#Geralt: what if he can't really no right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deandoesthingstome · 6 months

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Back to Reality - A Final Fantasy

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter x Reader

Summary: Go get your wolf, girl!

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v (missionary), fingering, monster fucking (right?).

A/N: A little angst never hurt anyone, right? It'll all be okay. I swear. I wanted to get this out the day after Geralt, but life. At any rate, I think this is it for now. A real nice end to spoopy season with Walter.

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

“Hi.”

He wasn’t right there when you turned from the counter after picking up your coffee, but he was standing close enough that there was no mistaking who he was greeting. Had he been any closer, you probably would have sloshed your latte all over his chunky, dark blue sweater and you were glad you stopped short when you saw him. You didn’t think he’d want to smell like pumpkin spice the rest of the day.

“Hi yourself,” you smiled, a little shyly.

When you asked at the front desk if they really meant anything, and then again if they could get a message to Walter, you had no idea he’d show up at your regular coffee shop the very same day. As in the day after the night you'd just been with another man. It wasn’t as awkward as you’d thought it might be, but it wasn’t exactly relaxed either.

You'd been dreaming of this moment, but now embarrassment began to creep in and you wondered if you'd made a mistake. Several of them. Four to be exact.

"Would you like to sit and talk with me?"

The urge to sink right to the floor in front of him was hard to resist but you were still at a coffee shop and people were lined up to grab their to-go orders so you found an empty table in a secluded corner and sat yourself down across from him.

His eyes were melancholy and you imagined they matched the lonely howl from your night with August. There was no mistaking it and you wanted to wipe the sorrow from his face but how could you? You were likely the cause and he was probably just here to tell you to forget it as a courtesy since you'd stupidly put your business on blast at the front desk. Fuck.

"You alright over there? You look a million miles away. You sure you're okay to talk with me?"

You took a deep breath and let it rush out.

"It's really nice of you to do this in person. A lot of guys would just not call."

"Not call? What are you...? What do you think is happening here?"

"I mean, you came to tell me to back off, right? Like, you're flattered and all, but you wouldn't, couldn't be with me after everyone I've been with. I mean, you worked with those guys."

"So you know I don't work there anymore. That was the first thing I wanted to say, so good. That's out of the way."

Why would he want you to know that? Maybe so you knew you could keep going back to the hotel and not have to worry about running into him? He continued.

"But why on earth do you think I'm here to tell you to back off?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow at you.

It was as if all the air was suddenly knocked out of you and it was all you could do to gather your wits to answer him.

"Well, I just thought...I mean, you can't possibly want someone who..."

"What? Someone who isn't afraid to go after what she wants?" Now both eyebrows raised.

"Walter. You can't mean that. You...I'm sorry but you don't look like someone who's super excited about the prospect."

He paused.

"I know I look tired. I am tired. I've been up nights trying to figure this out. But, look, my exhaustion is also not all about this. I left the hotel for a few reasons. One was you, but maybe not why you think."

"Well, why did you?"

"It's not ‘cause I fell hard, though I did. And you might think that made it difficult to keep hosting, and you'd be right. But honestly I got torn. Torn between knowing you were having the time of your life, which you absolutely deserve to do, and dealing with the taunting."

"Taunting?"

"Some of the guys figured out how I felt, and one of them started giving me shit about it. Betting me he could steal you from me if you ever made it to his room, not that you were even mine to begin with. And, yeah, feeling the way I do made it harder and harder to host properly so I made a decision."

"You left."

"I left."

You thought back to your night with August and now you knew for certain he was referring to Walter. And after what Geralt had said, you wondered why August gave you an option to shut him out. It sounded like August wanted Walt to see, to know you were being satisfied by another man. You could understand how that must have felt. You had jealous thoughts, too, when you found all Walt’s time slots had been booked. Imagining him with other women, well, it wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world either. And yet, Walter indicated there were other reasons he left.

"But that's not all?"

"I was also studying part time and between all the bookings, I was falling farther and farther behind. I had to stay up late to finish assignments and I had an important test coming, so I quit to focus on that because I never wanted to host forever, but once you came along, I never wanted to do it again."

You were speechless. Awestruck. If anyone had told you that Walter felt the same way about you from the get go, as you found yourself feeling about him after weeks of experiences, you would have said they were crazy. And yet, here he was, spilling his guts. He gave it all up without even knowing if he had a shot with you.

"And you don't care I went back? To other rooms?"

Walter looked around the coffee shop, then turned and spoke cautiously to you.

“Can we…? Look, I know we don’t really know each other, and if you want to do this in a public place, I get it. But could we at least take a walk? I feel like everyone’s looking at us and I can’t think straight.”

This man was flustered and you were, too. Confused by all the feelings and emotions and confessions. Plus, what did you really know about Walter anyway?

“I’m going to text some friends and let them know where I am and who I’m with. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. We’ll just head across the way to the park, okay?”

“I’ll be right out.”

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning sendmeanangel: we’re having coffee and talking in the park across from a place called The Runcible Spoon. sendmeanangel: I’ll text again in an hour so don’t expect any replies until then

Then you shut off your phone and headed out to meet Walter.

MNstrluvr: Ohmygodddd! darkgothnightengale: it’s all happening!!! Where are you now? darkgothnightengale: hello??? I know it’s only been 20 minutes but how can you not have just admitted your feelings and jumped his bones by now? Give us all the details!

You found him on a park bench and sat, one leg drawn up with a foot tucked under your other knee so you could turn to face him while you talked. You wanted him to reach out and touch you as well, run his hand over your arm while you talked, but maybe you weren’t there yet. Maybe that would be awkward.

He took a deep breath and began.

"As to your question from before: I can't lie and say I don't care or wish I'd told you that very night how I thought I was feeling, but I thought it was way too soon to trust those feelings. And since you didn't know, and we weren't together, how could I expect you to just not do what you wanted? That's something else that's kept me up at night. Thinking about how to reconcile my feelings about you with both our pasts.”

Walt went on to tell you how much your night together had affected him. How he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He apologized for the locker room talk. He knew Sy had mentioned it and he felt miserable about it. It was just something they did, share notes in case a guest came back around so they could make sure to work any of their favorite things into the stay. They weren’t usually so personal with the comments, but he’d gotten carried away.

August had been particularly prickish about it, especially when it became clear how uncomfortable talking about the guests was making Walter, even going so far as to taunt Walter with the exact date and time of your reservation in his room. He’d given notice the next day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You quit your job over me. Well, sorta. What are you going to do now?”

“I was already working towards my private investigator license. Ironic, huh? A PI and I couldn’t find the one person I really wanted. I asked the hotel, but they were not interested in breaking protocol or the privacy agreement. And until I got the call this morning, I thought I wasn’t on the best of terms with them anyway. I think I left them kinda high and dry. But the desk agent is a friend.”

“Yeah, Geralt mentioned something…” you trailed off, embarrassed to be bringing up your latest conquest.

“Who’s Geralt?” Of course he didn’t know.

“He’s a new host at the hotel,” you answered sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Walter looked away for a moment. “Of course.”

“Walter, I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings.”

“By going back there?” he turned to you again. “How could you know I had feelings to hurt?”

“Well, I knew I had feelings that hurt.”

He stared at you in disbelief as you continued.

“I thought about you almost every day after our night together. I kept going back to different rooms, because I’d had such a good time and I wanted to see what else was out there. And look, I did have good times. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“I hosted other guests after you. I can’t really say anything about it, can I?”

“Right. Okay, well. The more time that went by, the more hosts I met and experiences I had, the more I knew I only wanted you. And then I couldn’t find you.”

“Find me?”

“I tried to re-book your room for weeks. You were always full.”

“You tried… What?”

“I know it’s probably super odd for me to keep going back there the way I have been, and then admit that I also wanted to come back to your room. But it’s true. That’s what’s been happening.”

“I guess the only thing I can say to that is I’m flattered. And then to let you know that if you still feel that way, I’d love to take you out tonight. I’d love to stop talking about all this time we’ve lost and maybe see if we can move forward. Because it took me a while but I realize it doesn't matter either way. Whether you went back or not. You are your own person. You're allowed to experience life the way you want to. I'm just here hoping you want to experience it with me again."

sendmeanangel: okay, i’m back and still alive, but i need a shower. Gimme another hour. I’ll fill you in I swear! MNstrluvr: meana, where are you????? Did you already fuck him???

sendmeanangel: oh my god you guys are insane. It’s only been 45 minutes MNstrluvr: you can’t just drop that and run. You had to have to known we’d need more sooner sendmeanangel: i think i’m allowed to gather all the intel before i share it with you lol darkgothnightengale: you got your intel and then bailed for a shower! Boo! MNstrluvr: so what’s happening? Why are you stalling like this??? sendmeanangel: he’s taking me out on a real, honest-to-goodness date tonight MNstrluvr: YES!!! Where are you going? sendmeanangel: dinner and then a moonlight walk darkgothnightengale: isn’t it a full moon tonight? sendmeanangel: yep ;) MNstrluvr: you are so getting fucked outdoors!! sendmeanangel: Wait someone's at the door. I think it’s my lunch. Hold on. MNstrluvr: send them away and come back to finish this talk!!!

"Walt? What're you...?" you spoke with surprise, thinking he wouldn't be here to pick you up for dinner for another five hours at least. It had only been one since you gave him your address and left him at the park, floating home on cloud nine. Now he stood in front of you, a bag of food in his hand.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I had to just...can I...?" Walter dropped the bag and made a motion, hands out in something like a plea, knee beginning to bend with something like reverence. Nothing you understood until you nodded your head.

He stepped forward then, into your space, your tiny studio apartment that until now was always just fine for your needs but suddenly seemed three sizes too small for the man who was bending to kiss you and wrap his arms around your thighs, urging you to encircle his waist with your legs as he moved to kick the door closed behind him.

Your fingers tangled in his gorgeous locks as you relished the feel of his lips on yours once more. You'd only experienced that two times with Walter at the hotel, and the urgency of only one of those came even close to the feel of this one, and you suddenly wondered if he'd held something back when he kissed you goodbye back then. The euphoria blinded you to any other movement until you felt your body peeled from his and deposited on your sofa. And not that you minded couch sex, as previously confirmed with Mike, nor were you assured in the moment that couch sex was the end goal, but you wondered briefly when you'd have a moment to help him unfold the futon, since your studio only had enough room for a convertible bed.

For now, Walter simply slipped down to the floor and settled between your thighs, braced his arms tightly against your hips, caressed the bare skin between your shirt and pants with his rough hands, and nuzzled his face into your stomach. You held him close, hands still shifting through his curls and you could swear you heard a whimper, but whether from you or him it didn't seem to matter.

For a few beats, it was just this sweet. A man on his knees before you, somehow awed by your presence and content to be pressed against you, to feel you hold him close. And then it was more. Then it was his mouth, covering a clothed breast with warmth, teeth nipping at the flesh through your shirt, his tongue leaving saliva on the fabric so that it clung to your erect nipple protruding proudly regardless of your bra and top in the way.

When he noticed you staring down, as if surprised by your body’s own response, he simply smirked and moved his attention to the other side. When he tired of the barrier, he slipped his hands up your back under your shirt to unhook your bra, then lifted both articles of clothing up your body and pulled them off your arms, before returning his attention back to your chest and his hands to your hips.

Heat was building, and along with it, an urge to roll up into him. When he felt the movements of your hips, he drew a hand over one thigh to cup it against your clothed sex as he peeled his head back to gaze up at you.

"Just as eager as I am," he grinned. "I like that."

"Please, Walter," you begged, though for what exactly you weren't sure.

"I got you," he emphasized with a firm press of the heel of his palm, dragging it up and over your increasingly sensitive nub to hook his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. At your approval, he removed them and settled back between your legs, though he nuzzled a little lower than before.

He dragged you down, pulling your ass off the edge of the futon so he had a clear path to his objective. You expected him to dive right in, hoping he remembered what he already learned from before, and then he spoke and your mind exploded.

"Such a delightful sight," he said, tracing down the crease of one thigh and up the other with a finger you desperately wanted him to dip inside you. And he could tell. "She's so eager, positively dripping, isn't she?" He squeezed an inside thigh, then nipped and licked the other before speaking again.

"Yes, Walter. Please," you gasped, already anticipating the sensations he was going to create for you. You shuddered and bucked involuntarily at his low chuckle, putting your pussy directly against his lips and he didn't try to resist any longer.

His hunger was apparent, and it matched the desire building in you. He lapped eagerly, licked and sucked with need, tongued expertly at all the spots he already knew were favorites and then he found a few more, too. You tried to hold onto a fleeting thought about his technique before it drifted into the air above you as you found your fingers back in his hair, clutching and pulling him close to your core. Walter feasted like there was no tomorrow and you closed your eyes with the knowledge you were going to have as many tomorrows with this man as you wanted.

When you came it was with the cry of his name on your lips. He crawled up off the floor to settle on the futon beside you, scooping you onto his lap and hugging you close to help steady you.

He placed kisses on your forehead and spoke words into the consciousness you struggled to maintain as your chest heaved. "Shh, I got you. You're good. So good. So beautiful."

"Walter, that was..., jesus..., fuck...," you stammered, barely able to control your thoughts and you wished you could have sunk into the ground below you when you heard the next words out of your mouth. "Did Sy give you pointers?"

Walter's immediate laugh was hearty and heartwarming, dispelling the thoughts you had that you deserved to be tossed across the room for even daring to bring it up.

"I've always known clients prefer him for that over any of the rest of us. I took him out for beers one night and I may have begged for a trick or five. Sy's a good guy and he thought you deserved it, though I'm sure he never would have agreed if he thought I was coming back to the hotel." Walt bent to capture your lips and when he was done kissing you hard and deep, he spoke again. "I do, too. Think you deserve it."

"What about you?" you asked, aware now of a hardness pressing against your flesh through his pants. "Don't you deserve more, too?"

You wiggled off his lap and stood, hand out to urge him up. You swallowed hard as he towered over you, eyes full of desire and lust.

"I deserve whatever you're willing to give me."

"I'll give you everything, Walt," you admitted, fingers already working the buckle of his belt and buttons of his pants.

His lips crashed to yours as soon as he tossed his sweater to the floor and he held you entranced with his tongue even after you dropped his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. It was just a low growl but the sound from the back of his throat was enough to send a wave of slick down your thigh as you clenched around the space where you most desired him to be.

"Fuck, Walter," you gasped into his mouth and begged. "Fuck me, please."

It was a mad dash to remove his boots so he could discard his pants, though not before he grabbed the made-just-for-him condoms from the pocket, and then unfold the futon for a larger surface area on which he could move you around and manipulate your passion. It was no plush cabin bed, but it would have to do.

"Fuck, I wanted this outside tonight," he admitted, staring at you as he rutted into your core with abandon.

"It's a full moon tonight," you noted, as if he wouldn’t already know that.

"I still wanna fuck you under it," he growled, staring deep into your eyes.

You were losing control, falling up through space and time as you felt every inch of him against every inch of you and it still wasn't enough. You couldn't stop your eyes from closing as you begged him for more.

"Hey," he called, lifting your leg around his waist and when you opened your eyes you saw him smile as you wrapped your other leg the same way without prodding from him. You were mesmerized by the motion of his hips and barely caught the glint, a hint of change to amber, but you did.

“No!” He stilled immediately but you held on as he tried to withdraw from you. “No, stay with me, here just like this. We can do that again, later, whenever. Just,” you drew a hand to cup his face, “please. Like this. Like you. Just you.” You kissed him deep and rolled your hips to spur him on again.

You were prepared to feel less full, less fucked, though not by much, with Walter in human form. You were not prepared for the way he fucked you to feel just as animalistic as the monster. His assault was merciless, even as he grunted in your ear all the ways he was going to make you his. How he planned to take you softly in the moonlight so you’d know it didn’t matter what form he was in, you could have him any way you wanted.

When you finally came apart for him, he let loose with a loud growl and you were sure your neighbors were gonna call the landlord any minute. He hurried back to your side after disposing of the spent condom, curling around you and melting you in his warmth.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” he asked. “I still wanna take you to dinner, but I’d love to just stay here with you for awhile. If that’s okay?”

You were about to answer him, but your returning senses also meant you could hear the buzzing vibrations of notifications on your phone. Shit!

“Uh, no. I don’t have to be anywhere. Maybe you could grab that bag you left outside and we can see what else I can scrounge up for us to eat right now?”

You grabbed your phone as he peeled open the door, careful to tuck himself behind it as he grabbed for the food, lest a neighbor get a view they didn’t pay for.

sendmeanangel: okay look. He’s here. Right now. Can’t talk. All good. MMNstrluvr: MEANA!!! darkgothnightengale: GIRL YOU BETTER SPILL SOON!

You found some chips and salsa and split your sandwich with Walt, not that it looked like nearly enough food to tide him over till dinner. But he didn’t seem to mind. The next few hours flew by as you both sought to learn as much about each other as you could as soon as possible.

He explained that the special skill he had only worked within the confines of a vortex, over which the hotel had been built. It’s why he couldn’t bend time to allow him to study and work and wonder about you without losing sleep somewhere along the way.

After a shower, and some shower head, and then another shower, Walter asked if he could take you somewhere special for dinner. Somewhere not in town. He let you send GPS coordinates to your online friends with the promise they wouldn’t send you any details of the location. He wanted it to be a surprise for you. They were only to use it if you didn’t check in after dinner and again in the morning and once more when you were back at your apartment.

The sun was just sinking low with a burst of evening color when Walt pulled up to the lakeside cabin. He helped you out of his truck, then grabbed your overnight bags and the groceries from the backseat. You couldn’t wait to see the place in the full daylight, but you could already tell it was magical.

An a-frame cabin with large windows faced the lake. An oversized wooden deck made up a large seating area and all around landing pad in front of the entrance. A set of side steps allowed access from the driveway, but along the full length of the deck three stairs led to a narrower mulched path that in turn led to a wooden dock out onto the lake. A seating area was visible there as well, though there were no chairs.

Walt let you in first, then followed and set the bags down before closing the door.

He must have noticed you still admiring the sunset out the windows.

"I can make it last."

You blinked and turned, curious about what he'd just offered.

"Are we in a vortex then?"

"Yes, I got lucky finding this spot. Don't own the place, yet, so I can't come out whenever I want, but I made sure tonight was free."

"And, I mean, no. It's beautiful but I'm really looking forward to the moon. Can you make that last?"

He bit his lip and nodded, letting a smile and glance drift to the floor, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe his luck.

"Yeah, I definitely can," he grinned at you before sweeping you into his arms. He kissed you hard and deep and you could feel the way he held back.

"Don't," you said, pulling away from the kiss so you could look him in the eye.

"Don't make it last?" he asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Don't hold back."

He did not. Every ounce of your clothing was on the floor next to his in what felt like a heartbeat. He was pawing at every inch of your body and you were enjoying it, the way he caressed you, held you, molded you to his form.

"Outside?"

"Won't matter," he huffed between kisses. "She's not up yet. Later. After dinner."

"Will you do it anyway?" you asked, and nodded earnestly when he asked if you were sure.

He again didn't waste a moment. One second he was Walter, the next he was the wolf and he was at your throat. Then down your body, then between your legs.

He made you come on his tongue at least three times before he presented his enormously hard member to you and helped you work your mouth around the tip.

You wanted so much more. You gave it your best shot. But he was huge. Larger than you recalled. When it was clear you'd need your hand to cover him completely, he licked your palms and wrapped your fingers around his length.

He pulled you off just as you finally found the right rhythm, the right pressure, the right speed.

"You're gonna make me come," he growled.

"Kinda the point, Walt," you grinned up at him. "C'mon, lemme..."

"You asked me not to hold back. Sorta assumed you meant the fucking."

"I meant don't..." you licked your lips. "Hold..." then your hand. "Back..." And with that, you took him back into your mouth and kept working him to climax.

You swallowed him down and glanced up, marveling at the way he shifted. The hair receded, though clearly not completely. The nose shortened, teeth shrunk, though a fang still peeked from his mouth as he panted for air. His stature gave back the extra inches balancing on the balls of his feet gained him. And with claws retracted back into his normally large hands, he reached to bring you to his feet before him.

After the kiss, you admitted, "I just figured the faster we finish dinner, the faster we can get to her."

His laugh never failed to make you feel safe and at home.

"That isn't how the moon rise works, but I appreciate the initiative."

She was just at the horizon of the mountain crest behind the cabin when Walt cleared the plates from the table. You started a quick, warm shower just to freshen up and welcomed him into your arms when he joined you.

Then he dried you off, handed you a flannel of his to wear, escorted you outside where he shifted on the way down the steps and led you to the end of the dock. You sat between his legs, back against his chest, and let the heat radiating from him keep you warm. You smelled the chill in the air you knew would lead to frost soon, but not tonight, not tomorrow.

She peered over the tree tops and cast her gaze upon you. You felt her power and you felt his power and you arched against him as he moved his hand between your legs. He nuzzled down your neck, nipped at your shoulder, and carefully, with precision, made you come on his hand.

As you recovered, you unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off your body, and laid it down behind you. You made your way to your back, letting the flannel shield your bare skin from the hard wood planks. And you pulled him to you, urged him inside you, and held him close. Your bodies moved in tandem as she shone brightly across the gentle rippling of the water, her reflection casting you in her glow.

Walt didn't lie about taking you gently. It was like nothing you ever imagined being with a wolf would be like. As sensual as any touch any man or monster had ever given you, and given your recent adventures, that was saying a lot.

But you could tell he was still holding back.

"I get it Walt," you whispered in his ear. "This doesn't have to be the way you say it though." You smoothed the fur along his face as he pulled back to watch your face. "Don't hold back."

With a snarl, he did as you bid, taking you apart as he had back at your place just mere hours ago. Though once the moon reached her peak, you could tell he'd halted time and it was gonna have to be you to beg him for mercy, plead with him to stop treating you to the most intense, overpowering yet intimate orgasms you'd ever felt. You had to urge him to finally come and let the moon fall how she wanted.

"I love you, too," you whispered to him as he collapsed beside you.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS header created for me by my wonderful friend in fic, @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

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#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfic #werewolf!walter #werewolf!walter marshall #werewolf!walter x reader #werewolf!walter marshall x reader #spoopy season #back to reality #fantasy hotel #mine #deandoesthingstome

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on-a-lucky-tide · 4 months

Text

A young, horny Lambert sets his sights on an older hunk of Witcher beef. CW: age gap, flirtation.

"I'm going for it."

"Lambert, don't be a fucking idiot. They'll laugh at you."

"They might, but he won't. You miss all the chances you don't take, right?"

"Your funeral."

Lambert licked his lips and smoothed his hair back as he stood. He hadn't torn his eyes away from his mark for a single second since said man had swaggered into the hall a few hours before. This was the winter he'd do it. He was a man himself now, which meant he had every chance of bagging himself the hunk of good-lookin' he'd been coveting from the moment his dick had started getting hard at night and hair had appeared on his jaw.

Eskel.

It wasn't just that Eskel had two decades on Lambert or that he was becoming a seasoned witcher. No other Witcher in the keep compared. Sure, some tried. They might step toe to toe during drills or try to outflame Eskel's igni, but they never could. The only one that outmatched Eskel was his pale shadow, Geralt. They even looked a little similar. But cream puff was a fucking bean pole of a man, and that shitty headband...

N'aw, Lambert wanted big. He wanted heat, and honey eyes, and that thatch of dark hair he'd seen on Eskel's barrelled chest in the baths, and that huge fucking d--

"You lost, Lambert?"

Lambert blinked. Gweld, the ginger prick, was frowning at him, ale tankard halfway up to his mouth. The others had paused their card game; Clovis looked drunk, Geralt was slouched back trying to see Clovis' hand and Eskel was watching Lambert speculatively.

Watching, with those honey-coloured eyes that turned Lambert inside out. The words caught in Lambert's throat; shit, fuck, why was he so fuckin' stupid the moment Eskel looked at him?

He took a breath, conscious of Clovis elbowing Gweld with a chuckle, while Geralt looked over with a smirk.

Lambert found his words. He folded his arms, thrust his chest out, widened his stance and put on his best cocky smirk. "Was just wonderin' whether Eskel wanted some better company. You losers can't handle your beer at the best of times."

They laughed. Gweld elbowed Eskel who cocked a half smile, eyes rolling not at Lambert, but his friends, proving Lambert's point. Obviously.

"Is that right?" Geralt asked, amusement turning his narrow face bright with a toothy grin. Lambert had been told that as witchers matured they honed their sense of smell, could identify a man's emotions from his body language, the flush in his skin. Lambert knew Geralt had him sussed. "And what kinda company are you offering?"

"Geralt..." Eskel growled in warning, and it went straight to Lambert's groin. Fucking hells.

"Whatever he wants. I'm a man of many talents."

More laughter--"little man has game, shit; fuck, I'm chokin, too funny"--but Lambert wasn't put off. Eskel's eyes were on him, warming him like the sun. The lines around those eyes were wrinkled with mirth, and damn if that smile wasn't snatching the breath right out of Lambert's chest.

"Does your master know you're out?" Eskel asked, placing his cards face down. He leaned back in his chair and slung his elbow onto the back of it, knee turned out while a hand tapped at his drink.

Lambert tried to keep his eyes level and resist the urge to... look. Eskel's codpiece put on an absolutely fucking heroic effort, but it could only hide so much and that was when Eskel was soft. "What he don't know can't hurt him. No business of his who else is in my bed as long as I am."

Eskel pressed his lips together to smother his smile while the others guffawed. More was said but Lambert didn't really hear; he was too focused on keeping his heart from beating out his chest and appearing suave.

Eskel hummed. "Aren't you a little young to be lookin' for that kinda fun?"

"Worried you won't be able to keep up, old man?" Lambert felt momentum. He could do snark, he could meet Eskel on this well worn ground, toe to toe, and the way Eskel's head tilted to the side and his eyebrow rose. It wasn't a no, right? He looked interested. Amused, but he didn't dismiss Lambert outright.

Gweld slapped Eskel on the shoulder with a bark. "Eskel here's got stories that'd make your balls shrivel up into yer belly, lad. I don't think he's a good choice for yer first ride, best drop your ambitions."

"Fuck off, Gweld," Eskel said, but there was no heat to his words. Just wry amusement.

Geralt snorted into his drink and Clovis made a vulgar gesture with his hand, but before Lambert could respond a familiar voice barked through the hall and sucked all the building sexual tension into a vacuum. "Lambert, get your arse to bed, you missed roll call!"

Lambert clenched his teeth, shoulders lifting towards his ears. For fuck's sake...

Three of the witchers in front of him groaned in mock empathy. "Oof, tough break, Lambino. Cock blocked by Vesemir," Gweld said, shaking his head while Geralt and Clovis snickered. "Don't worry, we've all been there. Ain't that right, Gerbear?"

Geralt guffawed in protest and smacked Gweld on the shoulder. It quickly devolved into a wrestling match on the floor, one which Gweld was definitely going to lose. Eskel watched them briefly before he looked back at Lambert. "Another time perhaps," he said, toasting Lambert with his ale. "G'wan, before he decides the target dummies are a little light on straw."

Lambert grunted, frustrated, but stalked away. He'd made inroads, and the way Eskel's eyes had shone, and that crooked grin. Eskel hadn't outright rejected him, hells, he'd--well, that smile... Eskel didn't smile at everyone like that.

Lambert laid in bed with that smile behind his eyes and a hand under the sheets, determined that it would be Eskel's instead of his own by winter's end.

#the witcher #tw3 #witcher eskel #witcher lambert #if you know what song inspired this you know

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spielzeugkaiser · 10 months

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I have seen S3!! It cost me dearly (oh god my sleep schedule and body) but I'm so glad I did because I LOVED IT. so much!! I didn't know they had it in them but aaaaaaaa. Spoilers under the cut!

- I loved the relationships. I LOVED THEM. I could come on board with Geralt-Yen, I really enjoyed both Geralt-Ciri and Yen-Ciri (she's her mum 😭) and Ciri-Jaskier was everything I ever wanted. There were other things happening this season (👀) but that was the absolute highlight for me + Geralt actually showing that he cares for Jaskier and their relationship f i n a l l y being portrayed as the deep and meaningful friendship/bond that it is. I watch the witcher for a lot of reasons but mostly for the found family and VINDICATION aaaaa

- this was such a good Jaskier season, my love, me eternal light, the reason why I fell in love with this show - he had a PLOT, he had his wits, he had agency, he's still so anxious but was there as bait (they!! adressed his trauma in the little ways!) and I love that they went the route of Jaskier telling Geralt about Phillippa, honestly guys, I can die happy now, especially with-

- BI BARD BI BARD BI BARD BI BARD (nearly everything has been said about this, just. This fuels me. I needed this so bad, t h a n k you netflix for going through with what you started in S1). I can't shake the feeling that things are going to end quite badly but then I also. like to whump the bard. sooo, if I end up right.. 👀

- I might have sniffed a little when they made Geralt cry because he didn't want his mum to hurt?? Don't do this to me I am not strong enough, that got me. That really got me.

- Geralt might have murdered some people this seasons (and was SO DOWN to kill Stregebor, I crackled, I love himmmmm) but he was such a good moral compass for Ciri this season? Had so much integrity? Did they actually manage to keep him of his path of neutrality? WISE MAN GERALT? EMOTIONAL DEPTH GERALT??

- Ciri really grew on me this season! They really did her good

- Yen didn't need to grow on me, but ohhhh SHE DID. I loved her storyline. I loved her introspection - family goat Geralt I am crying

- the costumes were not perfect but honestly most of the time they were slaying and Geralts armour is now sooo much better, I'd say, improvements there too!

- black horsie is a Roach too (with subtitles on) I can forgive them

- Otto out there with the plague of '21 ??? Brooooooooo

- Fringilla absolutely deserves to live her best life, yes queen. Also Cahirs first little breakdown??

- so many book scenes I enjoyed gosh YES. I already said that but the Jaskier&Ciri one guys I melted-

- the pacing felt at times a little weird? With weird interceptions of scenes at times, like the wild hunt one at the end of episode 3(?). But that was just a minor thing that made me go. Hmm? 🤨

- I LOVE THAT VALDO IS JUST A GUY. He is just a guy! A funny little man that sings the equivalent of medieval, sappy, cliched boyband songs about love, ppfpfpf. Jaskier you PETTY bitch it's like wanting the Taylor Swift of the continent to die and I love him for it - this is the first season that I could just. watch again? right after finishing??? what a quality improvement!!

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #the witcher spoilers #the witcher season 3

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 2 years

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After they've started fucking but before any realisations or grand confessions happen, Geralt and Jaskier get captured by a wizard, who hits Geralt with a classic true love curse that's supposed to turn him into a huge snarly wolfbeast after sunset but actually turns him into a pretty friendly and totally adorable dog.

They decide, welp, that was kind of a Shitty Wizard, can't even get his spells right, and (not knowing what the spell actually is) head off to find someone to reverse it leaving the wizard going what the fuck why didn't that work what the fuck--

And it's not really that bad, aside from the fact that Geralt can no longer take contracts that happen at night and dog!Geralt is kinda slobbery and soppy, especially around Jaskier, which is - frankly - embarrassing, and their night-time rendezvous are now midday to late afternoon rendezvous, which is fine (and fun, learning a lot about which patches of dirt are actually ants' nests) but it's easier when they've got a room in an inn you know--

Anyway, it takes a month of Geralt turning at night before Jaskier jokingly slips out an "I love you too" when dog!Geralt is snuggling on him and he's suddenly got a lap full of very confused witcher.

It probably takes them, like, an hour to work out what happened and then Geralt feels very very bad for not immediately saying it back (but, to be fair, he really did think it was just a joke)

#geraskier #the witcher #not me taking ideas for one ship and just throwing them at geraskier bcos there's less risk involved #certainly not #dont look at me

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artistsfuneral · 1 year

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Crushes

"Oh my," Jaskier chuckles quietly from where he's sitting across from Geralt in one of the big chairs by the hearth. Immediately alert - because Jaskier is never quiet about anything - Geralt looks up at the bard. He follows his friend's gaze to Coen and Ciri at the other end of the great hall. They're doing nothing out of the ordinary as far as he can tell; The griffin is outwardly relaxed, listening to Ciri's enthusiastic chattering with an idle smile on his lips.

Grunting in hope of an explanation, Geralt returns his focus on Jaskier who seems to be beaming with a mix of glee and something other the witcher can't point. "It seems," Jaskier answers the unasked question with his voice hushed, "that our favorite princess is harboring a little crush."

He doesn't know what to feel as his head whips around back to his daughter and one of his closest friends. Denial at first, because surely Jaskier is wrong about this. There's no way it's true, right? Followed by the horrible possibility of Jaskier being correct about it. Geralt gulps audibly.

Judging by the way Coen suddenly looks paler than before, the griffin has very much listened in on their conversation and is now rethinking his life choices. Good, Geralt says to himself. Ciri stays blissfully unaware.

"Now, now, don't look so shocked, Papa Wolf." Said shock might be the only thing keeping Geralt from knocking Jaskier off his seat for the usage of the forbidden nickname. "It's a perfectly normal thing for a young girl to develop a crush or two. And I mean look at Coen-dear, he's quite a catch, isn't he? Tall, pretty, well-mannered and kind. I can't say I'm surprised," Jaskier goes on, either just as blissfully unaware or gracefully ignoring that Coen could hear every single whispered word.

"How can you be so sure? It's not like she ever said anything," Geralt argues in the hopes of being able to hold onto his denial. (He denies that too.) Jaskier hides a laugh, "Of course she wouldn't say anything, especially not to her Dad. It is fairly obvious though, I'm afraid. Isn't she spending more time with him than usually? She's constantly chattering him up, trying to figure out his likes, dislikes and special interests. Tries really hard to impress him during these conversations and training. Look at her, the way she's beaming every time Coen-dear smiles at her. It's adorable."

Geralt still doesn't know how to feel about all of this. The worst part of it is, that the bard is making a horrible lot of sense. Geralt - who just started to enjoy his fatherhood - is in no way prepared for this, he realizes. "But isn't he too-" old? He doesn't finish the sentence.

The bard returns his concerned look with a soft smile. "Of course, but that's completely normal too. She just realized for the first time that Coen-dear is a great man. He is incredibly talented in the same skills she wants to learn, he is kind to her and rather good-looking. It's the perfect combination for a crush." Geralt is almost afraid to hear the answer of his next question, "What do we do?" Across the hall Coen visibly straightens, mentally preparing himself to jump out of the next window. Meanwhile Jaskier looks at Geralt like he just bit into a broom. "Do? We're doing absolutely nothing. It's a crush. It'll go away in a few weeks. As long as Coen-dear doesn't do anything stupid." The last part Jaskier voices with a sharp edge, definitely addressed to the griffin. "If he simply acts like he normally does, nothing will happen and we can peacefully watch Ciri blush and stumble over herself. Geralt, my dear, I didn't tell you so you can make a battle plan. I just thought it was adorable and wanted to share that with you."

Nothing happens for a moment and then Geralt and Coen visibly deflate with relief. Across the hall, little Ciri places her hands on her hips and huffs at the griffin. "Are you even listening to me?" She asks, lips forming a royal pout that worked like magic back in Cintra. In Kaer Morhen it's not different. "Of course, princess, please go on." The smile on Coen's face is warm and adoring. Maybe, one day - he decides silently - when Ciri is all grown up and a witcher undoubtedly much stronger than him, he will tease her about her crush. For now he just lets her be a kid.

Jaskier grins knowingly and waves his hand in the air, addressing Geralt once more. "If that's been a shock to you, just wait a year or two for her first rebellion. I bet 100 crowns she'll fall for Lambert."

No, Geralt thinks. Not if Lambert is conveniently locked up in the basement.

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri of cintra #witcher coen #witcher

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cherryjuicegf · 1 year

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"You've been crying."

Jaskier laughs as Geralt sits beside him on the pebbles and raises his eyebrows, not looking at him still. "Now you can tell the salt of tears from that of the sea too?"

A light hum. "Always could."

A red ray escapes the setting sun and hits the waves, making the tears in his eyes melt as they mirror it. He sniffles and wipes at the trails his previous crying had pathed on his cheeks, and puts on a brave smile. Not really a smile. A curve of lips, at least, because Geralt is here now, the warmth of his body resembling a lit hearth, and it's a kind of comfort. Always has been.

Except. Geralt is staring at him.

Geralt is waiting.

And it's nothing, it really is. Jaskier likes to convince himself it is trivial, because how else could he mend a broken heart, if not with lies. The truth just seems too far out of reach.

But maybe now he is tired. And maybe in another time he wouldn't talk about it, he would only smile wider but now Geralt's stare is so gentle, and his eyes so safe like the sun on a spring's day.

"I feel like I've been missing, you know," he says at last and looks at him straight, soft, because Geralt really does know. "On love. And it's been too long."

What Geralt doesn't know, perhaps, is the way his heart clenches inside his chest and curls on itself like a child punished in the corner. So he frowns. "You? Jaskier, you can have anyone you want. I've seen you." Then, a smile, almost fond. "You fall in love with everyone."

Everyone, everyone. Anyone. Anyone there is. Anyone who looks like maybe, maybe, they will stay, or he is just too careless at this point that he tries anyway. A heart that never has too much. He knows they won't stay. And he knows the one who will stays for a different reason. So, so close.

He smiles, bittersweet, and lowers his look. "Yes, indeed. Everyone." Everyone, she sent a letter today. Never to meet again, never to be seen. Jaskier shakes his head. "And me? Who of all them has fallen in love with me, Geralt?" As if to answer his question, a seabird cries along. The sea, too, a cruel mistress. His voice quivers. "I feel like a desperate dog chasing love, while running from it all the same."

With the corner of his eye he sees Geralt parting his lips and a fake hope blooms in his chest, fading at once when he holds back, and stays silent. And he can only bask in the imagined possibility of what he intended to say.

The tears are done with him now. Only numbness remains.

Eventually, Geralt speaks. "If it is any helpful, no one has ever been in love with me either." The lightness in his voice sounds exactly like the pained strings mending Jaskier’s heart.

But oh, what a foolish man. Jaskier can't help but smile and turn at him, and for a bit he remembers that lonely as it is, he can't stop loving. "Well, that's just not true. I'm in love with you."

As though he doesn't know, as though it's not as simple as it was uttered, Geralt flinches. Jaskier chuckles and averts his gaze again, a little happier than before. Love, it is simple. It's what he does.

Just not something that happens to him.

"Well, then," he hears after some moments, "that makes us even."

He laughs before he thinks. "It does?" And then.

His head spins at once, eyes wide as they meet Geralt's, almost afraid. No, not afraid. Unbelieving. It's been so long, you see. But Geralt only rolls his eyes, oh so fondly, and before Jaskier manages to splutter any words sweet lips are on his, and a hand holding his nape. And it's not like other times. Not like everyone else. It's certain and terrifying and deep like a promise, like two stray roots finding each other through the earth and keeping their living hearts bound forever. Like what he has been craving for so long he forgot he may one day have it. Like Geralt.

And then, as though to seal it, this promise, Geralt pulls back and looks at him like he always does and Jaskier wonders, wonders how this that he never caught stands right here, catching itself. Geralt smiles, voice soft as a feather. "I'm in love with you, Jaskier." And that's it. Simple as that.

His eyes are burning again and Jaskier can only nod, and smile back. And it's almost funny, almost tender how love happens to be so close, so close he can taste its kiss without even trying, just for once.

Just for once, how love happens to him.

#pots and pans i think love is something that happens to other people by michael gray sobbing weeping #the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #chrysa writes #i'm as surprised as you are friends #fic recs #fluff #anyway how about this. loving the unloved

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jay-arts-t · 10 months

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Sometimes I just like to think about what it could've been if Geralt had gotten Ciri right after Pavetta and Duny died. If Calanthe was so weighed down by grief she realizes she can't take care of Ciri. So she orders Moussack to go find Geralt to collect Ciri. Imagining Geralt in a random tavern somewhere in Temeria, slowly making his way up to Kaer Morhen for the winter as autumn is approaching. Him having a gut feeling he should head up early, he thinks it's because something is wrong with Vesemir so he's anxious to make it through. But Roach needs to rest and well, it wouldn't hurt to get some extra supplies for the winter. Certainly wouldn't hurt to get some extra booze so he has relief from Lambert's grating voice on his ears. Besides, he and Eskel can stay up late and drink to their hearts content up in his room like they used to sneak around when they were teens.

Then out of the blue he sees Moussack, and dread fills his entire body. He doesn't keep up with news outside of what Dandelion tells him. So when Moussack is telling him Calanthe is summoning him he's thinking "oh fuck, she's changed her mind and is going to execute me."

But Moussack reassures him he's not going to be harmed. Calanthe is asking for him because of his child surprise. And now Geralt is really worried. What happened to them? Are they okay? Are they hurt? Did they die? They're only a few months old, there's so much that could've gone wrong. So he agrees to go with Moussack.

Calanthe looks a mess when Geralt sees her. Eist is by her side as always, trying to comfort her. Pavetta and Duny are nowhere in sight and it's making Geralt extremely antsy. Calanthe tells him the news, her voice is hoarse from all the crying she's been doing. Geralt sympathizes with them, gives them his condolences. And then that's when he realizes "oh. OH. OH NO". Sure enough Calanthe tells him she can't take care of herself, how could she care for a baby. Geralt refutes telling her "they're your grandchild, I don't want to rip them away-" and Calanthe tells him then it's a girl. And for a split second his brain gives the helpful thought of "oh I have a daughter" and Geralt is having an internal meltdown right there in the throne room. But he can't refuse. His entire basis for not coming back and claiming her is because she has a family who cares about her. But now that family is saying that they can't care for her, not because they don't love her, but because they do. So Geralt agrees to take her.

The first time he meets her he is entirely captivated by how small and precious she is. The moment he holds her he feels overwhelmed with such a fierce protectiveness and he can't help but absolutely adore her. He is trying so hard to stay stoic and unemotional but the moment he's alone with Ciri back in that old tavern he'd been at he just holds her and smiles. If he'd been a normal man, he probably would've burst into tears by how happy he was. (he did later once she got settled into Kaer Morhen, when he and Eskel did end up drinking up in his room. They're talking about the usual things, and then he looked over to her in her makeshift crib and just started bawling. Eskel freaks out and asks him what's wrong and he replies "I just love her so much."... Yes Eskel teared up.)

Then he has to go through the lovely moments of "how the fuck do you raise a baby" which Vesemir watches with so much amusement. Geralt raided most of Kaer Morhen's library and Nenneke's office for books about parenting. (Kaer Morhen has none, unsurprisingly.) He eventually asks Eskel to go to Oxenfurt and grab Dandelion and any books about parenting, childhood development, psychology and women's health he can find. (He is DREADING eventually having The Talk with Ciri but he won't be unprepared.) Dandelion is completely awestruck with Kaer Morhen of course however, nothing shocks him more than seeing Geralt looking bone tired with a 5 month old baby wailing in his arms, trying to soothe her.

"uh... What ya got there, Geralt?"

"H e l p."

Where's Yennefer? What about Yennefer?? Geralt is hesitant at first to even tell Yennefer he has a kid. But she sends him a letter one day, asking him where he is now that it's coming up on spring. (Ciri's first bday!!! Yay!!!! Also oh gods planning a birthday?!?!?!?? That's a thing??????) So he does tell her, and she understandably to her character demands to see this child surprise. So again, sends Eskel on out (pls Geralt, he's your childhood best friend, not your errand boy.) to go get Yennefer. Yennefer storms through the main hall, not even acknowledging Lambert and Vesemir, and right up to Geralt. How did she manage to find her way through the halls without ever being there before? Geralt doesn't know and he's scared by it. Yennefer spots Ciri, who's doing her tummy time. To which she's very fussy about and gives the nastiest glares an almost 1 year old can to her father. Yennefer is absolutely gobsmacked that Geralt was being genuine. She points to Ciri, then to Geralt, then back to Ciri, to Geralt.

"YOU?????? HOW????"

"I'm really bad at making jokes."

Yennefer adores Ciri, but Ciri is a little skeptical of her. Who is this strange woman????? Where is her dad?????? Where's her other dad (Dandelion)???? How dare she smell nice and be warm???? Ugh as if she'd let her feed her!!! No way! Yennefer is always completely drenched with baby food whenever she attempts to feed Ciri. Geralt tries so hard not to laugh at her. Ciri is absolutely seething by the end of it and is only contained when Geralt picks her up and holds her securely. Then it's like little devil Ciri never existed, she's all smiles and babbling happily to her dad. Yennefer gets really disheartened over it. Late at night she ends up crying over it, thinking it wouldn't matter if she was able to have kids or not; Ciri proves she'd be a horrible mother anyway. Geralt doesn't know what to say at first, but he knows it's not true. Yennefer is trying her best, it's just that Ciri is really fussy. She even fusses sometimes when Dandelion holds her. He tries to comfort Yen, and ends up deciding the best thing to do is hold her and tell her that she's doing amazing. He doesn't think she believes him because she's still got a very somber look on her face the next day. She becomes reluctant to take up care of Ciri because of the incident. Well about after the third day of this Ciri gets fussy again. Geralt is taking a well deserved nap day. He's back in his room snoozing away. Yennefer and Dandelion are with Ciri in the library, one of the warmest places in the keep. Dandelion wipes his hands of the ink that stains them and picks her up and checks if she's soiled. She isn't, so he asks if she's hungry. She thrashes around in his hold and turns in search of Yennefer and starts grabbing towards her. So Dandelion hands her over to Yen. The moment Ciri's resting against Yennefer she settles down.

"huh, guess she just wanted her mommy." Dandelion comments and Yennefer starts crying. (Dandelion's face morphed from aww to OH FUCK)

The bigger Ciri gets the more rambunctious and energetic. Geralt couldn't be prouder that they're all raising her to be genuine to herself and that they've broken the generational trauma. Vesemir pats Geralt on the shoulder one day and tells him "I'm proud of you, Wolf" and damn, if that doesn't make him want to cry. He doesn't of course, only meeting Ciri made him cry from joy. And oh how she gives Lambert a run for his money. It's hilarious to see a 60-something year old argue with a 4 year old. They get into the most stupid arguments too. "blue is better than red!" Or "I'm taller than you" which is the most absurd because it's always Ciri who starts it. Geralt thinks it's because Lambert is the shortest besides Vesemir. But Vesemir has only become short due to his old age, and Ciri already gives him a hard time for that. ("Why are you so fat and old? Aren't you a Witcher like Daddy?" She said once and Vesemir just paused and looked at her like "why would you say that to me". She burst into a giggle fit at his crushed expression.)

The argument will always, without fail, go:

C: I'm taller than you.

L: no you're not? I'm 5'11!

C: well I'm 8 feet tall!!!!

L: more like 2 feet tall!

C: NO! SEE

Then she'll stand on the chair so she towers over Lambert.

L: fine well I'm older.

C: no??? My birthday is first

L: NO ITS NOT?

C: YEAH IT IS

L: NO APRIL IS BEFORE MAY. AND IM 67, YOU'RE 4

C: uhhhhh I hate to break it to you, but no you're not. You've been lied to your whole life.

L: W H AT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE????

C: uhmmmmm god.

Then when Coën finally meets one of the Wolves and comes up to Kaer Morhen he's shocked to see someone so young. At the time Ciri was around 7. She calls him ugly and walks away to the stables. Coën is just left flabbergasted while Lambert and Eskel are laughing their asses off. Geralt apologizes to him, while trying to hold in his laughter. Coën becomes like an older brother to Ciri, and he gets on her good side by helping her prank Lambert.

When Ciri hits 12 she does get her period, and Geralt is like "OH GOD OH FUCK HOW DO I TALK TO HER ABOUT THIS I DONT WANT TO MAKE IT-" and Yennefer walks into the room and goes "I told her, we're good."

Then comes the "boy talk" Where Ciri brought up that a character in a romance book was attractive and Geralt went into "No one is good enough for my baby girl" dad mode and brashly announced "you're not allowed to date boys until you're 21."

Yennefer slaps him on the arm and Ciri looks at him almost offended.

"jokes on you I don't even know if I LIKE boys. Maybe I just like this character's personality." She replies sassily. Geralt cannot argue with that logic. (And yes 2 months later, she goes on a day trip with Yen and talks to a girl her age. She comes back and Geralt asks her how it went and she says "I definitely like girls." And walks up to her room to take a nap. Geralt celebrates as soon as she leaves "YES!!! I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT SOME BRUTE MESSING WITH MY DAUGHTER FUCK YEAH" Yennefer reminds him that some women are just as bad and he crumples to the floor in agony. Now he has to worry about brutish women hurting his daughter.)

Essentially, I just love that Geralt has a daughter, and that he's so proud of her and loves her so much. Their relationship is just so 🥹❤️ I adore them.

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

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ooooh for the fake dating prompts: geraskier + #1? pretty please 💜

They were actually quite the good kisser, but they of course would never ever tell them that.

“We need a cover story,” Jaskier says. “If the Duchess thinks you’re here as a witcher, she’ll have her guards throw you out before you have time to get annoyed by all the people.”

Geralt wants to argue, but the bard actually has a good point. “I could pretend to be your bodyguard again. At a gathering this size, there have to be at least a few nobles there you’ve cuckolded.”

Jaskier wrinkles his nose, considering. “You showing up with swords might put her on her guard, whether you're here as a witcher or bodyguard."

“Then what do you suggest?” Geralt crosses his arms over the chest, scowling. After passing a couple of messages for the Redanian Secret Service, the bard thinks he’s some kind of mastermind at espionage.

Jaskier thinks for a moment, then brightens. “I know! You can come as my apprentice who is really my lover.”

“Why not just your apprentice?”

“Because no offense, Geralt, but no one is going to look at you and think you’re in training to become a bard. And gods help us if anyone asks you to sing. So it behooves us if they think that the only reason I keep you around is because of the service you provide to my instrument.” He wiggles his hips.

Geralt feels his lips twitch of their own volition. "Hm, not sure if we can pull that off."

“And whyever not?” Jaskier looks offended.

“If I’m your lover, you’d have to go at least three days without letting anyone else into your pants. Might kill you.”

“I can go three days without sex!” Jaskier plants his hands on his hips.

“Since when?”

“I went nearly two weeks without when we were traveling through Velen!”

“And you bitched the entire time.”

“I would have done that anyway. Velen is terrible.”

Geralt can’t argue with him there. “No one’s going to believe we’re really lovers.”

“Why not?”

"Because no one’s going to think that I’m the kind of person you take to bed," Geralt doesn’t say, thinking of the pretty barmaids and fancy nobles Jaskier normally pursues. Instead, he says, “There will be people you know there. They’ll have seen you with your lovers before.”

“And?” Jaskier arches an eyebrow.

Geralt searches for the right words for a moment. “When you’re sleeping with someone, you’re usually all over them. You can't keep your hands or your lips off them. It’s why you nearly get gelded for fucking the wrong person so often. You’re not subtle.”

Jaskier opens his mouth as if to argue, then closes it. “Then I suppose I’ll have to do that with you.”

Geralt snorts, skeptical.

“What?” Jaskier asks, taking a step closer. “You think it will be such a hardship, draping myself over you?”

The neck of Geralt’s armor feels a little too tight. Did he have it fitted wrong? “No one will buy it.”

Jaskier takes another step, moving into Geralt’s space. “Then we really should start practicing now.”

“I don’t need to practice,” Geralt growls. “I’m not a spotty youth who’s never held a girl’s hand before.”

Not that hand holding comes up much in his intimate encounters, but he’s not going to bring that up.

“Even the greatest master at his craft needs to keep his skills sharp.” Jaskier tilts his head to the side, studying Geralt’s face. “And you’re right. We’re only going to be able to sell this if we look like two people who are used to being intimate with each other. Kiss me.”

Geralt can’t quite school the surprise out of his face. “What?”

“Kiss me,” Jaskier says again. “Do you want to take the Duchess down or not?”

“Not sure how kissing you will help that.”

“We might need to kiss at some point to maintain our cover,” Jaskier says. “Best not to risk it, right?”

Geralt lets his gaze drop to Jaskier’s pink mouth. The bard’s lips have always been inconveniently pretty, especially when they’re parted in stunned offense or curled into a wicked smile. He almost says no, that he’ll figure out another way to get close to the Duchess. It’s best not to let Jaskier anywhere near a contract this dangerous anyway. Jaskier can go back to his succession of pretty lovers and Geralt can find and kill a monster, just like they always do.

He’s about to pull back when Jaskier seems to get tired of waiting for Geralt to make a move. Before Geralt can react, Jaskier’s lips are on his and suddenly, Geralt isn’t thinking about the Duchess or the contract anymore.

Jaskier’s lips are warm and soft against his, tasting of the wine they had with dinner. He doesn’t realize that he’s cupping Jaskier’s face in his hands until he registers the prickle of stubble against his palm. He slides one hand down, over the silky fabric of Jaskier’s doublet, warm from the bard’s body heat. Jaskier shivers as Geralt’s hand rests on his lower back.

Geralt drags Jaskier closer, breath hitching as Jaskier’s fingers tangle in his hair. He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat hammering and can practically taste the arousal in the air. It would be so easy to drag Jaskier the short distance to the bed, to lose himself in Jaskier’s taste and the feel of him and…

Jaskier pulls away, blinking up at Geralt with the dazed look of someone emerging from a deep sleep. For a moment, they stare at each other. Jaskier’s pretty mouth is swollen from kisses, a sight that sends something hot and possessive surging through Geralt’s belly.

Jaskier clears his throat and laughs, the sound more high-pitched than usual. “And you think we couldn’t pull it off!”

“Pull what off?” It takes Geralt a moment to remember why they were doing this in the first place. The Duchess. The contract. Right.

“Pretending to be two people who are intimately acquainted.” Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. “Now you won’t have to pretend to be unable to get enough of my lips.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “Sure, bard.”

“Oh, don’t lie to me. You have to admit, that was a damn good kiss.”

“I’ve had better,” Geralt lies.

Jaskier gasps, mouth falling open. It’s a sight that makes Geralt glad that his new armor has a codpiece. “Pure and utter slander! I’ve had it from reputable sources that I’m the finest kisser on this side of the Amell Mountains.”

“You know they’re paid to give you pretty compliments at the Passiflora, right?”

“Brute.” Jaskier pokes Geralt in the chest. “That’s a terrible thing to say to your pretend lover.”

“Forgive me,” Geralt says dryly. “I’ve never had a fake lover before.”

“And at this rate, you never will again.” Jaskier turns on his heel, nose in the air.

With the bard looking away, Geralt reaches up to touch his lips. He can still taste mulled wine and can still feel the warmth of soft pink lips against him. He’d like nothing more than to pull Jaskier close and lose himself in another one of those kisses.

But this is just pretend and Geralt can’t let Jaskier know the effect he has on him. So he wipes away the lingering taste of Jaskier with the back of his hand and goes to sharpen his sword. There’s a monster to kill, after all.

Fake dating prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Note

Can I get some hds of Geralt being possessive and protective when he sees his female lover being hit on in a tavern and then fucking her hard when they leave and get back to the room they're staying in for the night?

Oh you know just what to ask to get my writing brain started don't you Anon? I hope you enjoy these.

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, come marking, creampies, breeding kink, degradation, dirty talk, possessive Geralt, protective Geralt

A/N: I really think Geralt has the potential to be the most gentle lover and also absolutely break you.

Geralt doesn't get jealous often, he didn't think he'd get jealous at all

He tells himself that you can talk to whoever you want, after all you're a pretty friendly person and quite easy to talk to, one of the reasons Geralt was drawn to you also, despite his more quiet demeanor

However he just can't seem to stomach the way strangers blatantly, and sometimes drunkenly, leer at you, smirking your way and flirting with you

When one tries to touch you, a friendly touch all things considered but still a potential threat in Geralt's eyes, he almost breaks their hand in his grip

"You should be more careful darling, there are all kinds of perverts here. Not everyone has pure intentions. And when you're considered, hm, let's just say that even I have trouble keeping my head pure." He takes your hand in his and walks briskly though the streets, his other hand around your shoulders, keeping you close

His eyes keep finding yours as you walk, his lip nibbled on as he tries to contain himself until you're in the confines of the little room you rented at the local in

"You seemed to enjoy their attention. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get a rise out of me." He pulls you close and lets you feel how hard his cock is, "Well it worked. And now you're gonna take it. And I am not going to be gentle. You've been a bad girl sweetheart. You need a good, long, hard punishment."

Usually he takes his time with you, preparing you for him, however he's not interested in that tonight, he just wants to, needs to rail you fast and hard

Your clothes and undergarments are practically torn off and he throws you onto the bed, crawling on top of you and spreading your legs open

His eyes take notice of your flushed skin, your hard nipples, the way your pussy glistens with arousal, "Already so wet for me. It's for me isn't it. All for me. That's my hole to fuck. To sink my cock into whenever I want." He does just that, burying himself inside you in one long stroke, stretching you, the stinging sensation painful at first

"You take me so well. You enjoy being punished? You were behaving like a common town whore tonight, so I'm going to fuck you like one. Understood?" Geralt growls and snarls as his hips snap back and forth, his hands holding you still as he fucks you almost violently, making you lose yourself in pleasure that he's giving you

You close your legs around his hips and lock your ankles at the base of his back, allowing him to go harder, deeper

"Still acting like a whore then? Alright. Can you take my come like one too? I'll fill you up with it, and then you're going to walk back out there with it dripping down your thighs so they can all see who you belong to." He comes inside you, his seed warming you up from the inside, "I'm not done yet darling, you didn't finish yet, besides, I have a lot more to give you. See?"

Geralt lets you get on all fours in front of him, presenting yourself to him, you need him inside you again, you can't even describe how much you want him right now, how you want his cock and cum, his hands on you, his mouth all over you

And you bet that he delivers on all of that, he knows you well, knows what you need of him

He enjoys seeing you thrust into him, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock as he continues his relentless teasing

"I love seeing you like covered in my cum and craving more. Spread for me, and make sure you take every last drop." Oh you're more than ready to take it, however many times he wants, you're his to take, his to use

"I wanted to give you my cum all evening. It was this close to snapping and bending you over the table in the tavern, showing everyone who you belong to. Would you like that darling? Taking my cock in front of everyone there, letting them know they can't have you. Not now, not ever." The room would be full of the sounds of Geralt's growls, close to your ear, as his full balls slap against your skin

The moment he feels you clamping down on his cock he gives you another big load of cum, fucking you even harder , making a mess of your cunt, your thighs and as well as the sheets, "That's it. Every last drop. You're gonna look beautiful, so full of my seed."

He wouldn't stop until your whole body is shaking, your knees giving and you fall back on the bed, his arms around you, his teeth scraping your neck and shoulder, helping you relax after your orgasm

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt smut #the witcher smut #the witcher x female reader #geralt x female reader #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #afab reader

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 3 months

Text

Axes and O's

Masterlist

Part 1

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU)

Summary: Sy invited you and Walter to his family's cabin, where you get to spend a few days alone with them before the holidays.

Word count: 8250

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), very very soft!femdom (? Don't ask me how, really), near-safeword experience, still that astonishingly strong bromance, and polyam vibes.

A/N: Alright well, now, hello. Here we are with the sequel to "Don't knock it till you try it", where we make another very decent attempt to stuff every available hole with as much man as we can handle... No? Not the right kind of introduction? Alright well just read the damn thing, then, I guess?!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @winter2112rose @changenameno @wa-ni (I can't tag either of you, tumblr won't let me...)

There was something soothing about the predictability of the situation; you had asked the boys to turn the heat in the car up, they complained that it was already a sauna in there. It wasn’t. And you were freezing. You pulled the sleeve of your sweater up to show Sy the goosebumps on your arm, to which he responded by reluctantly turning the heat up a little bit.

“How can she be cold?” Walter grumbled from behind the wheel while Sy pulled his sweater over his head.

“Here,” Sy said, rolling his eyes, “in case your Majesty still isn’t warm enough.” He tossed the sweater at you, and you contently pulled it over your head. Walter’s sweater had been serving as a blanket for about an hour now, and with the addition of Sy’s, and the few extra degrees on the heater, you were finally comfortably warm.

“Good,” Walter mumbled, “because I’m not taking off anything else for you in this car.” It was the ‘in this car’ that made you chuckle.

“That’s a shame,” you said coyly, batting your eyelashes at him in the rearview mirror as you leaned over and put your arms around Sy’s neck. “Would you?”

He turned his head and sighed. “I have before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you got something in return,” Walter responded, “and I don’t think that’s happening today.” Oh, he was so fucking right about that… You’d freeze to death, even with him there.

The rest of the drive, you sat in the back, finally nice and warm to the point where you thought you might actually be able to fall asleep — and then all of that came to a very abrupt end when Sy had Walter pull over and he turned towards you, handing you a thermos.

“Here, sugar,” he said with a faint smile, “brought you some tea to keep you warm. We’re going out to get ourselves a tree.”

Get a tree? What did they mean ‘get a tree’? You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by… Well, fine, surrounded by trees, but surely they didn’t mean they were going to… Before you had even finished that thought, the guys grabbed their coats off the backseat — which would be missed greatly as they’d been keeping your feet warm — and hopped out of the truck.

Either it was completely coincidental that it had stopped snowing, or the guys had decided to get the tree now because it had stopped, but either way, you were happy, because you could see them clearly; bickering for a moment before making a decision, and making their way towards the tree of their choice.

It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth swing of the axe that you realized you were biting your lip and holding your breath. It had to be illegal for them to look this sexy while chopping down a tree, right? You could watch them do this all day, but unfortunately, they were done after about fifteen minutes.

“Nice show, boys,” you said as Sy got behind the wheel and Walter took the passenger seat, “can we go now?”

Sy looked over his shoulder once and grinned. “Sure thing, sugar.”

The rest of the drive would have taken about ten minutes, if Sy hadn’t managed to take a wrong turn. Neither of you were going to let him forget about that anytime soon.

“Finally,” you fake-yawned when you pulled into the driveway of the cabin about thirty minutes later.

“Shut up,” Sy grumbled, “or I’m shutting the water off when you’re washing your hair tonight.” Now there was a serious threat...

Sy took you inside while Walter took care of the tree — which included a pretty lengthy process of making it as snow-less as humanly possible on the front porch. You secretly thanked the universe that he was smart enough to think about that beforehand, because you were fairly sure that you’d have been the one mopping half the house if he hadn’t.

The cabin was very nice. Big, spacious — it had to be to accommodate Sy’s family — and just luxurious enough to make you wonder how the hell...

“I have this uncle,” Sy simply said. Of course. There was always an uncle! Sometimes a weird one, like in normal families like your own, and sometimes apparently a scandalously rich one.

“Thank him for me,” Walter said as he walked through the door, dragging the tree behind him. It was on a blanket. Maybe the guys were smarter than you occasionally gave them credit for.

“Will do. Let’s get that tree up, and then I can give you guys the tour?” You and Walter both nodded.

The boys had the Christmas tree up in no time, and you watched them from the couch — after rolling yourself into a blanket burrito with a throw you found hanging over the armrest of the couch. It looked like something Sy’s grandmother or mother had made.

He laughed when you asked about it. “My cousins and sisters all helped. They still spend the holidays knitting or... the other thing, with the one little hook-thing, I don’t know—”

“Crocheting,” you filled in, “continue.”

“Right. That. Every year they make a few more squares to add to that thing. That’s why it’s so big. You’re welcome to use it, but please do be careful with it.” The way he looked at the blanket was endearing. You knew Sy as a guy who cared a lot about family, whereas Walter had just about the worst relationship with his folks you could possibly imagine. It was no wonder he’d be spending the holidays with the Syversons instead of with his own family.

“Eh, Sy,” Walter said, and he pointed at the small stack of wood next to the fireplace.

“Right,” Sy replied, “my uncle mentioned something about being low on firewood. Apparently, the stash outside is not what it should be, either. We’ll get to that in a bit.” He sat down in front of the fireplace and within a few minutes, a small fire was burning.

Sy got up and gestured at you and Walter to grab your bags and follow him, and he led you up the stairs. The second floor of the cabin was also gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you’d have expected. The rooms weren’t big, per se, but they were very nice.

“You can take my room,” Sy said to you, while pointing to a door to his left. “If you don’t mind, we’ll share the main bathroom — I’d like to keep the place as clean as possible for when my family gets here, otherwise there’s no way ma will ever let me go here early ever again.” You and Walter both nodded, and you had trouble stifling a gasp when you stuck your head into the bathroom. It was absolutely gorgeous!

“My uncle’s room has an en-suite with a hot tub and a sauna,” Sy huffed when you commented on how nice it looked. “Me and my dad remodeled this one two years ago. Ticked every box on ma’s and aunt Jen’s crazy list of demands.” It was always fun to watch Sy as he talked about something like this. He was clearly proud of his work, and he could get so cocky, but for some reason he wore it well.

Over the past few months, you’d come to find Walter much more sensitive than you initially thought. He was considerate and kind, and sometimes really surprised you with kind gestures — like the time he’d sent you flowers when he’d noticed you were feeling off that week. The card had just read ‘hey, friend’, but you knew they were his — which was later confirmed and rewarded, of course.

Of course, you’d seen him get a little arrogant. One particular instance came to mind when Walter had unexpectedly bested Sy’s bench press PR. Sy was a sore loser, and Walter was not a very nice winner at all, which meant Sy had moped around all night while Walter showed you that he didn’t do cocky with even a shred of the amount of grace Sy did. It really should have bothered you that neither of them had shown their best sides that night, but they’d been half naked, so it was safe to say your critical thinking skills had been severely impaired at the time.

“Sugar?” Sy waved his hand in front of your face.

“Yeah?” you asked, snapping out of your memory, back to reality. Both guys were looking at you with a slight hint of worry in their eyes.

“Did you hear what I just said?” Sy laughed when you shook your head. “I’ll grab the boxes of decorations from storage, can you get started on the tree while we go out to get some firewood?”

You nodded and followed the boys downstairs again, where Sy disappeared into a closet to retrieve some boxes.

“Alright, knock yourself out with the tree, I’ll put the rest up where it’s supposed to go, later.”

You were actually excited to get started on decorating the tree, and then fate decided to steer your interest in a different direction; the spot where the guys were chopping wood was clearly visible from the window, and good God, was the view distracting... After a few failed attempts to stick to putting lights on the tree, you gave up and stood by the window.

There was something about these guys swinging an axe that made you feel hotter than the puny little fire in the fireplace ever could. You and your friends regularly joked about how entirely un-feminist that strangely primal urge to swoon over big men with big muscles was. It was nice to feel protected — and Walt and Sy had proven themselves very useful in the club on several occasions, and all your girlfriends loved them because they were very intimidating pretend-boyfriends, and therefore absolutely came in handy when the time came to fend off handsy, horny drunks.

Soon, those rational thoughts and memories faded to the background and were replaced by some of your favorite moments from the nothing-short-of-magical nights you had shared with Sy or Walt — both of them together hadn’t happened since last summer, and you had spent most of the past half year thinking you were okay with that, but there was this feeling deep inside you that absolutely wouldn’t mind...

“Well, well, well...” Fuck.

“Why are we doing all the work while she just gets to stare at us?”

“Was she staring at us?”

“I think she was...”

“Now, why on earth would she do that...”

“Oh, because the two of you are so incredibly hot, I could just drop to my knees right here...” you sneered while rolling your eyes. “Make the fire a little bigger, would you, Sy? And go take a shower. You both stink.”

“Alright, that looks amazing, sugar!” Sy said when he came downstairs again. The whole shower had taken him about ten minutes, in which you’d managed to make some serious progress on the tree, and now he was back to distract you with his grey sweatpants and the old t-shirt he slept in. He pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to your temple. “Think we can pull off a—”

“Absolutely not, Sy,” you laughed as you pushed him away. “We’re just going to hang out, watch a movie, go to bed early. Okay?” It wasn’t exactly what you were after, but whatever they wanted to do couldn’t happen now.

Sy groaned, clearly disappointed, and you felt his breath on your ear. “Come on, sexy,” he whispered, his fingers digging possessively into your hip, but despite enjoying his attention very much, you turned away.

“Nope.” You smiled at the way he looked at you; he made no effort at all to hide his disappointment and frustration. It made you feel strangely powerful to realize you had that kind of effect on him — on both of them, if you were being honest.

“Fine,” he huffed, “let’s get the rest of these decorations up, then.”

By the end of it, after another hour or so of getting the cabin holiday-ready while employing your absolute favorite tactic of conspicuously putting your ass in Sy’s line of sight — and Walter’s, once he came out of the shower and joined you — you were fairly certain those Christmas decorations weren’t the only things that were... up.

“My turn to shower,” you decided when Sy announced that you were done, and without waiting for an answer, you hurried up the stairs. Truth be told, all of your hard work turning the boys on hadn’t left you unaffected, either.

While the hot water warmed you up and slowly chipped away at the tension in your back and shoulders, your thoughts ended up with those memories from before again, making you wish you weren’t alone in the shower right now. Without thinking, you put a hand between your legs and ran a finger along your slit, dipping slightly between your lips. You were soaking wet — you had been nearly all day, and it was your own fault for taking on this trip wearing your favorite toy; a small, stainless steel butt plug with a crystal base. It was surprisingly comfortable, even after all this time, and you had no intention of taking it out just yet, even though you knew the next few hours would be absolute torture. You brought your fingers to your clit and quickly worked yourself to an orgasm, knowing it would only make it that much more difficult to keep the promise you’d made to yourself: tonight, the guys would have to come to you, not the other way around.

It was probably a good thing you weren’t going to be sleeping in a tent, minimizing the chance of having to knock on either of their doors for warmth.

You made your way downstairs after about half an hour, wearing your favorite pajama shorts and a tank top. As soon as you stepped into the living room, the boys groaned.

“Absolutely not,” Walter muttered, while Sy took the less subtle approach — as usual — and outright told you to ‘put those tits away, sugar’ because they were, according to him, very distracting. Good.

You politely declined his request and sat down on the couch between them, snuggling into Sy’s side while putting your feet in Walter’s lap. It was all part of the plan; you already had Sy on edge — which wasn’t a very impressive feat — but Walter usually took a bit more work. A bit.

The guys picked the movie — their choice surprised you; it was a cheesy Halmark Christmas movie. The kind that you loved, but they certainly didn’t. Were they just trying to get you in a good mood? It sure as hell was working...

You turned a little and let your legs fall open a bit, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing as you watched Walter clench his jaw. You were 100% flashing him right now, what with those pajama shorts being so... short, and everything.

His fingers trailed lightly up and down your shin, while Sy’s hand rested on your stomach, and it was difficult to pay attention to the movie when your thoughts kept drifting to all those other things you knew those hands could do.

Aside from the horrible tension, you were comfy and content with the situation, and you could tell the guys were, too. You turned on your side again, making sure to brush your foot past Walter’s groin, and a hand dangerously close to Sy’s. Completely accidentally, of course. The boys groaned.

“Mean,” Walter snarled, and Sy was quick to agree.

When the movie was over, you announced you were going to bed, not giving the guys any indication that they should come with you — although you weren’t exactly worried about spending the night alone.

Doubt started to set in when you checked the alarm clock next to the bed. It was almost midnight, and it seemed your plan had backfired after all. After deciding it was pointless to stay in bed, tossing and turning — and cursing yourself for being so stupid for thinking you were special enough to these guys to be able to play with them the way you did and have them come running to you — you got up and snuck across the hallway to the bathroom to get yourself a glass of water.

Just when you were about to walk back to your room, you heard footsteps in the hallway, and decided to wait a beat before going back to bed.

“Guess we had the same idea, then?”

“I suppose. You gonna tell me to back off?”

A gruff chuckle that could belong to either of them follows the question. “No. Are you gonna tell me to back off?”

The way they challenged each other made you weak in the knees, and you quickly gathered your courage to step out of the bathroom.

“Maybe you both need to go back to your rooms,” you said, faking a yawn as you tried to walk to the bedroom door — which was difficult because the guys were leaning on either side of it, and as soon as you were standing between them, their arms appeared in front of you, blocking your way.

“Now, sugar,” Sy said, leaning in until you felt his breath on your ear, “if that’s what you want, you know we’ll go. I’m just fairly sure…” A single finger trailed lightly up your spine, and you shivered.

They stepped closer to you until their chests hit your shoulders, but they dropped their arms. Without hesitation, you pushed the bedroom door open and walked into the room. Much to your surprise, they stayed put.

You glanced over your shoulder and pouted. “Are you guys coming or what?”

Walter beat Sy by a fraction of a second, and surprised you with a harsh hand on your hip while he growled at his friend to hold off for a second. Then, a few swift smacks landed on your ass. “That’s for teasing me the way you did. I noticed your little surprise, too. Are you still wearing that?”

Instead of answering, you let your shorts fall to the floor and stepped out of them as you made your way to the foot of the bed, where you spread your legs slightly and bent over.

“Well fuck me,” Sy stammered when he saw what Walter had been getting at.

You looked at him over your shoulder and gave him the sweetest smile. “That was the plan, sugar,” you purred. “Well… half of it, anyway.”

Walter slipped a finger into your pussy without warning and whistled through his teeth. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “How long have you been wearing that thing?”

“Since this morning,” you admitted shyly — why were you feeling shy all of a sudden? Embarrassed, even, possibly? Were you really even entertaining the thought that they wouldn’t like it?

“Goddamn, baby…” Sy sounded impressed, and a bit of your confidence returned to you.

“No wonder you’re soaking wet,” Walter said, his tone nearly as teasing as that finger that he slowly pumped into you, leaving you squirming and clenching your muscles in a feeble attempt to get more friction. “God, you need it, don’t you. Too bad, love. You made me wait, now you can wait.” You whined as he pulled his finger back, hated him for the way he chuckled when you leaned into his touch as he swirled his fingers around your clit a few times. “Get on your knees for me, love.”

You refused, not realizing how much it hadn’t been a question, and soon you felt a hand on your shoulder that pulled your upper body off the bed as he made you stand before him. Sy watched quietly from the corner of the room, clearly amused.

Walter looked directly at you, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort. “No flamingoes?” he asked sincerely, and you shook your head.

“None whatsoever,” you said with a beaming smile. You heard Sy chuckle in the corner. You used the same safe word with both of them — not that things typically got so rough you really needed it, but it was good to come prepared.

Walter gave you a quick kiss before ordering you to your knees again, and this time, you obeyed, glancing up at him with hopeful eyes, desperate to hear your favorite words — but he denied you. Instead, he nodded approvingly when you raised your hands, curling your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear.

Before doing anything else, though, you turned to Sy and batted your eyelashes at him, beckoning him to come closer.

“The only thing more fun than sucking dick, is sucking two,” you said nonchalantly.

“I’m happy to watch,” Sy said with a wink.

“Liar,” you snorted. “Now get over here.”

Having both of them towering over should have felt intimidating to say the least — instead, it just made you incredibly excited. There was even a slight chance you were a little too enthusiastic when you pulled their pants down and grabbed their cocks, because the boys chuckled.

“Goddamn, sugar, we don’t deserve you,” Sy groaned when you looked up at him — then hissed when you gently rubbed your thumb along the underside of his tip.

Walter was the less patient one today, grabbing your head and pulling you towards him. With a defiant look in your eyes, you stared up at him, but he wasn’t having any of it. A decisive ‘no’ and demanding ‘open’ were enough to make you listen.

You stuck your tongue out and carefully licked a salty bead of precum from his tip, relishing the not-amused eyebrow he raised in response to your teasing. In his defense: his instructions had been clear. In your defense: you were in a mood.

“Hm, not as well-trained as I thought, I see,” Sy chuckled, struggling to keep a moan off his lips when you moved your hand lazily over his length. You shot a mischievous glance up at the boys, clearly siding with Sy in this one.

“Oh, we knew she was a handful, right?” Walter laughed. The sound turned into a low moan when you finally took the head of his cock into your mouth for a moment.

“No, you two are a handful,” you quipped before teasing Walter again.

“Mouthful,” he corrected with a wink, finally having lost all of his patience, thrusting into your mouth. You were still holding him at the base, meaning he only made it about halfway in. Walter’s hand gently closed around your wrist, his eyes quietly asking you to let go — and you obliged.

It was tough to pay any attention to Sy while Walter pushed his entire length down your throat, but he solved that problem himself by thrusting lazily into your hand. You felt his eyes on you, felt his cock twitch in your hand, and you fought back a chuckle.

Sy had never struck you like a man who got off on watching his girl suck another man’s cock — apparently you’d been wrong.

He’d also never come across as much of an impatient, whiny, little bitch. You’d been wrong about that, too.

“You were right, sugar, I’m not happy to watch,” he growled after a while, and you retreated for a moment so you could look at him. He didn’t take kindly to the smug look on your face, because he was a lot less subtle in his… persuasive techniques than Walter had been. That is to say; he pulled you towards him and took advantage of your surprised gasp by shoving his cock into your mouth.

From then on, you tried your best to divide your attention adequately between the two equally demanding guys, and to your surprise you managed really well. It helped that they both wanted it roughly the same way — but there was one of them who just couldn’t see a blowjob as a full meal…

“I’m done with this,” Sy hissed after a while, but Walter groaned.

“I’m not,” he complained. It was cute, in a way. Walter had made sure you knew how much he loved it when you gave him head, and you felt bad for him that he didn’t get his fill. Now, if only there were a solution to this heartbreaking problem…

Sy hauled you off the floor with disturbingly little effort and bent you over, grinding his hips against your ass just because he could. You hesitated before taking Walter into your mouth again. This particular setup hadn’t exactly worked out last time.

When Sy pushed into you from behind, you moaned, relishing the feeling of the skin-on-skin contact. You’d ditched condoms with both of them a while ago — something the guys had been a little happier about than you would have liked. Sure, neither of them had ever complained about using them, and you yourself were perfectly happy that they weren’t in play anymore, but still…

You allowed the rhythm of Sy’s thrust guide the movements of your mouth around Walter’s cock, which worked out well. Last time, you had at least felt somewhat in control — over Sy, at least — but now that they both towered over you, tall and dominant like never before… Your legs trembled, and you couldn’t stop moans from spilling freely over your lips.

Every last one of Sy’s movements reminded you not only of the cock in your throat — which was admittedly pretty hard to miss to begin with — but also of the butt plug you were still wearing, which intensified every sensation, every thrust…

Your fingers dug into Walter’s hip in an attempt to steady yourself — not just physically — and before long you gave up on the blowjob, letting your hand do the work instead while you muttered profanities under your breath. Until Walter pulled you up.

“God, darling, you’re a mess,” he said with a smile, a hint of concern hidden somewhere deep in his eyes. He pulled your tank top over your head and used it to clean your face up a bit. “You’re not crying, right?”

You shook your head, and opened your mouth, but before you could speak, Walter reached around you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against him, using the other to push Sy off. “Stop.”

Of course, he did stop — you’d never for so much as a single second expected him not to — and he stepped closer until you felt his chest against your back.

“I really thought I’d be okay with it,” you whispered. “With being used like that, but…”

“Sorry if we were too rough on you, sugar,” Sy said, pressing his lips to your shoulder.

“Not too rough,” you said, with both a slight tremble and a sharp edge to your soft voice, “too mean. I’m your friend, not your fucktoy.”

“Right,” Sy said, and you could just hear the grin in his voice, “you may be a whore, but you’re our whore.”

That earned him a slap on the shoulder, both from you and Walter. “Oh, right,” you sneered, “as if you two sluts have a right to talk.”

Sy wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. “No, we certainly don’t.” Another soft kiss sent a shiver down your spine.

“I say we get her into bed and show her how much we care about her,” he said to Walter, who smiled deviously in response. The concern in his eyes hadn’t quite subsided — in fact it was as present as it had been before — but there was a hint of careful optimism that they could turn this around.

“So very, very much,” Walter said, slowly trailing his fingers over your upper arms, apparently taking the involuntary twitch of the corner of your mouth into a half-smile as a sign that you were okay to keep going.

Two pairs of devilish blue eyes looked at you as they slowly pushed you back towards the bed.

You managed to suppress a chuckle as you considered how incredibly in-character these two behaved, even — perhaps especially — now that they had committed their time and attention to making you feel cared for. Walter held you in his arms, pulling you closer every time his lips landed somewhere on your body, dedicating an indecent amount of time on your neck, no doubt leaving marks all over your skin. He relished your moans, whines and the sight of your writhing body, every plea that fell from your lips luring a chuckle from his.

Compare that to subtlety-of-a-freight-train Sy, who dove straight for your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple while his hand impatiently rushed between your legs.

“Is he any good at that?” Walter whispered in your ear, and you laughed.

“Not nearly as good as you,” you replied, looking down just in time to see Sy raise his gaze to meet yours, squinting slightly in protest of your words. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t so much as an iota of a lie to your statement. Hands were Walter’s territory. “There’s something he does better, though.” The sweetness of your own voice surprised you, and the smile on your face seemed to tick Sy off almost as much as you had planned.

“Now, sugar, if you’re asking me what I think you’re asking me,” he said slowly, moving his lips to your ear, “ask me. Nicely.”

He clearly hadn’t caught on to the little switch in dynamic your near-run-in with your safe word had caused — but he’d find out soon enough. A single firm push was enough to relocate him from the bed to the floor next to the bed, and you sat up on the edge of the mattress as he tried to get up.

“Down.” You warned him with your eyes more than with your voice, and to your surprise, he stayed down on his knees instead of getting up and hovering over you like he normally would — and you’d normally let him.

It was obvious from the way the muscles in his jaw tightened and the fierce eyes that stared up at you defiantly, that Sy was neither used to this nor made for this, but Walter’s hand on your thigh gave you the courage to lay down the law that the quiet man next to you had caught on to already.

“The two of you forfeited your right to boss me around back there,” you said, nodding towards the foot of the bed. There was something addictive about the sight of Sy on his knees in front of you. Below you. “I’m in charge now.”

Behind you, Walter groaned. There was a hint of a chuckle to it, but you didn’t get much time to think about it, because you swiftly became preoccupied with the movement you felt as he moved to sit behind you.

“Yes ma’am,” Sy said, his signature grin slowly spreading over his face, “as you wish.” He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed before grabbing each leg behind your knee and pushing them up.

The new position forced you to lean back, where Walter was waiting for you, his arms eagerly wrapping around you, providing some much-appreciated warmth, and you unconsciously snuggled into him. The sight made Sy chuckle as he looked up at you, one eyebrow cocked and still grinning.

“May I?” he asked. The remark had a sarcastic exterior, but the defiant glint in his eyes was nowhere near as strong as you’d expected it to be.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for,” you said with a smile. “Oh, and Sy… No teasing. I want to cum.”

He hissed another ‘yes ma’am’ through gritted teeth before deciding he’d better get to work.

“Don’t push it,” Walter whispered in your ear, pinching your nipple to drive his point home. Of course, it was foolish of him to think you’d even be able to pay attention to him while Sy was working his magic so effortlessly that you’d almost think he’d been eating pussy for breakfast every day for the last five years. Actually…

Walter made you whine softly when he put his lips on your neck again, his hands roaming your chest and giving your nipples some well-deserved and overdue attention, and he chuckled softly. He lived for the soft, high-pitched sounds of pleasure you let out when he drove you wild with nothing but his hands.

Sy, on the other hand, made it his mission to make you scream — preferably his name, but he wasn’t exactly picky — and swear, and to no one’s surprise but much to your satisfaction, he managed every single time. This time was no exception; as soon as you felt his tongue against your pussy and his fingers eagerly tracing a line along your slit, finding your entrance, you hissed.

“Fuck,” you whispered, already out of breath from sheer anticipation, your body begging for Sy to make quick work of this like you knew he could, so you could move on to fulfil your other burning needs… Only he didn’t.

Just as you were about to remind him of your order to not tease you, you realized something else was the matter. Something else entirely. He wasn’t stalling. He wasn’t teasing. He was… struggling.

A tiny little sliver of a thought crossed your mind for a split-second, begging you to taunt him and ask him what was taking so damn long, but you mentally crushed it with a bat and moved on to more productive ideas as you felt Sy lean his head against your thigh.

He sighed. “You messed with my head, sugar,” he admitted.

“Only because you let me,” you scoffed. “Sy there’s no one who does what you do. Now show me you’re the man I know you to be and finish me off, because I need it.”

“Careful what you wish for, sugar,” he said with a grin, looking much more like the guy you knew than he had a moment before.

From the moment he put his mouth back on you, it was game over, and you knew you were about to get everything you had asked for — and so much more. You moaned when he pushed two fingers into you, reminding you — just for a moment — about the time you’d asked him about that. Because he sure as hell didn’t need his hands to get you where you needed to be, so why involve them at all? The simple answer had been that he liked the way you squeezed him when he pushed you over that edge. You’d called him a smug bastard, and you still stood by that assessment. In fact, he was well on his way to prove your point to you again.

“Fuck, Sy!” you cried out when a flick of his tongue finished you off, and you felt your muscles spasm uncontrollably around his fingers. It was annoying that you were aware of it now, because you knew it made him feel extra good about himself.

Your moment of ecstasy was cut short by a pained grunt and a sharp smack on your wrist from Walter. “That hurts, darling,” he growled, gesturing at his arm, where you’d dug your fingernails into his skin — not deep enough to draw blood, but still leaving quite a mark.

Sy chuckled, and without taking his mouth off you, he looked up — at Walter, not at you. This look that they shared, you decided even though you could only see half of it, you did not like one bit — an educated guess that was confirmed when Walter reached for your legs, pulling them back even further.

“Still good?” he asked you while Sy looked around in search of something before checking the drawer of the nightstand and triumphantly retrieving the bottle of lube you’d stashed there. This time, it was not your hair-lube. It wasn’t your first rodeo, after all.

“Sure,” you answered Walter, sounding far more sarcastic than you intended, “being manhandled like this is my favourite pastime.”

“It’s not?” Walter asked, not buying into your act.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sy said, diving back between your legs before you had a chance to say something snarky in response to his uncalled-for attitude. He licked the length of your pussy before settling at your clit, making you moan and roll your hips against him impatiently. It wasn’t until you felt his fingers move towards the base of the butt plug you were still wearing that you remembered he’d grabbed the lube at all — and the thought disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced because Sy never took his mouth off your pussy.

You moaned loudly when he took it out and even louder when a finger slowly took its place. “Oh God,” you said, leaning your head back against Walter’s shoulder while you tried to make sense of everything you were feeling.

“Nope, just me, sugar,” Sy said, making part of you want to kick him in the head. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t be possible because of the iron grip Walter had on your legs. Shame. Besides, why would you even want to kick him when he was about to make you cum again? The answer to that question would have to wait, because yet another expertly executed move toppled you over the edge into bliss for the second time that night — and judging by the look on Sy’s face as he used the convenient moment of relaxation to work a second finger into your ass, it was nowhere near the last time that night you’d be trembling under his touch.

Your thought was confirmed when you heard Walter speak up, his voice breathy and drenched with lust: “One more.”

“Orgasm or finger?” you asked without thinking, to which his reaction was simply: ‘yes.’

Of course, Sy, diligent as ever, got to work immediately, flicking his tongue over your clit like it was his job, while his fingers pumped into your ass. Walter trusted you to keep your legs apart, letting go of you purely so his hands could get back to giving your boobs the attention he thought they deserved.

It was impossible to put into words how much you enjoyed being the center of attention, and if they hadn’t realized that by now, they probably wouldn’t — but you’d find that extremely hard to believe, especially with the way you were reaching for and grasping at both of them while Sy pulled a third orgasm from you. And then a fourth. And a fifth.

He didn’t stop until you were gasping for air in Walter’s arms. “I’m tapping out,” you panted, sucking in quick breaths between words.

Sy laughed and, without pulling his fingers out of your ass, got up to kiss you. His beard was wet, you could taste yourself on his tongue, and as far as you were concerned, you might as well have died and gone to heaven. When you opened your eyes, so did he, and you could see the longing in his eyes; a violently burning need that you immediately recognized.

It just so happened that, over the past six months, Sy had never actually gained backstage access, so to speak. It had never come up, and the one time he did ask about it had been so close to this trip that you’d denied him, hoping his first time — fine, his first time with you — would strike a poetic parallel with Walter’s.

“Do I ask, sugar?” he said almost mockingly, but still gentle enough that his remark just served as a reminder that you were still in charge.

“No,” you said, waiting just long enough to continue to give the man some idle hope, “you fucking beg for it.” Speaking of parallels with last time…

They were both going to have to swallow their pride — it just so happened that Walter had a hell of a lot less of it than Sy did. Alternatively, he just had far less trouble getting over himself.

“I swear to God I’m going to die if I don’t get to fuck you,” he growled in your ear. “Please let me.”

You bit your lip and giggled before looking at Sy with a raised eyebrow. His turn.

“Sugar, I’ve been dreaming about that sweet ass of yours” — his tone was calm, but his eyes were pleading with you in the most endearing way — “would you please finally let me find out…” His voice trailed off.

You looked at him for a moment before nodding, and you got up.

“He’s been missing out?” Walter asked while he took your place at the edge of the bed before grabbing your hips and turning you around, so you were facing him. Sy scoffed and mumbled something inaudible that you decided to pay no attention to.

You were too busy climbing on top of Walter, anyway, straddling his thighs but in no hurry to get railed just yet. He inhaled sharply when you reached between your bodies to grab his cock. That lengthy session with you as the sole focus of it had definitely taken its toll on them — neither of them were probably going to last very long.

You kissed Walter, slipping your tongue past his lips while you got up on your knees to allow him space to line himself up with your entrance. He moaned when you lowered yourself onto his cock slowly, taking your time to enjoy every inch of him.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he grunted softly when you finally sat all the way down.

You shrugged. “Your fault.”

“Excuse me?” Sy said, his tone offended. “I want my credit.”

“Credit, my ass,” you teased, hoping Sy would take that for the invitation you intended it to be. Luckily, he did.

You dug your nails into Walter’s shoulders when Sy pushed into your ass, not because he was hurting you or anything — you wouldn’t have endured that, and they knew that. Not that they had any intention of hurting you to begin with… — but mostly because you were completely overwhelmed by the feeling of the two of them inside of you.

A soft chuckle escaped you when you noticed Walter taking on the role Sy had last summer; studying your face for signs of discomfort and checking in with you to see if you were alright.

“I’m good,” you said after letting out a very dramatic sigh, causing Walter to look at you as if you were lying. “Fucking amazing. Promise. Kinda missed this.” You swallowed hard and relaxed into the feeling of being completely filled with cock. “Whew!”

The guys both laughed, which made you kind of want to smack them — but you didn’t. Because you were nice. Right?

“As long as neither of you has ever taken a dick up the ass, I don’t wanna hear it,” you warned them, and the laughter died down suspiciously quickly. Still, even though you were convinced that they were convinced that you were okay, they didn’t move.

“You’re in charge,” Walter said, shrugging indifferently and taking the slap to the shoulder in stride. Apparently, it was worth it to see you get a little worked up over their shenanigans. Needless to say, you did not agree with that assessment.

“I came on this trip to get railed,” you said, “fuckin’ make it happen!”

It was all the encouragement they needed; Walter lifted you out of his lap slightly to give himself room to move, and Sy pulled back a little, and precisely those two small moves made it very obvious to you that you’d made a huge mistake. Quite possibly the best mistake of your life, but a mistake, nonetheless.

You couldn’t help but scream when they both slammed into you, practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Walter fell back onto the mattress with you in his arms, and you let him drag you along without protest.

“Relax,” he whispered, “we’re not gonna last, anyway.”

You took his advice, burying your face in Walter’s neck while muttering ‘fuck’ with every single brutal thrust. They weren’t going to last; you could hear it in the grunts that escaped them, the way they breathed and their wavering rhythms, but damn if they didn’t put what little time they had to good use. ‘Fucking you six ways to Sunday’ would have been an understatement, even though you couldn’t for the life of you come up with something better to describe what they were doing to you.

Much to your surprise, Sy managed to outlast Walter by a few thrusts — which was no doubt going to make him insufferably cocky, but you’d deal with that later. When they tried to pull out, you stopped them.

“Gimme a minute,” you muttered, wanting to hold on to the feeling a little bit longer. It made you realize you didn’t do this nearly as much as you’d like to. Maybe it was time to bring that up?

“Did I lie?” Walter asked Sy, his voice as neutral as he could manage — but you could see the smile pulling ever so slightly at the corners of his mouth.

“Not a word,” Sy said. “Sugar, let’s get you into the shower.”

“No, I’m tired,” you complained, but apparently your time in charge had ended as soon as they’d both pumped you full of cum, because they raised their eyebrows at each other and manhandled you all the way to the bathroom and into the shower. You took revenge by insisting you were freezing — which wasn’t a lie — and demanding hotter water.

The boys played an annoying game of ‘trying to get your hair wet’ while they quickly washed theirs — with bodywash. Bodywash! — which made it really tempting to punch them both in the dick, but you decided against that. After all, you’d be needing those. Both of them.

After the shower, the three of you stopped in the hallway for reasons that weren’t immediately obvious to you — and then you saw what the guys were hesitant about. Both of them stood there, looking at you, at each other, and at their respective bedroom doors, before looking back into the bedroom the three of you had just had all that fun in.

“If you two so much as think you can sleep anywhere but next to me tonight,” you said sternly, “you’re sorely mistaken.”

Sy was the first to notice the small crack in your voice at the end of that sentence, and he immediately pulled you into a tight hug. From there, it was impossible to fight back the tears that welled up in your eyes. “Not goin’ anywhere, sugar,” he said, wiping the wet trails off your cheeks before kissing you softly.

“I’m also not as comfortable naked right now as I was ten minutes ago, so I’ll be right back,” Water said before disappearing into his room.

He kept his promise — not that you’d expected anything else — and climbed into bed with you moments later.

“Don’t push me out again,” Sy chuckled before pressing his lips to your shoulder, and you playfully nudged him with your ass, causing him to grab you and tangle his legs with yours.

It took a while for the three of you to settle on positions everyone was comfortable with — especially since you demanded that the boys touched as much of you as possible, while they appreciated touching as little of each other as possible.

“Do you like sharing me?” you asked quietly when you were snuggled up nicely against both of them.

“No, I hated every minute of what we just did,” Walter said, accompanying the remark with a dramatic eyeroll and a deep sigh.

Sy snorted derisively. “I know there ain’t no stupid questions, sugar, but I vote we make an exception for that one.”

“Okay, well,” you said, your voice still trembling, “answer the only stupid question in existence, then. Please?”

“If you think I invited y’all up here to torture myself or practice my self-control or whatever, you’re kiddin’ yourself,” Sy muttered before pressing his lips to your temple.

“And to actually provide a yes-or-no answer to your yes-or-no question,” Walter said. “Yes. We do like it. We’d actually been talking about how this was… overdue.”

“I agree,” you said, attempting to swallow the lump in your throat. Now came the hard part. “There’s one thing I don’t agree with, though.”

The boys both raised their eyebrows at you, and wrapped their arms around you a little tighter when they felt your whole body tremble against theirs. “I know we said… pre-exclusive” — meaning you’d agreed to fuck other people using condoms — “but I don’t think I want either of you screwing anyone else. I know it’s probably selfish, and—”

“Sugar, shut up,” Sy said, sealing his lips over yours so you were forced to stop speaking.

“We haven’t been screwing anyone,” Walter added. “Well, except for you, of course.”

It was clear the two of them had taken some time to talk this through as well — without including you in that conversation, apparently. That stung, but you got it.

“We only talked it over because we felt it would be a matter of time before you… made a choice,” Sy muttered, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I did make a choice,” you replied, “I’m picking both of you.”

#syverson x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall #syverson smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic

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wannastayugly · 1 year

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After watching Blood Origin, I kept wondering "what if the storyteller chose to show itself to Jaskier as Geralt?", and then this little thing happened. I hope you enjoy!

"Hello?" he whispered, getting no response. Elves and soldiers stood in place, stopped in the middle of a deadly dance.

Jaskier gets up from the bloody floor, with a heartbeat so desperate he could hear it in that deafening silence that had suddenly taken the battlefield. A fear he knew too well tightening his throat.

"Hello?" He calls, louder this time.

Jaskier had never been one to appreciate silence. It was a hard truth to admit: that while bringing music and warmth to others, the thing he craved the most was filling his own ears with their voices, whether they were singing back or telling him to leave, and that, while doing that, the bard had never really learned how to hear nor deal with his own thoughts, much less to be on his own.

Now, looking around, not really knowing what he is looking for, he feels the tears starting to come out and he closes his eyes, allowing them to wash away the dirty on his cheeks as a soldier stares in his direction, but doesn't really see him. No one to perform to tonight.

"I'll haunt you, witcher!" he roars. His chest aching. "Do you hear me? Maybe if you had treated me a little better, I'd never have tried to play hero!" I'd never have tried to be more like you.

He falls to his knees, covering his face and pulling his own wet hair with his tied hands. I don't want this to be how I end, he thinks. And he hurts his throat screaming one more time. Anger, desperation and fear taking him whole.

"Geralt!" don't leave me alone.

"Hello Sandpiper" a familiar voice reaches him, and Jaskier lets out a scream of fright as he immediately gets up and takes five steps back, almost falling to the floor when he stumbles on a death man. And then he sees him. His eyes go wide.

Geralt looks at him with the ghost of a gentle smile on his lips. He is wearing his usual black clothes. White hair falling in front of his face, moving with the wind. Jaskier's mouth is half-open, but he doesn't pronounce any sound. There's a moment of relief, a moment of wanting to run to that man and feel those strong arms around him again; to go back to the safest place he had ever known. But that moment doesn't last long, because that can't be him.

Jaskier wonders if that's just how angels look like when they come to guide you into the afterlife, then: safety. And, somewhere between the mess that is his mind, somehow he finds the strength to laugh at himself, because, if that's right, then even the angels know he'd follow Geralt again, anywhere, and that he'd do it with gratitude.

"Am I dead?" he asks, sounding like defeat. The angel denies. "What are you?"

"I'm many things. Many faces, many places" the white-haired man walks slowly, getting closer. Jaskier feels his heartbeat going fast again, frozen in place not by magic but by something else that had always been inside him, but he had always been too coward to name. And as the man approaches him, so close he can feel his breath over his face, that something screams even louder.

"Why do you look like him?" Jaskier whispers, lost in those golden eyes like a stupid moth attracted by light. But Jaskier already knew why.

I'd follow him anywhere.

"Because you love him"

The creature disappears. Becomes wind. And the next second Jaskier sees himself in the middle of the woods, in another place, maybe another time, and under daylight. He feels nauseous. The elven lady talks to him in a calm, gentle tone. A storyteller, he learns. And she tells him the story of seven warriors who came together to fight for their people, a story he is meant to sing to the people the Sandpiper now protects. But there's also something else there. Something that tears him apart.

"I know why you chose me" he says when she is done, impatient, reading what he just wrote, "It's not only because I'm helping them, is it? It's this… This stupid, tragic love story. But you're wrong about us. You're wrong, because we were never like this."

But when he looks up, the woman isn't there anymore. It's him. Close. His nose touching his. And Jaskier feels like a fool because his heart skips a beat; because he holds his breath, and because, even though he knows that isn't really Geralt, he can't help but being inebriated by the sight of him; can't help but wanting to press their lips together and taste his tongue as that thing tears his clothes apart and makes him his.

"You two are way more like them than you realize."

And just like that, Jaskier is back in the battlefield, surrounded by blood, screams, swords and arrows, with the papers in his hands being the only proof of the reality of what he had just heard and seen.

PART II

#geraskier #jaskier the bard #geralt of rivia #fic

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

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I Can't Believe It's Not Fanon

Otherwise known as...

Witcher facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but that are, in fact, book canon.

I have gotten two asks now about Jaskier and Ciri’s relationship. So let's goooo. For this installment of Canon or Fanon, I am answering the question:

Jaskier and Ciri's Friendship, Canon or Fanon?

In Geraskier fanfics, Jaskier is (obviously) Geralt’s romantic partner. So, whenever the fic also includes Ciri, Jaskier and Ciri often have a sweet found family vibe of their own. They almost always get along famously!

But in TWN S2 when they finally meet, Ciri isn’t interested in speaking to him, and brushes him off. (Not saying they can’t or won't become friends in TWN, but we haven’t seen it yet)

So, I’ve been asked whether their good relationship is pure fanon? Or is it book canon as well?

Well.

In the books, Jaskier and Ciri have a very sweet relationship. He seems to 'get' her and they get up to a bit of mischief together.

Ciri also teases him, suggesting a comfortable, affectionate relationship.

Most impressively, Yen and Geralt ask him to babysit Ciri when they have other things to do, which demonstrates that they place the highest trust humanly possibly in him.

Dandelion is inarguably part of Ciri’s found family and a big part of his motivation in the final three books are his feelings of responsibility for her.

In fact, Dandelion’s concern for Ciri and his feelings of responsibility for her actually lead to one of the most emotional, touching scenes between Geralt and Dandelion. It is a rare scene where Dandelion is incredibly vulnerable, and when I read it I want to chew glass.

I feel like because it is a bit more subtle, not everyone pics up on it. But as usual, you don't have to take my word for it. I have pulled book quotes to support each of these claims. So, read on!

(Obviously, there are book spoilers. I try to vague up everything plot related and leave out major spoilers, but there are still mild and moderate spoilers. In fact, I think this may be my most spoilery one by necessity. But I try really really hard but I cannot guarantee anything.)

When Dandelion and Ciri meet, he instantly ‘gets’ her.

The first time Dandelion and Ciri meet, it is in Time of Contempt. Geralt and Dandelion are staying at a friend’s house together, and Ciri is supposed to be on her way to Aretuza with Yen. However, Ciri and Yennefer show up there instead.

Geralt and Yen are broken up, so the reunion scene feels very much like divorced exes co-parenting. It is awkward. Ciri is standing physically between Geralt and Yen, feeling pressure about which one to walk towards. Dandelion watches the scene carefully.

“Who will the girl choose?” wondered Dandelion.

So, he sees right away that Ciri is in a very delicate position, and no matter what she does, it will show favoritism to one of her parents. Ciri comes up with an inventive, if theatrical solution.

Ciri did not walk to either of them. She was unable to decide. Instead of moving, she fainted.

Time of Contempt p101

So, Dandelion understands that she is in a difficult position. He also recognizes a performance when he sees one.

The next day, Geralt and Yen are outside in an orchard having a conversation. Ciri wakes up and goes outside to eavesdrop on them. She is caught in the act.

Ciri had imagined that Dandelion, the famous poet whose work she had read countless times, was asleep. She was wrong. The poet Dandelion wasn’t asleep. And he caught her in the act.

Lol. Imagine you have spent hours and hours over the course of your short life reading this famous man’s poetry, and he catches you being nosy.

“Hey,” he said, coming up unexpectedly and chuckling. “Is it polite to eavesdrop and spy on people? More discretion, little one. Let them be together for a while.”

Ciri blushed, but then immediately narrowed her lips.

Dandelion chuckles, because, well, we know that Dandelion LOVES eavesdropping and spying on people. Where else would he get all his gossip? So it is an affectionate, gentle statement. Then, Dandelion lets her know that he recognized that the faint was fake, even though Geralt didn’t realize it.

That was very cunning what you did yesterday, but you didn’t fool me. You pretended to faint, didn’t you?”

Yes I did,” she muttered, turning her face away.

And then, since as I said, spying is actually very much Dandelion’s thing, he joins her. They sit under an apple tree and eavesdrop on Geralt and Yen together. Ciri describes Yen and Geralt’s body language to Dandelion, then, in his expert capacity as a poet, he ‘translates’ it for her.

It is such an adorable scene. It also very much fits the popular “Dandelion and Ciri do mischief together” fanon.

I’m going to screenshot the whole thing because it is too long to type out, but here it is in case anyone wants to read it here. And if you can’t read it on here, it takes place on pages 101-103 in Time of Contempt. I found it in pdf form online and I’ll put the link in the replies.

So, after this sweet beginning, they develop a relationship that is comfortable and affectionate. And perhaps most significantly, Geralt and Yen leave Ciri in his care. There is truly no higher trust, and it very much indicates that he is part of the family.

First, Geralt, Yennefer, Dandelion, and Ciri tride together to Aretuza/Thanned. The journey is not ‘on the page’ but we know they make that trip together as a group of four. Those kinds of missing scenes are ripe for fics. We want to see them spending time together being just relaxed. But we don’t see it here.

But we do read that before they get to Thanned, they stop in Loxia where:

Geralt whiled away the day talking to Ciri. Dandelion ran around collecting and spreading gossip, and the enchantress measured and chose clothes.

p108

Then the evening comes and Geralt and Yen go to a banquet on Thanned, leaving Ciri with Dandelion.

Dandelion Babysits Ciri

The babysitting scenes don’t show them interacting, but it is still lovely. It ‘fast forwards’ to night time, and Ciri is having her usual dreams. As she wakes up and drifts back to sleep, the sounds of Dandelion singing, comforts her back to sleep.

The first time, the sounds are more celebratory:

“Now, vainly trying to recall the dream, she could only hear the soft sounds of lute and flute, the jingling of tambourine, singing, and laughter. Dandelion and the group of minstrels he had chanced upon continued to have the time of their lives in the chamber at the end of the corridor.

Time of Contempt p153

The second time is more soothing:

“Dandelion’s soft mournful singing and the music he raised from the lute’s strings murmuring like a stream flowing over pebbles, drifted to her from the chamber at the end of the corridor...Ciri listened carefully to the words.

p154

Then, there are noises in her room. Something is afoot. Ciri tries to reach for her sword. But Yen has given it to Dandelion for safekeeping.

She didn’t have a sword any more; Yennefer had taken it from her, giving it to Dandelion for safekeeping. The poet must have gone to sleep, and it was silent in Loxia. Ciri was already wondering whether to go and wake him...

Time of Contempt p 159

Unlike in TWN so far, Yen already sees herself as Ciri’s mother. She is intensely protective, on high alert, and VERY VERY determined to keep Ciri safe. So, she has taken Ciri’s sword, and given it to Dandelion for safekeeping. This is more indication of her trust in Dandelion which is high praise. There is nothing more important to her than Ciri, nothing.

The noise in Ciri’s room turns out to actually be Yen, taking her from her room via magical portal. But shit has hit the fan back at Aretuza and she understandably does not stop to wake Dandelion and tell him that she is taking Ciri, or why.

So, since Dandelion is staying down the hall, he doesn’t hear anything. It is only when he awakens some time later that he finds Ciri gone. He doesn’t know who took her and he doesn’t know why. So, he sprints to Aretuza to tell Geralt.

Dandelion arrived on the steps out of breath, saw what was happening and went white as a ghost.

“Geralt!” he yelled a moment later. “Ciri’s disappeared! She isn’t here!”

“I expected as much,” answered the witcher...”but you really make a body wait, Dandelion. I told you yesterday to leg it to Aretuza if anything happened!...”

Time of Contempt p172

So, it is important to explain here that Geralt doesn’t trust Yen with Ciri yet. Yen is completely trustworthy because she loves Ciri, but he doesn’t ‘get’ that yet. That whole chapter we are in his head, so we know that he is asking himself whether Yen is lying to him, he is saying to himself that Yen is hiding something, and he is questioning whether Yen is loyal to Ciri.

So Geralt is anguished now. He assumes it was Yen who took her, but he doesn’t know whether it was to protect her or to throw her to the wolves. And saying to Dandelion ‘what took you so long’ plays into the next part of Dandelion’s motivations in the story.

So fast forward to a few weeks later. During the whole thing on Thanned, Geralt and Dandelion are separated. Geralt is injured. And then he is taken to Brokilon for healing. Dandelion then makes the terrifying journey into Brokilon to check on his friend. And of course, Geralt is in complete anguish. He is injured. He doesn’t know where Yen is, where Ciri is, and whether Yen is helping Ciri or harming her.

In these scenes in Brokilon is where we fully see the extent of Dandelion’s guilt about Ciri.

He feels so guilty about that he dreams/hallucinates a dryad telling him Geralt’s misfortune is all his fault.

“...It’s obvious you had a hand in it. It’s obvious you are his friend. And if someone has friends, and he loses everything in spite of that, it’s obvious the friends are to blame for what they did, or for what they didn’t do.”

“What could I have done?” he whispered. “What could I have done?”

“I don’t know,” answered the dryad.

“I didn’t tell him everything...”

“I know.”

“I’m not guilty of anything.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No! I’m not--”

So, since this is a dream, the dryad is the part of Dandelion who blames himself. And he believes he is at fault because friends don’t let friends lose everyone they love.

This is the inherent tragedy of fantasy stories where non-powered humans are friends with super powered mutants and mages. They worship the ground their super powered friends walk on. They want everything to turn out ok. But they can’t actually do anything to save them. They can only love them. Geralt actually desperately needs that more than anything else, and it is why he values Dandelion, but Dandelion can’t see the value in what he offers him. He just feels useless.

So while he is yelling in his dream, he is actually yelling this out loud and he wakes himself up.

He jumped to his feet, making the branches of his makeshift bed creak. Geralt sat beside him, rubbing his face. He smelled of soap.

“Aren’t you?” he asked coolly. “I wonder what else you dreamed about. That you’re a frog? Calm down. You aren’t. Did you dream that you’re a chump? Well that dream might be prophetic.”

Time of Contempt p238

That is the witcher saga. Combining humor (Geralt’s sarcasm here) and friendship (teasing someone like this is a sign of comfort and affection with them) with extreme pain (Geralt’s grief and Dandelion’s guilt and shame).

It is really heartbreaking! Because how could Dandelion have known, and what could he have done if he did know? He isn’t Ciri’s babysitter because he has any magical powers or combat abilities. He is Ciri’s babysitter because Geralt knows that he loves Ciri and would never turn her over to any of these people pursuing her. He is Ciri’s babysitter because he is Geralt’s one port in the storm. He is the one person Geralt knows that he can trust outside of Kaer Morhen, to not give a fuck about political power or using Ciri as a pawn. (Geralt can trust Yen too, but he doesn’t know that yet. And he eventually trusts other people, but we are talking at this point in the story).

And actually to give credit where credit is due, TWN did include this dynamic by having Geralt ask Jaskier to escort Ciri to Kaer Morhenin S2. That was the most significant show of Geralt’s trust in Jaskier that TWN has shown, and it is very true to the characters and Jaskier’s role in the story.

But anyway, back to Brokilon. In Dandelion’s dream when he says he didn’t tell Geralt everything, that is in reference to some distressing gossip about Ciri’s whereabouts. Geralt has asked for all the gossip about the war. And as much as he grouses about Dandelion’s loose lips, he often depends on his gossip. However, Dandelion has hesitated in telling him that gossip about Ciri. He is trying to protect Geralt from bad news, and I think he feels so guilty that it’s hard for him to say out loud the kind of danger Ciri might be in.

But he decides to tell Geralt, and he decides to accompany him wherever he may go to look for Ciri. Geralt finds this out when he goes to say goodbye. What Dandelion says to him, and how Geralt reponds just squeezes my heart to bits.

“Farewell, Dandelion.”

“Geralt...Listen to me--”

“Listen to what?” shouted the witcher before his voice suddenly faltered. “I can’t just leave---I can’t just leave her to her fate. She’s completely alone....she cannot be alone, Dandelion.You’ll never understand that. No one will ever understand that, but I know. If she remains alone, the same thing will happen to her as once happened to me...You’ll never understand that...”

Oh god that rips my heart out. Geralt’s voice is faltering. His love for Ciri. The way he identifies with her. The way he wants to save her from the pain he has gone through in life. How passionately and emotionally he speaks about her. Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. That is it for me. That’s the good shit.

But Dandelion tells him that he does understand, and that Geralt isn’t going to do this alone. He replies:

“I do understand. Which is why I’m coming with you.”

Dandelion doesn’t understand what Geralt or Ciri are going through. But he does understand how important Ciri is and that she cannot be alone. Geralt questions the wisdom of this decision.

“You’re insane, do you know where I’m headed?”

And Dandelion’s answer might be the most vulnerable and emotional we see him at any point in the books. (one of them at least) Dandelion always uses humor to deflect. He always uses his arrogance to defend himself against vulnerability. It is so rare that he stammers. It is so rare that he reveals his doubts and weaknesses. But that is exactly what he does here.

“Yes I do. Geralt, I--I haven’t told you everything. I’m...I feel guilty; I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know what to do. But now I do. I want to be by your side.”

Dear god, that gets me. When you get the character who is always funny and conceited and charming just breaking down like that, it gets me. To have the character who is allergic to responsibility and commitment making one here. Holding himself responsible for another person. And to have him just outright say “I want to be by your side.” Gahh;aksd THE FEELINGS IN THIS SCENE. The Gerlion of it. The found family of it.

And all of this is because Dandelion feels responsible for Ciri. He feels guilty that he couldn’t protect her. He understands her importance to Geralt’s mushy heart.

And here is how Geralt responds.

The witcher stood thinking for a long time, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

“Get on your horse,” he finally said, voice sounding different. “You can tell me on the way.”

Time of Contempt p237-241

So, Geralt doesn’t actually argue at all. He just accepts Dandelion’s help. It speaks to how vulnerable and grief stricken he is at this moment. He is so touched. He is so grateful to not be doing this all by himself. (And that is a theme as we go along in the next book. He knows that helping him is dangerous. He doesn’t want anyone he loves to get hurt. Also, he doesn’t think he deserves help. But when people insist on helping him, it means the world to him.)

Now, since the topic at hand is Jaskier and Ciri’s relationship, to connect that dot, I am going to fast forward to the scene in the final book where Dandelion and Ciri are reunited. So far we have seen that Dandelion feels responsible for her, that he understands how important she is, and that he joins Geralt on his quest to help her.

When Dandelion and Ciri are reunited, we see their affection for each other, and we get a bit more of their time just spent together. We see her tease him about his name, and about his approach to dating. I love that and I’d like it injected directly into my veins pls.

But first, we see that Dandelion loves her. When he and Geralt had split up earlier, Dandelion made Geralt promise to bring Ciri back to Touissant to see him.

“And I want to hug Ciri. Do you promise, Geralt?”

“I promise.”

Lady of the Lake

P145

Ugh love that.

So in the reunion scene, Geralt is dutifully returning Ciri to Dandelion for that hug. However, when they get there to Toussaint where Dandelion is staying (he is with the Duchess so he is living there), they come upon a scene where Dandelion is seemingly about to be hanged on the gallows. It is a hilarious scene in one sense, because Dandelion is being hilarious and making a scene, and of course he would be charged with harlotry.

In another sense, it is a sad scene because Geralt doesn’t know this is just something they do, (whenever Dandelion cheats on the Duchess, she sends him to the gallows, then pardons him). Geralt has suffered so much loss and his grief and his exhaustion and pain is palpable. Ciri is also really upset and begs him to do something to help Dandelion. He doesn’t know what to do.

Then Dandelion is spared and Geralt shouts at him to jump onto Roach. So, like many times before, Dandelion jumps onto Roach behind him, and Geralt carries him away to safety. Once they are away from the scene, Ciri greets Dandelion with tears in her eyes.

Ciri reigned back Kelpie and waited for them. When they caught up she looked at Dandelion, and wiped away a tear.

“Oh you...”she said. “You Pancratts.”

The joke with the misspelled last name is that Ciri has just found out his real name when the executioner called it out.

“...it is known, that Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, alias Dandelion--”

“Pancratts what?” Ciri whispered a question.

p470

So just like the witcher saga, there is heartbreak and hilarity all in the same scene. And having Ciri find out Dandelion’s true name in such a funny way makes her just like her father. It is a running joke.

Then we see Ciri and Geralt joining forces to pick on Dandelion.

As they leave the gallows behind, Dandelion is rambling on about how his lover will surely forgive him his indiscretion, seeing as monogamy is totally unnatural, and the Duchess is so sweet and understanding that she will see this.

Geralt and Ciri are just listening to him shaking their heads.

“You’re hopelessly stupid,” stated Geralt, and Ciri confirmed she thought the same with an energetic nod of her head.”

Lady of the Lake p 476

That is so cute to me. Geralt and Ciri picking on Dandelion together.

Then the three of them (Geralt, Ciri, and Dandelion) ride together as a little squad to Rivia. They ride together for about a month, but it isn’t ‘on the page’. You just know that they do because the book tells you how much time has passed.

Their rides together (the four of them earlier and the three of them now) are the kinds of ‘missing scenes’ you get in fics, which are more concerned with relationships and characters than plot. But in the books, you don’t really get that post Kaer Morhen. Everyone is just on the run on the time. Hell, that’s even true for the co-parents. You can count the number of passages where Geralt, Yen, and Ciri are together in the same scene on one hand. Ciri spends much of the latter books on the run by herself, so unfortunately, we don’t get much of it.

And that is even more true of Dandelion and Ciri, given that Dandelion is a secondary character. However, what we do get is very touching and sweet.

Dandelion is inarguably part of Ciri’s found family. He loves her and feels responsible for her. And their dynamic is very playful and mischievous. They pick on each other and care about each other.

That is the best thing about the witcher saga. The found family. The ragtag group of assembled outcasts loving each other come what may. And though their relationship doesn’t have much ‘on the page’ time, it is extremely sweet.

#the witcher #the witcher books #geraskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #dandelion #cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #i can’t believe it’s not fanon #canon or fanon #thinking about dandelion yet again #thinking about ciri yet again #thinking about the witcher books yet again

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