace with diamonds, $3,525 at EF Assortment. Sheryl Nields Ben Taverniti Unravel Mission denim jacket, $910 at Saks Fifth Avenue.; Denims, $355 at Ulla Johnson, 15 Bleecker St.; 14-k white-gold choker necklace with diamonds, $3,525 at EF Assortment. Sheryl Nields Ben Taverniti Unravel Mission denim jacket, $910 at Saks Fifth Avenue.; Denims, $355 at Ulla Johnson, 15 Bleecker St.; “Tegan” pumps, $875 at Jimmy Choo; 14-k white-gold ring with diamonds, $3,925 at Ritani. Sheryl Nields Up Subsequent Ex-firefighter union chief arrested after drunkenly crashing automotive, fleeing scene: cops The previous head of town’s firefighter’s union was arrested… 4 View Slideshow Style Editor: Serena French; Stylist: Anahita Moussavian; Hair: Richard Marin for Cloutier; Remix utilizing Leonor Greyl; Make-up: Jill Cady for Cloutier; Remix utilizing Koh Gen Do; Manicurist: Ashlie Johnson at The Wall Group utilizing Chanel Vernis Anna Faris was shot on location at 1427 Georgina Ave., Santa Monica, Calif. The luxurious four-bedroom house (full with a 45-foot-long pool and out of doors eating area) is listed for $7.25M by the Company’s Santiago Arana and Griffin Riddle. Extra info right here or name 310-890-3306. Share this: https://nypost.com/2018/05/09/overboard-and-mom-star-anna-faris-is-making-motherhood-fun-again/ The post ‘Overboard’ and ‘Mom’ star Anna Faris is making motherhood fun again appeared first on My style by Kartia. http://www.kartiavelino.com/2018/05/overboard-and-mom-star-anna-faris-is-making-motherhood-fun-again.html

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