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hxneyandespressx · 3 years

Text

since we’re alone, you can show me your heart

summary: what happens when derek gets a nightmare? the only one who can calm him down is his pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x derek morgan (moreid)

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: mentions of gun and shooting

a/n: set after criminal minds season 11 episode 11 entropy

☆。*。☆。

Spencer ran frantically around his dark and messy apartment, picking up the case files and Chinese takeout boxes that had piled up on his antique coffee table. Few peanut oil stains stuck onto the wooden top. The anxious man took the nearest napkin, hoping that it was clean, and tried his best to wipe off the oil stains. Seeing that they wouldn’t come off, Spencer exasperatedly dropped the napkin onto the table and rushed over to his kitchen, grabbing the necessary cleaning supplies. He got his bottle of white vinegar and water, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and an old rag underneath the kitchen sink.

By the time Spencer was done, every room in his apartment was clean to his standard. Not a book out of place, no dust lingering in the air. Spencer felt both scared and excited about having his co-workers come over to his place. He never had them over until today. He felt scared if a game, like truth or dare, made him confess his true feelings about his boyfriend.

Derek and Spencer had worked with each other for a long time. As the years went by, experiencing the highs and lows of being FBI agents together, the two of them felt their hearts yearn for each other, but neither of them acted upon it. They were scared of the possibility of rejection, tarnishing their friendship. It was not until Derek decided to break the ice and asked out Spencer. The young man was delighted to have his crush ask him out. It was the one thing that went right in his life.

Three months in and either of them hasn’t said “I love you” yet. Either of them was scared to frighten off the other. Saying “I love you” was a big commitment. They were trying to take things slow, not to rush each other, even though they had known each other for a long time.

The gang was heading over to Spencer’s for a little sleepover to relax as they hadn’t received any new cases within the past 2 weeks. It was nice to have a break from all the traveling and dealing with unsubs; however, it does get boring doing paperwork and in-office consultations for hours.

Spencer’s phone pinged multiple times and a bunch of text notifications came.

Hotch: Sorry, can’t make it. I couldn’t find a babysitter for Jack and Jessica is busy at work tonight. Maybe next time.

Tara: going out on the town with the ladies!

Penelope: sorry spencer but jj tara and i are having a ladies night :(

JJ: sorry spence! perhaps next time!

Rossi: Sorry kid. Forgot to tell you that I’m driving up to Montauk to visit a buddy of mine.

Spencer sighed and felt defeated. Everyone bailed on him at the last minute. Everyone except for Derek. That was fine with Spencer, as this could be a date night for them. Just then, the doorbell rang, indicating someone had arrived. Having a small smile on his face, Spencer scurried to the front door and opened it. It revealed one handsome Derek Morgan, who was holding a large pizza in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

“I saw in the group chat that everyone else bailed on this.” Derek said.

“Yeah but this could be a date night for us.” Spencer smiled at his little proposition. Derek smiled, showing off his brilliant pearly whites, as he entered the apartment.

The couple spent their night-in watching movies, eating pizza, and Spencer going off tangents on his passions. Whenever Spencer starts to rant about one of his passions, Derek just stared at his little genius and smiled at how happy his boyfriend was. And that continued all night long, Derek listening to Spencer talk about 19th-century British literature, coupled with watching random movies of various genres.

Nearing 1 am, the couple laid on the couch, with Spencer in Derek’s arms. The tv was playing Julie & Julia in the background. Spencer was half asleep and noticed that Derek was sleeping already. He gently wiggled out of Derek’s arms and stood up from the couch, scratching his scalp and messing up his already messy curly hair.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.” Spencer softly said, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. Derek woke up, feeling groggy. Spencer led the way to his room, holding Derek’s hand. They both flopped onto the bed and Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist. They were used to sharing a room together, even a bed due to mistakes occurring at the hotels they stayed at when they were on cases. Sleep washed over them as the golden dust of the Sandman worked its magic.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Standing across from Derek were Spencer and Cat Adams. The hitwoman had a gun pointed at one scared Spencer Reid. Internally, Derek was screaming. On the outside, he kept his cool and calm composure.

“Morgan, get out.” Spencer demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Derek said, his voice shaking a little.

“Hm… I guess we’re back where we started. You and me with a gun.” Cat said without a care in the world, keeping the gun aimed at Spencer.

“Reid, it’s time.”

“No.”

“We don’t have a choice. We have to do it,” Derek said. Spencer kept shaking his head no. “We found your father.” the unsub stood there in shock for a few seconds, before rage set inside of her.

“You’re lying. I don’t like men who lie. You men are all the same.” Cat said as she gauged the trigger on her gun. She shot Spencer in the head and without hesitation, Derek started to shoot at the unsub. Derek ran over to Spencer and held his dying love in his arms. He tried to keep him alive until the paramedics came. The last words Derek said was “I love you” before his boy wonder went limp.

Derek woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He heard himself breathing heavily and felt anxious from the nightmare he just had. The frightened man groggily rubbed his eyes to get rid of the Sandman’s dust. Leaning his back against the headboard, Derek stared at the wall across from him, concentrating his eyes on one spot. He hoped that this technique would help him fall back asleep. Alas, he was shaken up from the nightmare.

The dazed man anxiously searched for his phone, wondering how much time has passed. Fumbling through the grey sheets and trying not to wake up Spencer, Derek found his phone, turning on the touchscreen, the blue screen lit up brightly. 3:20 am. Derek took a deep breath and sighed, leaning his head back onto the headboard and looked over to see his baby-faced boyfriend fast asleep. A soft smile appeared on Derek’s face, reminding him of his reality: Spencer being his angel.

Feeling restless, Derek pushed the comforter off of himself and quietly got off of the bed. He opened the bedroom door and went to the bathroom that was down the hall. His hands turned on the faucet and cupped together to gather the running water. Derek splashed cold water onto his face, making him more alert and awake. His eyes caught the sight of his face in the mirror. Smile lines decorated his face, which contrasted the dark circles forming underneath his eyes. Derek sighed and made his way towards the kitchen.

Derek has come over to Spencer’s place many times before, so much so he knows the way around like the back of his hand. With ease, his muscular hand grabbed a tall glass, with an accompanying coaster, in one of the cabinets above. He filled the glass with water from the faucet below. Loud gulps could be heard as Derek drank the water, cool and fresh like he had found an oasis. Just as Derek gently placed the glass on the coaster, his ears caught the shuffling feet of a tired Spencer.

“Derek?” Spencer tiredly said. “What are you doing up?”

“Just needed some water, that is all.” Derek said his half truth-half lie. The young man shrugged and went towards the refrigerator.

Unknowingly, Derek started to tap his fingers against the dark grey laminate countertop. Spencer caught the sound with his ears and turned to face his boyfriend.

“Derek? Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you’re tapping your fingers across the countertop.” Spencer pointed out. When the tired genius mentioned the action, Derek immediately stopped, his eyes glancing at Spencer.

“We’re profilers, Derek. You can’t hide anything from me.” Spencer said, feeling concerned for his best friend. The mousy-haired man felt like a hypocrite after saying that to Derek. During the many years he worked with the handsome man in front of him, Spencer developed a crush on him. At first, it was just a silly little infatuation, but as time passed, it changed to being a crush. The young man was able to hide it well. That was until Derek reciprocated his feelings. That same crush turned into Spencer dating Derek. In these past few months, Spencer wanted to tell his angel of a boyfriend that he loved him, but he was scared that Derek would run away from him, just like everyone else in his life.

“Ha– you’re right, pretty Ricky,” Derek said in defeat, hanging his head low. Spencer came up behind Derek slowly, hesitant to show some affection to his probably scared boyfriend. He mustered up his own fears and gave Derek a hug from behind, and felt his boyfriend relaxing in his arms. The couple stood in silence for some time, savoring the unspoken quietness between them.

“Remember when you had to go in as bait for Cat Adams?” Derek asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh– yeah. Why are you asking?” Spencer responded, not getting the hint where the conversation was going.

“Two weeks since that case, I had these nightmares. I thought I could get through with it, but I can’t. My nightmare was about that. I dreamt that you were shot by Cat.” Derek explained.

“Derek…” Spencer felt shocked while his heart was breaking. He felt like he had to do something. But all he could do was sit and listen to his boyfriend get everything off his chest.

"I wish this is a nightmare that I could just wake up from... but it feels all real... and I hate every second of it. I felt like I was going to lose you when it actually happened,” Derek’s voice cracked a bit as tears pricked his deep brown eyes. “And I don’t want this to repeat. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” Spencer quietly said, caresses Derek’s cheek. “We will make sure she stays in prison, alright?” Derek brought Spencer in for a long embrace. The mousy-haired man wrapped his arms around his athletic boyfriend’s waist as he placed his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. The soft warmth coming off of Derek comforted Spencer, clashing with her cold pale skin.

“I just uh…” Derek said tiredly.

“Yeah.” Spencer replied, smiling softly. He knew in his heart that Derek said “I love you” to him.

“You know?”

“I know.”

taglist: @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @iconicc / @sunlightgalaxy / @pumpkin-stars / @hotchgans / @pen3mily / @hotchsbabygirl / @gravelyhumerus / @morcias / @notsosmexy / @cherrychris / @hqtchner / @girlbossjareau / @pagetsimp / @a-writers-ramblings / @morceid

#honeys stories #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #moreid #moreid fanfiction #moreid fanfic #mlm yearning #fanfiction #fanfic #userchips #userjemilyology #usersunlight #userhj #usercosmic #usertiana #userablake #userkodi

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Dangerous and Divine - Part 10

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 In case you hadn’t guessed, this is my ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU. The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. A little voyeurism. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

You realised you must look like a fish, your mouth had dropped open in a big O. No sound came out of it though, as your brain had frozen solid when you’d heard Billy’s words.

He looked at you, worried frown on his face, “I know! I know what you’re gonna say. It’s too fast. I think it’s too fast too! - but I can’t help how I feel. It’s like I’ve run into a wall or something. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Wanna be with you all the time. Wanna make love to you all the time.”

You scratched the bristly hairs under his chin, running your fingers through them and into those on his neck. Still trying to think of what to say.

“Uh, I...” you stuttered, thinking ‘good start, “...Billy, I really like you. I’m enjoying being with you, and I’ve definitely got feelings for you. Already. And it scares the living shit out of me too. Not sure exactly what they are just yet,” you smiled at him, and were relieved to see him smile back. “But, yeah, I think I’ll hang around so I can find out. If that’s OK with you.”

He was still smiling, and leaned over to kiss you softly. “That’s more than OK with me. We can both be scared together.” Your arms went round his neck, your lips dotting little kisses onto his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips. “Yeah - let’s do that.” His eyes were still closed and a happy little smile had appeared on his face.

Oh, and Billy?” Dark eyes opened slowly and looked at you, “You know how we didn’t use a condom?” A tiny little frown on his brow, “Yeah?” “There won’t be any mini-Russo’s running around, don’t worry. I’m on birth control.” He chuckled, “Okay, I suppose that’s good to know. Wouldn’t have been a problem if it did happen, though.” You burst out laughing, “Really? Not a problem for you, so you say, but have you thought about how it might’ve been a problem for me?”

He sat up a bit, “Well... no I guess I didn’t. Would it be that much of bad thing?” You lay down and stared up at the ceiling. After a moment or two of silence, you hummed and said, “Well, having kids is not in my immediate life plan, but I’m not ruling it out.” Billy perched his chin on your shoulder, and you turned your head to meet those deep dark eyes again. He grinned, “Okay, I hear you. Guess it’s not in my plans right now either. But I have to say, we’d make beautiful babies.”

You smiled, “Maybe... but you still aren’t getting me pregnant and locking me in the kitchen!”

Billy had just laughed, giving you more of the puppydog eyes.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After Billy had finally enjoyed a very pleasurable joint shower the next morning - he’d been fantasising about that ever since that time she’d locked him out of her bathroom - he’d dropped her at the Chelsea café before heading out to Anvil. He had a huge smile on his face as he thought back to the two of you playing around under the warm water of her rainfall shower, having immense fun and indulging each other with erotic pleasures.

But then his smile faded a little bit. His mind had moved on and was now playing over their conversation from the previous evening. Should he have told her how he felt? Not that he’d meant to, to be honest, but his sex-drowsy brain and loved-up mindset had let his mouth just blurt it out. It wasn’t like he was lying or anything, he’d just not planned for it to happen that way or at that particular time. She hadn’t said she was in love with him, but he was very pleased that she’d actually admitted she had feelings for him, which was good enough for him for the time being.

He was making his second cup of coffee by the time Frank arrived, so made him one too. The two buddies lounged back in their chairs, sipping at their caffeine hits, and Billy started catching Frank up with the dramas of the previous day, who listened with an increasingly amazed look on his face.

When Billy got to the bit about Madani’s visit to Anvil and what she’d done as soon as she arrived, Frank swore out loud and said angrily that he shouldn’t leave it like that, he should report her. Billy sighed, “Now’s not the time, Frankie. My girl’s got the right idea, she wants to wait till the case is done and then we’ll see. Madani’s crazy mad enough right now without us stirrin’ up more trouble for her.”

Frank grumbled, “Even more unhappy havin’ to work with her now. She’s a loose cannon.”

Billy shrugged, “You know we don’t have a choice, Frankie. And it was my dumb idea to lead her on in the first place.” He looked over at him, “This hotel meet tomorrow should bring this whole fuckin’ thing to a close.”

Their case was coming to a head. There had been shady goings-on back in Afghanistan when the two friends had been in the Marines, involving black ops and drug-smuggling which had led to Madani’s then-partner getting killed, and Billy getting his Anvil funding from CIA bad guy Rawlins. He was dead now too. And Madani was determined to get his remaining accomplices, one way or another. Homeland was using an undercover agent to lure them into a trap with the promise of selling them video and phone tap evidence, and Homeland had agreed to work jointly with Anvil on it.

Frank and Billy had insider knowledge which was crucial to keeping the undercover agent safe from discovery. They were originally arrested after the gun battle which ended Rawlins’ life because Anvil had muscled in on the confrontation between him and Homeland, and Frank had killed Rawlins in the course of it. Once the remaining two accomplices were under arrest - tomorrow hopefully - Homeland had promised Billy and Frank that all pending charges against them would be dropped.

Frank frowned, looking like a huge irate teddy bear, “It better,” he said darkly.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were immersed in paperwork, but your mind kept wandering. It was a busy little bee. All the stuff that had happened yesterday... it was a lot to take in. Madani’s two visits to you, her full-on assault of Billy, and then... Billy and what he’d said. Yeah, those three little words.

You could tell by his eyes when he’d said it that he’d surprised himself. At least he was as scared as you were. Did you love him? Really not sure. You definitely had feelings for him, that was for damn sure. When Madani had told you she was seeing Billy, you could have cheerfully murdered her. And again, when Billy told you what she’d done to him.

He’d told you this morning that in all honesty, if you hadn’t been in his life, his prior persona would have just let her carry on with it. You’d appreciated that he was being completely truthful with you, about that and also about stopping her in her tracks. He’d actually seemed quite shocked about how she’d behaved. And really not looking forward to seeing her again.

But he’d also told you that the case should be coming to a close tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait for it to be done and dusted. He also said he had a surprise for you which he’d tell you about tonight.

A smile crept onto your lips as you thought about seeing him that night. He was going to pick you up at your place and then head over to his, as he was cooking you dinner this time.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was flitting around his kitchen area, tea towel over his shoulder, wooden spoon in hand, picking up and moving pots and pans around his cooker, and basically just being a domestic god.

You were sipping wine, sitting at his kitchen table and watching this vision unfold in front of you, as you’d been told that you weren’t allowed to help. He looked edible, never mind the food - which smelt delicious. Billy was making pasta with meatballs in a tomato sauce, joking that it wasn’t quite as fancy as the lunch you’d made for him. And he’d also sliced fresh crusty bread with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar alongside for dipping.

“How’d it go with Mizzzz Madani today?” you asked, drawing out the “Ms” mockingly, dying to know what had happened. You could hear his sigh from where you were sitting. He looked over his shoulder at you, running a hand through his hair and frowning as he did, “Uhhhh... how can I put it? Really. Fuckin’. Awkward.”

He turned back to the food steaming away on the cooker top, continuing, “She just literally glared at me for the whole briefing. Like if she’d had knives with her, they’d all be stuck in me right now. Didn’t speak a word to me the whole time.”

“You know, Billy - that really fuckin’ annoys me! She’s the one who created the whole situation.”

Again a sigh, “Well, like I said to Frankie before the meeting, it was my dumb ass that thought leadin’ her on was a good way of getting her to keep us in the loop.”

“Yeah, you’re right but listen, she escalated this beyond reason when she stalked me and jumped you! You know what, Billy, once this is done and you and Frank are free and clear, I’m going after her ass.”

Billy started dishing up, chuckling as he did so, “That’s my girl!” “Billy, I reckon she thought I’d crumble when she marched into my café with her power dressing and big shiny badge. She picked the wrong person to piss off!” Strolling across to the table, Billy put the two plates of food down along with the cutlery, leant in and kissed you long and slow. “Mmmm,” he grinned, “yeah, she really did!”

His eyes softened, and he whispered, “I love you.” “Oh Billy,” you whispered back, and kissed him. Then you drew back, looking down at your dinner, “This looks and smells amazing!” “Stop changing the subject,” he grinned, sitting down and starting to eat. “Now that I told you, I’m just gonna keep saying it to you, and one time you might say it back to me!” You stroked his jaw, dragging your fingers through his beard, “You big sap.” He nodded, “Uhuh.”

“Now, tomorrow...” he continued, “...we’re finishing this thing. Can’t tell you details, but we’re gonna be based in one of the big hotels downtown. I’ve booked a room. Can you bunk off work to spend some time with your boyfriend? Sexy times in a fancy hotel room before he goes on his mission... and afterwards?”

You smirked, “Might do. If he makes it worth my while.” Bigger smirk from him, “He will, you can bank on it.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had dropped you home after dinner; he had to head back to Anvil as he, Frank and their team needed to get prepped for the next day. You felt quite giddy when you realised he’d taken time out just to make you dinner. Maybe you did love this guy!

You texted Jake & Jen to say you’d decided to take the next day off, but they could of course get in touch with you if need be.

Jake: No problem, have a great day off 😌

Jen: Lucky you!!!! 😉🥵

You laughed at Jen’s reply, cheeky woman! She’d guessed exactly what you’d be up to on your day off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Packing an overnight bag after you’d showered and dressed very early the next morning, you made sure to include some pretty lingerie. Billy was in for a treat.

Speak of the devil. Your phone chimed with a new text.

Your Boyfriend: I’m outside your place, my angel 😘

You: Do you have to be on time, all the time? 🙄😌

Your Boyfriend: Ex-Marine, darling 🥷😉😘

You: OK big boy, I’ll be down in 5 😘

Your Boyfriend: 🍒🍆😈

Twenty minutes later, you were driven into the hotel’s underground carpark in Billy’s SUV (no Wraith today!) and he asked you to wait in the car until he came back for you. Once he returned with the keycard, he took you up to the lifts via the fire exit stairs, so you wouldn’t have to walk through the lobby. Very cloak and dagger, you thought.

The hotel room was very fancy indeed, all boutique hotel chic. You’d just put your large tote bag down beside the bed, when two arms grabbed you, spun you round and threw you onto the bed. Billy nuzzled into your neck, making low growling sounds. His hands got busy unfastening your shirt, so you started on his, both of you kissing each other’s skin wherever you could reach it.

Billy groaned, “Angel... sorry, this is gonna have to be a really quick thing, m’nearly due to get kitted up for this fuckin’ op.” “That’s okay,” you gasped, “just get your clothes off, Russo.” He grinned, sitting up on his knees and stripping off his shirt, followed by his boots, jeans and CK boxer briefs. You were just lying there, eyes drinking in that fine body of his, until he took hold of his erection and gave himself a few strokes, stiffening even more. That snapped you out of your trance, and you sat up and stripped off your clothes quick as a flash.

You and Billy then kind of leapt on each other at the same time, and you found yourself tumbling backwards again onto the huge bed with Billy on top of you. He slid two fingers gently inside you before finding your clit and rubbing at it hard with his thumb. He was kissing your neck and then your breasts, licking your nipples roughly, making you give little squeals.

His fingers left you, and you felt him move his hard cock between your legs with his hand. He pushed inside with one big thrust and you gave a big, deep sigh at how good he felt inside you. Hearing Billy sigh out your name as he buried himself in you, you thought you also heard a click. Billy was kissing you hungrily and had started thrusting into you at a pretty fast pace. All thoughts of anything else went out of your head.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Dinah Madani had calmed down quite a lot over the last 24 hours.

She’d drunk herself into oblivion when she’d got home after leaving Anvil, and had to sit through that excruciating briefing with Russo and Castle the next day nursing a raging hangover. Did she regret what she’d done? Any of it? No, she didn’t.

To put it mildly, she wanted Billy Russo, and had thought she was going to get him. While she knew that she’d lost her head over him, that she’d looked so desperate when she’d jumped him in his office, she really didn’t give a shit. Madani had decided to take a shot at getting him back, and she’d taken it.

It hadn’t worked. That had really surprised as well as humiliated her. What did that bitch have that she didn’t? Anyhow, yeah - he’d kicked her to the curb, so she was just going to have to take it on the chin and move on. Not that she was happy about it, and easier said than done.

She’d decided to hunt Russo down in his room and go over some last-minute details with him. And if she was honest, maybe see if being in a hotel bedroom with him changed the dynamic any. The hotel manager had given her a master keycard as she was Agent-in-Charge of this undercover op. She was going to go in unannounced she decided, well she was the boss on this op after all. Maybe Russo would be in the shower, she mused to herself, with a pleasurable thrill.

As she opened the door and walked in, about to call out his name, what she saw did not please her in the slightest. Billy Russo’s naked tight ass thrusting up and down, him sighing and groaning out loud, lying in between a pair of legs, and she could just guess who they belonged to.

Wanting to turn round and get the hell out of there, Madani found herself rooted to the spot. It was like car crash TV... she just couldn’t bring herself to look away. So, she stood there and just watched.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

when richie met y/n • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

prologue

requested: idk if your taking requests rn BUTTTT could you do a richie fic that’s like when harry met sally? if you’ve seen it that is 🌟🌟🌟~🤍

warnings: mentions of sexist stuff, bc richie is a dick, mentions of sex, slander of the name sheldon (sorry), talking about the plot of casablanca but you dont rly have to have seen it lol

ok so i know i havent finished tozier but i just recently rewatched this movie and figured i’d write the prologue for this planed series n post it <3

[losers + reader have just graduated college in this. ]

2.3k words

♡

it’s after graduation '92 when y/n y/l/n first meets richard tozier.

the trees are turning red and crusting off the tips of branches, the bitter cold of the university whipping around your car even though it's supposed to be nearing the end of spring. you're sitting awkwardly now, with your window cranked down, eyes glued to the couple at the edge of the sidewalk. they're entagled with each other enough that all you can make out is wild dark and curly hair, a sharp jawline, and the girl’s blonde hair gathered in a fist of the mysterious boy. but you'd notice your friend amanda anywhere, even if her back is turned and face occupied with another’s.

you clear your throat, but they ignore you, the boy whose hands are wrapped around her waist tilting her jaw to kiss her even deeper. "i love you." she whispers. you feel awkward, and roll your eyes. it's still seconds later and so you clear your throat, muttering, "amanda."

she jumps apart from the boy. "oh, hi y/n. um, y/n, this is richie tozier. richie, this is y/n y/l/n."

you lock eyes with the boy, who's got a smirk on his lips as he wipes his mouth. you watch as amanda's lip gloss rubs off his bright red lips, "nice to meet you, y/n."

you nod back at him, antsy to start driving and nervous for some reason. "hi. you want to drive the first shift?"

he laughs slightly, shaking his head as his wild dark curls bounce around. he’s devastatingly handsome, and you’re not surprised amanda loves him so much. he pulls his crewneck's sleeves over his hands and shrugs, "no, you're there already, you can start if that works." you nod, slightly put off, but shrugging it off.

"okay. the back's open." you watch awkwardly as the boy lifts his belongings into the space in your trunk, amanda coming up and hugging his tall, skinny frame. "please call me." she whispers. he nods and you watch from the rearview mirror, "call you as soon as we get there, baby." he says. your friend amanda whines, "oh, please call me from the road. " the boy, richie, cracks a charming grin, "i'll call you before that."

almost gagging, you turn your attention to the radio and fiddle it, waiting for richie and amanda to finish making out against the back of your car.

it's awkward once you start driving, richie tapping his long fingers against his knee as you stare at the road ahead of you. you clear your throat, "i have it all figured out. it's an eighteen hour trip, which breaks down into six shifts of three hours each. or, alternatively, we could break it down by mileage-" but while you're speaking, richie's leaning to fiddle around with a bag in the back. you blink, "er, there's a...there's a map on the... visor that i've marked to show the locations so we can change shifts."

richie barely hums and crunches on something, making you turn to look at him. he lifts his brows, "grapes?"

you lift a brow, "n-no. i don't like to eat between meals." you say, eyes going between him and the road, where he spits out the grape seeds. "alright, y/n. why don't you tell me the story of your life." his sentence makes you do a double-take and you almost laugh.

when he sees your bewildered expression, he shrugs, "we've got eighteen hours to kill before we hit new york."

shaking your head, "the story of my life won't even get us out of chicago." that makes him laugh, a sound that was shockingly unexpected as it cuts through the stale air of your car. a light, excited and shocked laugh that makes you smile as you watch the road, your eyes stealing a glance at the abrupt and disheveled boy lounging in the passenger seat.

it's four hours later, and richie's convinced you to pull into a small diner on the side of the road. "-you're wrong." you shake your head as you enter the lot. "i'm not wrong, he wants her to leave! that's why he puts her on the plane." richie insists. you shake your head, "no, i don't think she wants to stay."you insist. richie rolls his eyes at you, "of course she wants to stay. wouldn't you rather be with humphrey bogart than the other guy?"

you shrug, "i don't want to spend the rest of my life in casablanca married to a man who runs a bar. i probably sound very snobbish to you, but i don't.”

richie looks shocked and annoyed, slamming the car door shut to catch up to you as you walk towards the front doors. "you'd rather be in a passionless marriage." you nod, "well, yeah, and be the first lady of czechoslovakia."

"really? that rather than live with the man you've had the greatest sex of your life with, and just because he owns a bar and that is all he does."

you glare at him, "ingrid bergman is sensible, okay? that's why she gets on the plane at the end of the movie. she knows better, just like i do."

as a waitress takes you to a booth, richie hums behind you with amusement laced into his voice. "ohh, okay. okay. i understand now." you look at him, "what?" but he shakes his head. "nothing." "tell me." "no. forget about it." "forget about what? tell me." you insist. richie's pushing up his glasses and staring at the menu, grinning. "it's not important." "-just tell me!" you hiss. richie pushes his menu down and looks at you cockily. "obviously you haven't had great sex yet."

you blink, staring at him in shock. this stranger, who you met hours ago, is telling you that you haven't had good sex yet? you scowl, "yes i have." you snap.

he laughs, looking at the menu still. "no you haven't."

you accidentally project your next words loudly, "it just so happens that i have had plenty of good sex."

it goes silent at the diner, all the eyes on you. the waiters and workers stare, the other patrons watching with wide eyes as richie just grins at you. you feel yourself go red with embarrassment. what is it about this kid that gets you so mad?

richie seems unphased. "well, with who?" he asks. you mutter, "whom." to correct him, and so he folds his hands and tries again, "with whom are you having this fantastic sex?" "i'm not telling you that." "fine, don't tell me." richie says with a shrug, reading over the menu once again. you study his face, the light smirk that seems to be plastered onto his lips permanently; the freckles over his cheeks, forehead and nose. something about him makes you feel like you have to prove yourself. "shel gordon." you say after a moment.

"shel? sheldon?" he asks, eyes dark blue as they lock with yours. he laughs, "no, no, you didn't have great sex with sheldon."

"fuck you." you spit. he's still chuckling as he says, "no, no. sheldon can do your income taxes. if you need a root canal, sheldon's your man. but humping and pumping is not sheldon's strong suit." you wrinkle your nose at his vulgar language. "it's the name. 'do it to me sheldon, oh, you're an animal 'sheldon.' it doesn't work." he says, moaning loudly and making you red. you swat him and he laughs.

you're furious, but the waitress shows up and asks for your orders. "hiya doll, i'll have the number three, please." richie orders. the waitress looks at you. you smile, "i'd like the chef salad please with the oil and vinegar on the side and the apple pie a la mode. but if possible, i'd like the pie heated and i don't want the ice cream on top i want it on the side. and i'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it? if not then no ice cream, just whipped cream - but only if it's real. if it's out of a can then nothing."

the waitress looks at you and you can feel richie's eyes on you in the silence following your order. "not even the pie?" she asks, while writing. you shake your head, "no, just the pie, but then not heated.” she looks at you slightly but nods, "noted, coming right up."

you look at richie, "what?" you ask as he stares at you. he shakes his head, "nothing, nothing. so how come you broke up with this sheldon?" he asks.

you stare at him, irritated and regretting agreeing to this road trip. "how you know we broke up?" you say. richie grins, "because if you didn't break up, you wouldn't be here with me, you'd be off boning with sheldon the wonder-schlong." "richie."

the next moment you know you shouldn't have agreed to this is an hour later, back on the road. you can feel richie's eyes burning into your head, so you stop singing.

"you should probably keep your eyes on the road." you suggest lightly, making the boy crack a smirk. "you're a very attractive person." he says earnestly. you look back down to the map in your hands, "thank you."

"amanda never said how attractive you were." richie says, as if he's just saying whatever he's thinking. "well maybe she doesn't think i'm attractive." you say with a shrug.

richie hums,"i don't think it's a matter of opinion," you can't help the butterflies in your chest at the compliment. "y'know, like...empirically you're attractive."

you frown, distrustful that richie's being so flirty with his girlfriend's friend. "amanda is my friend." you say.

richie looks at you with a tilt of the head, "yeah, so?" "-so, you're going with her." "so?" you scowl, "so you're coming on to me!"

richie's eyebrows shoot up and he looks defensive, "no i wasn't- what?" you're unimpressed, eyes widening and jaw dropping. this boy is full of shit, and the smirk on his face proves it. you don't think you're much of a big fan of this richie kid.

"can't a man say a woman is attractive without it being a come-on?" he asks with a blindingly charming smile that makes you glare. "-alright, alright, let's just say just for the sake of argument that it was a come-on. what do you want me to do about it? i take it back, okay? i take it back."

you cross your arms, staring out the window. "you can't take it back." richie groans, "why not?" "because it's already out there." "oh god, what are we suppose to do, call the cops? it's already out there!" he yelps, swerving on the road and making you grip your seat. "just let it lie, okay?" you say, annoyed. "great! let it lie. that's my policy. that's what i always say, let it lie." richie mutters, and you shoot him a glance before looking back at the rolling greenery outside the window. it's quiet for a moment, then, "wanna spend the night at a motel?"

your jaw drops, richie beating you to speaking as he laughs at your reaction. he finds it so funny, but all you do is glare. asshole. "see what i did? i didn't let it lie." "richie." you say. "i said i wouldn't and i didn't." he adds. "richie."

"in fact, i went the other way, i-" you cut richie off, "richie!" he looks at you, "what?" you shake your head, huffing. "we're just going to be friends, okay?"

"fine by me. friends, it's the best thing. " he says.

it's silent for ten more minutes, and you almost get to sleep until you're jolted awake by a voice you've been forced to listen two for six hours straight. "-you realize, of course, that we can never be friends."

his words, while irritating beyond belief, do capture your attention. "and why not?" you say.

he swallows. "what I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

its silent for a second as you take in the stupidity of his words. "jesus, richie. that's not true, i have a number of men friends and there's no sex involved.”

“no you don't.” he says matter-of-factly. you scowl, "yes i do.”

“no you don't.” “yes i do.” "you only think you do.”

"you're saying i'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?" you sass, rolling your eyes so hard it hurts. richie huffs a short laugh, "no, what i'm saying is they all want to have sex with you."

you wrinkle your nose. "they do not. that's really disgusting." "maybe it is, but it’s true." "they do not!" you insist, turning in your seat to stare at him. "do too." your jaw goes slack and you narrow your eyes, "how do you know?"

"because. no man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive - he always wants to have sex with her."

you feel like punching him in the face. "so you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive." you say, feeling disgusted by his sexism. "we- uh, you pretty much wanna nail 'em too."

you groan, "well what if the women don't want to have sex with you?" you say. "well, sure. but it's still ruined because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that’s the end of the story. men are very stupid and painfully simple creatures."

"well i guess we're not going to be friends then." you snap, turning to look back out the window. he's such a fucking douche, you can't believe you're trapped in this car with him for ten more hours.

"guess not." he mutters.

you sigh, "that's too bad. you're the only person i knew in new york."

you slept for eight of the ten hours left, and when you’re unloading richie's luggage from your car in front of a small apartment, he nudges you slightly. you look up at him as he towers above you, raising a brow. you hate to admit it, but this asshole is awfully cute when he’s not being the devil.

"thanks for the ride." he says with a soft smile.

you nod, "yeah, it was... interesting." you say. he smiles, "it was nice knowing you." he offers his hand out to you, and you grip it, his hand warm and rough in yours. "yeah." is all you can say.

richie steps away, grabbing his things. "well... have a nice life." you say as you get back into the car.

"you too, y/n."

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @diegos-knives @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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their-name-is-morgan · 4 years

Note

*hugs* Hello Hello~! Buongiorno~! It makes me so happy to finally see you again! I hope you're doing good. If it's VA characters requests you want, then may I ask for some Doppio relationship hcs?

Buonasera! Your words made me really happy <3 you told me I could turn this into a scenario, so I described what some of the moments you spend with Doppio would be like; I hope that’s ok! I also had a lot of fun writing this, so enjoy <3

Slice of Life (Doppio x Reader)

You and Doppio share an apartment in Sicily, a beautiful Italian island surrounded by crystal clear water.

When you met each other one day, during a relaxing morning stroll on the seafront, you never would’ve imagined that the man who stopped you from stepping on a grasshopper was destined to become your best friend, boyfriend and then fiancé.

And yet here you are, with your favourite apron on and your hair tied back, trying to bake a cake with the help of your soon-to-be husband, Doppio Vinegar, who is an absolute mess in the kitchen:

“Okay, do we have the four eggs we need?” you ask.

“Yes!” he points at the eggs on the counter.

“And what about the vegetable oil?”

“Um...” he looks through all the ingredients and lifts up a bottle filled with yellow liquid: “It’s here!”

“That looks terrible...” you can’t help but comment, examining it from up close.

“It kind of looks like someone peed in it.” Doppio adds, shaking the bottle.

“That’s gross, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that!”

You both share a laugh and then go back to going through the ingredients, just to make sure that you have everything in advance. You wouldn’t want to have to take a trip to the grocery store in the middle of your little baking session.

Once you can confirm that you have everything you need, you finally start with taking out all the pots and pans from the oven to heat it, since it shouldn’t take long to prepare the rest. While you’re dealing with that you address Doppio;

“Can you spray the butter in the pan?” you ask him handing it to him.

He takes it and looks for the butter sprayer:

“Sure! I can handle it.”

“I would hope so.” You say with a grin. His freckled cheeks tint a pretty pink and he stutters.

“Hey! Speak for yourself. I managed to live on my own for years, I’m not that bad at this.”

“Suuure.”

Once you’re both done with your tasks you stand next to him at the counter and place a large bowl in front of you. This is the part your fiancé always messes up when he tries to bake on his own: he puts too much sugar or water in the mixture, doesn’t whisk enough, reads the recipe wrong and throws in less or more eggs than needed, but this time you’re going to make a tasty cake no matter what.

“Okay Doppio, are you ready?”

“I am; are you though?”

He returns the question. You know the reason behind that mischievous grin; when you bake he can’t help but start at least one food war.

“...I may be. But! Pass me the cake mix.”

He does as you say without question; he then goes on to hand you the eggs, the fudge brownie mix, a cup of measured water and one of vegetable oil.

You throw everything in the bowl –you break two eggs each and he needs help with it or else he’ll make a mess- and it’s your turn to hand him something: a whisk.

“You know what you have to do, don’t you?”

“Whisk for a couple of minutes until all the lumps are gone?”

“Yes! And don’t mess it up, Tiziano and Squalo are coming over tonight and I don’t want them to feel sick from eating this cake.” You warn him. He raises and eyebrow;

“Can they feel sick because of a few lumps though?”

You wave him off and turn around to start preparing the whipping cream for later.

“No, but let me be a bit dramatic!”

Once the batter has been deposited in the pan and put in the oven and the whipped cream is ready to be poured on the brownie cake, you can finally rest until it’s time to let everything cool down until the evening comes.

You start cleaning the kitchen up but you notice with the corner of your eye that Doppio is rummaging through the cupboards. You’re about to ask him what in the world he’s doing when he sticks his hand in a sack and throws whatever is in it in your direction.

It takes you a second to realize that the thing he just attacked you with is flour, and when you do you’re fuming.

“What the-! Was it necessary?!” you try to get it off of your hair as he covers his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Sorry! We didn’t use it, so it felt wrong.”

“It felt wrong to not make a mess?”

He looks at your expression and immediately starts feeling a bit guilty, so he steps towards you to help you clean up, but you quickly grab the flour sack and pour all of it on the top of his head, making him cough like crazy.

“Whyyy?! I didn’t pour this much on you!” he whines, but you don’t listen to him and rub his cheeks to spread it even better on his whole face.

“Well, you started it so you deserve it!”

“Okay, okay, that’s fair! Now get off of me!”

You both laugh and you let go of him, taking a few step back to admire your masterpiece: his hair is all over the place and all white, just like his face. Some flour got on his clothes as well, luckily you’re both wearing comfy things that you were planning change out of later.

“Now I have to take a shower before they get here!” he complains, pouting like a child.

“Ew, are you telling me you wouldn’t have taken one if it wasn’t for the flour?” you mock him and he throws some of the flour that got caught in his hair at you, making you giggle and try to run away from him.

“That’s not what I meant!”

During these two years of living with Doppio, you’ve learned that yes, he may be clumsy and messy and a little bit too clingy sometimes, but surprisingly enough he can also be a real gentleman when he wants to.

It’s yet another day and even if the weather forecast said it was going to be sunny, it’s already pouring before you can even step inside of your apartment building. Walking home from work wasn’t the best idea after all...

Luckily you always keep a small umbrella in your bag, so you open it and quicken your pace to get home as soon as possible. All you want right now is to take a relaxing bath and then have dinner on the couch, possibly while catching up on that TV series everyone recommended to you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that the loud ringing of your phone startles you; you pick it up immediately when you realize it’s Doppio calling you.

“Doppio? Why are you calling me? I’m almost home-“

“Where are you?”

“...In front of the convenience store we always go to, why?”

“Wait for me there, I’m already driving so I’m coming to pick you up!”

You slightly frown at his words:

“You’re on the phone while you’re driving and it’s raining? Doppio what the-!!“

He closes the call with a small ‘love you’ before you can even finish. You’re a bit annoyed at your fiancé because he’s always so careless no matter what, some may even say he’s stupid, but you can’t deny you appreciate the effort, so you sit under the roof outside of the store and wait for him.

He arrives not even five minutes later, and gets as close as possible to where you’re sitting so you don’t have to risk getting wet while trying to reach the car.

“Did you seriously call me while you were driving?” you ask him fastening your seatbelt, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. He lets out a nervous chuckle.

“You see... I decided to come pick you up, but I realized I had no idea where you were when I was already driving.”

“That’s not an excuse, you could’ve parked somewhere! You’re such an idiot sometimes...”

“Would I still be an idiot if I ordered some food and prepared a bath for you at home?”

You immediately stop complaining and stare at him in disbelief instead: he did all of that for you? And without even knowing you had a stressful day at work... he just wanted to treat you well. You do your best to avoid making him go off-road as you grab his face to kiss him all over his cheek.

As soon as you get home you happily find out that the water in the bathtub is still warm, so the first thing you do is taking a relaxing bath –Doppio even placed some scented candles here and there to make the atmosphere nicer-.

Meanwhile your fiancé prepares everything for your TV series marathon: he gathers all the blankets he can find, places the takeout food on the coffee table in front of the couch, turns on Netflix and makes sure all the blinds and windows are closed, so you don’t have to get up and deal with that if the weather gets worse.

You get out of the bathroom fully dressed in your comfiest pyjama, and smile when you notice he changed into his too: apparently he took a shower before your shift ended and he came to pick you up.

“Doppio.”

He’s sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. His hair is down and slightly messy.

“Yes, amore?”

“Sorry for calling you an idiot earlier, you’re the best person on this planet.”

You sit beside him and grab your own blanket and a slice of pizza; as a response he leans over to kiss your forehead, making your cheeks tint pink.

He grabs the remote and selects the TV series you were planning to watch but, as soon as the opening starts playing, he gets up with a start, making you jump as well.

“Wait!! I forgot to go to the bathroom before starting. Wouldn’t want to pause an episode because of that!”

Diavolo is Doppio’s boss and one of his dearest friends; or is he one of his relatives? You’re not that sure, the last time he brought that up was years ago and it was when you weren’t listening, so you didn’t understand, but you were too awkward to ask him to say it again at the time, so you continue living in ignorance to this day when it comes to that.

But what matters is that he often asks you how you even managed to get engaged with that scatterbrained man. You’d never tell him this, but you are sure why he never managed to even get a girlfriend- at least Doppio is a bit romantic!

“What’s with that face?” Diavolo asks you, tapping his manicured fingers on the surface of the small table you’re sitting at. You’re in a gelateria at the moment, waiting for your “waiter” to bring you your ice creams.

“It’s just! You ask that all the time! And I always tell you that I just do. You should try living with him for a day or two to understand.”

“And be his boyfriend as well I assume.”

“Yeah, that too. I guess he kind of just...”

The deep conversation between you and the well dressed man is interrupted by a loud scream that makes everyone’s heads turn towards the cash register.

There he stands, your “waiter” and soon-to-be husband, with his face all red because he probably didn’t mean to catch that much attention. But he still stares at you from across the room:

“(Y/N)...! Which flavours did you want again?!”

You’re embarrassed to say the least, and yet you can’t help but smile. You answer him before turning your head towards Diavolo again.

“...he kind of just makes every day of my life more exciting.”

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #doppio x reader #doppio vinegar x reader #jjba x reader #x reader #doppio vinegar #vento aureo

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akaashisupremacy · 4 years

Text

Connecting Flights w/Iwa

Summary: On Hajime Iwaizumi’s flight back to Japan, he meets an unexpected friend from his past who is a little hung up on someone else.

Iwaizumi x fem!reader/Oc || Read it on A03

Genre : romance, friends to lovers (wc: 2.2k)

Notes: Hiromi Miura is an original character, but readers are free to put themselves into her shoes! Coming of age fics are fun to write but I wanted to explore a world centered around adulthood that included a work life outside one’s significant other. Hope you can give me feedback on whatever world-building I’ve done. Successive chapters will def have more Iwa.

Hiromi Miura packed the last of her toiletries into her large black check-in luggage. Rolling the luggage out into the hallway, she checked her phone for the third time in ten minutes. Her boss, Hayate Hoshizora stood in the hallway waiting for her with her own luggage standing beside her.

“Where’s Tsuchida?” she asked.

Itsumi Tsuchida was the third member of their team of three and Hiromi’s room mate for the trip. She handled production and logistics so Hiromi and Hayate could write and shoot their articles on food history without worry. Despite her astounding efficiency with her work, Itsumi had a habit of being late.

“Itsumi is almost out. She’ll be here in a minute.” said Hiromi.

The three checked out of the small business hotel before going their separate ways for their last minute shopping. Hiromi wanted to window shop for shoes and cosmetics while Hayate set out to buy some omiyage for her family. Itsumi offered to accompany Hiromi on the condition they stop by for milk tea.

“Let’s meet outside of Time Square before 12 for lunch. I’m going to buy some jerky and maybe some dried goods. Do you guys want anything?” asked Hayate before they set off.

Hiromi declined. Itsumi asked for some jerky for her own omiyage.

As the two junior members of Hayate’s team entered Time Square, Itsumi noticed Hiromi was checking her phone again. She had been doing so whenever she could during the trip.

“Still no texts from Eita?” she asked Hiromi.

“Nope,” sighed Hiromi. Everything had been going smoothly just last week. She had been texting consistently with Eita. He even offered to call. She would send him photos of their first day in Hong Kong and he would eagerly reply.

Come the day before yesterday, he stopped replying all of a sudden. Hiromi had begun to worry that things had fallen apart without knowing why. Their last conversation was on Hong Kong protests. Eita fumed against the injustice, Hiromi agreed with him and nothing came after that. Maybe he joined the resistance?

“I don’t know what went wrong. I thought he liked me.” she moaned, “We have similar political views. Maybe I wasn’t enthusiastic enough when I replied to his call for justice or something.”

“Maybe you should just ask him about it.” Itsumi suggested, rolling her eyes.

“He ignored me for two days what else is there to say?”

“So why are you still looking at your phone?” Itsumi asked, with her brow raised at her co-worker, “Come, let’s go shopping to keep your mind off things.”

————————————————————————————

Hiromi and Itsumi had a penchant for hole in the wall restaurants. For their last meal, they asked to eat at a restaurant at the back of Time Square, nestled between narrow shopping alleyways. It was the first restaurant they ate in upon arrival and it would be their last meal too. They both ordered a bowl of wonton noodle soup and a serving of bok choy shared between the three of them. Hayate ordered chicken noodle soup for herself.

The restaurant was small and narrow, not to mention humid from all the steaming and the boiling from the kitchen. Although the lunchtime service was quick and brash, the two did not seem to mind. The girls were well-travelled and cosmopolitan. They were used to environments different from the quiet efficiency of Japan. Hayate found it chaotic but the team did not get many out of country assignments so she took what she could.

Hiromi in particular specialized in writing about Southeast Asian diasporic (meaning a scattered population whose origin lies in a separate geographic locale) cuisine. Noise hardly fazed her but apparently boy problems did.

“Hiromi, you looked so forlorn. Are you really that sad about leaving Hong Kong?” she joked. Hiromi’s focus in her work was second to none. Her tolerance to mediocre young men, less so.

“There’s a boy who hasn't been texting back…” trailed Itsumi.

Hayate didn’t pry, but the girls opened up to her for just about anything.

“Oh, hmmm don’t overthink it.” she said.

“It’s ok, I mean he’s smart and artistic and he knows my friends, but I guess I wasn’t interesting enough.” wailed Hiromi in between bites of her noodles.

“Honestly, if he can’t be bothered to speak with you clearly, he doesn’t deserve your time.” said Hayate, sipping her scorching hot red tea burning a bit of throat in the process. Her eyes grew wide as her throat grew numb.

“That’s true, besides I feel like you’re more worried about why he doesn’t like you than the actual relationship.” sighed Itsumi, mixing some soy sauce, chili oil and black vinegar for their wonton dip.

“Enough moping, let’s eat and talk about something else.” exhaled Hiromi, raising her hand to call for cold water for Hayate.

The topic shifted to work. They were excited about editing the photos. Hayate couldn’t wait to unpack but was a little sad about going back to the office again. Itsumi dreaded doing the liquidation and desk work for their Hong Kong trip. Hiromi was buzzing with ideas for their next assignment and was hoping to pitch recipe ideas to the cooking staff at their next meeting.

Just before boarding, a familiar figure caught Hiromi’s eye. A tall, tanned boy with a lean muscular physique stood a few rows in front of her. He was wearing a white shirt and black athleisure pants. Iwaizumi from college?

The three were seated separately on the plane. Hiromi was seated near the back while Hayate and Itsumi were on the second row. As she got to her seat, Hiromi was surprised to find Hajime Iawizumi beside her, blinking sleepily at the seat in front of him.

“Miura-san!” he said in incredulity realizing that his college friend was right beside him in his Hong Kong layover.

“Iwa! It is you! I thought I saw you while we boarded.” she said, shoving her carry on onto the storage, “Also, do you really have to be so formal?”

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“What are you doing in Hong Kong?” she asked simultaneously.

“I just finished my time in LA. I’m moving back to Japan. This is my last layover.” he yawned, popping a breath-mint into his mouth.

“I work as a food writer and researcher for a publication in Tokyo. My team and I are just finishing up our assignment in Hong Kong. We get out of country assignments from time to time. I’m still kind of new, but when I become a veteran I’m hoping to get more regular trips.”

“Cool! I’m moving to Tokyo next week because I got a gig training members of a Division 1 Volleyball League! This week, I’ll be home to do some laundry and just get things in order.” he said.

“If you need help moving or settling in let me know. I moved to Tokyo just last year.” she offered, “It was crazy.”

Iwaizumi nodded and thanked her for her offer. They continued catching up as the plane took off and soon the stewardess began handing out food.

“I’m so tired of plane food. It’s all I’ve eaten in the past twenty four hours,” he sighed.

“This has definitely got nothing on everything I’ve eaten so far” she exhaled, “I can’t wait to go home, even my own cooking is better than this. I got lots of new recipe ideas to try too.”

“I thought you said you were a writer. Do they make you cook at work too?” he inquired. It seemed like her job required an awful lot of skills for one position.

“I can cook to some capacity. I don’t really cook at work, it just helps if I know how.” she waved.

They ate in silence, chewing through the mediocre airline food.

“By the way, I need some boy advice. Do you have space to hear me out?” she inhaled, gathering her courage before she unloaded her questions on her friend.

“Sure? What about it?” he shrugged.

Hiromi opened up about her latest romance and its frustrations. She gave him a bit of background on who he was and how they started the relationship particularly the wishy washy feelings about their courtship.

“Do you really like this guy? You’re having more questions and doubts than answers. That’s not really a good sign. You can go ahead and be upfront but is this guy worth it?” he asked thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. I want to give it a chance but each time I think about him I get more confused and anxious.” she sighed, putting down her utensils. She bumped her head against the chair in front of her.

“He also hasn’t texted back in a few days without saying why.” she promptly added, looking to him. Iwa jerked back, his arms in a flurry.

“Scratch what I said. I don’t think the relationship is going to work. It’s not serious enough for him if he can’t at least let you know why he goes off the grid.”

Her face fell, shoulders sinking into her back.

“Sorry,” apologised Iwa, pausing to empathize with her.

“I kind of already know this and I guess I just hate uncertainty suspense. I don’t know why I feel so affected to hear it out loud.” she groaned, massaging her temples. Iwa was not good at hearing about boy problems. He didn’t really know what to say.

“Why’d you go for him anyway?” he asked, thoughtfully chewing some eggs and shifting in his seat. The seat was obviously a bit narrow for his shoulders. Hiromi moved a bit to her right to allow him more space.

Her poster straightened up while she plopped her elbows onto the table. She clasped her hands together and thought for a bit before turning to him, her eyes wide and a tad bit glassy.

“He just ticked the boxes you know? I knew him from college and we understand the other worlds we worked in. He’s smart, artistic and apparently he’s been crushing on me since freshman year or something like that. I wasn’t seeing anyone so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“But why are you adamant to make it work is what I mean?”

Hiromi shrugged her shoulders, “I can’t help but feel like it reflects on me. I feel like I’m not worthy enough when I can’t make a relationship work with someone who ticks the boxes.”

“I really hate dating and letting someone have this much control over my emotions though.” she growled at the chair in front of her.

Iwa had a small smile to himself, glad he was not in her place. She had always been the one better at giving advice when they were in uni together. He wished he could return the favor.

Before he got together with his college girlfriend, he was swimming in a lot of doubts about himself. It was difficult for him to speak about just anyone, but Hiromi was one of few who could coax the subject out of him.

“So how are you two getting on?” Hirom had asked him.

They were sitting together in the school cafeteria for lunch. Usually they sat with common friends and some classmates, but today they were alone which meant she could pry on Iwa’s love life. Even when Iwa wanted to talk about his girl problems, he had difficulty opening up. She saw it as her mission to initiate the conversation to help him out.

Iwa scratched the back of his head and sighed, “I don’t really know how I could be a better replacement for her ex. I’m not her first anything. I’m not any more good looking, or smarter or more athletic than he was. I’m not even nicer. I really don’t know if I’m worth the shot.”

His brow furrowed in concern. His lips were midway between a pout and a scowl.

She choked on her lunch. More often than not, it was Iwa encouraging other people and giving square judgement. Iwa was by no means arrogant, but he was also not self-deprecating. Hearing him speak about himself this so despondently was out of his character.

“Iwa, dating is not a competition!” she managed to say while pounding on her chest. Iwa handed her some water.

“I guess…” he mumbled.

After slugging down some water, Hiromi composed herself, “Yeah, her ex may have been great, but you’re great too! She likes you now which is why even if her ex is still in some of her friend circles she’d still rather date you.”

Iwa perked up a bit and smiled at his food.

“Just because you’re not her first doesn’t mean you can’t have a meaningful relationship right? What’s this obsession with being first? It’s not added value.” she said thoughtfully, putting her face between her hands as she leaned into her tray.

That lunch seemed so long ago. Who would’ve known that their next lunch after college would be a plane in between Hong Kong and Tokyo?

“Hey, are you still using the same email? Let’s keep in touch when we get back. I’m holding you by your promise to show me around.” he grinned, handing her his phone.

She continued sulking in half-hearted despair at the seat in front of her while she took his phone.

“Cheer up! I’m sure you’ll find someone in Tokyo.” he added, settling himself back into his chair looking at her.

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @scrappydaisies @itstheee-ha-chan

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq iwaizumi #hq writing #haikyuu fanfic #hq fic #hq fics #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x me #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic

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edgewaterfarmcsa · 3 years

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CSA WEEK 10

P I C K L I S T

KALE - CHERRY TOMATOES - PLUM TOMATO - MELON - LEMONGRASS - THAI BASIL -

JALAPENOS - SCALLIONS - HAKURAI TURNIPS OR DAIKON RADISH -

BELL PEPPER - LEMON CUKE - SLICING CUKE - ZINNIAS!!!!

The New England growing season is terribly short (June-October). We break up this tiny passage of time into short bursts we call seasons: strawberry season (5ish weeks), blueberry season (3ish weeks), melon season (JUST GETTING STARTED WOOT WOOT!!), etc… These fruit bursts force you to show up and give all you got because the harvest is so fleeting and nothing during any other time of year compares to the season that you are currently in. As we combine melon season with the entrance of tomato season, we simultaneously welcome in the real muscle season: canning season. August is this wild month where everything (all the crops) catch up and suddenly you are hit with this pain in your gut that SUMMER IS SHORT and SUMMER IS ALMOST OVER and holy shit, it's time to savor every bit of it and figure out ways to bottle up the sun. So, I turn to processing veg (can/pickle/ferment/freeze) as a coping mechanism to battle the inevitable change to Fall. Also, canning is pretty fun and deeply satisfying and mostly delicious (however there is the occasional science fair experiment gone wrong). From here on out, with every CSA that comes and goes, I will try my best to provide one item in bulk(ish) that will beg you to be processed, so you too, can take summer with you into the cold dark months ahead (i hate winter).

But before we go into pro-tips and how exactly you are going to deal with all those jalapenos- I need to tell y'all about this extremely productive and joyful experience that occurred weekly alongside the CSA Summer Harvest: enter, Kayleigh season. Kayleigh worked at the farm years prior, but we never connected- she was slingin veg at the farmstand, and I was picking veg in the field. This year she approached us looking to get back to Edgewater and low and behold, I needed help. AND-SHE-SHOWED-UP. Yall, Kayleigh season lasted for 9 whole weeks and I am GRATEFUL for every single one. Working alongside Kayleigh is actual magic. Her work ethic is insane, her jokes slap, and while paying attention to every detail of every task, she is constantly looking ahead, reading my mind, and lightening the load. On top of all this, she glows and our convos flowed. My best connections and life changing conversations always happen during a full day outside- sunrise to sun up- in a field, during a harvest with someone great. She is someone great. Kayleigh season ends today. Next week she begins Nursing school and I’m so excited for her… (to take care of me when I'm in need of medical care jkjkjk).

All that said, so long Kayleigh season- a damn good season- all too fleeting, powerful, and so full of joy.

PRO TIPS:

This recipe is recommended by my dear friend Sam who is a master jalapeno pickler… He gives the following suggestions:

I would use less sugar

Also you can put the sliced jalapenos in the jar and just pour hot pickling liquid over it.

YIELD: 1 PINT SIZED JAR The BEST recipe for easy homemade pickled jalapenos from scratch! Fresh jalapeños pickled and jarred.

15 to 20 large jalapeños, sliced, stems discarded 2 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

1 cup distilled white vinegar 1 cup filtered water

4 tablespoons sugar (optional as it is for flavoring) 2 tablespoons kosher salt

In a medium sauce pan combine the garlic, water, vinegar, sugar and salt.

Heat to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt. Once at a boil; add the sliced jalapenos pressing them so they are submerged under the pickling liquids. Remove the pot off of the heat and let them sit for 10-15 minutes.

Use tongs to transfer the jalapenos into a clean jar. Ladle the pickling juices over top until you've reached the top of the jar. Let cool at room temperature before securing a lid and popping them into the fridge.

I personally would treat these as I would any opened jar of jalapenos. They should last a long while if kept refrigerated in the airtight jar.

**REVISED: I've found that 20 medium jalapenos will fill a quart size jar. I upped the water and vinegar to 1-1/4 cups each. Sugar and salt stayed the same.

*This is not a canning recipe therefore not shelf stable and will need to be kept refrigerated. With that said, I personally would treat these homemade pickled jalapeños as I would any opened jar of pickled produce in your fridge. They should last a long while if kept refrigerated in the airtight jar. Also, the spicy heat of the peppers should mellow out the longer they are in your fridge. If looking for canning instructions or directions, follow the USDA guidelines.

BY SHOSHI PARKS (bonapp)

As its name suggests, lemongrass is a grass with botanical origins that stretch across South and Southeast Asia, from India and Sri Lanka to Indonesia and the Philippines. Also called Malabar grass, Cochin grass, or fever grass among many other names, lemongrass (Cymbopogon citratus) grows in large bushy clumps. Its stalks are woody and pale green with bulbous lighter-colored bases that are somewhat reminiscent of green onions. Used whole, chopped, or pummeled into a paste, lemongrass adds a light but complex flavor and aroma—simultaneously lemony (hence the name), gingery, and floral—to sauces, soups, and meats.

In some parts of the world, lemongrass is also treasured for its health benefits. When brewed into a tea, the plant is considered an immunity-boosting treatment for a wide variety of ailments including gastrointestinal distress, fever, and asthma.

How can you use it? In South and Southeast Asian cooking, lemongrass commonly conspires with ingredients like garlic, galangal (and/or ginger), cilantro, Thai basil, shallots, lime leaves, and coconut milk to create bold, complex flavors.

To prepare lemongrass, start by peeling the stiff outer leaves away from the stalk to reveal the slightly softer underlayers. Slice the grass in two spots, about half an inch from the root and approximately three inches up, where the whitish color begins to turn green.

The pale lower section of the lemongrass is the meatiest bit. Even so, it must be sliced thin and then finely chopped, pounded into a paste with a mortar and pestle, grated with a box grater, or tossed in a food processor so that it isn’t too tough to chew. This is frequently how lemongrass is used in Cambodian cooking, Yun says, especially in the preparation of the spice paste kroeung.

Lemongrass is often finely chopped or pounded in order to break down the tough stalks.

Once minced or pounded, lemongrass can be added to marinades or grilled meats for a touch of sweet citrusy flavor or used to brighten curry pastes and simple sauces. Powdered lemongrass works here too. “Start with one teaspoon powder per lemongrass stalk, but be sure to taste as you go to make sure you’re getting that lemony-ginger bite,” Payumo advises.

And despite the fact that lemongrass isn’t traditionally used in recipes of Western origin, adding it to creamy pastas or homemade ice cream is an unexpected delight.

But while only the lower bulb of the lemongrass stem is edible, every portion of the stalk has a role to play in the kitchen. The fibrous upper section of the stalk is full of tons of lemony, gingery goodness. To release the flavorful oils, both Yun and Payumo like to bash or flatten the lemongrass stalk with a cleaver or the side of a large knife. Payumo will also sometimes bend the stalk back and forth a few times instead of smashing it to release the oils.

Fresh lemongrass stalks work best in dishes like soups and slow-roasted meats that simmer for long periods of time. In Filipino cuisine it’s commonly stuffed inside whole pigs or chickens and then roasted, Payumo says. Extensive simmering or roasting is also the best use for dry lemongrass, which rehydrates as it cooks. Like with bay leaves, remove the lemongrass stalks from the dish before serving.

Bruised, oil-rich lemongrass stalks work in the glass too. They not only make a mean cocktail stirrer, but they can also infuse spirits with almost no effort at all. Go ahead, throw a lemongrass stalk or two in a bottle of vodka and let it sit for a week before drinking. You won’t be sorry.

How should you store it? If you store it right, lemongrass will pretty much last forever. Wrapped loosely in a towel, the stalks will stay fresh and flavorful for a few weeks in the fridge. Otherwise, they’ll do just fine in the freezer, either uncut or pre-prepped. Try portioning minced, pounded, or grated grass into an empty ice tray for no-fuss future use. Dried and powdered lemongrass should be kept in sealed containers and out of the light.

Now go smash, slice, and pound away. You may not be getting to South or Southeast Asia this year, but with your new lemongrass skills, at least your culinary skills will permit you to imagine.

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gloriouskiaa · 3 years

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Tips on how to make hair silky naturally?

Thick, smooth and glossy hair is indicative of a perfectly healthy hair regimen. Everybody doesn't get born with silky hair. If you don't follow a good diet or use incompatible hair products with for your hair type, then your hair can become brittle and dry.

The moisture in your hair can decline with the stripping off of natural oils secreted by your scalp.

Do not worry; by inducing a few improvements listed below, you should be able to accentuate your hair's natural silkiness in no time.

How can I make my hair smooth and silky at home?

Given below are home-remedies containing all-natural ingredients that you can try. These remedies can, sooner than later, help you get the best results for your weather-beaten hair.

1. EGG Whites

Step 1: Whip 2 Egg Whites in a bowl with 1spoonful of olive oil and 2 Honey drops. Mix well.

Step 2: Spread the paste throughout your hair using a brush.

Step 3: Cover your hair for 20 minutes with a shower cap.

Step 4: Rinse off with water and a soft scented shampoo.

2. Coconut oil.

Step 1: In a cup, add 3 tablespoons Coconut oil and warm for some time.

Step 2: Rub warm oil on your scalp for nearly 15 minutes with your fingertips.

Step 3: Cover your hair for nearly 20 minutes with a shower cap.

Step 4: Wash off using cool water and a light shampoo.

3. Onion Juice

Step 1: Cut an onion and blend for removing its juice

Step 2: Stir well with 3 drops of Essential Lavender Oil next.

Step 3: Rub your scalp carefully with this treatment and leave it on for about 15 minutes.

Step 4: Rinse off using water and shampoo.

4. Apple Cider Vinegar (ACV)

Step 1: Dilute 2 cups of Apple Cider Vinegar in a bowl with 1 cup of water.

Step 2: Wash your hair as you normally do.

Step 3: Wash with your recently concocted Apple Cider Vinegar solution after the hair has been conditioned.

Step 4: Cover with a shower cap, so that your ACV solution can be kept dry for 15 minutes.

5. Olive oil

Step 1: Add three olive oil tablespoons to a bowl and heat until mildly warm.

Step 2: Rub warm oil on your scalp for 15 minutes with your fingertips.

Step 3: Cover the hair for 20 minutes with a shower cap.

Step 4: Wash off with cold water with a soft shampoo.

You can skip the hassle of preparing these home-remedies by simply buying Kiaa Republiks' Ultimate Anti-Hair Fall and Anti-Dandruff Regime - containing shampoo, conditioner and hair mask for nourishing dry hair to reduce split ends and frizz. The product combo contains almost all the ingredients listed above, and is suitable for both men and women!

How to make hair silky for men?

Nobody likes straw hair type, but a lot of hair care items sold for silky hair for women are used by men too. To get silky hair especially when you're a male, you'll need to comb out a gentle shampoo, natural conditioners and natural hair oil from the hair care aisle of a departmental store (or an e-commerce website). Plus, you'd need to wash your hair regularly but sparingly.

Although exact routines can differ with hair type and quality, it can really be very easy to get silky hair as long as you do it right.

Pick a mild shampoo: You have to keep your hair clean, but not too clean to strip off the scalp's nutrients. The natural oils in your hair help to keep your hair strong and stable but they can also attract dirt and make your hair filthy. You must coordinate between your hair washing routine and your hair type, so that a mild shampoo is an essential part of your cleansing ritual.

Try using natural shampoos to eliminate heavy chemical scents in mass-produced shampoos for men.

Even if you are not a child, kids or child shampoo will keep your hair silky very effectively with a minimal amount of toxic ingredients.

Also use a natural conditioner: One way to get silky hair, even though you don't wash your hair, is by conditioning it daily. Conditioner helps to improve hair tips, to keep each strand long and stable and to prevent split ends and issues with hair that can influence your hair texture.

Conditioner helps to improve hair tips, to keep each strand long and stable and to prevent split ends and issues with hair that can influence your hair texture. Just with a shampoo, check for an unnatural perfume and dyes in your conditioner. You can't avoid using a conditioner on your scalp if you have short hairstyles. To prevent the hair from being weighted down use a gentle or a volumizing conditioner.

How to make hair silky for women?

In this world, there is not one single woman who is forever content with her hair. Sure, some nice hair days are always around, but the operative term is 'some.' Such downers progressively play on your tresses due to sun exposure or excessive usage of hot hair appliances, until you eventually start noticing too much damage.

The good news is that you still need not to lose heart. You can read our well-tested home remedies below to know how you can get silky hair.

Frequently oil your hair: Do not wash your hair for at least 1 hour after oiling your hair. Any hair-free oil, such as coconut oil, olive oil, almond oil and argan oil can be used. The scalp becomes particularly good when massaged with a good-quality hair-oil oil. Apply hair oil only on strands and ends if you have an oily scalp, and prevent the hair's roots.

Use hair masks: Using hair masks once a week will help to preserve your hair with its natural oils. Apply each of the hair masks as mentioned below, keep it on for 1 hour, rinse with shampoo, and then apply a hair-conditioner.

Frequently use natural conditioners. After washing your hair, you can use the following ingredients as a conditioner:

Applesauce

Apple Cider Vinegar 4. Be mindful of the weather:In line with the season's requirements, you can choose to wash your hair per week. During the summer, particularly when sweat and dirt blocks your scalp and the roots of new hair follicles, you can wash your hair every alternate day. However, it is enough to wash twice a week during winters. Don't torture your hair with a harsh product instead of a mild shampoo and conditioner. Natural or homemade hair care items are safer to be used than pricey industrial products. 5. Battle the tangles: Brush your hair and remove the tangles carefully every morning. Next, massage your scalp for at least two-three minutes. Bend over and put your head upside down for a couple of minutes for better circulation of blood which also helps in boosting hair growth.

Some general Do's and Don'ts

Try various DIY hair masks to keep them healthy.

Your diet plays a major role in the wellbeing of your hair. So be sure to take good protein, rich foods for thick and shiny hair.

Practice meditation and yoga for relaxed hair, as stress and anxiety have been shown to cause hair loss.

Sleep enough each day to let your scalp and body rest well so that your hair looks good

If your hair is too dry, a reset in the form of a new cut could be required

Start picking up hair-building supplements

Add to your diet omega-3s and antioxidants.

Avoid daily hair wash.

Instead of wrapping your hair with a rough towel, try drying with a cotton shirt.

Heat styling reduction.

Try to take cold showers.

Use natural oils.

Can we make our hair silky permanently?

No magic trick can ensure the high quality and texture of your hair. In taking care of it, you must be consistent. Otherwise, it's pretty straightforward!

If your shampoo contains sulfates: SLS, SLES or Ammonium Laurel Sulfate (ALS), it could cause your hair to dry up. These are strong surfactants.

Massage 2–3 drops of argan oil in your hair after shampoo, if it is already dry.

Use a silk pillow cloth to wrap your hair after a wash, since your hair can get frizzier by using a towel.

Before you go to bed, braid your hair.

Wrapping Up

Improving your dry hair with home remedies is easy enough and risk-free. However, long-term hair loss and breakdown can be a symptom of other health problems. If you have all of these signs, talk to a dermatologist:

Falling of hair in clumps.

Bald spots or baldness cycles.

Hair breakage when brushed.

#hair #haircare #hairconditioner #hair care routine #hair care products #hair care #hairshampoo

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loudsuitlover · 4 years

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Doctor Harry XVIII.

A/N: Harry meets Indie’s mum. Indie’s mum meets Harry. Indie is no longer Indie.

INDIE’S POV

Harry and I lie on my bed as we both work on our laptops. He’s gathering some data from his patients’ record for some smart research of his and I’m trying to study Anaesthesiology. It’s very convenient to have him here really because he’s great at explaining and he kisses me after every explanation too.

I haven’t been keeping track of the time, so I didn’t know it was that late until my mum knocks on my door. I give Harry a terrified look but he just smiles and shrugs, letting me decide what to do with my Mum.

“¿Nena?” (Baby?)

“Sí.” (Yes.)

“¿Puedo pasar?” (Can I come in?)

“Eh… Sí, sí, pasa. Estoy con un amigo.” (Uh… Yes, yes, come on in. I’m with a guy friend.”

“Oh, is Jason with you?”

“No, no es Jason, mamá, pasa.” (No, it’s not Jason, mum, come on in.)

“Ah, ¿habla español?”

My mum finally opens the door and her dark eyes set on Harry and me on my bed. He’s sitting down with his back against my headboard and I’ve sat up next to him but there’s still lots of space between us. Nothings looks suspicious, especially for someone as innocent as my mum. She gives him a smile.

“No, no hablo español.” Harry says in a very awkward but very cute Spanish.

I give him an amused, surprised smile and he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, then.”

“No problem.” He smiles.

“I’m Alicia.”

My mum walks over to my bed and shakes Harry’s hand and I just stare at their interaction. This is so awkward. I’m going to kill her.

“I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.” She smiles. “Are you staying over for dinner? I just came to ask you what you wanted for dinner and to say hi” she giggles “but I didn’t know you had visit, nena.”

Harry’s eyes set on me as if he was asking for permission. I don’t like that. I guess he’s just sending me an SOS because I don’t think he’s going to want to stay over and have dinner with the Fernandez girls but I like it when he’s his own person and takes his own decisions so I raise my eyebrows.

“Do you want to stay over for dinner?” I ask him.

“If you’re inviting me, then yes.”

“Of course she’s inviting you!” My mum horrifies.

She’s probably freaking out at how blunt I was to Harry. If she knew… Harry grins. There he is, he’s amused with this. He’s probably going to make fun of me for this dinner for ages.

“No se hable más. I’m cooking Spanish food” My mum giggles excitedly and I smile amused. “How do you feel about corvina con esparrágos trigeros?” She asks me for Harry doesn’t understand her.

I nod.

“Ask him.” My mum tells me. “I don’t remember how you say esparrágos trigeros… He pasado demasiado tiempo en España esta vez… Y dile que son españoles, ¿eh? Que son de tu abuelo.” She smiles.

“She asks if you feel like having Spanish wild asparagus.” I smile amused.

This is so Spanish and Harry is so British. I imagine him on my abuelos’ country house and can’t help but smile. They couldn’t talk to one another for my Abuelos don’t speak any English and he’d probably struggle to even introduce himself.

“They’re from my grandpa’s vegetable garden back in Spain.”

“I would love that. Grasias.” He adorably says.

My mum and I both giggle like smitten teenagers before she leaves and Harry gives her a charming smile. We keep silently working until about 45 minutes later, my Mum texts me that dinner is ready.

Harry smiles amused as we make our way downstairs.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you we’re just friends.”

He chuckles.

“Yes, friends who sleep with each other.”

“See? That’s the part my mum is not interested in.”

He smiles.

“Are you afraid I’m going to embarrass you?” He half jokes.

I think I am.

“No, I’m afraid my mum will.”

“I can’t wait for this to begin. Do you think she’ll show me your baby pictures?”

“Just friends.” I point a finger at him right before we make our presence known on the dining table.

Coco is setting empty wine glasses on the table. Oh, boy, she’s going all out. I really hope she at least hasn’t changed her clothes and appears with a red carpet dress and a hairdresser’s bun… She didn’t, thank God.

“Please, take a seat.” She tells us as she sets the corvina on the table.

It reminds me of the gilt-head bream I tried to cook for dinner the other night before Harry and I ended up having sex on my couch and my fish ended up burnt and the bits I could save part of Coco’s salad the next day. She didn’t mention how dry it was, but that was probably because of the amount of olive oil and vinegar I used to season it.

“This smells delicious.” Harry compliments my mum’s cooking playing Prince Charming and she smiles.

Good try, but my Mum already knows she’s a great cook. Still, it was polite.

“Hi, Coco. How are you?”

“Hi, Harry. I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

My mum sits down next to Coco leaving Harry a chair next to mine in front of them and tells us to help ourselves. I take Harry’s plate and serve him first under my mum’s attentive stare. This is probably surprising and amusing Harry. I bet he never imagined I would treat him like an actual guest but my family raised me to be a great host.

“Thank you, Blue.” He says.

A timid smirk takes over my lips that he can’t see and I shake my head before I grab my own plate and serve some fish and asparagus for myself.

“How did you call her?” My mum asks.

I tense up. I let him call me Blue because I know what it means to him. It’s that Elvis Presley’s song that he likes and I actually like it when he calls me that. I’d much rather have him calling me Blue than baby in front of my mother anyway. Harry stiffens on his chair though. I’ll let him be nervous for this one. That’s what happens when you overstep.

“Did you call her Blue?” My mum’s eyes widen.

“Isn’t that my name?” I smirk as I sit back down next to him.

“Yes, it is.” She smiles. “It’s just… You… People don’t usually call her that.”

Harry nods.

“I know. She doesn’t actually let me call her that but I knew she wouldn’t call me out in front of you.” He explains.

My mum laughs out loud before she also serves herself some dinner. I can’t believe he just said that. How can he be so shameless?

“Harry, why don’t you bless the table? You know, say thank you for this food.”

His green eyes widen as he stares at me. We’ve never done that in this house but I’ve had dinner with him times enough to know he doesn’t do that either. Coco giggles under her breath. My mum doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t know whether I asked him to do that because that’s something he normally does so I just wait for the fun to begin. He clears his throat.

“I… Uh, I’m sorry but I’ve never done that. I don’t want to like do something bad and be accidentally offensive but you can do it in Spanish if you want.”

“She’s just messing with you, Harry.” My mum swats my head and Coco laughs.

“¡Mamá!”

“De verdad, Blue, ¡qué vergüenza, por Dios! Compórtate.” (Seriously, Blue, that was embarrassing, for the love of God! Behave yourself.)

“Mamá, pero si a Harry le encantan las bromas. Isn’t that right, Harry? Don’t you love jokes?”

“I love a joke as much as the next guy.” He smiles.

“Oh, do you?” My mum smiles. “Then how would you like to hear a funny story about Blue?”

My eyes widen and my cheeks tinge red. Harry lowly chuckles next to me and Coco laughs and shakes her head.

“Eso te pasa por meterte con el invitado.” (That’s what you get for messing with Mum’s guest.)

“I remember this one time when Blue was over sixteen years old.”

“Mamá, no, no, la de la feria no.” (Mum, no, no, not the one on the fair.)

She nods and smiles mischievously.

“We were in Spain for the summer holidays and my family is from a small town in Spain and lots of small towns in Spain have these summer festivities where we have like a fair and free concerts and things like that so we were at the fair and there was this attraction that consisted on punching like a small punching bag that somehow quantifies the strength you have.”

I bring my hand to my face at the memory and Coco starts laughing.

“It was amazing.” She adds.

Harry glances at me with a teasing grin on his pretty face.

“So my son Rio challenged Blue and he hit it first. Blue’s very competitive so she got ready” my mum starts making gestures with her hands imitating me and I purse my lips trying not to smile “and she hit it so hard it effectively stick to the ceiling of the machine” my mum nods “for a few seconds and then when she was being all sassy to Rio because she had won, the punching bag came back and hit her on the back of her head.”

My sister holds her belly as she gives us a demonstration of her silent laughter and Harry laughs out loud too.

“That’s such a great story.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I nod.

“And this is delicious, Alizia. Did I pronounce it right?”

“More or less.” My mum giggles. “You can call me Allie, if that’s easier.”

Well, she really liked Harry. I understand, he’s being all charming and all smiles for my family. And he’s very handsome too. I’m both my mum and my sister are thinking that.

“So, Harry, do you study with Blue?”

His eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Kind of.” He explains. “I’m a doctor but you know we study all our lives so yeah I study with her sometimes.” He smiles.

“Oh, you’re a doctor already?” My mum nods. “And do you also know Blue’s friends or just her?”

“No, I know them.”

My mum nods. I know that was her way of trying to find out how we met. I also know she probably doesn’t think we’re just friends anymore. I give her a smile and raise my eyebrows at her stare. Oh, no, she’s trying to figure it out.

“And where are you from? I hope you don’t mind me asking.” She smiles.

“I don’t. I’m from Bellamond.”

“Oh” Coco’s lips part as she looks at him as if he had just admit he was raised poor.

She’s so tactless I want to hit her on her head. I kick her under the table and she stiffens and frowns at me. I widen my eyes warningly at her and she just pouts and look away.

“That’s a very nice village.” My mum says. “You know I’ve painted quite a lot there. In that river that goes down the bridge to the train station.”

“Oh, yeah” Harry grins “My mum lives like seven minutes away from that bridge. I used to hang out on the river banks when I was growing up.”

“Oh, you did?” My mum smiles.

“Yes, I wish I could see one of your paintings. I bet they bring me nice memories.”

My mum loves that. He’s good.

“That’s what my paintings are all about.” She celebrates. “Maybe you could bring him to the next exhibit, nena.” She tells me.

“Sure.” I lie.

Of course not. I won’t just walk around with him on my mother’s gallery. That’s not what exclusive friends with benefits do.

“I would love that.” He explains. “Maybe it could be our next date.”

I choke on my corvina. My mum’s eyes widen and her lips part and Coco grins like she was in love. I’m going to press my hands down his throat and kill him.

“I’m kidding.” He explains. “I did say I like a joke.”

“I hate you.”

Coco laughs before she gets up from the table and starts picking it up.

“I’m going out.” She announces.

“With Chicco?”

Coco shakes her head. She waits until my mum is out of the room to tell us.

“Guido asked me out but don’t tell mum. You know how she gets.”

All excited and completely gone planning tacky weddings and doing ceramics. I chuckle.

“Don’t worry.”

“Guido Matteoti?” Harry asks her being the nosy soul he is.

She nods and Harry smiles.

“Well try not to break his heart, Coco.” He warns. “He’s one of the few decent ones of his kind.”

I chuckle while Coco takes both our empty plates and shakes her head.

“You guys are the perfect match.” She says.

I throw my head back and laugh while Harry just grins and raises his eyebrows.

“Too bad we’re just friends.” He shrugs.

This time it’s Coco who laughs before she walks away from the table. Harry slaps my thigh gently before moving his hand up and down grinning at me.

“I didn’t know you were so strong, baby.” He teases me.

I click my tongue and swat his arm.

“Stop it, you idiot.”

He chuckles and rests his left elbow on the table, tilting his body so he’s facing me and he raises his eyebrows as he wriggles his fingers.

“Come on. I’m a right-handed. I’m giving you a leg up.”

I roll my eyes and stare at his hand. He’s going to win. But I still please him and he grins when I hold his hand.

“Okay, ready, set, go.”

I push his hand as hard as I can but he’s not budging. At least he’s not pushing mine back either. I’m frowning and my entire face is wrinkled as I try to push his arm down but he just chuckles.

“Are you done?” He asks me.

I purse my lips and he chuckles.

“Careful, love” he pushes my arm back until it lays on the table easily “wouldn’t want to hurt you.” He chuckles.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Styles.”

“Styles?” He laughs. “You really are competitive, hey?”

“And you really are conceited.”

He chuckles. He’s about to say something when my mum walks towards the table with two bowls of natillas con galletas and she sets them in front of the two of us.

“I’m taking Coco to her date.” She tells us. “She thinks I don’t know but she’s wearing lip gloss. Una madre sabe esas cosas. Those are natillas, Harry. It’s Blue’s favourite dessert.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“Grasias, Allie.”

My mum smiles.

“See you, guys. It was very nice meeting you and having you for dinner, Harry. You can come anytime you want.”

“Thank you for having me. Well, it was really delicious so I’d gladly accept any future invites.” He smiles at me.

I roll my eyes. I get a spoonful of natillas so I don’t have to say anything but he’s smiling even if he’s trying not to as he tries my mum’s natillas aka the best dessert in the world.

“Fuck” he frowns but I know that face, that’s his appreciation face.

“I know, it’s the best dessert in the world.”

“It’s delicious” he agrees “but it’s not the best dessert in the world.” He smirks mischievously.

“Pancakes are breakfast, not dessert.”

“Wasn’t talking about pancakes.” His green eyes set on mine.

When I understand he’s talking about me, my cheeks tinge pink and I look away. He’s so dirty.

“You know” I change the topic “I’m a little worried about Marie and your friend.”

“Adam?” He sounds surprised. “Don’t worry about him. He’s harmless. He’s probably not the kind of person you think he is.”

“Why do you say that? Who do you think I think he is?”

He widens his eyes and shakes his head as if he was lost with my question and I chuckle. He’s got the sense of humour of an elderly man.

“You probably think he’s a womanizer selfish prick.” He shrugs. “Just like you think of me.”

I frown. That’s not what I think of him. I mean, it’s not all I think of him. I also think he’s smart and caring and affectionate and lovely but I won’t sweet talk to him.

“He’s not like you think.”

“How is he then?”

Harry shrugs.

“He’s kind.”

“Then how come he doesn’t have a girlfriend? How old is he?”

“He’s twenty-six.” He smirks.

“Why are you smiling? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?”

“No.” He laughs. “It’s just funny how judgy you’re being.”

That offends me. I’m not being judgy, I’m just protecting my friend. Marie goes all out when she’s in love and she falls in love so easily and I do not want this guy to hurt her because she’s one of the best people I know.

“I’m just asking because I care about Marie.”

Harry nods.

“I know.”

“Is he like you?”

“Meaning?” His green eyes set on mine.

“Meaning, does he not do girlfriends either?”

Because that’s not the kind of guy who can be with Marie. His eyes seem to be tremendously amused with this.

“Not at all.” He chuckles. “He had a girlfriend for several years but they broke up after the accident.”

“What accident?”

His green eyes turn darker and he coughs.

“He was in the car with Gemma. I thought you knew.”

“How would I know if you didn’t tell me?”

He shrugs.

“I thought you had put two and two together.”

I shake my head. He gives me a sad smile.

“What I’m worried about” he adds “is your friend.”

“Marie?” I all but yell. “She’s lovely!”

“As lovely as you are? Because in that case we have a problem.”

I roll my eyes. He thinks he’s so funny.

“Real lovely” I defend my friend “she really is lovely. She’s nothing like me.”

It’s true. She isn’t. She’s sweet and caring and affectionate and lovely and lovable. His green eyes study me for the longest minute. I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I give him a questioning look and he sighs and pushes his empty bowl of natillas away from him.

“He’s got erectile dysfunction.” He tells me.

My eyes widen. But he’s twenty-six years old! My lips part. Oh, oh.

“After the accident, he had a lot of internal bleeding and he had a surgery. Well, actually, a few. He’s actually lucky all he got as a repercussion from the accident was that.” Harry explains. “But it’s really hard for him to even open up about it and it’s also hard to find someone who doesn’t care about that.”

“But… Can he not have sex at all?”

Harry sighs.

“Well the penetration is just part of sex and it’s not even mandatory. I mean if anything, the one who has trouble having an orgasm is him but, yes, he can have sex. He just has a prosthesis.”

I nod. I’ll google that afterwards because I have no idea how that works and I’m not about to ask him and make the whole thing even more awkward.

“But it’s still complicated. He’s gone through hell, Blue and I wouldn’t like someone else hurting him.”

The way he worries about him makes my heart swells for him. Granted, nobody wants their friends to suffer but I’ve never heard Harry talk that way about anyone. He really cares about his friend and that’s fucking hot to me. Everything he does is hot to me. Except when he acts like a vain jackass.

“If Marie hurts her, I don’t give a fuck she’s your friend. I want you to know that.”

Is he threatening us?

“Well, the same holds true for you. Marie is not as superficial as you think us posh girls are and even then, Marie is a lot better than me. She’s a lot better than everyone. She would never put someone down because of something like that. And if Adam hurts her, I don’t give a fuck he’s your friend.”

Harry smiles and nods before he leans in and brings his mouth close to mine.

“Give me a kiss.” He demands.

I smile before I do as I’m told and feel him smile against my lips before I lick his and deepen our kiss. He hums on my mouth and his fingers find my ponytail and take it off.

“I love your hair down.” He whispers.

“I’ve noticed.” I giggle.

“You look like an angel.”

He presses his lips against mine again. His hands move down to my ass and he pulls me to him so I stand up and straddle him and he smiles.

“You have nothing on the oven, right?” He jokes.

I laugh but keep kissing him so our teeth collide more than once. He runs his hands down my hair and cups my cheeks as he deepens the kiss. He hums.

“I want you, Blue.”

“Have me then.”

My voice sounds almost adolescent but my pulse sped up and my lungs flap humidly. It’s that easy for him. He just has to say that. He smiles against my lips but his tongue licks mine and his hands caress my back.

“What do you want to do, baby? Or better, what do you want me to do to you?”

I’m already wet. He’s going to dry me like a grape under the sun.

“Don’t be shy, love. Not with me.” He licks my lips. “You asked me to take you bare and to go harder the other night. Are you going to get shy now?”

“That was the heat of the moment.” I joke.

He stiffens under my touch and I know he’s panicking a little but I let him feel my smile against his lips so he knows I’m joking. He squeezes my hips tight as a sweet form of punishment.

“You scared me.” He whimpers like a boy. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

I cup his cheeks with both hands and force him to look at me. I can’t believe he’s second-guessing what happened the other night.

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had.” I confess and he grins.

It was also the first time I had someone bare but I’m not going to tell him that. This is enough confidence boost for today. When I set his face free, he presses a kiss on my cheek.

“Tell me what you want.”

I don’t know why I’m being shy. He has never made me feel anything other than wanted and desired during sex but I have to look away from the intensity of his stare.

“How can you be so shy now if you were yelling for me to go faster just three nights ago?”

“I was very turned on then…”

“And you’re not turned on now?”

Of course I am. My sex is swollen and dripping under my underwear. He would giggle if he touched me now. He grips my hips and lifts me from his lap, sitting me down on the table before he stands between my legs. Pressing one hand on my low back, he pulls me close to him until there’s no air between our bodies.

“I know you are.” He cups my sex through my tights and presses a kiss on my jawline. “Being close to me turns you on. I know it does.”

I clench my teeth but my lustful eyes probably give me away. I hate that he’s so confident about his effect on me. It makes me feel weak that he’s so sure of the power he has over me.

“I know because it’s the same for me.”

His confession parts my lips and I stare at him as if he had just given me the solution to every problem in the world.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He whispers on my ear. “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m already only yours, you know that.”

His words charm me and with all the confidence I was lacking minutes ago, I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer pressing my knuckles on the back of his thighs. I devour his mouth and he groans but pulls away.

“Talk to me.”

“I… I want you to… Fuck me on this table.”

His pink lips part and his pupils dilate. I don’t know if that was enough. Now that he agreed to have sex only with me, I’m afraid I won’t be enough. After all, I’m not very experienced and I’m afraid he’s afraid to hurt me, what with how careful he’s been with me and all that.

“Baby…” I croon.

His eyes grow darker as I use the pet name he uses with me all the time. I try to go about this in the sexiest way possible. As if I was the one with the situation under control. I press both hands on his chest and licks my lips staring deeply into his eyes.

“I want you to do to me whatever it is you want.” I whisper before I press a kiss on the corner of his mouth and then his cheek and his earlobe. “Whatever turns you on, love” I lick his earlobe “Make me yours…”

“Jesus Christ, Blue.” He gasps.

It’s working? I think it is.

“It’s you.” He says out of breath. “You turn me on all the fucking time, love. With these thighs” he squeezes them against his hips “and this body, love, and the sounds you make… You drive me crazy.”

His fingers caress the skin on the side of my exposed neck as his green eyes study mine.

“Take this off.” He whispers, pulling at my sweater.

“No.”

He panics but I smirk devilishly.

“You do it.”

“Fuck” he giggles “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He takes my sweater off and doesn’t waste another second to cup my breasts and squeeze them on his hands. His mouth attacks my neck and I throw my head back and puff air out as he kisses my skin. His hands feel amazing on my breasts. I never thought having my breasts touched could feel this good but every where he places his hands seem to set on fire.

He pulls my skirt up my hips and holds it on my waist and grabs the hem of my tights pulling them harshly down my legs. When I kick them off me, his fingertips find my lace underwear and I hear his breath hitching on his throat. He looks down between my legs so as to see my underwear.

“This is fucking sexy.” He whispers, caressing my underwear with his fingertip.

I cup his cheeks and bring his face closer as my mouth attacks his neck. I kiss, suck and nibble his skin as my hands work on the button and the zipper of his jeans and he growls and squeezes my ass cheeks on his hands.

“You’re killing me, baby.” He groans.

He lets me kiss his neck as I please but when my hand finds his arousal, he growls and turns me around so my belly is against the table.

“I want to fuck you like this.” He whispers on my ear. “Take you from behind and ruin you.”

I moan as he squeezes my breast on his hand.

“So fucking pretty.”

His hand pulls down my undies harshly and he caresses my ass before he slaps me. I gasp and moan at the sudden contact.

“I love your ass.” He squeezes the flushed skin on his hand. “It’s so perfect.”

“Harry, please, fuck me. I can’t take it anymore.”

I feel his chest rumbling as he laughs behind me.

“Glad to see you’re not shy anymore… Just minutes ago you couldn’t tell me what you wanted and now look at you, begging me to fuck you on your mum’s dining table. Such a dirty girl, Blue… My dirty girl.” With that he thrusts inside, all the way, and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

The feeling is exquisite. Having him inside me, warm and hard, as he holds my hips and move my body up and down against the wooden table. I wish we could stay forever like this, where there’s nothing but him and I’m nothing but the part of me he’s touching.

“Harder, love” I whisper “Fuck me as hard as you can. Ruin me.”

“Fuck, baby.”

He thrusts hard and fast in and out of me and I don’t even know how he can be so good at this. It’s ridiculous. He tangles his fingers on my hair and pull me up the table until my bare back hits his chest and his other hand finds my clit. He presses frenetic circles on my soaked bud of nerves.

“You like it like this?” He groans as he pushes inside me. “You like it when I fuck you hard and fast, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes…” I gasp “God, Harry…”

“I’m not gonna last long, baby. You drove me crazy.” He whimpers. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes.” I gasp. “Just keep… I’m so close… Fuck, love, you’re amazing.”

“So are you, my love.” He presses a kiss on my shoulder. “Baby, I can’t… Take it. Oh, fuck!”

He all but screams behind me as I come undone. My whole body shakes and my legs fail me so the hand that was on my hair wraps around my waist and keeps me in place. His thrusts become sloppier, slower and deeper as he unloads inside me.

If this isn’t what heaven feels like, I don’t know why the call it paradise.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles love #harry styles reader #harry styles au #doctor harry #doc harry #harry styles news #harry styles daily #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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Chapter 17 - A Broken Journey

Aaaand I'm back with another chapter! Given the time I made you wait, I won't distract you with any of my ramblings. Thanks to @spiffingtea for betaing this chapter. Enjoy!

Geralt is on bard protection duty while on the way to Goldfurt, the seat of Janina's "beloved" husband. What could possibly go wrong?

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The stink of rot filled the freezing cold air, accompanied by a piercing scream, and Geralt cursed as he wheeled not-Roach II around. "What's happening?" he demanded, but didn’t get to finish his question before a muffled cry from the back of the column announced: "Nekker!"

"Geralt—" Jaskier began, but he paid him no heed.

"Fuck," he cursed, not quite sure if he was talking to the Viscount or his rear guard, "stay where you are!" He dug his heels into the horse's sides, trying to get to them. It would have been an easy feat if not for the damned carriage flanked by guards blocking the whole bloody road, filled to the brim with Pankratz sisters reeking of sour vinegar fear.

More faint curses and strenuous grunts reached his ears as he snapped at the Kerton guards to give some fucking way. "Oh fuck, oh shit," he heard Borys' strained voice, "no you won't, you damned beast- shit, Geralt!"

A beat of silence followed as the Kerton guard finally moved his horse off the road, so Geralt could pass. Finally, he could see the beast when Borys shouted: "I'm fine! We're fine."

"Shit," he grunted and slid off the horse's back.

"Shit indeed," Borys agreed. "Where's Marin?"

He crouched down to get a better look. "Scouting ahead." His inspection of the body was accompanied by incessant talking: "Fuck, let me through, for the gods' sake! He's my witcher, let me through, I need to see—"

He tried to tune it out and turned back to the beast. It was very dead. Unfortunately, Borys wasn't done with his interrogation: "And his lordship?"

"Apparently coming this way." He poked it with his silver sword. Not so much as a twitch. 'The idiot.'

Just that morning he had dressed whilst the Captain of the Guard had knocked on his door. "So, about that oath," he had said with a deep frown. "You don't leave his side, yeah?"

"Wouldn't think of it." The way to Goldfurt wasn't a dangerous journey, nor even a long one. But apparently the annual soiree was known to draw in every lord, knight, and magnate of the area.

It was an easy enough target for any roving band of well-armed bandits worth their salt. 'Or nekkers, apparently.' And the safety of their buttons and purses was not the worst thing thieves could relieve them off. Not with Ciri travelling in the carriage.

She was the reason Jaskier had taken the additional precaution of an escort of half a dozen guards—additionally to Marin and a witcher. She was also the reason why Geralt's only duty was to look out for the Viscount. With him taken care of, the rest of them could keep all eyes on the bulky box that loudly rattled through the countryside.

Not that he minded. He liked having an excuse to stay close to Jaskier. His not-friend had even taken up his usual chatter in lack of another conversational partner. That and to hide the chattering of his teeth, Geralt suspected.

Geralt got up with a sigh. Borys and his colleague had done quite an impressive job, considering they were only human. "That one won't rise again anytime soon."

Borys wiped sweat off his brow, smearing the blood on it in the process. "Well, that was easier than expected. Watch out, witcher, or I'll give you a run for your money. Was that all?"

"No," Geralt answered as a voice behind him cut in: "Not in the least, I fear. Nekker, you said? Nekkers seldom travel alone, there's a pack probably right around the corner. Am I right, my witcher?"

Geralt whipped around to see a far too smug looking Jaskier on Pegasus' back and bit back a growl. The damned bard knew better than to get this close, knew better than to talk, so that Geralt couldn't hear a bloody thing--shit, they were close.

"Right," he barked and heaved himself up into not-Roach II's saddle again, "and they're close. Get the women and children—"

He was interrupted again: "—to safety, have the other humans clear the road—hand you the bombs and the ogroid oil—yes, I know. I have neither bombs on my person, but the rest has been taken care of." The scuffle behind them was proof enough. The noble ladies abandoned their wheeled prison and were led by the guards to the underbrush, further away from where the fight would inevitably take place. "You two, too,” he motioned at Borys and his companion. “Go and help the others."

The two guards were quick to oblige, still shaken by their recent encounter with a monster. But Geralt had no eyes for them. "Then what," he growled at Jaskier, "are you still doing here?"

The stubborn bastard squared his shoulders and put a hand on the pommel of his useless ceremonial sword. "I am coming with you."

"No." The thought alone was enough to send ice water coursing through his veins.

"Yes, I am. This is dangerous--”

"Which is why, you're going to stay with the rest. I'm a witcher, I've handled this before. And I will handle it again. Now. Go!"

"But--!"

"We don't have time!" Geralt roared, though it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of the unspoken words: 'But you had Roach. But you had your potions. But you were prepared.' He couldn't allow himself to think too much about it.

"I won't die today," he promised, stupidly. "Ride on, Jaskier. We both know you can't fight for shit." He turned not-Roach II around, ready to charge at the approaching nekkers. For some stupid reason he hesitated.

"My witcher--"

"My lord--" they said simultaneously. For a moment they just stared. Then, they nodded in silent agreement. 'Stay safe,' he thought as he spurned not-Roach II on.

Clearing his head of concern for Jaskier and Ciri alike was harder than Geralt dared to admit. So, it should be no surprise that when the first nekker appeared, an arc of silver sliced through empty air.

'Get a grip, Geralt,' he thought angrily as he tugged on the reins to bring the horse to a halt. 'Making friends gets you talking. Talking gets you sloppy. Sloppy gets you killed.'

The next strike hit home and cleaved the bastard's neck clean off his neck. 'Two,' he made a mental tally. He only hoped it was a small pack.

Not-Roach II’s ears flicked, the horse as so often aware of a beast's presence long before the witcher. It was pure instinct that made him turn around and knock the beast back with Aard before it could take a bite out of the poor animal. He slid off its back and sheathed his silver blade in the nekker's gut with the same motion. 'Three,' he thought and clapped the horse on the flank to send it off to the others.

The next ones he could smell and feel as the earth rumbled beneath him. He spun away, bringing himself between the beasts and the humans, as three of them broke free from the ground and shrieked horribly. "Scream all you want," he growled, "all you'll find here is your death."

They charged at once and Geralt desperately wished for a bomb as he backed up. Or even a dose of Swallow. His Aard didn't throw them back much, but at least it gave him time to relieve one of them of its left arm before they swarmed him.

The world moved into a blur as he ducked and slashed and stabbed, guts and blood splattering over his face and newly-cleaned armour. He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed or how many of them he had killed when he came back to himself, panting and sweating, his sword still buried deep in a nekker's gut.

With a grunt he wrenched it free and took in the destruction around him. 'Ten,' he counted and wiped his sword on his pants. 'Not bad without assistance.' He stabbed the nekker below him again, to make sure it was really dead, while he did his best to stifle his surprise.

He was still checking he had killed them all when he heard it: "Geralt?" a too well-known voice called meekly. "Are you done yet?"

With a snarl he whipped around. "How many times, bard? I fucking told you to stay back!"

"Ah, yes, you're done." With a sigh the Viscount stepped out of the underbrush, the heady scent of sour fear mixing with honeyed happiness and soap. Relief? Was Jaskier relieved? "Though I might remind you that neither am I a bard anymore, nor do your commands bear any weight against me now."

Uncaring for his bloodied appearance, he stepped into Jaskier's personal space and growled: "You are an idiot, my lord. I—"

Without so much batting his lashes he smirked. "You're not the first person to say that, nor will you be the last," he replied completely unfazed. "Probably not even today."

"I do not command you for my pleasure, I do it to protect you!" he bellowed. The words rang through the woods incredibly loud. Long after he had spoken the truth into existence, they still echoed in their uncomfortable silence, as they stared at each other.

Jaskier was the first to glance away, but he did not back up. "Well, I'm glad we've settled that particular question." He wet his lips nervously, his eyes flickering about. It made Geralt's skin crawl. "You should cut their heads off."

"What?" It took him a while to break out of his paralysis. Still not moving away he turned his head to follow Jaskier's gaze. Right. The nekkers. "Why?" he asked, irritated. "There's no contract."

Jaskier scoffed and finally took a step backwards. Geralt felt like he could breathe again. "Oh, there will be," he promised. "We will be resting for a bit," the Viscount decreed. "Marin should be back soon enough, we can continue then. Here." He tossed him a satchel. "Come back once you're done."

With that he vanished in the thicket again. Soon the blue velvet vanished even from a witcher's gaze and Geralt was forced to turn back to the task at hand. 'Fuck, Jaskier,' he thought while he was chopping off heads, 'what are you doing to me?'

He was quick to complete his task and stored the heads in the satchel, now dripping with blood. Together with the other guards he cleared out a spot near the road, where they piled the bodies onto each other, so they could burn them. No use in them coming back to life in any way, shape or form.

After a quick Igni the air filled with the unpleasant scent of charred flesh, and Geralt went back to the group of waiting nobles. With the danger passed a jovial atmosphere had settled in.

A high-pitched screech of laughter fluttered through the air. Ciri and Daria swept past him and leapt into a nearby pile of leaves, fleeing Miss Nina's watchful eyes. He couldn't help but smile. It was oddly calming to see children just play. 'Ciri deserves it.'

Even the adults seemed to enjoy the clear late autumn day. The three Pankratz sisters stood in front of the carriage, chatting amiably. The governess was with them, too. She was currently talking to Julek, who covered his ears and stared at her with wide fearful eyes. He was a strange boy, Geralt thought. He pitied him. The world was no kind place for strange children.

He almost went over to take a closer look, when he was distracted by a pristine white kerchief that was thrust into his face. "Here," Jaskier said, "at least clean your face, will you?"

Geralt raised a curious eyebrow. "That's hardly necessary. I wouldn't want to soil your precious cloth with... nekker guts."

"I insist," Jaskier insisted. A hesitant smile danced around his lips. "There are some luxuries you may indulge in in my service. A clean face after saving my life is one of them."

"Hmm." He took the soft cloth with careful fingers and wiped at his face under Jaskier's watchful gaze. "Better?"

"Not quite," he murmured. "Here, let me..." He gently took the handkerchief from his hands and stepped closer. It was a fine, soft cloth, the initials J.A.P. embroidered on the corner with which Jaskier dabbed at his skin. It felt softer still in the Viscount's nimble fingers.

"Better," he decreed finally and snapped Geralt out of his calm state of mind.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Jaskier smiled, before his eyes widened as if he just realised how close they were standing. "Oh, um. Better. Here. Take it." He thrust the handkerchief forward again.

"My lord—"

"It's got blood on it, now. I don't want it anymore."

"Hmm." Geralt took it from him and stuffed it into his sleeve when he heard hoofbeats in the distance. His head snapped around to see a rider heading towards them at full speed.

The Viscount de Lettenhove cocked his head with a pliant smile on his face. "What is it?"

"A rider." He pushed him behind his back with his free hand. "Too far away to make out any details."

Jaskier laughed. Geralt knew it was supposed to sound light-hearted, but it didn't. "Probably just Marin."

"Hmm." He wasn't about to take any risks. Not after what had happened earlier.

Geralt exhaled a white puff of frozen breath and strained his eyes. Slowly, he lowered his blade. "It's Marin."

"See?" Jaskier smiled triumphantly. "I told you it's just him. No need for you to worry about me."

"And here I was, thinking worrying about you's my job." Jaskier's smile fell as the one on Geralt's face grew wide.

Before either of them had a chance to deal the finishing blow, the Captain of the Guard bridled his mare in front of them; a cloud of frozen dust flew up in their faces. "My lord," he greeted with a curt nod, "the city gates are less than an hour away. They have been informed of your impending arrival." Marin winked at Geralt as he dismounted and handed his reins to one of the other guards.

After that first tumble in the hay, there had been others--some quite literally so. Marin had been right; he had a knack for stress relief. So, Geralt had no qualms about falling into bed with him. Not every time there was a bed involved, sometimes it was just a stable wall or a tree in the woods--but it was all the same to him. It was fun and easy, and they both got to blow off some steam. It seemed like a sensible enough arrangement for the winter.

It was a nice change, too. Normally the cold season meant that he had to take matters into his own hands, which was easier in Lettenhove than in a witchers' keep. He was fairly certain that Jaskier wouldn't be able to hear him and he knew that he couldn't smell him. But Geralt could and that was perhaps even worse.

He was glad for the excuse Marin offered him to escape from the Viscount's immediate proximity. With him, at least, he had a say in setting the boundaries.

"Thank the gods," Jaskier sighed and flexed his gloved fingers to get rid of the cold. "I might get to keep my extremities after all."

Geralt resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jaskier never dressed appropriately for the weather and his return to a noble life hadn't improved that vice in the slightest. "You could have ridden in the carriage, my lord," he informed him quietly. 'Or just donned a proper coat,' he thought. Silks and satins were not made for days when the midday sun could barely thaw the hoarfrost.

"And how would that look?" the Viscount scoffed. "Speaking of appearances, fetch my sister, will you?"

He chanced a glance back at the giggling cluster of ladies. "Which one?"

"Why, the Countess of Goldfurt, of course! She desires to be seen when returning home. Marin, you can go."

"Thank you, my lord," he heard Marin answer as he walked over to the large carriage. Geralt furrowed his brows. 'Seen by whom?' he wondered. 'Seen at whose side?'

If the past two months had taught him anything it was that nobles never did anything without a reason. Their whole life was a show, a shadow play to make them seem larger than life. A glittering display of wealth and might to blind the common folk to their true nature. 'They don't have power and they know it,' he thought bitterly. 'And they're terrified of anyone else finding out.'

As a witcher he knew what could happen once the people understood they outnumbered those they blamed for their worries. It had almost meant the extinction of his guild. He didn't doubt the day when nobles' heads would roll would come, too. Strangely, he found himself hoping that that day was still in the far future. 'Let it be centuries after Jaskier's death.'

His sombre thoughts were interrupted by Miss Nina's shriek, as Ciri and Daria reappeared within her line of sight with dirty dresses and dirtier hands. "Master Julek, you stay where you are," she ordered the already immoving boy and marched over to the two whirlwinds. "Miss Kerton, Miss Nowak, what kind of behaviour is this?"

Geralt snarled quietly but tore himself away. As far as anyone was concerned, he was just 'Fiona's' fencing master. That wouldn't keep him from having a word with Jaskier, though. Or better yet, with Justyna.

As little as he liked to admit it, he couldn't help but like what he'd seen from the Lady Kerton so far. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Since her arrival he almost imagined that the same had returned to Jaskier's face, too.

So, when he walked over to them there were two smiles greeting him, and just one frown. "My ladies," he offered as a greeting.

"Witcher," Justyna answered. "I think, thanks are in order."

He shrugged. "I'm just doing my duty, my lady."

She smiled politely. "Still, I thank you for defending our life so valiantly. I'm sure my brother will craft the most wondrous tale of this encounter."

"No, he won't," Janina scoffed. "He doesn't do that anymore. What do you want, witcher?"

He nearly growled. As much as it was the truth, he didn't like having it rubbed in his face. "We're due to arrive in Goldfurt soon," he replied tersely. "Your brother told me to fetch you."

It earned him a laugh from all three of them. "Well, if his lordship commands so," Justyna replied; it was a tease he didn't understand. "Better hurry up, Janka, you don't want to keep him waiting."

"Actually, I do," the Lady Goldfurt replied. "Especially with this weather."

Geralt did his best to keep a straight face. "He claimed it was at your behest."

Justyna chuckled. "Well, he's got you there, Stokrotka. You did ask to ride at his side."

"The gods know why," Józefa muttered and stared intently at her gloved fingernails. "It's freezing."

Janina reached over and patted her hands. "Get married. Then you'll understand."

Józefa looked just as confused as Geralt felt in face of the silent communication that transpired between the oldest Pankratz sisters. "Well, you're right," Janina broke the silence, "I'd best be on my way. This Lord Lettenhove is certainly not known for his patience."

"Was there ever one who was?" Justyna sighed and rolled her eyes. "I for my part am glad that the worst outcome is a pout with this one."

"Or the occasional threat," Janina remarked.

"You know what I mean."

"I do. At least we don't have to wake to frog spawn in our beds anymore. He's a horrible brother."

"The worst. Do witchers have siblings?" Justyna turned to him unexpectedly.

Geralt cleared his throat uncomfortably. He felt like he was listening in again, just like on the courtyard a few days prior. He didn't feel quite comfortable with having attention drawn to him either. "We do, of sorts," he answered diplomatically. "I consider the younger witchers of the wolf school my brothers in arms as well as blood even though they're not."

"How cute," Janina snorted and waved her hand. "Hand me my hat, Józefa, will you?" It was a ridiculous thing, ridiculously small with a ridiculously large feather on top. The affinity to ridiculous clothing seemed to run in the family.

Justyna rolled her eyes as her sister went to join their brother. "And your siblings, are they just as obnoxious as mine?"

"Hmm." Usually he tried to avoid thinking of Kaer Morhen. He didn't want to admit how much he missed it. How much he missed Eskel with his warm smiles and his stupid infatuation with that goat. Or Lambert with his filthy mouth and constant complaints. They were nothing like the nobles. And yet, their relationships seemed strangely similar. "I wouldn't dare insult your family by comparing it to mine," he answered with a sly smile.

She laughed heartily. "I might have to revise my earlier statement, witcher. You might be no fun, but you're certainly funny. Surely one of the many qualities why our brother kept you around for so long."

He frowned and evaded her gaze. 'It wasn't like that.'

Before he could come up with a proper answer, Józefa cut in: "I believe it was the other way around, Justynka." Geralt couldn't help but stare at her. He had completely forgotten she was there.

"Justyna!" Jaskier's indignant voice called over to them. "Janina called me Lord Lettenhove again. Come over here and help me get her to stop!"

She sighed exaggeratedly and caught Józefa by the arm. "Come on, it's high time you get roped into this sibling warfare. You're on far too good terms with all of us for a Pankratz."

"I just don't understand why he hates it so much," she mumbled as she was dragged along. "Or why she insists on doing so."

"The same reason why Janina does not care for being called a Firkalt of Goldfurt, the same reason why he does it anyways,” Justyna explained. “It's half the fun."

"Oh no, it's all the fun," Janina contested immediately. Geralt watched with bewilderment as a small debate broke out between the three of the oldest siblings, with Józefa standing on the sidelines.

Geralt retreated back to the guards and horses, who just shook their heads. "They're like infants," Borys complained and they all nodded in agreement.

"So," Marin said and nudged Geralt with his elbow, "I heard I missed quite a fight. Tell us about it."

He rolled his eyes and began recounting what had happened. As brief as humanly possible, much to the protests of his listeners. Luckily for him, Borys needed no prompting to fill the gaps with his own imagination.

Beside them the argument grew even louder—they were talking about something entirely different now. It was strange seeing all of the siblings together. All of them were very loud, with Józefa as the only exception. While only Jaskier and Justyna seemed to be truly noisy, Janina was no less obnoxious. All of them were very direct too, always demanding, always ordering, always judging. Their ugliest insults were wrapped in the prettiest comments. It made them no less obvious, though—on the contrary.

Józefa was very quiet in comparison. And kind. She always smiled, was always courteous and gentle. She was the softness of all the Pankratz siblings, the silk and silver and flowers with none of the secrecy, the edge, the poison. Geralt could see why Ciri liked her so much.

"Done!" Janina declared and shook hands with Justyna. Geralt raised his brows but said nothing.

Borys leaned in closer to Geralt. "Five crowns says it's about who can annoy her husband more."

Marin laughed loudly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't fall for that, Geralt, you'll lose. I--"

But whatever he wanted to say next was interrupted by Miss Nina. "Your ladyship," she huffed angrily, dragging Daria with her, "I think some harsh words are in order."

"Daria," Justyna chided once she saw the dirty dress. "What have you done?"

"Fiona and I were just playing."

"And what will your father say when he sees you like this?"

He didn't miss how she froze at the mention of Lord Kerton, quickly followed by an unintelligible mumble. Geralt cocked his head. 'Curious.'

"And Fiona?" Jaskier asked, not unkindly. "Where is she?"

"She's with Titan," Daria mumbled meekly. Sure enough, there was a dirty child standing next to the gelding.

'Poor Daria,' he thought as he got up with a sigh, 'she probably thinks she's betraying her friend.' He raised his voice and called over to Jaskier: "I'll take care of it."

"Thank you," Jaskier answered in a normal volume.

The guards all stared at him in confusion. He just shrugged. "Witcher hearing. Need to talk to Fiona."

"Right," Marin announced and got up, too. "Gentlemen, we should see to it that this party gets underway again."

Geralt nodded his thanks for the distraction. He was sure Ciri would appreciate it, too. He approached Ciri from behind, careful to walk noisily. As much as he'd loved to startle her, she took to that worse than a horse. "You need a bath," he noted when he was still a few feet away.

"Geralt!" She turned to him with bright laughing eyes. He could see her fighting the urge to hug him. 'Not in public,' was what they had decreed.

"You had fun, cublet?"

"I did!" She bounced on her feet excitedly. "We were looking for Fir Cone Sprites."

"Hmm, did you find any?" Geralt smirked and glanced at the deciduous woodlands around them.

"No, we didn't."

"Couldn't fathom why," he jested and mussed up her hair. It was windswept already; he didn't add too much damage. Only belatedly he realised he should be telling her Fir Cone Sprites didn't exist. But he couldn't bring himself to be so cruel as to dull a child's creativity. He couldn't bear Ciri turning into the empty hull Jaskier was so often now.

"Geralt, will you help me look for some?"

He snorted. "Absolutely not. I know what you're doing, you menace. Quit stalling and tell me why you are here."

She gnawed on her lower lip. "Miss Nina is really angry. I feel sorry for it, I was the one who told Daria about the Fir Cone Sprites. And now Lady Justyna is chiding her for it."

"Hm. And you got off with a warning."

"No." She cast one quick look at him and a blush crept up her cheeks. "She told me to go speak to Jaskier. And explain why I dirtied the dress he gifted me."

"And did you?"

She shook her head.

"You should go to him. It will only get worse if you wait."

She didn't answer.

He crouched down to be at her level. "You told me. What's the difference?"

She frowned and for a moment Geralt's heart beat faster. Of course, there was a difference. There was no reason to think there wasn't. But the words were out there already, so he had to roll with it: "You know he likes fun. He did all kinds of crazy things when he was young," he tried to reassure her. 'He still does. We're in the middle of one.'

"I'm not scared he'll be angry," Ciri admitted finally. "I'm scared he'll be disappointed."

Geralt heaved a heavy sigh. He knew that feeling well enough. "I know he won't. Even if he is, it will only be to keep up the facade."

Her voice was scarcely more than a breath when she answered: "I don't even want him to pretend to be."

He sighed. "Would it help if I went with you?"

"Maybe?" She gifted him a quivering smile.

He stood up and took not-Roach II by the reins. "Come on, then."

She didn't move. "I wish I could ride," she sighed.

"I bet you do," he answered with a laugh. 'Not least to get away from Miss Nina.' "But you're a lady, madam, so the carriage it is."

She stared at him with large puppy dog eyes. Gods be damned, now he knew how Eskel had worked his charm on Vesemir. He hated it, too. "Can't we swap?"

He huffed a breath and messed up her hair. "Not today, cublet. Now quit stalling."

Side by side they walked over to where Jaskier, Janina and Marin were waiting with their horses. The others had walked back to the carriage already as all were getting ready to leave.

Jaskier and Janina were dressed quite similarly, he discovered, both of them equally ridiculous. Lady Janina was dressed no less frivolously than her brother, wearing a bright green cloak and black dress beneath with red gemstones. It was part of a joke he didn't understand, no doubt.

Jaskier was petting Pegasus lost in thought when Geralt cleared his throat. Despite Geralt's initial doubts, Jaskier was quite good with Pegasus, as he demonstrated since their departure. They all turned to them. Jaskier gasped. "Great gods have mercy, cublet! What happened to you?"

She looked at her feet sheepishly. "Daria and I went looking for Fir Cone Sprites."

"Fir Cone Sprites," Jaskier huffed angrily as if that was the most audacious thing he had heard in years. "Did you find any, at least?"

"No." After a short pause she added: "I'm sorry I dirtied the dress."

"No, no, none of that, dear child. It truly is outrageous that you have found not a single one. Geralt, I believe you must teach them to track."

Janina clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Julian, do you really think that's what you should be worried about right now?"

"Oh, absolutely. Not found a single Fir Cone Sprite, can you believe that, Janka?"

Marin snickered.

"Julek!" Janina scolded. Jaskier shot her a pleading look. "No, I can't believe it either," she gave in. "Truly, child, you should chastise your teacher for his failings."

"Oh, maybe we should teach her. What do you say, Janina? Get Justyna in the boat and we'll have a search party."

She sighed. "Fine."

Jaskier turned to Ciri with a triumphant smile on his face. It didn't take long for the cublet to reciprocate. "Better get back to the carriage and tell Daria and Julek about it."

"I'll take her," Geralt offered and took Ciri by the hand as she was skipping along. "Now, that went better than expected."

She nodded excitedly. "It did." Suddenly, she grew serious. "Do you think we'll be able to eat together again? I miss you during the mealtimes."

"Hmm," Geralt answered. "We'll see." He missed her, too, if he was honest. But Jaskier had excused him from the table and he knew enough about nobles that such a dismissal was synonymous with a sacking.

Still, guilt gnawed at him. He felt responsible for her and he cared about her greatly—so much it often terrified him.

She was his child surprise, and while that might be like having a daughter of his own, it didn't mean she had to see him as a parental figure too, he had to keep reminding himself. No matter how much Vesemir was the closest he or any of his brothers had to a parent, it probably wouldn't be the same for Ciri. The Princess had had a true family, much longer than either he, or Eskel, or Lambert could claim to. It was also why he had hesitated so long to fetch her.

She'd had parents, at first, and a grandmother and a grandfather later. Her life came with all the comforts money, fear, and power could buy. She was sheltered, warm, and loved. What had a witcher to offer her besides shivering nights next to campfires and hate directed to a mutant devoid of any emotion? That was no life and he had nothing else to spare.

But it wasn't so much his neglect of the affection he felt he owed her; more so her straying along others that had kept her from his side. Not that he could fault her for it.

"Geralt!" Marin called to him. He sighed. He knew it was high time for them to continue their journey.

When he looked back at her, she stared at him with wide eyes. "Geralt," she whispered, "do you love him?"

"I—what?" he spluttered. "No! No. I do not."

"Then why did he kiss you?" She frowned. "My grandmother and grandfather used to kiss each other a lot and it was because they loved each other. And I know some people need to pretend to be in love because they married. Like Jaskier and Lady Alina. But you and Marin are not, right?"

"No, we aren't." Normally he had no problem keeping his emotions in check, but he could feel a blush creep up his cheeks.

"Geralt!" Jaskier called now, too.

"I'll explain it to you, but not right now," he promised and pulled himself into the saddle. "Go back to the carriage." He watched until his child surprise vanished inside, then guided not-Roach II back to the head of the column.

Geralt quickly caught up to Marin who looked at him bemusedly. "What’s got you so flustered?"

"Now it's definitely no more kissing in public," he hissed. After that first embarrassing escapade at the breakfast table, he had been quite adamant about setting some boundaries. Not staying the night was one of them, and if Geralt hadn't been convinced on the no-kissing policy earlier, he was now.

"Sure." Marin shrugged. "Why?"

"Because Fiona saw you and asked why. I am not ready for that conversation," he mumbled, still deeply embarrassed. He vividly remembered Vesemir giving Eskel and him a very similar talk, unbeknownst to the poor man that they had already found out what their dicks were for. That time he hadn't had to do the talking, at least.

Marin blinked at him for a few moments. Then he broke out in bellowing laughter, doubling over in his saddle wheezing. It even extracted a chuckle from Geralt.

A quiet huff came from in front of them. "Are you quite done, yet?" Jaskier asked, annoyed.

"Yes, my lord," Marin answered, struggling to stifle his laughter. The only answer Jaskier dignified that with was kicking Pegasus into a trot.

The rest of their journey they passed in relative silence, only interrupted by the occasional peal of laughter by either Marin and Geralt or the carriage.

Only when the city walls appeared on the horizon, did Jaskier break the quiet. Pegasus fell in step next to not-Roach. "You should go and ride forth to greet your husband," he hissed, too quiet for any human to hear.

She gave a heavy sigh. "Oh really?" The sarcasm was enough that Geralt could feel her eye roll. "You don't say. You see, I'm not exactly eager to get back here."

"I know. But do you have to flaunt it like this?"

"Yes. Yes, I absolutely do. This is my home. Back off, Julian."

Grumbling, the Viscount brought a bit more distance between him and his sister. Surprisingly, he didn't utter a single complaint after that; not when he swooped his cloak over his shoulder, brandishing the ceremonial sword; not when the city guard made a move to stop them before seeing Janina and bowing deeply;not when the gates finally opened for them. And certainly not when they entered the narrow streets of Goldfurt.

With the first hoofbeat on cobblestone Geralt tensed up immediately. For the first time in his entire life he longed to wear his sword at his side instead of his back. Gripping its hilt would definitely add to his menacing scowl.

He hated cities. The fact that they were headed straight towards the castle didn't make it any better. He suppressed an irritated growl, wishing he had taken Ciri up on her earlier offer to trade places.

Geralt disliked towns for a lot of reasons. They were loud and stinky, and altogether they irritated his senses a lot. And they were prejudiced. Maybe not in the way the countryside was, but in rural areas he was at least a necessary annoyance. In cities he was just that: an annoyance. But most of all, he felt out of place. He felt even more out of place riding at the front of a procession that paraded the Viscount de Lettenhove around for everyone to see.

Marin moved his horse a bit closer to him. "Relax," he hissed, "they're not staring at you, they're staring at him. He needs to show off his new station and status."

Geralt growled darkly. He had a suspicion that by station and status what he really meant was 'currently unmarried and up for grabs'. The thought sat uncomfortably with him.

"You don't like it."

"Not one bloody bit," he spat out.

"It'll be over soon. Keep your head up high until then and keep glowering, then nobody will touch him for sure."

So Geralt did. He glowered at everyone in sight. At the liveried servants and velvet-clothed merchants, at silk-clad maidens and lace-shrouded widows. But most of all he glowered at Jaskier himself. As if that could make the blank expression on his face go away.

In the end, it did, but only to darken to a terrifying scowl when they found the courtyard of Goldfurt Castle deserted. He could practically feel the temperature drop as the expression on the Pankratz siblings' faces grew icy.

"I can't believe you wanted to come back here," Jaskier whispered to Janina, too quiet for anyone but her and Geralt to hear.

"I didn't," she replied just as quietly, "and now I remember why." She took a shuddering breath and sat up straighter in her saddle. "Well," she said louder, "it is good to be home. Is no-one present who might assist their lady in her homecoming?"

As if through magic a gaggle of servants manifested on the far end of the courtyard. They hurried over to hold their reins and offer them stepladders to dismount gracefully, and held the carriage door open as well. Justyna stepped out, and surely the others as well, but Geralt paid them no mind.

Even as he untied his satchel from the saddle, his gaze was transfixed firmly on Jaskier and the strained expression on his face. 'Please,' his mind begged, although he did not know for what. 'Please.'

Ciri was helped out of the carriage, too, looking rather lost before hurrying to Jaskier's side. Geralt wished once more he could trade places with her, only that he could soothe his child surprise.

'And Jaskier,' his mind supplied unhelpfully. The Viscount was fidgeting again, and there was a slight tremor to his feet. Geralt knew that to be particularly worrying. It meant that Jaskier was either about to fill his senses with alcohol, fuck his energy away, or punch someone. 'Or he could break down.' He couldn't even decide which was the worst option.

The last was the most gut-wrenching, though. It didn't happen often, but often enough for him to notice a pattern. Restlessness was common enough for Jaskier, but combined with anxiety it almost always ended badly. Jaskier would then do his best and try to get the energy out of his body, and from there, there were only two ways to go: either he wouldn't succeed and at one point his mind would burst with all the excess thoughts to come streaking down his cheeks in the form of tears.

Or, he would succeed, and that was even worse. Sometimes nothing happened after that, but most of the time what Geralt called 'The Numbness' followed. A couple of hours, days, or weeks Jaskier would be completely empty, the gaze in his eyes hollow and unfocused, while his empty interior seemed to fill up with every sensation around them. On those days he seemed almost as perceptive as a witcher, his mind reacting to the quietest of sounds. Much less focused and refined, of course. But then the worst part came, and that was when Jaskier's mind was finally filled to the brim. Geralt could always tell when that happened, for Jaskier's smile died on his face and the stink of vinegar, misery, and something else that smelled like candle wax he could never put a name to, wafted off him in horrible waves.

Most other people didn't notice, of course. To them the bard seemed just as cheery as always. Geralt did, though. He would then try to gently pry Jaskier away from the crowd, to get him somewhere private and do for him whatever Jaskier allowed him to. It was never much. But eventually they would both fall asleep only to wake in the night to the sound of Jaskier's quiet sobs. Geralt would pretend he wasn't listening and Jaskier would pretend he wasn't aware.

Jaskier snorted and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Janina took his hand and squeezed it once; it was a strangely intimate gesture for the warring siblings. "Come." She let go again and gathered her skirts to climb the grand staircase that led to the main entrance. "Time to greet my beloved husband."

Geralt didn't know much about the pomp and panoply of the wealthy, but even he noticed that Goldfurt was significantly more luxurious than Lettenhove. Where Jaskier's home was a keep at best, this was a palace with all the opulence that demanded. Janina had definitely married above her station.

Somehow, it was her who fit the least into that excess. She didn't wear shimmering silks and satins like Jaskier, or a multitude of petticoats like Józefa. And he definitely couldn't imagine her with glittering bejewelled hands like Justyna. In comparison to them she dressed almost modestly.

Still, the air of self-importance with which she carried herself left no doubt as to who was in charge. "No," she ordered the servants sharply when they wanted to get the door for her. She shouldered past them and threw the gullwing doors herself.

Three men sat at a table in Goldfurt's Great Hall, although one was hardly more than a boy. "Filip," Janina said icily and they all froze. "Lord Damian. Dominik. I see you're enjoying yourselves."

The man at the top end sighed and stood up. "Janina," Filip Firkalt of Goldfurt greeted his wife, "we did not expect you so soon."

"Then our guards are slow and lazy. You should replace them."

His lips quirked to the tiniest of polite smiles. "Of course." His eyes passed to the rest of the party. "I see you have brought the rest of our family. Julian Pankratz!" He spread his arms to pull him into a brotherly hug. "What a surprise, Lord Lettenhove. Honestly, I thought I'd seen the last of you after you got abducted by a witcher."

"I'm sorry to disappoint.,” Jaskier said with a light voice. "Alas, Lettenhove won't pass to my sisters after all."

"I see you're still the snot-nosed brat that got sent off to Oxenfurt.”

"Not quite, my lord. If nothing else, I did learn to use a handkerchief in the past twenty years."

The joke coaxed a laugh from the other man. He rose to his feet and the boy was quick to follow. "And honed your silver tongue, I see," Lord Kerton said. "As sharp as any dagger."

"Good brother! I've been dying to see you again." This time Jaskier did spread his arms for his approaching brother-in-law and hugged him.

"Julian. It's been quite a while. Have you met Dominik yet, my son and heir?"

"I have not." He nodded sharply. "My lord."

"Uncle." The boy's voice cracked as he bowed obediently. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord Lettenhove."

"As am I. I apologise for my prolonged absence from your life." He gifted his brother-in-law and icy smile. "Justyna's told me so much about Kerton, I'm sure we have a lot to talk about. After your joyous reunion, of course."

"Joyous indeed," Kerton muttered and slouched off to greet his wife. Daria and Julek bowed stiffly before their father and elder brother. There was no warmth on Justyna's face and even Daria's ever-present grin vanished as soon as she noticed her mother's rigid expression. Geralt hated it.

Before a snarl could disfigure his face, a disgusted sneer caught his attention: "What is that?" Goldfurt demanded to know, pointing at Geralt and his dripping satchel.

Jaskier didn't hesitate to jump to his rescue: "Not what, Goldfurt, who." He said curtly and beckoned him closer. "His name is Geralt of Rivia, and he would like to be paid."

Geralt felt quite self-conscious at that. "Jaskier, we're guests," he hissed. He didn't know much about courtly etiquette but he was sure as hell that this was considered impolite.

"I do not see how that keeps them from giving you your rightful due. I think I know more about my family's inexhaustible wealth than you do," he quipped for everyone to hear. Turning to Lord Goldfurt he continued: "Thanks to him your woods are safe again."

The Count was visibly unimpressed. "We were unaware they were ever in peril."

"Well, now you know." Janina cut in, much to Geralt's surprise. "You should thank him appropriately, my lord."

He barked a laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, woman, he's a witcher! I'm surprised you let him set foot in the city at all."

"He's my brother's guest who saved my life today. If you value it, you should show your gratitude."

The expression on Goldfurt's face made clear he didn't value it at all. Still, he said: "Very well. I'll take it up with my chancellor."

Geralt closed his eyes, thanking the gods that this farce was finally over. Too soon, unfortunately. "Is that him, Julian?" Lord Kerton demanded to know. "Your white wolf?"

"He is," Jaskier agreed with a bright smile, seemingly oblivious to their insult as he wrapped an arm around Geralt's shoulders. "My lords, may I present: the witcher, Geralt of Rivia, the white wolf and my very best friend in the whole wide world."

The words, once uttered so carelessly, made Geralt's gut churn now. 'It's all an act with nobles,' he reminded himself. And right now, he himself was nothing more than a strategically placed pawn.

"Friend, huh?" Goldfurt laughed and the others joined in, too. "Well, I suppose it's true. They do call dogs man's best friend after all."

Geralt looked at Jaskier pleadingly. Normally, they'd leave at this point. With some people there was just no convincing them. They were far too lost in their bigotry.

But of course, they couldn't leave. This wasn't a random noble, this was Jaskier's family and they were their guests. They would have no other choice than to suffer through banquet and ball before they could mercifully leave.

“I do not appreciate that sort of joke,” Jaskier said, his right hand flexing nervously, while his left gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. “Geralt is my witcher. He's my friend, my sword, and shield, so I advise you to watch your mouth."

"Careful, Pankratz," Goldfurt said bemusedly. "Are you really willing to break my castle peace for a mutant?"

"Yes."

'Fuck.' He knew what would happen next. Next, he would have to drag a kicking and screaming bard out of town, followed by guards with halberds and peasants with pitchforks because the idiot punched another noble in the face.

He put his hand on his shoulder. It was all he could do to keep from grasping his flexing hand tightly. "My lord," he said quietly. "Jaskier—" That got his attention finally. He could deal with the reprimand later on. "It's been quite a day, don't you think? I'm sure your sisters and the children will be glad to retire to their chambers."

"You're right," Jaskier said hollowly. "Lord Goldfurt, I trust that you have quarters to offer for a band of weary travellers such as we are?"

"Of course we do, darling," Janina stated flatly and gestured for a servant to come over. "Lead my siblings to their chambers."

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief as they all slowly turned around to be led to their quarters—all except for Janina, whose husband had wrapped a tight arm around her waist and tried to kiss her despite her averting her face. At that moment, he almost felt pity for her.

They had made it almost to the door, when Goldfurt raised his voice again: "Oi, Pankratz! What about your pet? A rug in front of the fireplace will do, I reckon?"

Geralt wanted to keep on walking, but Jaskier whipped around before he had even time to process the words fully. "No, it won't," Jaskier answered, each word ripping through the tension like lightning.

"What is it, Goldfurt? You flaunt your wealth for anyone to see, yet you are too stingy to provide my guest with a room for himself?"

"Don't be ridiculous.” The Count laughed, apparently oblivious to the unbridled fury he faced. “He's a witcher, his previous hosts were drowners and cockroaches, he'll be fi—"

"—And I shared them with him, so trust me when I say I'd prefer their company to yours at any time."

The Hall was quiet enough to hear a pinprick fall. Jaskier raised his head and squared his shoulders, every inch of him emanating that arrogant air of self-importance all of his peers shared.

"A room, Goldfurt,” he commanded. “That's all I ask."

With that he turned around and Geralt followed him. The rest of their party were visibly shaken, which meant that Jaskier had seriously trespassed on some unwritten rule. He didn't care. He knew Count Goldfurt was lucky the verbal slap in the face was all he got.

#my writing #of witchers bards and broken hearts #OWBABH #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #cirilla of cintra

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