#JASKIER DO YOU KISS ALL OF YOUR STUDENTS?
Note
Ooh, all your WIPs sound so fascinating! Can I ask about Runaway Jaskier? <3
Runaway Jaskier is a very goofy modern with magic AU that I only came up with yesterday and stayed up far too late last night writing. Basically, Geralt saves his upstairs neighbor, Jaskier, from getting murdered by a one-night-stand, who turns out to be a bruxa. This is a modern setting where magic and witchers have been forgotten, so Geralt fully intends to Axii Jaskier into forgetting about him and the bruxa once he patches him up. Only, he lets this fact slip. Jaskier, who has no intention of forgetting the coolest thing that's ever happened to him, escapes out the window and into a waiting rideshare.
The fic is basically Jaskier leading Geralt on a wild goose chase around modern-day Novigrad as he tries to avoid being brainwashed into forgetting Geralt and the bruxa, leading to lots of shenanigans, late-night conversations, and probably some minor peril.
Snippet under the cut because it's long:
“Look.” Geralt takes a step towards him, looking far more menacing than someone covered in glow-in-the-dark paint and body glitter should. "The Axii won't hurt you. It'll just be like you had too much to drink and can't remember what happened."
“I already told you, I won’t tell anyone.”
“And I already told you, I can’t risk that.” Geralt’s voice gentles. “The world forgot about witchers centuries ago and those of us who are left want it to stay like that.”
Jaskier looks around desperately, but no one is paying them a lick of attention. The food truck is surrounded by drunk, hungry clubgoers hankering for a late-night taco; none of them care about anything but staving off tomorrow’s hangover with carbs and grease. No one will notice if Geralt Axiis Jaskier and walks away.
Not unless Jaskier draws their attention.
“First, can I ask you a question?” Jaskier pins Geralt with his best puppy dog eyes.
Geralt sighs. “Fine. One question.”
Jaskier slips one of the many rings off his fingers and drops to one knee.
“What are you doing?” Geralt’s eyes go wide.
“Geralt.” Jaskier projects his voice like he would onstage, drawing the attention of a group of U Novigrad students standing nearby. One of the girls squeals. “From the moment I met you, I knew there was no one else on the Continent quite like you.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt hisses.
“While I admit, we’ve had our ups and downs, you are unforgettable, my love. Even after all this time, our love is as new and exciting as if we just met yesterday. I love you, Geralt, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
There’s a flash as someone takes a picture. Everyone around them is staring now; there’s no way Geralt can Axxi Jaskier without people noticing something is wrong.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my husband?”
Geralt looks from Jaskier to the U Novigrad students to the people in line for tacos. He turns back to Jaskier and bares his teeth in a smile. “Yes.”
As the onlookers cheer, Jaskier realizes he has no easy way to extract himself from this situation. He expected Geralt to tell him to fuck off, giving Jaskier an excuse to burst into tears and hopefully be comforted by a sympathetic onlooker, or perhaps just run away. But Geralt has said yes and by all rights, Jaskier should be over the moon. Which the witcher was counting on, judging by the gleam in his eye.
There’s really one thing to do. Jaskier slips his ring on Geralt’s finger and leaps to his feet, fisting his hands in the front of Geralt’s shirt and kissing him with every ounce of passion he can muster. It’s…not what he was expecting. For one, Geralt’s lips are warm and soft. For another, Geralt kisses back, one hand sliding around to cup the back of his neck while the other settles on his lower back. Jaskier forgets the bruxa and the onlookers and the threat of Axii. All the matters is Geralt pressed against him, kissing him within an inch of his life.
Geralt pulls away. His pupils are wide, nearly swallowing up the yellow of his irises, and his breathing is shallow.
Jaskier wants to kiss him again, then remembers why he really shouldn’t. With a laugh, he presses a quick peck to the tip of Geralt’s nose. “Oh, I’m so happy! I need to go call my parents!”
And then he runs.
Ask me about my WIPs!
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✨masterpost of my works✨
posted to my ao3
[this post is subject to editing in the future]
Since I intend on using Tumblr a bit more now, and because I like neat lists, I thought it'd be prudent do make a little list of what I have out on ao3 right now!
My name's Looth, and I am ENTIRELY at the whims of my hyperfixations. I'm on twitter and pillowfort by the same handles, but I rarely use the latter.
fandoms: Stranger Things, Our Flag Means Death, The Witcher (Netflix) and Good Omens
[list under the cut!]
fanfiction
Good Omens:
A Nanny? In MY Summoning Circle?
A twoshot wherein Warlock Dowling meets his Nanny again, via the very normal uni student past time of trying to summon a demon with a book you found in a dodgy bookshop. Very fluffy, genderqueer Warlock.
[Complete] 2/2, 10.5k
The Witcher (Netflix):
The Viscount
[geraskefer endgame]
A 5+1 that works on the premise that "I'm from Lettenhove" is a sort of codeword in the royal class for children that have fallen out of grace with their court/family? And the higher your rank in Lettenhove, the worse the thing you have done is? Lots of Jaskier shenanigans, aggressive found family and genderfluid Jaskier.
Based on a post by @artistsfuneral.
[WIP] 3/?, 1.3k
build me up, buttercup [rated M]
[geraskefer endgame]
A longfic I've been chipping away at since 2020, dear God. Features Jaskier and Yen being fake married and co-parenting Ciri, Geralt getting adopted, the found family inherent to bards and the city of Oxenfurt, ftm Jaskier and Ciri having a well-deserved identity crisis. Also, ocs galore, gratuitous academia, and also Valdo Marx is immortal and Jaskier's annoying best friend.
Geraskefer endgame. My baby, who I will return to as soon as I am able.
[WIP] 15/?, 64k
Our Flag Means Death:
the inertia series [rated E]
a three-part series following Israel Hands as he attempts to move on from the things keeping him trapped in amber, unable to grow.
[steddyhands endgame]
[Complete] 62.9k
1. love like a dog on a leash
Izzy Hands encounters an old friend in the form of Sam Bellamy, Ed starts a barfight, and Stede learns some backstory.
All of these men are haunted in some way.
1/1, 5.5k
2. open season
Izzy Hands finds himself inexplicably being courted by various pirates to be their first mate. No one has addressed that fact that he isn't looking for a new Captain; he already has two. Steddyhands endgame, features some Jackhands.
A long look at the dynamics between Ed and Izzy, and now Stede, and the older dynamics of Ed, Izzy, Calico Jack Rackham and Sam Bellamy. Actually, it's a look at Izzy himself, and his various traumas and the way he's transitioning from being in a Black Sails type dark genre to this weird muppet land everyone else on this ship seems to live in.
7/7, 44.5k
3. red sky at morning
An epilogue, wherein the boys all contend with the future on the horizon; the good and the bad of it.
1/1, 11.9k
stranger things
[my current hyperfixation send help]
Eddie Munson and the Dreamboy
[steddie]
Wherein Eddie and El traverse the inside of Steve's mind, and encounter various Steves at different points in his life trying to find where he's hidden himself to escape Vecna's final curse.
A 5+1, featuring Steve's Scoops Ahoy flirting, a little baby Steve, and El's hair.
[Complete] 1/1, 8k.
Dustin Henderson and the Lovebirds
[steddie]
Five times Dustin Henderson was subjected to Eddie Munson being gross and sappy and in love with Steve Harrington, and one time Steve didn't even have to be there.
Features Steve being serenaded, Eddie Munson's Roger Rabbit Impression, Steve's Tiny Gym Shorts, and a good old fashioned worm conversation. Also, gay dnd.
[Complete] 1/1, 9.7k
always burning, world keeps turning
a two-part series set in a soft post-apocalyptic Hawkins, where community and family keep everyone going. And Steve and Eddie kiss about it.
[steddie]
[WIP]
1. took you for a working boy
In a post-apocalypse, mildly nightvale-flavoured Hawkins, Steve and Eddie are the only ones who aren't aware they're dating. Steve does not have a gender crisis but does have a lot of difficulty finding the words for it all, Eddie is oblivious but earnest (and running a radio show, Dr. Death Defying or Cecil Palmer style), Steve and Robin are ACTUALLY soulmates, and everyone's doing their best.
I cannot stress how much everyone thinks they're already dating. Featuring genderqueer Steve, disaster gay Eddie, scheming younger teens, and lots of stobin fluff.
[complete] 6/6, 43.8k
2. hometown blues
The sequel to working boy, wherein Gareth, Vickie and Steve's mom encounter how fucking weird Hawkins has got in their absence, and take it with varying degrees of grace.
[WIP] 3/? 17k
off-script
Wherein Steve Harrington has his sexuality all figured out, Eddie's in comically heavy denial, and everything rapidly snowballs from there.
[steddie]
1. off the beaten path
Wherein Steve figures out he's bi before Eddie figures out he's gay, but Eddie STILL manages to fall first.
Features Steve talking himself though discovering his sexuality in approximately five minutes while on the phone with a baffled Jonathan, and him aggressively flirting with the local metalhead. He's also very good at being an unreliable narrator.
It ALSO features said local metalhead (who thinks himself straight) accidentally flagging, calling Steve Harrington princess in a totally straight way, and doing the ttrpg equivalent of doodling your crush's name on a notebook over and over. Also, somehow he's convinced himself he just hates Steve.
This won't end badly for anyone, I'm sure.
[Complete] 6/6, 34.2k
2. no boys allowed
Robin Buckley has her very first Girls' Day. She gets her hair braided, consoles her heartbroken best friend, and everyone muddies the water a bit on the exact definition of what a Girl is.
Steve Harrington has a good cry about Eddie Munson.
[Complete] 1/1, 7.5k
3. here be dragons
Eddie Munson has kissed a boy, and now he has to handle the fallout. He's got to grapple with the fact that he likes boys, likes a boy, and the harrowing fact that he may have inadvertently broken said boy's heart.
Or, a rapidly snowballing fic that's become a series of character studies by accident. Features Mike Wheeler kicking Eddie's ass into gear, ruminations on being a fashion-assigned dom, Steve Harrington's Various Abandonment Issues, and a surprise Tommy Hagan.
[WIP] 6/?, 38.9k
original works:
court of law
A mildly unhinged second person pov piece about a person going to college and finding that he's trapped in a bizarre dreamscape with no memories. And a new body. He accidentally steals a cute boy's name.
Lots of shenanigans, lots of gender and bad jokes.
[WIP] 6/?, 13k
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Stupid
Ship: Geraskier
Rating: G
Wordcount: 2.4k
Tags: intelligence, unexpected skills, 5+1, getting together, first kiss
Read on AO3
One: Monster parts.
Jaskier had usually acted pretty stupid. In the nearly six months, Geralt had known him, he had shown him multiple times how stupid. Starting with not staying back, when Geralt told him to for his own safety. Way to often he had nearly gotten gutted by some monster. He kept fucking married people or other people whose relatives might not agree with this and he had been beaten up by someone because of this at least three times since they knew each other. He absolutely wasn’t made for the life in the road. He didn’t know how to build a fire, how to hunt or how to protect himself against the weather when sleeping outside.
When they had been on their first adventure, he had yelled at the elves to not hurt Geralt and better kill him too if they killed Geralt. This might have been brave but also so incredibly dumb.
In short, Geralt had various reasons to think Jaskier was stupid. That was until he started to realize there might be other ways of being intelligent. Geralt had just killed a bunch of drowners and a water hag and Jaskier was standing behind him as he cut out the valuable parts for selling. He was mumbling something to himself as he watched Geralt do this. When Geralt got up he looked at Jaskier questioningly, the bard was still mumbling under his breath.
“What are you doing?” Geralt asked.
“Calculating” he answered.
“What?”
“So, you got 12 drowner eyes, one is squished so only worth about half the price, four brains, need to be more careful with them, they’re valuable, six hearts and six livers, also water essence from the hag, her tongue and eyes as well. You should keep three eyes and a liver for your potions, because I saw you run out, so if the merchant you sell them to gives you what they’re worth you should get 63 crowns and 32 copper out of this,” Jaskier explained.
Geralt stared at the bard, his mouth open. Not only had he just calculated this in his head, he also knew the current prices of monster parts and had payed enough attention to know which potions Geralt had run out of and what ingrediences he needed for them.
“Did you just do that in your head?” Geralt asked pretty dumfounded.
“Yeah, of course. You know Geralt, despite what you might think, I’m actually highly intelligent. You do know, I’ve studied in Oxenfurt, right? I graduated as master of the seven liberal arts. People might think the student life is all partying and fucking around, which it is a lot, but it’s also a huge amount of work,” Jaskier started to lecture him. He was right, obviously, Geralt had to admit. He knew Jaskier had studied in Oxenfurt and knew he had graduated as Master of the seven liberal arts. He still pretended to be unimpressed.
“I’ve been a professor for a year,” Jaskier added and seemed to end his rant with this. Geralt’s head snapped around.
“You what?” Geralt asked. This he hadn’t known and he wouldn’t have expected at all.
“I taught poetry at Oxenfurt Academy for a year before I left to chase fame and adventure,” Jaskier explained.
“You’re only nineteen,” Geralt said.
“Well you usually graduate with seventeen and I was best in my year so I was offered the teaching position just after my graduation.” Now Geralt couldn’t hide anymore that he was impressed. To get offered a teaching position just after graduating he couldn’t just be best of his year. He must have been incredibly good. He felt a little bad for underestimating the bard.
Two Blacksmithing
“Geralt your sword looks like shit. Who fucking made this?” Jaskier asked while watching Geralt polishing his sword. He wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t a good sword but his last one had been broken and he hadn’t been able to afford a better one.
“What the fuck do you know about swords?” Geralt asked confused.
“Enough to know that this one has a shit quality and will probably break during your next hunt. You need a new one,” Jaskier lectured him.
“Too bad, I can’t afford a new one,” he answered. They were pretty low on coin so the sword would have to make do.
“Well, you’re not going hunting with this piece of shit. If I had a couple of smithing tools, I could probably improve it enough to at least be usable.”
“You what now? What do you know about smithing?” Geralt asked. He probably had read some books about it, but it was nothing you learned from a book.
“Everyone needs a hobby, Geralt. I learned it when I was still in Oxenfurt. It’s actually pretty relaxing. With all the reading and composing and studying I needed something more physical. Give me your sword, I will go to the local blacksmith and ask him to use his tools to fix what can be fixed with this piece of shit,” he explained.
Once again Jaskier had shocked him, that was not a skill or interest he had expected from the bard. But he did hand over his sword and watched Jaskier hurry off with it.
It took a couple of hours until he returned and the sword looked a lot better now, the bard himself was covered in grime but looked really happy.
“This was fun,” Jaskier announced. “Heinz was very accommodating. He was happy to meet someone who shared his passion and even allowed me to use his smithy for free. Here you go.” He handed Geralt the sword and the Witcher inspected it. Jaskier really had done a great job with it. It was hard for Geralt to believe what he saw.
Three: Instruments
Geralt looked at Jaskier who was sitting in a corner of the room. They had traveled to Lettenhove because Jaskier wanted to visit his parents. It was his father’s 60s birthday and they wanted to celebrate. The bard had a weird instrument in his lap.
“What the fuck is that?” Geralt asked, squinting.
“Oh, that’s my Hurdy-Gurdy,” Jaskier explained. That definitely sounded like it was fake. There was no instrument called a Hurdy-Gurdy, that sounded too ridiculous.
“A what now?” Geralt asked.
“Hurdy-Gurdy. Great instrument. I love playing it. But it’s not as accepted as the lute in the common folk and I had to decide on one instrument to take with me, so the lute is my go to instrument. But I have a lot of others, I love to play,” Jaskier explained, as he continued to turn the crank.
“Looks complicated,” Geralt said, watching him play.
“Some people say it is, but I always had an easy time picking up instruments. I started collecting weird instruments as a child and started to teach them to myself.”
Of course, he had taught this stuff to himself. Geralt didn’t think he could have been surprised again, but here he was, gaping at Jaskier, mouth open, as the bard looked down again, focusing on playing the instrument with the absolutely fake sounding name.
Four: Languages
“Geralt look at this book,” Jaskier cried out excitedly while his nose was buried in an old book. Geralt stepped over to him to see what the bard had found. Geralt was sure he had never seen such symbols before but Jaskier’s eye movements suggested he was actually reading it.
“What is it?” Geralt asked.
“It’s from the Vran, it’s so interesting, describing their culture. I need to take this with me. They’re nearly extinct and this knowledge can not be lost,” Jaskier explained, nearly tripping over his own words in excitement.
“You can read the Vran language?” Geralt asked shocked. He didn’t think he had ever met someone being able to understand more then a couple of words. He himself had learned about three words and he usually was pretty good with languages but this was the hardest he had ever seen.
“Yeah of course I can. Reading is easy. I’m not good at talking, though, learned it through books, mostly self-taught. I could probably write it but if I would talk to them, they probably wouldn’t understand me,” he explained.
Learning a language from books was a lot of effort and being good enough to read a book in the language meant Jaskier must be pretty good at it.
“Look at this paragraph,” Jaskier said and held the book in front of Geralt’s face.
“I can’t read this,” Geralt admitted.
“What? I thought you were really good with languages,” Jaskier said and seemed seriously shocked.
“I am, but that’s one of the hardest languages on the continent and it’s spoken by a race that’s nearly extinct. As nice as it could be to learn it, it’s not practical. I would suggest to rather learn dwarven or nilfgaardian,” Geralt said. He had a pretty solid knowledge of both of the languages. Good enough to haggle with merchants and tell Emperor Emhyr to fuck off in his native language.
“Vaer'truov me, essea, vatt'ghern,” he replied.
“Impressive,” Geralt replied. He had not expected Jaskier to be able to speak nilfgaardian.
“I also speak vodyan,” Jaskier explained.
“Seriously? Why?” Geralt asked.
“I just think learning languages is fun.”
“Hmmm.”
---
Jaskier looked at Regis with wide eyes.
“You’re a vampire?” he blurted out. Geralt rolled his eyes. This was rather rude from the bard.
“Yes, I am. I’m sorry, I can understand, if you rather not have anything to do with me anymore,” Regis answered. Geralt had to only take one look at the bard to know the opposite was the case, for some reason he was trembling with excitement. And suddenly a wave of words, Geralt did not understand left the bard’s mouth. Regis looked surprised at first but then a big smile manifested on his face and showed off his fangs and he replied, apparently in the same language. Geralt stared at them in confusion.
“Are you speaking the vampire language?” Geralt asked.
“Yes, it’s so refreshing to meet a human who speaks my language,” Regis said to Geralt then he turned to Jaskier. “You speak it quite well.”
“I had a lot of practice in a certain brothel in Vizima,” Jaskier answered.
In the following days, Geralt saw the both of them sitting together a lot, speaking a language, he didn’t understand. Maybe he should learn it, Regis was a close friend and it would be nice, being able to talk to him in his own language. He also felt a little left out.
Five: Potion making
“Geralt, what the fuck are you doing there?” Jaskier yelled. Geralt looked up startled.
“Making my potions?” he answered confused. Jaskier had seen him doing this countless of times.
“Like this?”
“What do you mean?” Geralt asked.
“That’s how they taught you to make swallow in Kaer Morhen? Drowner brains? Really? That raises the toxicity way too much. What you need instead is the heart of the drowner. Same effect but much less toxic. You won’t feel as much like vomiting afterwards,” Jaskier explained.
“How the fuck do you know that again?” Geralt asked. What did a bard know about Witcher potions?
“I’ve known you for a long time now, I did some research over the winter. Found a lot of old books from various Witcher schools explaining stuff. You really should have communicated with the other schools more. The cats perfected that potion.”
“Did you find out something else I might not know,” Geralt asked squinting.
“I’m so glad you asked,” Jaskier declared and jumped up. Oh no, that could be a long lecture. Jaskier opened his saddlebag and retrieved a book. As he opened it Geralt saw, it was written in Jaskier’s handwriting.
“In here I collected everything noteworthy I found,” he declared and flipped through the pages. When he found what he’d been looking for he started to read. It was a part about potions, Geralt had no idea about all the possibilities.
Soon after he got to the next part, going deep into the history of Witchers. There was so much Geralt didn’t know. Much had been lost over the years and he couldn’t believe, Jaskier had managed to get all of this together.
It suddenly hit Geralt that Jaskier had spent his winters researching stuff about Geralt’s origins and also information to help him. He didn’t know how to deal with that kind of affection.
+ 1 Stupid
Geralt was limping up the stairs of the inn they were staying at. The damn griffin had buried its claws deep in Geralt’s thigh and he had wrapped some cloth around it to stop the blood from rushing out. He opened the door and nearly collapsed on the floor. Jaskier jumped up and caught him before he could hit the floor. He basically carried Geralt to the bed.
“Pull down your pants,” Jaskier demanded in a stern voice. “I need to have a look at it.” Geralt had learned to not argue with Jaskier about stuff like that and complied. Jaskier opened the knot, holding the cloth around Geralt’s thigh and removed it.
“Sheyss,” he muttered. Geralt grinned at the nilfgaardian swear. Jaskier tended to go through different languages whenever he started to swear.
“You need to be more careful, Geralt,” he scolded as he cleaned the wound. “That’s so fucking deep, if you were human you would have bled out from that.”
“Good thing I’m not human then,” Geralt answered. Jaskier didn’t answer that, he just got on, tending to the wound. Gentle fingers fluttering over Geralt’s skin.
When he was done, they sat on the bed, shoulders brushing each other.
“I can’t lose you, Geralt. Please, I couldn’t stand, sitting in some room in an inn, waiting for you just to realize, you won’t come back one day. I just can’t,” Jaskier mused.
“Why?” Geralt asked.
“Because I fucking love you,” Jaskier blurted out.
“What?” Geralt looked at Jaskier shocked.
“I love you, Geralt, haven’t you noticed? How can you not have noticed?”
“Why would you love me? That’s stupid,” Geralt answered.
“No, it’s fucking not,” Jaskier answered.
“It is. I can never give you a nice and quite life, always hunting monsters, always being an outcast, you fucking deserve better.”
“I don’t want better. There is nothing better for me. If you don’t love me back, that’s fine, but I still love you, always have.” Geralt looked at Jaskier, took in the honest glint in his eyes. Then he leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Jaskier’s. Jaskier’s arms flung around him and the bard nearly crawled into his lap, just stopped because he avoided touching Geralt’s injury.
“Stupid,” Geralt muttered against Jaskier’s lips.
“You’re stupid,” Jaskier answered, gently cradling Geralt’s cheek.
“I love you and if that’s stupid, then I will just have to live with being stupid,” he said.
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ANOTHER FLUFFY DIALOGE BECAUSE WHO AM I IF I DON’T ASK FOR THIS JAMIE PLeaSE
“Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”
Hng 🥺❤️
I wrote this at...some point? last month? Time is meaningless, idk what's going on, but. voila.
and the night was quiet around them
CW: None
Summary: As always, Geralt walks Jaskier home, but this time Jaskier has a question for him
Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on/off it!
It was habit to walk Jaskier home by now. After every late night coffee date, sitting for hours into the night while Jaskier muttered to himself and practically pulled out his hair. Hot chocolate for Geralt and potfulls of the strongest bean juice they had for the grad student, as if it alone would drag Jaskier through each and every day.
The night was quiet. Geralt's hands in his pockets, Jaskier's arm in his. Few cars passed them by but they were in a nice part of town, so Jaskier didn't actually need company on his walk. But it made Geralt rest a little easier to see him home, whether on the phone if he wasn't around or in person.
"It's getting cold." Jaskier clung to him, more than a little whiny when he was tired. The bags under his eyes were getting more pronounced. At this point, they might become a permanent feature.
"You've got a heated blanket at home. We're almost there."
"God, I do not want to know what time it is. Maybe they'll cancel class tomorrow." At Geralt's soft hum, Jaskier gave a wistful sigh, tilting his head back to stare up at the stars. "Could be a holiday. Or a tornado destroys the building. I'm really not that picky."
"Doubt both of us would forget a holiday."
"That mean the tornado is still on the menu?"
Jaskier's apartment was its own little separate building. As always, Geralt walked him all the way to his front door, leaning against the wall while Jaskier fumbled for his keys. His own wasn't that far away, just two streets down, so he'd be tucked into his own bed soon enough, crashing and more than a little thankful that he didn't have anywhere to be the next morning.
"G'night." Jaskier said it softly, and then stood there almost sheepish. It was odd enough for Geralt to cock his head, until Jaskier was squirming under his gaze.
“What is it?”
Some more squirming, and then Jaskier pouted, looking up at Geralt through his long lashes. “It’s cold in my apartment. Can I…borrow your sweater?”
“Instead of turning up the heater or using your blanket?” Geralt shook his head, crossing his arms as he waited for Jaskier to use a better excuse than that.
But, surprisingly, Jaskier didn’t try to come up with one. He huffed instead, stepping closer to wrap his arms around Geralt and bury his face into his chest. “No, it just…smells like you. Would help me sleep.”
Geralt’s words ran away from him. Tongue properly tied, mind screaming, and all he could do was push himself away from the wall and take off his sweater. He couldn’t look at Jaskier when he handed it to him, feeling his face burning, and it only got worse when Jaskier bounced on his feet to give his cheek a quick kiss goodnight.
The night was still quiet as Geralt made his own way home. Streets and roads empty, only the occasional stray cat and a dog barking behind a fence. But his heart was anything but quiet, racing away and pounding in his ears even after he was tucked into his own bed.
-
@fontegagrilledcheese @damnbert @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf @oldandkinky @blooodymoon @kan0chan @silvermintnightprincess @flowercrown-bard @sharinalein @concussed-dragon @hayleynzlive @feral-jaskier @sweetiepieplum @stonedstargazer666 @deafeningnightcollection-things @luteandsword @kmuir1 @little-boats-on-a-lake @dani-dandelino-main
#geraskier#geralt#jaskier#the witcher#mywriting#fanfiction#geralt/jaskier#jaskier/geralt#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#witcher#witcher fic#witcher fanfic#witcher fanfiction#the witcher fic#the witcher fanfic#the witcher fanfiction
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professional conduct
@thepassifloradiscord's bards week - day 1: hand-holding
(valskier, established relationship, light horniness, realizing i forgot the hand-holding bit but eh, 1.1k)
read on ao3
Jaskier probably thinks he’s being sneaky when he slips into the back of the classroom in the middle of Valdo’s lecture. He tiptoes quietly to an open spot and sits down with a sly grin on his face. Among the students in their black robes, his bright red ensemble makes him stick out like a sore thumb.
Valdo refuses to be affected by it, pointedly ignoring the scarlet beacon in his classroom to finish his point about the Late Cintrian Lyrical Period. He’s a performer first and foremost, and perfectly capable of teaching through a bit of distraction. Even when said distraction is undressing him with its eyes.
Jaskier isn't actually teaching any classes this semester. He's only in Oxenfurt for the winter while the weather is too unpleasant for his usual nomadic lifestyle. For the next few months, he has all the time in the world to drive Valdo mad.
When the lecture wraps up and the students begin to file out of the classroom, Valdo keeps his cool, organizing the stack of compositions he’d collected at the start of class and packing up his notes. The sound of footsteps dies down and hears the light scrape of a chair on the floor.
Valdo waits for Jaskier to make his way to the front before he acknowledges the other bard’s existence, still not looking up from his things. “What are you doing here?”
Jaskier’s smug grin is audible. “Observing the lecture of an esteemed colleague, of course.”
“Esteemed?” Valdo asks, amused. “That's a new one.”
Jaskier laughs and Valdo graces him at last with a glance. The other bard hops up onto a desk in the front row, crossing his legs and making himself very comfortable.
“Your interpretation of Luella’s romantic period is abysmal, of course,” he says.
“The man was a hack,” Valdo counters with a roll of his eyes, “completely in the pocket of the Redenian council. It's propaganda, nothing more.”
“Ah, but therein lies your mistake. You take this as a dismissal of any artistic merit in his work.”
Valdo drops the stack of papers he’d been straightening and rounds his podium to approach the other bard. He’s aware he’s being goaded, but these little spats can be entertaining if he lets them. “And what of honor?” he asks. “Integrity?”
Jaskier waves him off. “Art is blind to such concepts.”
“Suppose your popularity can be explained after all.” That earns Valdo a grin.
“You admit that I'm popular, then?”
Valdo halts before his ridiculous paramour, leaning against the table with a hand on either side of Jaskier’s hips. From his perch, Jaskier is a few inches above Valdo, contrary to the usual reverse when they stand side by side. Jaskier’s never said so aloud, but Valdo knows he enjoys this—making Valdo look up at him.
Despite his hidden bulk, Jaskier manages to look almost delicate like this, but not quite vulnerable. He’s like a cat who’s caught his mouse—exactly where he wants to be. Ever so slowly, Valdo slips a hand under Jaskier’s knee and uncrosses his legs to fit himself between them. He lets his hands roam and his breath catches. A traveler’s life really does wonders for a man’s thighs.
“Popularity is indicative of nothing of consequence,” Valdo says, voice low.
Jaskier smirks down at him, splaying one hand over his shoulder and burying the other in Valdo’s black curls. “The words of someone who is not popular.”
“Panderer.”
“Snob.”
There’s nary an inch of space between them now. Valdo can’t really see Jaskier’s face anymore, only his eyes, the pretty blue swallowed up by darkness. The other bard’s breath rolls over his lips and Valdo grips his thighs more firmly to keep his hands from trembling.
“I have another class in an hour,” he whispers helplessly, and Jaskier’s smirk widens.
“Plenty of time for me to distract you, then.”
Jaskier drags Valdo in by his hair. It’s a slow kiss, leisurely like they have all the time in the world, but it’s heady the way everything is with Jaskier. Valdo whines pathetically as this kiss deepens for the familiar taste of Jaskier’s tongue combined with the feel of nails against his scalp and strong thighs tightening around his hips.
The world narrows to this—warmth all around him and the frantic pounding of his heart. Valdo thinks the sun could come crashing down to the Earth right this second and he wouldn’t notice a thing. That’s probably why he doesn’t hear the snappy footsteps entering the room.
“Professor Marx,” a sharp voice calls from the door.
Valdo flies back at once with a gasp—or at least as far as Jaskier’s arms will allow him. He gapes at the back of the classroom. It’s not a student or a colleague. Of course, he couldn’t be that lucky. It’s the fucking dean.
“Master Jaskier,” she says, narrowing her eyes at them.
Jaskier allows Valdo to untangle himself and turns on the table with a shameless grin. “Lovely to see you again, Dean Mora.”
“Likewise.” Her lips are pressed into a severe, thin line.
Valdo clears his throat awkwardly and runs a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. Gods, he feels like a teenager caught getting handsy in a broom cupboard. “What, um. What can I do for you, Ma’am?”
“I was hoping to get your syllabi for next semester,” she says.
“Oh, yes!” Valdo smiles, overly pleasant. “I'll have those to your office this afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
They all sit there for an endlessly uncomfortable moment before she adds:
“And if we could keep to professional conduct in classroom buildings, gentlemen.”
“Of course!” Valdo assures. “Won't happen again.”
She hums doubtfully and exits the classroom without another word, closing the door behind her. Valdo deflates with a sigh the moment she’s gone. Jaskier bursts into bubbly laughter and Valdo rewards him with a firm swat on his stupidly muscled thigh.
“You harlot," he hisses. "You're going to get me reprimanded.”
“Oh please, I didn't make you come over here.” Jaskier slides gracefully from the table and plasters himself to Valdo’s side, resting a hand low on the small of his back. “I best be off anyway. Seems you have work to do.”
“And you’re so very concerned about my obligations.”
Jaskier giggles softly and presses a few tantalizing kisses to the side of Valdo’s neck. “Will I be seeing you this evening?” he asks.
Valdo tries not to shiver. “If my office hours don't run late.”
Satisfied, Jaskier detaches himself, but not before leaning in, aiming for Valdo’s mouth. Valdo dodges him pointedly and Jaskier groans. “Oh, for heaven's sake, you can kiss me goodbye, you fool.”
Valdo keeps himself carefully out of reach, but Jaskier has never been the sort to give up. He places his hands stubbornly on his hips.
“I'm not going until you kiss me.”
Valdo holds out a few more seconds for the principle of the thing, but he knows he’s going to give in the whole time. He leans forward and allows Jaskier to drop the lightest peck on his lips. Jaskier smiles.
“Much better.”
~
bards week masterlist
#ooo i'm pumped for this week#valskier#valdskier#jaskier x valdo#valdo x jaskier#my fic#mine#valdo marx
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This is a collection of modern AUs where Geralt, Jaskier, or both do porn
Do No Harm by @grassylampshade | E | 3k
“Why are you here?” Geralt’s voice is unbelievably deep, a growl that resonates differently in person than it does through Jaskier’s tinny laptop speakers.
Jaskier clears his throat and says, “I need your help.”
Jaskier wants to improve his stamina and Geralt is willing to lend him a hand.
Socially Acceptable Ways to Meet Your Soulmate by @elpiething | E | 4k
Jaskier's parents weren't precisely keen on their oldest Omega child going to Oxenfurt to learn art.
So they told him to pay off his own student debt.
Which means they can't technically get mad at him for going in for a camera test at Vengeance Studios.
-
An AU where Alphas can't knot without medical assistance.
Or their soulmate.
(we should just kiss) like real people do by @thewalrus-said | E | 6k
Jaskier is a dime-a-dozen independent porn star with a party trick. The mononymous Geralt, owner and star of Rivia Studios, is one of the greats in the industry.
So Jaskier is a little surprised when Geralt contacts his agent to set up a scene together. Surprised, but very, very willing.
(A porn stars AU.)
your two tongue kisses by @krytella | E | 7k
It’s not like Jaskier would want to be in the scenes with Geralt. That’s all highly choreographed, completely stripped of romanticism. No, what Jaskier fantasizes about is ridiculously sappy by anyone’s standards: kissing him, wrapping their bodies around each other in shapes that don't angle to the camera, running fingers through his hair, touching him when he’s not hard, or not to keep him hard, just for pure pleasure.
Or: Jaskier is a porn cameraman and Geralt is his favorite performer. Probably not the porn AU you were looking for.
I Can't Take My Eyes Off You by JustSimpleThings | E | 7k
Jaskier is a porn star who can't stop staring at the fit new camera man. The situation spells 'trouble'.
boogie nights by spqr | E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 8k
“This isn’t nothing.” His eyebrows draw together. “Jaskier. What happened?”
Jaskier fists his hands in his own hair and contemplates pulling it out. “I got shot.”
“Shot,” Geralt echoes, in a tone Jaskier’s never heard before.
“Only a bit,” Jaskier hedges. “I took some vicodin, it’s perfectly fine. I can hardly feel it.”
Sweet by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG | E | 8k
Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo
Prompt: rough
They Were Roommates by Nowaki | E | 11k
Geralt finds Jaskier’s porn. A surprising amount of the videos are about him.
Geraskier OnlyFans AU series by @ghostlyfallows | 19k
→ The Tower of the Swallow | M | 2k
The man had a very handsome face. His face wasn’t exactly a problem - Jaskier was used to keeping his cool in front of many beautiful and handsome people. The problem was this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this face. More specifically, the problem was: the last time Jaskier had seen this face, it was when he’d confirmed the $11.99 purchase for a month’s subscription to his OnlyFans.
Geralt opened his mouth - that mouth jesus holy fucking christ on a stick - and Jaskier stuck his hand out for a hand shake.
“Julian Pankratz,” he introduced himself, praying to whatever god was listening that his face hadn’t turned an embarrassing shade of red.
Judging from the look on Yennefer’s face, he wasn’t so lucky.
Geralt nodded, not betraying even a hint of a smile. He shook his hand back and answered in a gruff voice, “Geralt.”
But of course, Jaskier already knew that.
→ Baptism of Fire | E | 5k
A continuation of my previous fic, in which Geralt is an OnlyFans creator and Jaskier is his (simp) twitter manager
→ Weak and Wanting | E | 7k
Not surprisingly, Geralt didn’t budge. “Jaskier, how much have you had to drink?” he demanded after Jaskier’s palms bounced off of his chest.
“It’s not the alcohol! I’m serious! It's like you have no understanding of the stages to these kinds of things. I’ve seen you naked and talked you through fucking yourself but I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Jaskier clapped a hand over his mouth. “On second thought, I didn’t say that. Stop it, Geralt, why are you laughing?”
The corners of his mouth still twitched, but he did his best to hide his mirth for Jaskier’s sake.
“So, you do want to kiss me?” Geralt’s head tilted to the side. Despite his confident posture, he seemed...stiff.
He had the nerve to look embarrassed.
Jaskier clenched his hands into fists.
“Are you hesitating?” Jaskier seethed. “You’ve been playing all these games, but you have the nerve to be shy about it? Let me repeat myself, since you want to act all coy: I’ve seen your cock. You called me while you were - while you were fingering yourself to ask me to help. Why the hell are you looking at me like that? Of course I want to kiss you.”
→ Give Me One Good Movie Kiss (give me one good honest kiss and I'll be alright) | E | 4k
"It was...different from any other job he’d taken. Certainly a step up from backbreaking labor for minimum wage.
At least he was making tips. He’d never worked a job with tips before.
Geralt clicked his cellphone into the tripod by his bed and stripped his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it, along with his jeans and boxer briefs, into his clothing hamper in the corner. Usually, his audience liked a show. He’s learned to tease, make them wait, instead of turning the camera on fully nude with his cock hard in his hand. He got all dressed up just to slowly peel the clothes away. It was an art form, he’d learned over the past few months. Nothing like the clumsy or cheesy fumbling he believed it to be when he first signed up for an account. It was more like dancing.
He’d never been good at dancing, but he was good at sex, and that counted for something in this profession."
AKA The Bottoming Video from Geralt's POV
Electric Kisses and Lace by SweetestHoney | E | 21k
What Jaskier expected from parent-teacher night was some demanding parents, some stupid questions, and maybe some gossip about a few of the couples. What he got, however, was Geralt, father to one of his students, letting him know that he knew about Jaskier's second job and threatening to tell the school that Jaskier was a gay porn star. How does Jaskier handle this little revelation? Anything but gracefully, of course.
Or that one where Jask is on onlyfans and Geralt calls him out on it, leading to the worlds stupidest morons being dumb at each other for 20,000 words straight.
Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading!
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Majel Reads - February 2022
The Witcher - Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier
[What is this?]
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kiss me thru the phone by provocation
( @lambden)
Prompt: "I called you at 2am because I need you"
[Explicit] [1,910] [Read on AO3 here]
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Up to Date by provocation
"You were so hot that when you asked if I was the blind date you were looking for, I lied and said yes. But then your actual date comes up to introduce themselves and I'm so embarrassed." for Geralt/Jaskier.
[General Audiences] [2,382] [Read on AO3 here]
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on the wrong scent by provocation
Geralt can smell arousal on Jaskier all the time— so much so that he thinks that’s just what the bard smells like.
(Geraskier for the random alphabet challenge, N is for nostrils!)
[Explicit] [6,996] [Read on AO3 here]
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An Unorthodox Proposal by provocation
Prompt: "Geralt is hired to prevent Jaskier from disrupting a wedding bc Jaskier is an ex of and still hung up on the groom. This leads to Geralt comforting a distraught and drunk Jaskier."
[Teen And Up Audiences] [4,747] [Read on AO3 here]
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what if i'm someone i don't want around? by provocation
"If you wanted to- to invite me to your bed, you should have done it before you bound yourself to the side of a homicidal sorceress.”
(Geraskier for the alphabet drabble challenge, E is for exclusive!)
[Mature] [2,982] [Read on AO3 here]
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Not While By You I Stand And Hum by bamboo_astronaut
( @pinkhairedlesbianadventures)
“You. Student,” the witcher growls, voice rough and low.
“My name is Jaskier,” he answers, crossing his arms.
“Jaskier. You really want to help?”
“Yes,” he says, before he can question the safety or intelligence of it.
The man’s body tenses, as if bracing himself. “I need to get into the sewers underneath the university campus,” he says through gritted teeth as though it physically hurts him to have to make a request of Jaskier.
“You can’t get into them from the rest of the sewers?”
“No, they’re closed off.”
“Hmm.” Jaskier thinks about it. Considers it carefully. Then he says, “Okay. I have an idea. Follow my lead, witcher.”
(or: Jaskier is a bardic arts student at Oxenfurt University who finds new inspiration in a witcher with a reputation problem. Geralt is a witcher who finds himself oddly captivated by a bard who trusts a witcher without fear. Romance ensues.)
[Explicit] [100,995] [Read on AO3 here]
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warmth by not1_2write
Jaskier scrubs the blood from the floor in Kaer Morhen and ignores the burning pain from his right hand.
He's so cold but he doesn't dare light a fire.
[Teen And Up Audiences] [7,632] [Read on AO3 here]
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Lessons and Learnings by Samtree
( @samstree)
“I’m merely pointing out a fact, Jaskier, that you may not understand the matter of the heart as well as you believe.”
“Wow.” Jaskier licks the honey off his thumb. “I won’t take offense because you’re you, but let it be noted that I always know. Always! If someone is pursuing me, it will be so obvious the words might as well be written across their forehead.”
“Is it though? I reckon someone could be doing it right in your face and you wouldn’t recognize it.”
Or,
Jaskier teaches Geralt the art of courting. It’s all about paying attention to details, really, except he may be missing a few details himself.
[General Audiences] [1,348] [Read on AO3 here]
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clinging to the moment by not1_2write
"Let's go to Kaer Morhen for the winter," Jaskier mocks breathlessly. "It won't be as exciting as last year. We'll rest and recuperate, you said. A moment of peace, you said." Passed out against Jaskier's shoulder, Geralt does not answer. "We could have portaled in. Yennefer and Ciri are portaling to Kaer Morhen in a few weeks time but no. Geralt, oh Geralt hates portals! So we're going to walk up the fucking mountain during a fucking snowstorm."
Jaskier drags an unconscious Geralt up the mountain towards Kaer Morhen, cursing all the while. It takes a few days, some stitches and a fever (and stealing some of Lambert's ale) but eventually they do get a few moments of peace.
[Teen And Up Audiences] [7,749] [Read on AO3 here]
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No, I Don't by ghostinthelibrary
( @ghostinthelibrarywrites)
"I love you." The words tumble from Geralt's lips before he can stop them.
Jaskier's jaw drops, the smile vanishing from his lips.
Fuck. Geralt freezes, mouth opening and closing as the enormity of what he just said, how deeply he just fucked up, hits him. "No," he blurts out in a panic. "No, I don't."
Jaskier's jaw drops even further. "Uh..."
“It just slipped out.”
Jaskier makes a noise that might be a laugh or a gasp.
"Got to go," Geralt says and runs.
Geralt and Jaskier are trying to navigate their way through a brand new long-distance romance after a decade of friendship. So when Geralt accidentally tells Jaskier that he loves him, he panics. Just a little.
[Teen And Up Audiences] [5,611] [Read on AO3 here]
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Tale as Old as Time by CousinCecily
( @goodheavensgwen)
Fresh out of Oxenfurt and beginning his bardic career, Jaskier yearns for adventure. Following the whispers of a story, he finds himself in a crumbling old keep inhabited by an odd yet delightful group of enchanted furniture. As Jaskier celebrates finally finding something worthy of a song, his joy is cut short when a giant wolf-like beast emerges, thunderously forbidding Jaskier from ever leaving.
Now trapped in a strange enchanted castle, Jaskier finds himself growing closer and closer to its inhabitants, including the mysterious beast, who may not be as monstrous as Jaskier first thought.
Will love break the curse, or are things more complicated than they seem? After all… who could ever learn to love a beast?
[Explicit] [25,552] [Read on AO3 here]
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Witcher of Surprise by ghostinthelibrary
( @ghostinthelibrarywrites)
When Jaskier saves a farmer from plunging to his death, the grateful man offers him the Law of Surprise as a reward. Jaskier hopes for a newborn kitten or maybe a handful of eggs out of the deal, but they arrive at the man’s farm to learn that his wife has brought an injured witcher home to heal…and Jaskier now has a new husband. If only said extremely good looking husband weren’t Geralt of Rivia, the same witcher who left Jaskier in the woods outside Posada a decade before.
Geralt has already walked away from destiny once in Cintra and he intends to do it again. But every time he leaves Jaskier behind, something goes wrong. It might be destiny, it might be bad luck. Either way, he intends to find a way out of it. If only the bard weren't starting to grow on him.
[Explicit] [82,851] [Read on AO3 here]
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place your hand in mine (how long can this last) by Curlscat
( @curls-cat )
"What does the spell do?” Jaskier asks desperately. “Other than make Geralt cling to me, I mean?”
“Nothing else,” Yennefer says. Saintly. Smug. “You’ll be stuck with a second shadow for a week or two, though.”
“You can’t fix it?” Jaskier asks. Geralt’s hand is firmly inside Jaskier’s chemise, now, and he tweaks one of Jaskier’s nipples. Jaskier slaps at him and says, “Stop that!”
//
Jaskier accidentally gets Geralt cursed to want to touch him at all times. Since they still haven't really talked since Geralt broke Jaskier out of jail, this means Jaskier is doing a lot of pining. Geralt's probably having a rough time, too. Not that he'll say it out loud.
[Mature] [15,089] [Read on AO3 here]
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Let Nothing You Dismay by CousinCecily
( @goodheavensgwen)
“Kaer Morhen Wildlife Removal, Vesemir speaking.”
“Ah, hello.” Jaskier laughs nervously before forcing cheer into his voice. “Happy Yule! Are you who I ought to call about a bear?”
There’s a brief pause on the line. “You’ve seen a bear?”
---
Visiting his family for Yule, Jaskier is in the kitchen and in over his head. Calling wildlife removal on a holiday is the last thing he wants to be doing… until a handsome white-haired stranger turns up at his door.
[Teen And Up Audiences] [6,628] [Read on AO3 here]
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Three Words or Less by CousinCecily
( @goodheavensgwen)
Geralt has lived sixty-three years on the Path. He has slain countless monsters, bedded beautiful sorceresses, seen kingdoms rise and fall across the Continent. And he has never heard of a witcher with a soul bond.
As he stares at his arm in shock, he watches as another flower, nearly identical to the one he saw last month, is traced into his skin.
“Fuck.”
---
An AU where anything you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate.
[Teen And Up Audiences] [4,094] [Read on AO3 here]
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A Midsummer Night's Quarantine by CousinCecily
( @goodheavensgwen)
Jaskier squints, thoughtful. “You didn’t really answer my question, though. I asked your favorite part of the midsummer festival.”
Geralt stills and sets down his sword. “Don’t have one.”
“Oh come on Geralt,” he needles. “We’re stuck here, indulge me.”
“I don’t indulge you,” Geralt grumbles.
Jaskier waves his hand. “Of course you do, but you’re dodging the question.”
A beat passes. Jaskier stills.
“Geralt,” he starts quietly, “You have been to a midsummer festival, right?”
Ah, fuck.
---
Stuck in quarantine, Jaskier learns that Geralt has never celebrated midsummer. Determined, Jaskier decides he’s going to give Geralt the best midsummer festival he can, recreating holiday traditions using only what they have in their room. But will these traditions shed light on feelings they’ve both been trying to hide?
[Explicit] [9,210] [Read on AO3 here]
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baby, show me what it's like by jaskier
( @yeraskier)
“Oh fuck you.”
"You can.”
“I can?”
“Hm. If you can get it back up again," he teases.
Jaskier snatches the pillow from underneath Geralt’s head and smacks him in the face with it.
(or, the one where Geralt’s prostate is the key.)
[Explicit] [5,195] [Read on AO3 here]
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While the Crown Hangs Heavy on Either Side by stormandstarlight
( @storm-and-starlight)
Fifteen years ago, Valdo Marx Pankratz de Lettenhove picked up a saber, talked a pirate band into swearing to his banner, and set out to conquer the Continent, and to the surprise of every living lord and noble actually managed to do it. He pillaged, marauded, and called himself Emperor, and all the while his younger brother changed his name, became a bard, and fell in love with a witcher.
Ten years ago, Emperor Pankratz died, and Jaskier the bard took his place.
[Explicit] [12,382] [Read on AO3 here]
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I'll Sip The Sunlight From Your Eyes by stormandstarlight
( @storm-and-starlight)
Sunlight never reaches the deeps. Even in the shallow surface waters, the light is blue-dim and dappled -- not even the strongest rays reach the black, fathoms below. The only light there comes from what you carry with you, and for Geralt, that's plenty.
But Jaskier is a siren, of shallow waters and sunlight and the places where the sky meets the sea. No matter what he might say to Geralt, the deeps will never be his home, the dark and the cold and the crushing weight far too alien for him to be happy.
Lucky for them, then, that sunlight is never far away.
[Explicit] [ 5,135 ] [Read on AO3 here]
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blow me (one first kiss) by jaskiers
( @yeraskier)
“Jaskier’s another dear friend, then? You seem to have a lot of those, don’t you, father?”
(or the one where Ciri walks in on Geralt and Jaskier's first kiss.)
[Teen And Up Audiences] [1,659] [Read on AO3 here]
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(All summaries are the official summaries of the author. Stats and infos as according to hosting site or information given by the author. If any of the authors that have been tagged don’t want to be tagged, or if any of you know the tumblr names of the ones I haven’t tagged please let me know!)
Looking for more reading inspiration? Check out my fic rec tag here on tumblr, this month reading list masterpost for what I’ve read in other fandoms this month, my all-time reading list masterpost for more of this fandom or just check out my AO3 bookmarks.
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do you have any geraskier fic recs?
i in fact do. courtesy of myself and discord:
harrier by @agoodgoddamnshot: E, 31k, complete. jaskier is a witcher who meets geralt on the path, sexy times ensue.
a twist in time: E, 14k, complete. jaskier does not meet geralt in posada when he is supposed to. (mind the tags)
a full blown case of what is known by @crushcandles: E, 11k, complete. the relationship jaskier had over the winter affects his one with geralt. pining.
i will not kiss you by @a-kind-of-merry-war: E, 22k, complete. geralt gets cursed, he can't touch anyone.
the fear of falling apart by @storm-and-starlight: T, 10k, complete. jaskier is a selkie who pines for the ocean.
leaves by @all-hail-the-witcher: G, 2k, complete. geralt and jaskier separate early for the winter. geralt presses leaves to give him in the fall.
silver and steel: E, 78k (series), wip. jaskier’s father father tries to ruin his life by assigning a mysterious cassiline to guard him but the real mystery is why they aren't fucking yet
the god of scraped knees by @andthepeople: M, 8k, complete. jaskier used to be a sorcerer, but he doesn't want to remember what it feels like anymore.
the courting season: M, 47k, complete. geralt realizes that he is in love with jaskier one winter and he and his brothers research how to court a minor noble, however, jaskier is romantically clueless.
homo homini lupus est (man is wolf to man) by @inexplicifics: T, 7k, complete. more than a year after the dragon hunt, geralt needs rescuing and jaskier might be the only person who can manage it.
the accidental warlord and his pack by @inexplicifics: E, 342k (series), wip. jaskiers family gives him to the white wolf, the warlord of the north. but it is not what jaskier was expecting.
an exaltation of wolves by @round--robin: E, 124k (series), complete. jaskier comes to kaer morhen and discovers that the other wolves are just as prickly and just as deserving of love as geralt.
heart exhange by @jaskiersvalley: E, 78k, complete. geralt meets jaskier and he is so different than any other dom he's met before that he decides to push the limits (mind the tags)
lock & key: E, 9k, complete. jaskier suggests a chastity device to make himself a worthy travel companion and gives geralt the key.
julian by @vands38: E, 22k, complete. jaskier is a child prodigy burnout, geralt is a ballet dancer who has had a career altering accident, geralt sees a potential dance partner in jaskier, jaskier wants to get laid.
a horny bard and a confused witcher by @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde: M, 1.1k (series) wip. jaskier uses every single sexual tension inducing phrase and situation he can think of, but geralt just doesn't get it.
fuck indeed by @jaskierswolf: E, 8.7k, complete. jaskier starts an onlyfans account.
mom hugs and ice cream by @avengeful-bunny: T, 2.5k, complete. geralt gets dragged to a pride parade by his brothers, while there he comes across a woman giving out free mom hugs and meets jaskier.
cast a spell for your demon by @kueble: E, 11k (series), wip. geralt is a demon, jaskier travels with him.
time to wonder, do i dare? by @norationalthoughtrequired : M, 28k, complete. geralt owns a bookshop and allows jaskier to play outside. along the way they fall in love.
i dont like most people by @softdarlingjaskier: T, 2k, complete. geralt comes back from a bath upset, jaskier tries to make him feel better. softness ensues.
next to you by @lankygeralt: E, 42k, complete. jaskier is in college and falls in love with his best friend, ciris, dad.
incubus jaskier by @dat-carovieh: E, 12k (series), wip. jaskier is an incubus who needs sexual energy to survive.
i try so loud to love you. you cannot seem to hear. by @dat-carovieh: E, 18k, complete. jaskier is not shy about his love for geralt, but geralt denys having feelings. pining ensues.
in this realm of blood and sin by @feedingmyinsomnia: E, 24k, complete. an angsty fix it where jaskier makes bad life choices and geralt tries to fix the mess he made. (mind the warnings)
the kink club au by @feedingmyinsomnia: E, 48k (series), wip. a series of one shots (nsfw and sfw) for the geraskier kink club modern au.
may the blood freeze in my veins (let me rot within my grave) by @feedingmyinsomnia: M, 5.4k, complete. geralt gets a contract in lettenhove and meets jaskier, but the contract is causing him trouble.
there's a harshness in your voice and a softness in your hands by @damatris: T, 2.6k, complete. jaskier gets hurt trying to defend geralt.
in your arms (i feel loved) by @damatris: T, 2.8k, complete. five times jaskier hugged geralt and one time geralt hugged jaskier.
the fae went down to touissant by @professorjaskier: G, 5k, complete. a fae claims that she can play the lute better than jaskier can. a devil went down to georgia au.
im only human after all by @ghostinthelibrarywrites: M, 87k, complete. geralt is a vigilante by night and a reporter by day. jaskier is his ex and obsessed with the witcher, geralts vigilante alter ego. but when geralt is blackmailed, jaskier gets involved.
soulmates by @officerjennie: T, 6k, complete. geralt is on a self loathing streak and jasper is not taking any of his shit. (see warnings)
fingertips by @dapandapod: G, 1k, complete. jaskier is too stressed to sleep and geralt wants to help.
hollow by @dapandapod: M, 9k, complete. jaskier loses his memory of geralt, geralt tries to let him go but they get pulled back to each other.
fair by @comfyswitcherblanketfort: G, 1.5k, complete. geralt and jaskier are in love, decades of mutual pining and accidental love confessions ensue. based on fair by the amazing devil.
sweater weather by @wherethewordsare: E, 4.6k, complete. geralt leaves his hoodie at jaskiers and that's the last push they need to get together.
you're only brave in the moonlight (stay till sunrise) by @yoursummerfrost: E, 29k, complete. jaskier falls in love with his college roommate. a slow burn.
a warm reunion after a cold winter by @elliestormfound: T, 1.2k, complete. geralt and jaskiers first hug after the winter lasted a little longer than usual.
rugby geralt au by @reallooney: T, 68k (series), wip. geralt is captain of the rugby team, jaskier is a music student. they are together, but during one spring semester geralt befalls a series of unfortunate luck, the following fall, the same happens to jaskier. or: the boys take care of each other and its very soft.
i was burning up with fever ( i didnt care how long i lived): G, 4k, complete. jaskier has the flu. geralt, lambert and eskel (mistakenly) think that he's dying.
say yes to the dress au by @all-hail-the-witcher: T, 2k (series), wip. jaskier is a bridal consultant (or randy with the personality of david emmanuel) at kleinfelds. geralt is the mysterious dress designer that rarely makes public appearances.
#the witcher#the witcher fic rec#witcher fic rec#witcher fics#geraskier#geraskier fic#geraskier fic rec#geralt#jaskier#not a tag#from saph#dear people who are not in the bog who are recced here: we all love your work#and in case you're wondering why an ao3 blog is reccing witcher fics#my main is all-hail-the-witcher
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I love you. I've been doing my best not to, but I do.
Pairing: Jaskier x (Fem)Reader
Summary: Goind back to Oxenfurt was never exactly easy for Jaskier, because it always reminded him of his broken heart. It's finally time that he told Geralt just what had happened, and that he was anxious to see you again.
Warnings: angst, hurt and comfort I guees? (I'm not good at warnings, help)
Word count: 3961
A/N: It's the middle of the night, but I had to finish it, so you get another one that's not proofread. Sorry in advance. This is another prompt I found on one of @soulprompts lists (A Quiet Love) because I immediately had this in mind and had to write it down.
Flashbacks in italics <3
Part 2
Part 3
Going back to Oxenfurt was something Jaskier always dreaded, but was looking forward to at the same time. On the one hand, this place held so many wonderful memories, on the other, there had been a reason why he'd left in the first place, why he'd wandered around, going from place to place.
You.
The one person he'd given his heart to and the one person to shatter it into a million pieces. Every time he returned to Oxenfurt, he wondered whether he'd see you, how you were doing, but at the same time, he was afraid to set eyes on you, because in all these years, he'd never forgotten you, no matter how hard he'd tried, how many women had been in his bed. Because that was the only place they'd been. Not of them had managed to open the locks he'd put around his heart to protect it after he'd finally managed to piece it back together – though there was still a piece missing. A piece that you'd kept, that would make him whole again, but he'd given up on that ages ago.
“Jaskier.” Geralt's voice brought him back to reality, ripped him from the memories that had engulfed him just a second ago.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” With an apologetic smile, he looked at the witcher. He'd been so lost in thought, that he'd completely zoned out and not heard a word the other had been saying. How long had Geralt been talking? Jaskier was usually so perceptive, but every time they'd travelled to Oxenfurt together, something was off with the bard, and Geralt had noticed it.
“Are you finally going to tell me what's up with you?” Leading Roach by the reins, Geralt was walking right next to Jaskier, trying to figure out what was going on. Once he'd asked, but Jaskier had just dismissed him, saying that it was strange to come here after a long time. After that, he hadn't asked again, but his behaviour had become even stranger than before, and Geralt simply had to know, because by now, he was getting increasingly worried.
“It's nothing, really,” Jaskier dismissed him again, but one look at Geralt, and he knew that he wouldn't get away with that bullshit answer this time. With a sigh, he looked straight ahead before opening his mouth again. “It's a matter of the heart. A story of all the beauties of a first love, and the pain of losing that one person, getting your heart broken by the one person you'd thought you'd never let go.” The one story Jaskier hadn't turned into a song, but the one that explained so much about him.
The two of you met while Jaskier was still a student at Oxenfurt Academy. Friends had introduced you to each other, and ever since then, you'd practically been inseparable. It was strange, how one person could touch your heart with just a simple look, but after some time as just friends, you'd realized how much you'd fallen for him, for his wit, his poetry, and even his eccentrics sometimes. Still, it came as sheer surprise, when Jaskier kissed you one evening. Sure, there'd been a little bit of alcohol involved, but neither of you were drunk. In fact, he told you later on, that the alcohol had simply calmed his nerves a bit and had made him take that step. He'd been wanting to kiss you practically since the first time he'd laid eyes on you.
“Then why did you wait so long?” You asked with a laugh, pulling him towards you for another kiss. He'd made your heart beat faster, made that flutter in your stomach increase, and every time you looked at him, you felt like you could burst with joy. That first love is something special, and really, you both thought that it would last a lifetime. A lifetime filled with laughter, love, and lots of music that Jaskier played for you. And of course a family all of your own, because even then, the two of you wanted the same for your future.
“Let me guess... you couldn't help yourself and flirted with all the other beautiful women out there. Broke the poor girl's heart?” The Witcher smirked at his companion, because that was the behaviour, he'd watched all those years. Jaskier charming his way into every other woman's undergarments, no matter if she was on her own or had a husband waiting at home. What he didn't know was what had led to this kind of behaviour, but he was about to find out.
“Quite the contrary... she was the one to break my heart.”
Geralt smirk was swiped off his face. Here he'd thought that the bard was afraid of facing you again, because he'd hurt you and wasn't sure what kind of wrath you would unleash on him once you got your hands on Jaskier. But that it had been you to break his heart... that was something Geralt never would have guessed.
“I'm sorry Jaskier. I -”
“How should you have known?” Jaskier cut him off, giving him a crooked smile. “It's only natural that you would assume that. She broke my heart into a million pieces, and I managed to piece it back together, but some part is still missing.”
Hearing this story after so many years with Jaskier on the road made Geralt feel like there was still so much he didn't know. Usually, Jaskier was an open book, sang about the adventures, about his conquests, but he'd never said or sung a word about this story. That only showed how much you probably still meant to him.
“What happened?” Geralt eventually asked when Jaskier didn't keep the story going. But now that he'd started, the Witcher wanted to know the whole story, and Jaskier told him...
Jaskier had finished his studies, had the ring for you in his pocket, because to him it was clear that he would marry you. You'd talked about travelling together, seeing the world, not sure when you would settle down, but someday you would. All that mattered, was that the two of you were together. You had no idea that he was going to propose, but you'd talked about someday getting married. Where and when, that had never been on the table, so you thought, that you would wait till after you'd travelled a bit. Right now, it was about you and Jaskier, everything the two of you wanted, and you were really looking forward to it. The only problem was, that your father didn't want to let you go. He needed you at home to help him, and though you'd done everything for him in the past years, Jaskier had made you realize that you had to do something for yourself as well. Family was important, yes, he'd never said anything against that, but it was your life. Your choice. You'd been debating about this with your father for days. You wanted to see the world, wanted to travel with the love of your life. In the end, your father had just waved his hand in your face and closed the discussion.
Before you left with Jaskier – because you'd made your mind up about that, deciding for yourself, for your life, that you would leave Oxenfurt – you still had some things to take care of, some chores for your father so that he would get along until your cousin arrived to live with him. She wanted to study at the academy, just like you had, and in exchange for living here, she'd take on your chores, live in your room, take care of your father. Something you'd decided with her, and hadn't told your father about yet, but he would be happy as long as someone took care of the house and cooked for him.
Jaskier knew that you were out of the house when he knocked on the door, wanting to speak to your father, so that he could ask for your hand in marriage. After all, he wanted to do everything right and not just rip you from your home. He wanted to make sure that your father knew just how much you meant to him, that he loved you and would make sure that you were happy.
“She hasn't told you?” Your father said to him, a smirk on his lips before he shook his head. “You wanna know why you haven't seen her the last couple of days?”
Jaskier's brows drew together in confusion. You'd told him that you needed to take care of a few things and would be busy, but you'd meet tonight to finalize your plans, see when you would finally leave Oxenfurt.
“She met someone else. Sorry, that I have to tell you that, my lad. That's where she's been all this time. No errands, no duties or whatever she told you. She'd been with her new man, who can give her so much more than you can. Guess she didn't have the courage to tell you.”
Jaskier blinked. Once, twice, trying to comprehend what he'd just heard. This couldn't be true, could it? He trusted you, he loved you, but he could already feel his heart break at the thought of another man's hands on your body. He had to hear that from you, so without another word, he turned on his heels, wrapping his hand tighter around the rings in his pocket.
It took him some time to find you, but he was glad that he only saw you from a distance, laughing with some guy he'd never seen before, before that man pulled you into his arms. He could hear his own heart shatter, the gut-wrenching feeling inside him nothing like he'd ever felt before. Nothing that he ever wanted to experience again.
Geralt was silent for a moment, watching the bard, whose usually so bright blue eyes were now clouded over with sadness. He hated seeing Jaskier like this, even though his talkative, bubbly self could really get in the Witcher's nerves, he preferred that to the way Jaskier was now.
“That certainly explains your behaviour,” Geralt said. Because who would want to get their heart broken like that again? Meaningless affairs, sharing the bed for a night was nothing that involved the heart, and the way Jaskier spoke about you, it was clear just how much he'd loved you. Even though you'd broken his heart, broken him, there was still the hint of a smile on his face whenever he said your name.
“Mmhh,” Jaskier simply mumbled, because indeed, it explained a lot about his behaviour, but all that didn't fill the empty spot in his heart that he'd desperately tried to fill somehow. Travelling with Geralt, seeing so many places, performing his songs... these were things that made him happy. As happy as he could be, but it wasn't what he'd dreamed of. In his dreams, there had always been you, even now.
They were staying at an Inn, where Jaskier was welcomed with open arms. Former students he'd taught were there, and of course they demanded that he take the stage. What a question! Of course, that had been his plan all along, and as soon as he started singing, he was completely in his element. Geralt was somewhere in the back, enjoying seeing Jaskier being his old self after the story he'd told him today. Singing always made Jaskier... free. That was probably the best way to describe it. Nothing made him feel as good as standing on the stage hearing the crowd cheer and sing along. Seeing him like this made the corners of Geralt's lips twitch up in a smile.
After a couple of songs, something changed, though. Geralt sensed it, and when he followed Jaskier's gaze, he could guess what had just happened – or rather who.
You'd listened to the last two songs, drawn here by the voice you hadn't heard in years. You hadn't seen Jaskier since before he'd left Oxenfurt, when you'd actually wanted to leave together. Your father had told you that Jaskier had come to say goodbye, that he wanted to leave without you. You didn't understand, and you'd never gotten an explanation from him. This was the first time after years and years of wondering what you'd done wrong, that you looked him in the eyes, albeit from a distance.
Jaskier's voice faltered, but he composed himself again to finish this goddamn song. Just the last lyrics and he could get out of here, get some fresh air. And so he did. He thanked the audience and excused himself, because he had to grab something to drink. But instead, he went straight out the back door. Geralt was ready to go after him, but when he saw you do the same, he decided to stay where he was. Maybe, it was time, Jaskier got some closure, so that he wouldn't freak out every time they came here. Maybe, he just had to let his frustration out and tell you that you'd broken his heart – and Geralt would be waiting for Jaskier to give him all the alcohol he needed to drown his feelings.
Jaskier pulled fresh air into his lungs and closed his eyes. Sure, he knew that he could run into you here, he'd always kind of expected it, but at the same time he'd tried to avoid the places you liked to go. But years had passed, he'd changed, and apparently so had you. Seeing you in there had made him feel all kinds of emotions. Anger, pain, longing... He'd missed you, he'd always known that, but it was only clear now just how much he'd missed you, how much he longed to pull you into his arms and smell that familiar scent of flowers and a hint of vanilla. It didn't help that you looked just as beautiful as the last time he'd seen you. More beautiful even, though he hated to admit that to himself.
“Geralt, I'm fine,” he said when he heard the door behind him open and close again, sure that it was the Witcher coming to look after him. But when he turned around, he saw you right in front of him, not that much distance between you anymore. “Y/N...”
Hearing your name from his lips, sent a slight shiver down your spine. It had been so long since you'd heard him say it, that you'd nearly forgotten what it sounded like. The slight rasp in his voice that always got to you...
“Jaskier... It's nice to see you.” Because even though he'd left you all alone here, and you were still waiting, hoping for an explanation, it was nice to see him. To see that he was doing good, that he was healthy, and just as breathtaking as ever.
“I wish I could say the same.” Jaskier shook his head, immediately regretting what he'd said when he saw the hurt in your eyes. Even after everything he'd been through, he didn't want to hurt you, but his heart was aching, and he had to protect himself, make sure that he didn't let you get too close to him, because his heart would not survive being broken again like that.
“I'm sorry, but... What have I ever done to you? You were the one who left me here all alone without a word.” He could hear the pain in your words, but right now, it didn't matter. Here you were asking him why he'd left, when you damn well knew what you'd done? What was this? Some kind of joke?
“Are you really playing dumb right now? You didn't want to be with me, so I left without you.” Jaskier threw his hands up, ran them through his hair afterwards trying to regain his composure. It wasn't like him to get loud, but years and years of burying this pain deep inside him, bubbled to the surface, making him angry.
“What?” You blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. “Jaskier, I loved you for crying out loud.” You took a step towards him, throwing caution to the wind, because this was your only chance to get back what you'd been missing all this time. “I love you!” Present tense, not past. “I've been doing my best not to, but I do. I love you!” Tears were brimming in your eyes, because you'd missed him, missed being around him, and standing here right in front of him only made it more clear to you.
Gods, he wanted to wrap his arms around you and pull you tight against his chest, never letting you go again, but he didn't. He couldn't do it, because: “Then why did you let that other man into your life, into your bed? You told me you had things to do, but instead you were with him, because he was so much better than me.”
“What are you talking about?” Genuine confusion was shining in your eyes. “What man? Jaskier, what do you mean?” You took another step towards him, reaching for his hands, relieved when he didn't pull away from you. Tingles worked their way up your arm from where your fingertips were touching his skin.
“Your father told me that you were seeing somebody else, that you'd been lying to me.” His voice was quiet and he couldn't look you in the eyes, afraid that you might see just how much it pained him to think about this. “I didn't want to believe him, because I was holding out hope that it wasn't true. But then I saw you with him.. laughing, hugging him and I knew... I knew that I wasn't good enough.”
Your heart stopped. Thinking back to the day Jaskier had left with your heart in tow, you realized what he must have seen. It was almost funny, were it not for two people being left with broken hearts.
“Jaskier,” you said softly, gently squeezing his hands in hopes that he would look up at you – and he did. He looked so vulnerable right now, that it was hard for you to speak for a moment, but then you managed. “You are good enough. More than that actually, and never doubt that. But that man you saw... That was my brother.”
“Your -”
“Brother, yes.” You let go of his hands again, taking a step back. All this pain, all these years alone with a heart that longed for the one person right in front of you, because your father had told some lies so that you wouldn't leave him. “He'd been gone for nearly three years, and we hadn't expected him back at that time, so it was a big surprise. I had to tell him about everything that had happened.” You swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat, remembering the conversation you'd had with your big brother. “I told him about you, about our plans, and he was so happy for me... for us and wanted to get to know you. And then you were gone. Without me because you didn't want me on this journey with you anymore.”
“That's not true!” Jaskier immediately shook his head, which was already spinning from what he'd just found out. Your brother. Gods, how could he have been so stupid to believe your father without talking to you? He shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, but it was too late now.
“I know that now. And I hope you do know that I never wanted to be with any other man. I only wanted to be with you.” You wiped the tears away taking a deep breath. All these years of heartbreak could have been avoided, but here you were now, finally resolving this situation. Hopefully.
“I never would have left without you, Y/N... Gods, I was there to ask you father's permission to marry you.” Your eyes widened at that confession. Sure, you'd talked about getting married, but you hadn't known that Jaskier had already taken steps to really make it happen. “I even had the rings, and only wanted to ask your father first before I asked you.”
“Jask...” Your voice broke and the tears fell again. It was everything you'd wanted, and it had been taken from the two of you by your selfish father. You felt Jaskier's strong arms wrap around your shaking body. You don't know for how long he simply held you like this, gently running his hand up and down your back to soothe you, to calm you a little bit. Now that he knew that there hadn't been another man in your life at that time, he was a lot calmer himself. All the anger seemed to have vanished.
When the backdoor do the Inn opened again, it was Geralt who by now was concerned about the bard, but he only took one look at the two of you in such a tight embrace, that he turned around again to give you some privacy, a content smile on his lips.
“We cannot change what happened,” his soft voice spoke into your ear, making you only hold on tighter to him. “But we can go from here. If you want that is.”
Slowly, you raised your head again, eyes a little puffy from all the crying, but you managed to crack a smile. “Is that even a question? I mean... I told you that I still love you, so-”
His lips on yours shut you up pretty quickly. You hadn't expected that kiss, but it was oh so welcome. Your body melted against his, your grip loosening on his clothes, fingers slowly stroking up to his shoulders, settling in the back of his neck. Your lips only parted when you both needed to draw some air into your lungs. Jaskier chuckled against your lips, raising his right hand to push some loose strands from your face.
“I never stopped loving you.” His words made your heart beat even faster. It had been so long since you'd last seen him, and now, everything seemed to be falling into place again. “I wanted to forget you, I tried my best to do so, but never managed.” He pulled the chain around his neck from beneath his doublet, revealing a tuning fork and two rings on it. “I never let go of these either.”
“You... kept them?” Amazed you looked up at him, reaching for the rings, feeling the cold metal against your fingertips. All these years, he'd held onto the rings, and it filled your heart with even more love for Jaskier that you could ever have imagined.
“Of course. Maybe, there was some part of me that hoped I might still get the chance to put that ring on your finger and call you mine.”
“Jaskier...” Your voice was soft, your right hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I've always been yours.” And to show him that there was no doubt about this, you kissed him with all the love you had, all the longing for the man right in front of him – and he kissed you back with so much need, that it made you knees weak.
You both had been left with a broken heart, but right now, you were patching each other's back together again, making sure that one missing piece was finally in place again.
#jaskier#the witcher fanfic#jaskier fanfic#jaskier imagine#jaskier x you#jaskier x reader#jaskier x y/n#jaskier x fem!reader#the witcher imagine#jaskier my beloved#staffi writes#my writing#sorry i had to break his heart to patch it up again
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As You Wish ✨💙
“Geralt!” Jaskier whined. “You HAVE to wear a costume.”
Geralt raised an eyebrow, but otherwise ignored his roommate as he continued chopping potatoes.
Jaskier threw his hands in the air. “There is absolutely a law against hosting a Halloween party and not dressing up!”
Geralt slid the potatoes into the pot and reached for the carrots.
“Oh, I see. We’re doing that thing where you pretend you can’t hear me,” Jaskier sighed, tapping his fingers on the counter.
“I can hear you,” Geralt muttered as he chopped. “I’m just not wearing a costume.” He side-eyed the bags Jaskier had draped over the kitchen table.
“But I already RENTED them,” Jaskier complained as he picked up the spoon to stir the stew.
Geralt frowned and took the spoon from him. “Don’t touch.”
"Your costume is entirely black!" Jaskier pouted. "It's perfect for you!"
The chef went back to ignoring him as he slid the carrots into the pot.
Jaskier pursed his lips and glared, mind whirring. “What if I cook dinner every night for an entire month?”
The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched. “Pass.”
Jaskier gasped indignantly. “Rude!”
Geralt stirred, trying not to smile.
“I’ll do all the laundry!” Jaskier tried.
Geralt grunted as he shook his head and added some salt.
“Pleeeeease...” Jaskier gave up on the bargaining and went back to begging. “I cannot be Buttercup with the Dread Pirate Roberts! It’s pointless!”
“Buttercup can stand on her own,” Geralt countered. “She’s iconic.”
Jaskier sagged against the counter with a groan.
“Maybe Lambert or Eskel could be Westley?” Geralt suggested, trying to be helpful.
“But I want to do a costume with you, ” Jaskier mumbled, fiddling with the jars of spices Geralt had out.
Geralt put the spoon down and looked at Jaskier. “Why me?”
Jaskier laughed softly and shook his head. “For someone so smart, Geralt Rivia, you sure are an idiot.” He pushed off the counter and grabbed his phone. “I guess I’ll text Lambert.”
“Wait...” Geralt’s arm shot out and grabbed Jaskier’s wrist. “What does that mean, I’m an idiot?”
Jaskier’s eyes met Geralt’s. “Do you really not know?”
“Know what?”
“For Melitele’s sake, Geralt...” Jaskier shook his head. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I love the way you pretend not to care about anything, but you do, deeply. I love the way you treat everyone as an equal. I love the way you chop the peppers and onions so small for the nachos because you know that's how I like them. I love how you work so hard for your students because you believe each one can achieve great things. And I love how you look in black,” Jaskier chuckled, taking in Geralt’s usual outfit. “Fuck. I can’t believe I’m saying this. But I love you so much, I don’t even care. I know you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay. All I’m asking...” he took a deep breath and stared hard into Geralt’s wide eyes “...is for you to wear that fucking costume with me on Halloween.”
Geralt threw the spoon onto the counter and took Jaskier’s hands. “I...” And then he kissed him.
Jaskier made a noise of surprise, but his hands quickly wound their way around Geralt’s waist, sliding up his broad back. Geralt’s fingers wrapped around Jaskier’s jaw and threaded through his soft hair
When they finally pulled back, gasping for air, they watched each other in silence, eyes wide and blinking. They ignored the strew about to bubble over.
“Does this mean you’ll be Dread Pirates Roberts?” Jaskier finally asked, still short of breath.
Geralt smiled at him, tilting his head. “As you wish.”
#geraskier#the witcher#geraskier fluff#fluff#drabble#modern au#omg they were roommates#idiots to lovers#mutual pining#Halloween#halloween costumes#princess buttercup#dread pirate roberts#the princess bride#couples costumes#geralt of rivia#Jaskier#geralt x jaskier#first kiss#getting together
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72 for Geralt/Jaskier?
I meant to post this a lot earlier... sorry about the wait, nonnie. I hope you like it anyway. I'm not sure how it came out in the end after I agonised over this for the past couple of days, but it was fun going back to my Geraskier roots.
Masterlist
Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier
Prompt 72: Character A has a secret. Character B does whatever they can to find out what it is. When they find out, they wish they hadn't.
Warnings: brief angsty episode, mention of Geralt's traumatic childhood
Also, I love that art! Holy Shit!? So of course this had to feature before the fic <3
Travelling with Jaskier had its downfalls.
For one, the bard talks a lot. He never stops, not even in his sleep, and that would drive any man insane if you ask Geralt. He listens to Jaskier waffling about poetry all day, every day, he doesn’t have to endure a lecture on the benefits of iambic pentameters when he’s trying to fall asleep, thank you very much. Jaskier also likes to complain about every little thing that causes him discomfort, which when they’re on the path, ranges from fly bites all the way to sore feet. Travelling with a human also means that they travel considerably slower, unless they’re both riding on top of Roach, but Geralt doesn’t like putting his best girl under that kind of strain very often.
For all of Jaskier’s flaws, Geralt would hate to have to separate from his bard. At least, when Jaskier is close by, Geralt can keep an eye on him and make sure Jaskier doesn’t get himself into any unnecessary trouble. Having Jaskier travel with him gives Geralt peace of mind. He appreciates the singing as well, even if he could stand to tell Jaskier this a bit more often. Geralt deems that his bard’s ego is plenty inflated without Geralt making it worse. Not to mention that life always seems a little bit brighter when Jaskier is around, and the nights are a little less lonely as Geralt gets to pull his bard close and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart. Knowing that Jaskier is safe is the only thing that lets Geralt sleep peacefully at night.
You’d think that after nearly two decades of knowing his bard, Geralt would have figured out Jaskier’s secret by now. Geralt is, of course, referring to Jaskier’s near supernatural ability to always come up with coin when he and Geralt need it most urgently. Geralt has no idea how the bard does it - his songs are popular, granted, and on a good night Jaskier makes enough to buy a nice room for the night and the better pieces of meat from the kitchen. Still, being a bard doesn’t pay that well, not even if you were as famous as Jaskier. Just last week, Geralt’s horse and most of his belonging were stolen by bandits, leaving Geralt travelling on foot and too poor to afford to buy a new horse. Two days later, Jaskier came trotting up to their camp atop a gorgeous mare, looking mighty pleased with himself but refusing to tell Geralt how he managed to afford to pay for the horse.
“Would you believe me if I told you I stole her, Geralt, my dear?”
“Not in a million years,” Geralt admitted deadpan, pulling an offended squawk from his songbird.
“Just because I’m a bard you don’t think I can steal a horse?”
“I don’t think you could ever steal a horse because you’re as stealthy as the proverbial bull in the porcelain shop.”
It’s not just the horse, though. Geralt’s armour needed replacing and good armour doesn’’t come cheaply. Geralt doesn’t hire the services of just any blacksmith or armourer to craft his weapons and protective gear. He has his regular suppliers, the ones he always goes back to because he knows that their work is reliable and of the highest quality. And even though these people know Geralt by now, even offer him a friends and family discount on occasion, their wares still come at a hefty price. Geralt, as it turns out, didn’t have the coin to replace his armour for a few months. He desperately needed new boots, though. A new pair of breeches wouldn’t hurt either, and his silver sword broke in half whilst fighting a particularly vicious griffin a few weeks back.
Geralt didn’t even mention all of this to Jaskier. That didn’t stop the bard from going ahead and commissioning a brand new suit of armour, new silver and steel swords, as well as a few casual clothes for Geralt to wear on the warmer summer days. All of this must have cost an arm, a leg and a fucking lung, and yet Jaskier acted like he didn’t just break the bank all for Geralt’s benefit. He didn’t even get anything for himself and that realisation had Geralt feeling slightly embarrassed about the gesture.
“You don’t have to buy me all this stuff, Jask.”
“I know that, dearest,” Jaskier assured him, eyes soft and an easy smile playing on his lips, “but I wanted to. Only the best for you, my sweet witcher.”
The mystery of where Jaskier managed to find the coin to pay for all this remains unsolved, despite Geralt’s questioning. Well, if Jaskier won’t outright tell him, then Geralt will just have to investigate the matter by himself.
"Where the fuck did you get your hand on all the coin to pay for all this?" Geralt asks one evening, blunt and straight to the point. There was probably a kinder and gentler way to ask this, but after spending weeks mulling over Jaskier's sudden new-found fortune, Geralt has lost the little patience he possessed in the matter. Jaskier, on the other hand, looks perfectly unperturbed.
"From the bank," he offers simply as he sprinkles expensive herbs over the hare Geralt caught earlier that evening, "you know, where people deposit their valuables? I know you witchers don't believe in bank accounts, savings and interests, but-"
"Where does the coin come from?" Geralt interrupts, hissing those words through clenched teeth.
"Why, my inheritance."
Geralt stares for a long while. It takes his brain several seconds to catch up to what Jaskier is telling him, and another few seconds to make sense of the words. Inheritance?
"What inheritance?"
"Well, when my father passed away he left me and my siblings a share of his wealth. That's how inheritance works. Say, pass me my satchel my dear, I think I have some more spices in there."
Geralt wordlessly hands Jaskier his satchel, still trying to process this new discovery. Come to think of it, Geralt knows precious little about Jaskier's family. Sure, that's probably on him for never asking, but Geralt has grown so used to Jaskier oversharing every aspect of his life that he never needed to ask his bard anything. Jaskier just… never talked about his family. Or his childhood, or his upbringing. His life story seems to always begin when he was a student at Oxenfurt.
Geralt is growing curiouser by the minute.
"When did your father pass?"
"Oh? Uh… good question. Maybe a few years after I went to Oxenfurt? I'm not sure. I received a letter from the bank notifying me that a share of my father's wealth was deposited in my account."
Geralt frowns. "You never went back to find out what happened?"
"No."
Well, that's an oddly abrupt response, and Jaskier doesn't seem like he's got anything to say on the matter. Which only makes Geralt feel more curious about the whole thing.
"Why not?"
"Geralt…" Jaskier heaves a sigh before putting on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, too tense to be genuine. "My father and I didn't get along. I felt no need to go mourn him with the rest of my noble family in Lettenhove when he passed. That's it. That's all there's to it. I was not a good enough man to refuse my share of the inheritance, either, despite my non-existent relationship with him."
That's a lot to unpack. Geralt always assumed that Jaskier had a good childhood. Then again, he would think that, wouldn't he, considering Geralt spent his own childhood being tortured by magnanimous and sadistic mages. Where most children got to spend time outside helping out in the fields or playing with their friends, Geralt was put through drill after drill, after drill… until he was physically unable to walk so much his muscles hurt.
"Wait… did you say your noble family?"
"Hm?"
"In Lettenhove… there's nothing in Lettenhove. Only the Viscount and his family live there on a large esta-" Geralt's mouth clicks shut as realisation dawns on him. "Your father was the Viscount of Lettenhove?"
"Yes. And since I'm the oldest, after he died that title passed onto me. But I much prefer being a bard, so I graciously devolved my duties to my younger brother, who now manages the estate. Are we done with this conversation?"
"I didn't mean to make you mad…"
Geralt watches Jaskier stop dead in his tracks, his shoulders briefly tensing at those words, before exhaling loudly through his nose. Jaskier anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he straightens up and offers Geralt a sheepish smile, that one warmer and softer than the previous one.
"Sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It's just… well, there's a reason I don't bring up my family all that much."
"Hm." Geralt gently taps the spot next to him on his bedroll, and Jaskier doesn't have to be told twice. Soon, Geralt has one arm wound tightly around Jaskier's shoulders. Not quite a hug, but the intention is there all the same, and Jaskier eagerly melts in the embrace. "I shouldn't have insisted. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong." Jaskier nuzzles the crook of Geralt's neck sweetly before depositing a featherlight kiss just over his pulse point. "Do you want to ask me anything?"
Geralt ponders over that question far too long before whispering an answer in the air pocket between them.
"Did he hurt you?"
Jaskier hesitates.
"Not physically, no. He didn't approve of my aspirations and choices. He didn't support me. I suppose it hurt a little when he didn't see me away to Oxenfurt at the age of 15, but he never raised a hand on me."
"Hm." Good, Geralt thinks. No child should ever have to suffer at the hand of an adult. Geralt earned plenty a beating at Kaer Morhen, some justified and others not so much. Just because he went through this doesn't mean he condones it.
"At least I get to spend his money on someone I love," Jaskier offers softly, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean glancing up at Geralt through dark lashes, “That, at least, the old man can’t take away from me.”
A happy little rumble bubbles up Geralt's chest, despite the blush gracing his cheeks.
"I never thanked you for the gifts." Geralt blushes a deeper shade of red at the realisation. "Sorry. It's been a long year."
"Well, good thing we're heading North soon then, hm?" Jaskier straightens up so he can cradle Geralt's face in his lute-calloused hands. Their eyes meet then, amber seeking out blue, and Geralt thinks that he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in all the Continent.
"Yes," he agrees in a whisper, tilting his face to place a kiss on the inside of Jaskier's wrist, "good thing, indeed."
Request a prompt
#havenwrites#the witcher#wiedzmin#geralt of rivia#geralt z rivii#the witcher geralt#geralt#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#dandelion#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#geralt/jaskier#jaskier/geralt#dandelion x geralt#geralt/dandelion#request open
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How about-Hanahaki disease? Gerald/Jaskier? Happy ending please!
Nonny! Darling you read my mind, I’m an ‘angst with a happy ending’ kinda gal. Just so we’re clear, I know nothing of flower meanings and I didn’t research.
TW: Gore
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Jaskier first coughed up a flower at age three.
Poets loved Hanahaki, it was considered romantic, and those prone to it were tragic beauties, destined to languish, delicately spitting blood and rose petals into a silk handkerchief. No one really wrote about how it could be brought on by deeply unrequited platonic love.
Jaskier coughed a violet into his little fist and brought it to his mother, who turned him away.
Fifteen years down the line and having graduated Oxenfurt with honors, Jaskier was old hat at taking care of Hanahaki. His feelings, although often unrequited, were also often fleeting. A night spent coughing tulips into a bowl and a sore throat the next mroning, but rarely more than that.
If it persisted for a week or more there was tea. Any apothecary in even a mid sized city carried it. It was putrid and thick and slid down the throat like a cup of slugs, but in the morning there were no petals, and after two or three days of the stuff, the disease was gone.
He was almost thankful for being so prone to Hanahaki, it was romantic and lended much to his chosen profession. People gave him sympathetic looks and free drinks if he sang a sad song and discreetly spat a rose petal into a handkerchief. Most of the time he simply didn’t mind it, and considered himself twice blessed with his mobile heart.
Sometimes he had nightmares of what would happen if he found true love.
The notions of true love itself was romantic, but everyone knew that your true love, the one you were fated to, if they didn’t love you in return no tea would save you.
He’d watched a friend, a grad student at Oxenfurt, die of it. It was no delicate coughing into handkerchiefs, no poetic languishing. He’d held her hair back as she threw up petals and blood, crying as she clutched the bucket with skeletal hands because she could no longer force food down a torn throat.
It had been so slow, she’d said between pulling thorned stems from her mouth. More than a decade of loving the boy she’d had a crush on in her small town village. She’d lived through it all, only occassionally throwing up flowers. Always snow white roses, for him, apparently. It would have been wonderfully artistic if Jaskier didn’t know how they looked covered in blood.
Then she’d gone to his wedding to the baker’s daughter and two weeks later he watched her cough out roots wrapped around a chunk of lung and screamed for a doctor knowing it was too late. The blood stain never washed fully out of the floor.
And she’d said it was worth it. That she wouldn’t have stopped loving him for the world, even as she said it through a throat full of thorns.
Jaskier never understood it, leaping from town to town, avoiding long term connections while knowing all the while that if fate wanted him to fall in love he would. Denying Destiny only made things nastier, he knew. And then, in a tevern in Posada, with bread in his pants and a hole in his boot, his eyes met pure gold.
It took a split second, less probably, for him to realize that, although he didn’t love the man yet, for love at first sight truly is a poet’s myth, he could love this man. And if he died for this man, maybe the love would be worth it after all.
The man was a witcher, who punched him in the gut and stank of onion and talked to his horse. Jaskier followed him anyway.
He followed him and coughed up flowers, different blossoms for different people, and he began to fall deeper in love. He wondered sometimes what flowers he would cough, as the bouquets turned into only one kind.
What flower would represent Geralt? Not buttercups or dandelions, certainly. Perhaps if someone else were to catch Hanahaki for Jaskier those would be for him. Geralt wasn’t a dandelion. He was grumpy and spiky and after ten years wouldn’t even call Jaskier a friend.
In the dead of night Jaskier feared it would be white roses, like he’d seen once before.
And then Geralt died in a collapsing building only to be alive and fucking a purple-eyed sorceress after nearly killing Jaskier with a djinn. Jaskier vomited flowers not twelve hours after vomiting blood.
Snow drops, tiny and delicate. And from that point forth he never coughed up any other kind.
It didn’t progress so quickly though. Jaskier had expected to die within a month of Geralt meeting Yennefer. He didn’t. Love and sex weren’t the same thing, and his love didn’t go totally unrequited either. It wasn’t the same sort of love, but in the quiet moments just after dawn it was enough.
Then Geralt made a choice.
He wouldn’t kill dragons, he didn’t hunt sapient creatures, he wanted nothing to do with the dragon hunt, until he caught sight of Yennefer.
And that left Geralt and Jaskier, on top of a mountain, as Geralt screamed into the wind that Jaskier meant nothing to him. Jaskier felt the roots set in.
He wasn’t going to get the story from the others. He could barely breathe, the pain was so sharp and intense and he could feel it growing, feel the flowers growing. Little snowdrops had no right to be so painful.
He wasn’t going to make it off the mountain.
Jaskier took a different trail down, and then wandered into the forest a little way, coughing blood and stems the whole way. He collapsed under a tree, blood staining his doublet. He wished he had a friend to clutch his hand, hold his hair back and rub his back like he’d done more than twenty years ago.
There wouldn’t be a funeral though. No one would know what had happened to Jaskier the bard. Worse, no one would know what happened to Julian, the person, the man. As he threw up a clump of flowers and blood he felt very much like the scared little boy who threw up a flower for the first time.
It hurt. It burned and shredded his throat and he wanted a friend and he didn’t have any. He’d thrown all his eggs in one basket twenty years ago and Geralt had kicked that basket off the mountain.
Jaskier leaned his lute up against the tree. It’d be such a shame to get blood on the lovely girl. He curled up next to it, in a fetal position on his side as the coughs wracked his whole body.
His friend had lasted two weeks, he thought. But her rejection was a wedding. Not her best friend and the love of her life telling her never to see him again. That he was a burden. That if life or Destiny could give him one blessing it would be to take Jaskier off his hands. And Destiny was going to deliver. She had made Jaskier love Geralt, and she would kill him by it.
Still, Jaskier would have given anything for the comfort of his friend right now. He began to cry, snot and tears and blood and petals all mixing. He couldn’t even breathe, his lungs burned so bad.
His vision was blurry.
He could hear noises, tromping through the forest and who knew what awful creatures lurked here. Just like Dame Destiny to have him disembowled while dying of Hanahaki.
It was dark, but it had been noon on the mountain. Black clouds swirled and closed in his vision.
A strangled noise.
No monster made that noise. That was a man-made noise. It sounded very much how Jaskier had felt on the mountaintop. He retched up a flower and tasted pollen and iron.
“Jaskier!”
He didn’t remember hallucinations being part of the final stages, but the brain played funny tricks.
“Jaskier!” There it was again, and he was being bundled up tight to a chest that was not at all comfortable and smelled of horse and leather and sweat and onion. A buckle of Geralt’s armor dug into his cheek. Jaskier’s mouth was full of stems and roots.
GLoved fingers dug in, pulling snowdrops from between his lips and then Geralt kissed him. It was entirely awful and unsatisfying.
Dimly Jaskier came to the realization that it was not supposed to a kiss, but Geralt trying to blow air into his flowering lungs. A nice gesture but unhelpful.
He lolled his head to the side to throw up another clump of root, not wanting to throw up directly into Geralt’s mouth.
A shudder ran through the chest he was pressed against, like a tremor before an earthquake. Then a sob.
It was quiet. The worst sobs are.
Geralt lay Jaskier down on the floor, one hand cupped beneath his head, gently cradling. Then the witcher curled next to him, face pressed against a pale neck streaked with blood, and cried.
Jaskier wanted to comfort him, to stroke a hand through soft white hair one last time and thank him for not letting him die alone. He just didn’t have the strength.
Another wretched, tiny sob, then, “I’m sorry, Jaskier. I’m so sorry.” Oh that wasn’t fair. A tear leaked from Jaskier’s eye.
“I’m sorry,” Geralt continued, face pressed into Jaskier’s collarbone. “I didn’t mean it, I was angry and tired and I’ve hurt you but please,” the voice faded to barely a whisper. “Please don’t leave me, I didn’t mean it, I love you don’t leave me here alone.”
Don’t leave him here alone. Jaskier though. Destiny owed him, owed them both for all she’d put them through. Don’t make him lonely, he prayed. I don’t want to leave him alone.
Geralt held Jaskier tighter, pressing even closer like he was trying to meld them into one. “I love you,” he said. “I’m sorry, Jaskier. I love you.”
The world went white.
Jaskier blinked his eyes open with blood in his mouth. It didn’t seem to deter Geralt, who kissed him so thoroughly his head felt light. Then Geralt pulled him upright. There was blood on the ground around them, some even streaked into Geralt’s hair.
There were no stems though.
The forest floor had been carpeted for ten feet all around them with snowdrops, planted firmly in earth instead of lungs. They were so close together it looked like a sudden snowfall, trailing to fewer and farther between at the edges of their little pool of white.
“I...” Jaskier said, letting Geralt pull him to his feet. He wasn’t sure what to say but it turns out he needn’t say anything. Geralt was clutching him like a lifeline and tucking a snowdrop into his hair.
“I smelled blood,” he said, lips brushing into Jaskier’s brown fringe. “I smelled blood and was so afraid. I haven’t been truly afraid in so long and then I found those wretched flowers.” Geralt took a shaky breath.
“I truly thought it was too late.” He pulled back and looked into Jaskier’s eyes. Geralt’s own yellow ones were dry but the emotion was clear. “I thought I had lost you, my love.” A gloved hand, only slightly bloody stroked Jaskier’s cheek. “I thought I had lost you, my life’s greatest gift. And I wanted to lay down beside you and die as well.”
Jaskier chuckled wetly. “You overdramatic sod,” he said between watery sniffles. “What a ridiculous notion. And I can’t believe it takes me dying to turn you into a romantic.”
“Almost dying,” Geralt said firmly. There was panic written plain across his face, as if he was terrified that time would slam into reverse just to take Jaskier from him. Another embrace, just this side of bone crushing. “Almost dying, my love.”
“Not dead, my love,” Jaskier responded.
As they made their way down the mountain snowdrops bloomed in their footsteps, but they were too busy looking at each other to notice.
#geraskier#hanahaki au#hanahaki disease#tw: gore#angst with a happy ending#yo im actually so proud of this what the heck?#askbox answers
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The One with the Coastal Customs
Geraskier, 1.8k, Fluff, Crack, Secret Relationship, Kaer Morons at their best, humor, Jaskier takes one for the team
Inspired by Friends. Read on AO3
Breakfast at Kaer Morhen is full of chatter as always. With Ciri and Yennefer joining them a few days ago, loud arguing and laughter always fill those once empty halls.
Jaskier picks at the rye bread on his plate, not paying attention to Lambert’s clearly exaggerated monster story, though Ciri seems completely entranced, prompting him to go on with anticipation.
His mind is still full of last night’s visage of Geralt pressing him against the wooden door and kissing him senseless. The witcher had to come to his bedroom after everyone else turned in so no one noticed. After the whole mountain incident last year and Geralt’s following apology, they thought it wise to keep their blooming relationship in secret for a while.
Let’s not tell everyone in a rush. Geralt was the one who proposed the secrecy. Whatever we have here is ours, Jask. I don’t want them to interfere or mess it up. You are too important to me, He said. Besides, what could go wrong?
Jaskier, at the time, agreed to it whole-heartedly. The witcher was so sincere that day, his golden eyes flowing with adoration and vulnerability that Jaskier could not deny him anything.
Despite some inconveniences, Jaskier has to admit it does make things excitingly hot. He almost feels like a naughty student sneaking out of class to make out with a lover again.
Jaskier’s hand comes up to touch the skin on his neck, the same spot where Geralt nibbed and sucked gently last night and left him a sobbing mess. Next to him, Geralt catches his motion with a look before a faint smile quirks up the corner of his mouth.
“Grape juice?” the witcher passes him the pitcher with the most unaffected tone in the world but his other hand travels up Jaskier’s thigh teasingly.
He has to choke in a gasp.
“…and bam! The third wyvern drops dead.” Lambert ends the story proudly, “And that’s why I’m the best witcher at this table. You have a lot to learn from me, princess.”
Ciri giggles as Geralt and Eskel chime in to call out all the lies in that tale. The room erupts in jabs and loud arguments.
Yennefer is the only one who remains silent throughout the whole meal. Her violet gaze only falls on Jaskier once, piercing with intent, before looking away like nothing happened. Even though their exchanges are a lot more amicable these days, the sorceress tends not to acknowledge Jaskier’s existence very often.
From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier sees Vesemir leave for the library. The older witcher still has work for him to finish today.
“Right, duty calls.” With a screech of chair, Jaskier stands so he can leave too. “I’ll see you later.”
He rests his hand on Geralt’s shoulder and leans in for a kiss. Geralt’s lips taste like the sweetness of grape juice and Jaskier revels in it for a moment before pulling away.
Everyone at the table is staring at him.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Jaskier freezes on the spot, a million thoughts going through his mind. Is it time to announce it to the world? They are ready for everyone to know and get involved, aren’t they?
But with one look at Geralt, he abandons the thought. The witcher has gone pale, and stiff as a statue. Panic starts to creep into those beautiful honey eyes, so subtly anyone else would have missed it.
Geralt is not ready.
Jaskier swallows. Well, there’s nothing to it.
He turns to Eskel, who’s holding a spoon mid-air and studying him with confused surprise.
“Eskel. See you later too.” He cups the older witcher’s jaw and presses their lips together. Eskel, the sweet man, even holds on to his wrist by reflex. He ends it with a pop before going around the table, careful not to trip over a chair.
Lambert can only be described as dumbfounded when Jaskier leans in, and incredulous afterwards.
“Have a nice day, Lamb.”
Yennefer looks at him with the same scrutiny. Wait, why is she looking smug? Fuck, the mage is looking scarier than the day they met. This one he might regret the most later.
“My favorite witch. It’s so good to have you here.” Jaskier opens his arms dramatically before going in, the familiar lilac and gooseberries filling his senses. Oh, her lips are so much softer.
When he stands to straighten his doublet, the whole table is still looking at him in silence. Geralt is tense as a statue while Lambert’s mouth hangs slightly open.
“Right.” He pats Ciri on the back and runs away from the scene, keeping his footsteps as steady as possible.
*
Ciri is the first one to break the silence.
“What the hell just happened?”
“Language.” Yennefer berates her, seemingly unfazed.
Geralt swallows a lump. If Jaskier is willing to go such length to keep the promise, he can try to look inconspicuous for a moment.
A blush is creeping up on Lambert’s face, but he tries to hide it with biting words. “Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you bard?”
“Watch your language too.” Eskel’s voice is steady with amusement. “Why do you mind it so much anyway? He’s being friendly. It was nice.”
If Eskel wipes his lips casually with a pleased look, nobody mentions it.
“In what world is that friendly?” Lambert scowls.
“It’s –” Geralt clears his throat, “He went to the coast last year. In the south. Must have picked up some local customs. That’s…um…how they greet each other. In the south.”
Lambert stares at him. “Doesn’t feel southern to me.”
Geralt gulps down all the juice in his cup. When he puts it down, Yennefer is studying him like a predator might a prey.
“Interesting custom.” Her violet eyes sparkle with curiosity.
Geralt has never been more grateful for his witcher trials for allowing him to remain calm under extreme pressure. His heart still beats slowly without revealing anything.
They are fine as long as it doesn’t happen again.
*
It happens again.
Jaskier sucks at Geralt’s lips with heated passion, drawing a soft moan out of the witcher. Neither of them pays any attention to the flurries of snow falling into the empty courtyard around them.
“I’ve missed you today.” He moves down to Geralt’s jawline, and then his neck. “Where’d you go?”
“Had to repair the wall at the back, or the whole keep crumbles.”
“Hmm. Should have let it.”
Jaskier captures those lips again just when he hears people entering the courtyard, and pushes Geralt away with force.
It’s too late.
Eskel and Lambert stare quizzically at Jaskier, their training swords in hand. Behind him, Ciri is also in full gears, ready for lessons. The way she tilts her head in bewilderment is such a spitting image of her dad.
“Well.” Jaskier pats Geralt on the bicep. “Thanks for helping me clean the stable. That’s…nice of you.”
Roach snorts in the stable behind them.
He walks towards Eskel and kisses him again, and then Lambert. Boy he’s just noticing how tall the younger witcher is. Jaskier has to tiptoe a little bit. “I’ll be off then.”
When he passes Ciri, the girl just moves out of the way like he’s the plague. “See you, uncle Jask!”
Jaskier nods at her, carrying himself as naturally as possible, and enters the building.
*
The gwent is going great. It seems that Geralt is going to win again.
Jaskier yawns. He’ll never see the appeal of the game, so he just reaches over Lambert to grab the lute. Maybe a little practice will be good–
“Okay, bard. You need to cut it off.” Lambert stops Jaskier’s motion with a hand on his chest.
Jaskier blinks.
“I don’t care whatever–” Lambert gestures around Jaskier’s whole being. “– coastal customs you picked up from the south. It’s not…how we do things around here. We are not in the south and it’s fucking weird. So quit it.”
“Okay?” He blinks again.
“I know you like witchers more than the average man out there,” Eskel adds, “and you want to show us. I appreciate it, Jaskier, but it might not make us the most comfortable.”
“What now?” Jaskier looks around the room. Yennefer and Ciri are sitting by the fire with some magic book spread out between their knees, watching the situation unfold.
“Quit the kissing, bard.” Lambert scowls.
Eskel smiles politely. “Yeah, it’s best if you did.”
Oh.
Jaskier can see the two witchers are clearly not at ease. Lambert’s face is a ripe tomato and Eskel is acting way too formal with all the niceties.
“Okay. Of course.” Jaskier raises his hands in defeat. “I will stop assaulting you with the overly familiar foreign customs. Message received.”
“Thank the gods. It was disgusting.” Geralt deadpans.
Jaskier looks into those golden eyes he loves so much and wonders if he can express ‘I’m gonna put a pillow over your face tonight’ with a neural glare. The bastard only raises an eyebrow in challenge.
“If you do need to let it out somehow, Jaskier, maybe your friends at that fancy academy of yours are open to it.” Yennefer says, chill as the winter sky, “Or some of your lovers.”
Maybe Jaskier’s eyes are deceiving him, but he swears the sorceress glanced in Geralt’s direction when she said ‘lovers’.
The ladies resume their discussion about spells and magic, and the gwent game continues. Geralt does end up winning.
Jaskier plucks his lute, imagining a million ways for his witcher to make it up to him later.
Oh the sacrifices he has to make for this ridiculous man.
*
“The sacrifices I have to make for you, my dear.” Jaskier rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, cuddling up to his witcher’s warm body.
“What sacrifice? I thought you were enjoying it.”
“They are quite good kissers though, especially–” He cuts himself off. It’s best not to discuss your lover’s brothers that way, or ex-lover, for that matter.
“Then what are you moaning about?”
“But my reputation!” Jaskier protests, “My name will be tarnished forever. Jaskier – barker and molester of witchers. None of you will ever let me sing your heroism anymore.”
“Hmm. Don’t you forget about Yen.” Geralt’s voice rumbles deep in his chest.
“Oh yeah. I’m surprised she didn’t turn me into a toad on the spot.” He plays with Geralt’s long hair. “By the way – I just have this inking – do you think, perhaps, Yennefer might know? About us?”
“Oh she knows.”
Jaskier bolts upright, looking at Geralt incredulously.
“Since when?”
“The day she arrived?” Geralt guesses, “I’m sure she took one look at us and figured it out. It’s not my fault she’s so smart–”
Jaskier picks up a pillow and throws it at Geralt’s smug face.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
Geralt finally breaks out laughing. He catches the bard’s feral attack and pins him into the mattress. Jaskier’s angry little pout is too adorable Geralt has to kiss it away. Uninterrupted this time.
“Is it worth it though? All the sacrifices?” Geralt's breath ghosts over the skin at Jaskier's throat.
The bard only glares at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh long-sufferingly.
“For you, my dear. Always.” He pecks Geralt’s soft lips one more time. “As long as no one turns me into a toad.”
#geraskier#geraskier fic#the witcher#geralt x jaskier#crack#fluff#i don't know what happened with this one#should i tag friends?#monica and chandler are the best friends#geralt of rivia#jaskier#kaer morons
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Jaskier, walking into the library, finding Geralt hunched over a bunch of books: Hey, darling! Um, whatcha doing?
Geralt: *deep sigh* Vesemir wants me to teach Ciri algebra. Says it's important she gets a proper education.
Jaskier: Hmm. I kind of agree with him. Are you up to the task? You look pretty miserable.
Geralt, growling: I haven't touched this material for over a hundred years, I don't understand why he wants me to do it.
Jaskier: Probably because you're sort of her father. And other unknown reasons. Let me help?
Geralt, glancing at Jaskier: Why? You know algebra?
Jaskier, shrugs: I can try. Show me what you're doing.
Jaskier, staring at the pages: A-ha. You've got the quadratic equation formula all wrong. It's supposed to look like this. *scribs something on the paper*. And you're missing a minus sign here. And here. And your parabola is upside down. *scribs* There.
Geralt: *stares at him*
Jaskier: What? They teach other things than music in Oxenfurt, you know. I actually really liked maths.
Geralt, huffs: So you can help me?
Jaskier: Of course.
Geralt, grinning a placing a hand on Jaskier's thigh: It would be interesting to have you as my private tutor. *leans in to kiss Jaskier* I can be a very good student.
Jaskier, humming against his lips: So... You're ready for your first lesson?
Geralt, pulling Jaskier into his lap: I am.
Jaskier: Good. Solve this, this and this *points at the paper* and fix your damn parabola, it looks horrible. *stands up from Geralt's lap* I'll check in on you in ten minutes. C'mon, start solving.
Geralt, still in shock: You're a terrible lover.
Jaskier: I am first of all a professor! And you need to do this, c'mon, no excuses. We can fulfill your dirty school fantasies later.
Geralt, laughing: I can't believe I'm turned on by you doing math.
Jaskier: Lies, you're turned on by me no matter what I do.
Geralt: Hmm. True.
#geralt/jaskier#geraskier#jaskier#gerald#witcher netflix#geralt the witcher#witcher#the witcher#geralt z rivii#geralt x dandelion#geralt x jaskier#geralt of rivia#geralt#dandilion#dandellion#dandelion#geralt x julian#julian alfred pankratz
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A Man of Easy Virtues
Just another ‘I’m so sorry but I couldn’t resist’ fics I wrote instead of, you know, doing the important things I should be doing.
This time it’s based on @likecastle‘s post about the kind of pants Jaskier should be wearing (and isn’t wearing, obviously) in the show and all the fanfics.
Warning for almost underage slutty bard (don’t worry, though, he’s eighteen, so definitely not a kid) and no Geralt in sight.
And yes, there will definitely be a part 2.
*
“You don’t understand,” Jaskier sighs and looks down at the tiny, fat tailor in front of him. “I just need a pair of pants that stays up without a hundred tiny ribbons.”
“They aren’t ribbons, young man,” the tailor says. “They are actually called–”
“I don’t care what they’re called. I don’t want them anywhere near me.”
“How would your pants stay up, then?” the tailor frowns.
“I don’t know. You’re the expert!”
The tailor sighs and lifts his hands to fix Jaskier’s partially unbuttoned doublet.
“Young man. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Jaskier mutters.
“Eighteen,” the man repeats. “Are you aware, young man, that what you’re asking for is very inappropriate?”
“But very practical. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get into appropriate clothes when you’re in a hurry?”
“There are things you cannot hurry up, young man. This is one of them.”
“Have you ever tried telling that to an angry cuckold?”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” Jaskier bites his lower lip. “Could you at least consider–”
“No.”
“I will pay you double–”
“Still no. There,” the man smiles, straightening Jaskier’s collar. “Much better now. Your chemise is meant to be hidden. You wouldn’t want people to think that you are a man of easy virtues, would you?”
“Oh, no,” Jaskier mutters. “That would be horrible…”
*
“Fuck, yes,” Jaskier moans as a pair of eager hands slip into his doublet. “Please.”
“Mhmh,” his lover’s deep voice answers, impatiently tugging at Jaskier’s chemise. “More skin. Right fucking now.”
“I actually don’t think,” Jaskier murmurs between the kisses, “that it will be possible to… Oh, yes.”
The hands slip lower and try to get into Jaskier’s pants. They don’t succeed. The man – the Witcher, for fuck’s sake – growls.
Which is fair, Jaskier assumes, because while the young student’s fingers are roaming freely over the scarred torso and firm buttocks, Jaskier is still fully clothed. And it is going to take forever before he’s naked.
“Drowner’s shrunken ball sack,” the Witcher swears, tugging at one of the points holding Jaskier’s clothes together. “I’d sooner get into a noonwraith’s rotting cunt than your asshole!”
“Yeah, it’s a little complicated, but if you let go for a little while–”
“Oh, fuck off,” the man grunts and before Jaskier even blinks, there’s a long knife in the man’s hand. And before Jaskier manages to open his mouth to protest, the man makes short work of all the points and unceremoniously throws Jaskier onto the bed, grinning.
“Well, fuck me,” Jaskier whispers, feeling his blood rush straight to his crotch (well, at least the tiny amount of blood that wasn’t there already).
“That’s the plan,” the man nods, cutting Jaskier’s chemise open. “The name’s Lambert, in case you forgot. Because I expect you to scream it until your voice is fucking raw.”
“Yes, sir,” Jaskier purrs.
The Witcher smiles.
“Good boy.”
*
“Melitele’s tits!” Jaskier swears, staring at his pants in disbelief.
Lambert lifts his head from the pillow and raises an eyebrow.
“Problem?” he asks.
“There is, actually. You completely ruined them!” Jaskier growls and throws his currently useless pants at him. “How the fuck am I supposed to get back home?”
“Oh, come on. I was careful not to cut anything but those motherfucking tiny ribbons. It’s not the end of the world. What do you need them for, anyway? I mean apart from driving potential lovers insane with lust.”
“Well, for nothing important. Just holding the fucking thing up,” Jaskier sighs and puts on his doublet, which is his only piece of clothing that’s intact. He’s slowly coming to terms with walking home with his ass bare. Again. Third time this week.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Lambert frowns. “Shit. Sorry, I guess. Would you like my spare pair?”
“Does it have the points, or did you cut them off when you urgently needed to take a shit?” Jaskier smirks.
“I honestly don’t know what the fuck are you even talking about.” Lambert gets up and after a few seconds of rummaging through his bag he pulls out a pair of worn-out leather pants and throws them to Jaskier. “Here. Take them. Guess what. They stay up on their own.”
“They… do?” Jaskier whispers, his eyes going comically wide.
“Honey, when werewolves attack your camp while your Cat Witcher boyfriend is balls-deep in your ass, you don’t have time to tie some fucking ribbons.”
“Cat Witcher…” Jaskier blinks.
As if on cue, the room’s door open and a lean, long-haired blond man rushes in, slams the door closed behind him and starts dragging a large chest in front of it.
“Oh, you’re done. Good,” he says to Lambert. “We need to leave. Now.”
“Aiden, I swear by Vesemir’s flaccid cock…” Lambert groans. “What did I ask you – no, beg you not to do tonight?!”
“I swear I didn’t cheat this time!” the man says, leaning with his full weight against the chest just as someone starts to bang on the door. “It’s not my fault I’m so fucking good at gwent, is it?”
“Good at gwent my ass. I could beat you drunk if you didn’t have another whole pack stuffed into your sleeves.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lambert. It’s not a whole pack. Just like… twenty cards or something, usually.” The man grins at Jaskier. The doorknob rattles. “Hey, Lambert’s fuck of the day. I’d suggest you start getting dressed.”
“Just how many did you manage to piss off this time?” Lambert asks, already pulling his shirt over his head.
“Not many. I could deal with them in a matter of seconds, but you always say your brother doesn’t like it when Witchers murder innocent citizens.”
“You mean my brother the fucking Butcher of Blaviken?” Lambert laughs.
Jaskier looks up from fastening his (well, Lambert’s) pants and gapes at the two Witchers.
“Your brother,” he whispers. “Your brother is Geralt of–”
“Not now,” Lambert says. “We’re in a bit of a hurry. Tell me, Jaskier, have you ever jumped out of a window before?”
“Four times just this week. Mostly to escape jealous husbands. A jealous wife, in one case.”
“Good,” Aiden nods, letting go of the chest supporting the door and grabbing his bag. “Let’s jump.”
*
The tiny, fat tailor is staring at the pair of worn-out black leather pants laid out in front of him with polite disgust.
“Not possible,” he says for the fifth time.
“Let’s be absolutely clear here,” Jaskier smiles and his voice holds just a hint of a promise of some very unpleasant things that could hypothetically happen to the tiny man. “Do you know my name?”
“No, young man, and I wouldn’t care even if you were–”
“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove,” Jaskier says calmly.
“Oh,” the man replies and he suddenly seems even smaller than before.
“I am willing to pay you twice your usual fee–”
“Sir, what you’re requiring is outrageous–”
“Three times.”
“I couldn’t possibly sully the name of my shop with such an immodest–”
“Four times your usual fee, and an opportunity to start a fashion revolution.”
The man closes his eyes and nods slowly.
“Four times my usual fee. You can keep the revolution. It’s not as if you can find another man willing to wear something so scandalous…”
*
In a month, almost every young man in Oxenfurt (and several young women) wears the same model of pants Jaskier does. It’s much more comfortable, and also much easier to get into if you happen to get caught naked in a bed you shouldn’t be in, making it an instant hit among the students.
When Jaskier jumps, completely dressed, out of yet another window, this time running from a father whose two sons he just fucked into the bed, he thinks that he definitely has to thank Lambert and Aiden properly the next time he sees them.
Or any other Witcher he meets until then.
They basically saved his life, didn’t they?
#the witcher#witcher fic#witcher fanfiction#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#lambert x aiden#lambden#because when i write about lambert i just can't NOT include aiden okay?!#also jaskier can't keep his pants up#quite literally#my fics#attempt at humor
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Subtext, by Calvin Klein
happy birthday @stinastar!!! I know it’s not the prompt you wanted, but I’ll write that too. :) Thank you so much for being awesome and so so sweet!
Legally Blonde au - modern - fluffy pre-getting together
depending on the comments I get on this, I might post a second part
tw: Geralt’s tragic backstory (foster care mention)
---
Geralt approached Jaskier slowly and kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. “What’s up-” he noticed the bunny ears poking up from Jaskier’s fluffy brown hair and added “-doc?”
The young law student looked up at Geralt through teary black lashes and let out another soft sniffle, his lips wobbling unattractively. Geralt hurried to drape his zip-up hoodie over Jaskier’s bare shoulders and take a seat on the wooden bench beside him.
The worried teacher’s assistant rubbed his hands up and down Jaskier’s arms through the material, trying to warm him up a little better. “Why are you dressed as a Playboy bunny, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night in this terrible New England weather?”
“I made a terrible mistake in coming here.”
“What?”
Geralt had never heard Jaskier sound so utterly defeated. Usually the student was bright and bubbly, congenial to a fault even when he made mistakes or answered incorrectly during class discussions. The charming brunette seemed to pull bucket after bucket from a nearly endless well of positivity; until now, apparently.
As he sat beside Geralt on the worn wooden bench, wearing the tight pink leotard and little wrist cuffs, practically glowing in the yellow-tinged lamplight, he seemed too ethereal to be real. Even as he shivered and sniffled, Jaskier looked too gorgeous to be human. Seeing him in such a distressed state was a little unnerving, like bumping into an old teacher outside of school or accidentally seeing your neighbors kissing through a window. It felt wrong.
“I followed the love of my life to this stupid fucking university and now he’s going to marry some fancy, well-bred blonde woman like his parents wanted and I’m going to flunk out of these classes with nothing to show for my time here and my parents are going to-”
“Hey,” Geralt interrupted, taking one hand from his pocket to place on Jaskier’s trembling knee. “It’s going to be okay. Breathe, Jaskier.”
“Right. Breathing. Yeah.”
“Are you… okay?”
Jaskier looked at him again and Geralt flinched away from the obvious hurt in his watery blue eyes. Of course he’s not okay, he’s sobbing alone on a cold bench in the middle of Halloween night.
“Jaskier, I’m sorry. I’m not good with words but- Wait... are you saying you came to school because of a man?”
“Y-Yeah. You could put it that way, I guess.”
Geralt yanked his hand away from the younger man’s knee and scooted backwards, away from the man he’d just been admiring. “Oh my god, that has to be the absolute stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You came all the way to Oxenfurt University’s prestigious and award-winning Law School to hunt down a husband?!”
Jaskier looks taken aback. Startled and bewildered and sad, like a much smaller child rather than an adult man with a degree and a half. “Are you mad at me!?”
“A little bit, yeah,” Geralt laughed humorlessly. He shook his head, swiping one hand over his face on his way to tuck in a stray strand of white hair. “I worked two jobs to get myself through college. I was doing full-time classes and pulling sixty hour weeks at the bar and the grocery store; I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since I graduated high school. I certainly don’t know the meaning of the word vacation anymore... and you came here to follow some- some guy that you liked?”
“We’d been together for three years before he suddenly dropped me to pursue a degree in fucking bitter looking women, to be completely fair. And I managed to get a good enough LSAT score to qualify for admittance, so it’s not like I’m totally incompetent.”
“No,” Geralt nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess that’s true.”
“No guessing involved,” Jaskier spat, tired and angry and flustered. “It is the truth, plain and simple. I deserve to be here and I will be successful.”
“Hmm.”
“Well why are you here, then, Mr. Grouchy T.A.?”
“I grew up in foster care and let me tell you, from experience, that the system is shit. If I had been forced to remain a foster child for any longer than I was, I probably would have become a match-happy little delinquent like my youngest brother, Lambert. Luckily my third foster parent, Vesemir, adopted me legally and made me his son. He already had one adopted son, my older brother, Eskel, and after me there was Lambert.”
Jaskier took a moment to contemplate Geralt’s story, pulling the sweatshirt closer around his shoulders and burrowing down into the neckline in a way that sent butterflies swirling through Geralt’s stomach rather unexpectedly. Then the younger man smiled at him, pearly teeth glinting in the light of the streetlamp. “That’s… that’s a little sad and a little sweet. It makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“The sadness and the sweetness,” Jaskier repeated, grinning a little more shyly than before. Geralt wasn’t sure, since it was so dark and he was so skeptical, but it almost looked like Jaskier was blushing. “Like you. Sweet, kind, caring, but a little melancholy. Anyway, I should be getting back to my dorm. I need to study.”
“I want my sweatshirt back,” Geralt said, standing and offering Jaskier a hand up. He wobbled to his feet, still wearing a pair of dangerously high black stilettos. Geralt knew this outfit would haunt his dreams for the next few weeks and cursed Hugh Heffner’s lingering spirit.
“If you’re lucky,” Jaskier replied, and click-click-clicked his way into the darkness.
Geralt honestly wasn’t sure he’d mind if Jaskier decided to keep it… maybe someday he’d wear it to class. And didn’t the thought of that send something odd and new and terrifying swirling in Geralt’s gut.
---
“Where are we going, exactly?” Geralt asked, eyeing the giddy brunette before him. Jaskier batted his long eyelashes at the grumpy T.A. and gave his sweetest pout.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Hmm,” Geralt’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“Well then don’t stop now!”
The excitable young law student laced his fingers with Geralt’s and pulled him through the large glass doors and into the mall. When at last his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the shopping center he asked: “What is this place?”
Jaskier grinned, taking a deep, dramatic breath. “A department store.”
Geralt rolled his eyes and took his own deep breath, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “What is that smell?”
“Love,” Jaskier replied.
“What!?”
“Love,” the student repeated, pointing at a sign with his free hand. It was large and pink and read LOVE, BY CHANEL in black block-letters. “There’s Love in the air.”
“Terrible joke, really,” Geralt teased. “But really, Jaskier, why are we here? You have plenty of clothes for court; I know because I’ve been in your closet and seen them firsthand.”
“We’re not here for me,” Jaskier elbowed his mentor and study partner gently in the side. Their hands were still interlaced in a way that made Geralt’s heart thunder dangerously against his ribs; love really was in the air, it seemed. Jaskier continued breezily, unaware of the older man’s roiling internal conflict. “I’m taking you shopping so that you have the proper outfit to wear when accepting Stregobor’s partnership offer.”
They had reached the men’s business section and the brunette released Geralt’s hand in order to dig through the racks of clothing. He was elbow deep in Calvin Klein and Kenneth Cole, hunting for jackets in Geralt’s size. “Jaskier, I can’t afford this kind of-”
“Hush,” Jaskier replied, waving his hand dismissively in his direction, letting it go limp at the wrist. “It’s a gift. No! Not a gift, a repayment.”
“I didn’t give you anything…”
Jaskier looked up from the selection of suits he’d been inspecting and shot Geralt a dangerous glare. “You most certainly did give me something, Geralt Roger Eric du-Haute Bellegarde! You looked past my bubbliness and my pink blazer and my previous degree and treated me like a person. You supported me and encouraged me without asking for anything in return so this is what I’m giving you.”
Geralt took a step towards him and sneezed. “What is that smell?”
An attendant appeared as if from thin air, a little glass bottle clutched in her hand. “It’s Subtext, by Calvin Klein!”
“It’s not really my thing,” Geralt frowned, closing the distance between himeslf and Jaskier as he made his apologies, “But thank you, regardless.”
“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything!”
Geralt stepped close enough to feel the heat of Jaskier’s body, still not brave enough to initiate touch. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a problem,” Jaskier grinned again.
Geralt considered the feelings that were stirring in his heart, driving through his veins, branching out through his mind so that all he could focus on was Jaskier...
It might be a problem, he thought, allowing himself to enjoy the moment. But it can be dealt with another time.
#legally blonde#legally blonde au#geraskier#geraskier ficlet#happy birthday stina#pre slash#legally blonde the musical#geraskier fluff#preslash#pre getting tgoether#getting together#bouncey's endless au collection
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