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bangtanfanfiction · 3 months

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hopelessly falling → k. sunwoo (tbz)

Based on this ask.

♢ Pairing: Sunwoo x Idol!female Reader → Idol AU

♢ Word count: 6.8k

♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man

♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig

⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected. ↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.

HOBI: Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always! JIMIN: You’ll do great! JIN: We’ll be monitoring you :)) YOONGS: Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo. JOONIE: Y/N fighting! JK: Fighting! TAE: Go, go, go Y/N!

Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.

Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves.

Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return.

Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror.

Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.

You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them.

The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly.

Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´

Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same.

The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours.

But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness.

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.

“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”

Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation.

Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences.

Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher.

“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”

Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her.

“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it.

“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes.

Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup.

“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”

“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you.

“Henry Cavill does not count.”

“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”

“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”

“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat.

Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great.

You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy.

“Y/N it’s time to head out.”

Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.

Y/N: I'm off now! Love you!

You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions.

It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry.

You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage.

Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it.

You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved.

The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week.

However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song.

You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on.

Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds.

But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future.

“Hi, hello,

My name is what you want it to

숨겨 왔던

욕망들을 whisper.”

Huh.

A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils.

“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention.

“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.

You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.

The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp.

You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward.

“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”

The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.”

The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.

“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you.

“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music.

“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?”

“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”

“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”

Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable.

“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.”

“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”

Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier.

“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes.

But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed.

Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow.

His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.

An image still swimming in your mind.

An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions.

Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness.

You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance.

Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.

No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.

“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status.

“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”

At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip.

“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.

Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face.

“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view.

Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now.

Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh.

You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio.

So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself.

Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?

“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room.

Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too.

Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast.

The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.

“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest.

“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”

“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”

Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”

You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent.

“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?

“Stop what?”

You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”

“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?”

Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.

“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.

“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.

Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck.

Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”

If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it.

The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed.

Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”

“I know.”

However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck.

“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him.

“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off. “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”

You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”

Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.

An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved.

“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider.

“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle.

He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”

There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat.

“You…want my number?”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again.

So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”

“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”

Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow.

This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances.

Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway.

“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes.

But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it.

Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what.

Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number.

You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.

“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.

So you weren’t the only one affected at least.

UNKNOWN: What’s your favorite drink? Y/N: Who is this? UNKNOWN: I’m hurt, noona. Y/N: Ah Hello to you too, Sunwoo You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo. SUNWOO: Backtracking to the question. Y/N: I’m a coffee addict SUNWOO: Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano? Y/N: I’m more of a sweet latte girl SUNWOO: A woman after my own heart. Y/N: Alright you little flirt Care to explain? SUNWOO: I’m planning for our date ofc Y/N: Oh? Did I miss the location? SUNWOO: It’s a surprise Y/N: Should I be worried? SUNWOO: Why do you keep doubting me :( Y/N: Acting cute won’t help you SUNWOO: heart emoji Y/N: But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo I got high standards after all ;) SUNWOO: I guess the pressure is on

“Hi.”

“...hey.”

Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it.

“Why are you breathless?”

“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”

“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed.

“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”

“Hm, what a gentleman.”

“For you? Always.”

You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing.

“I tried seeing you today.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”

“What did you do today?”

“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”

Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”

“Oh shush you.”

A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak.

“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it.

“...Like what?”

“This. Just talking to you, noona.”

Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”

It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully.

The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place.

And did you regret it.

“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team.

You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted.

They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years.

The haters would have a field day with that.

“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background.

“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people.

You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan.

It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle.

You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies.

You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo.

He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax.

“Are you okay?”

Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”

You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.

“Thank you.”

Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.

His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring.

“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up.

“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”

“What makes you think there is?”

Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”

Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”

“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”

Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”

His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you.

“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened.

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.

Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely.

You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was mesmerized.

Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers.

Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS.

Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away.

And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to.

After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch.

Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause.

Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.

“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat.

If only his members knew the truth.

“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members.

Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage.

He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self.

The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi.

You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly.

He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT.

You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder.

The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.

He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips.

“Was that a bit too rough?”

“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in.

The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck.

His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin.

“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action.

“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”

“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure.

He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile.

Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him.

“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”

“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity.

“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him.

Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up.

You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up.

That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips.

Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events.

He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place.

Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down.

Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into.

It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing.

“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him.

“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close.

“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious.

So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end.

You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him.

Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot.

Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction.

“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting.

“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”

Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh.

“That went well.” He grinned.

“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands.

“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”

Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second.

“Yah Kim Sunw-!”

Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.

Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell.

Well. There went the secrecy.

“What…the hell?”

Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.

“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English.

If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up.

Thank you for reading!

masterlist

#bangtanfanfiction #kpop imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #the boyz #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #kim sunwoo x reader #tbz sunwoo imagine #tbz idol au #kim sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines

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eldhuug · 1 year

Photo

AH i finally settled on some designs for the main charas in the rdr2 witcher au I have in my head :-)) if youre interested in some more details, keep reading!

Arthur: Wolf witcher who struck out of his old school alongside his two father figures, and has been standing by their goal of funding their own witcher school. Not very up to date with what they’re doing, but is their main source of stable income. Meets Charles on his travels and falls in love inbetween the growing political intrigue he’s forced to try to understand. Jack of all trades kind of fighter, but has especially beautiful swordskills. Charles: Bear school witcher who has lived a really long time on his own, and took a chance doing work alongside a kind of witcher he knew roamed in packs. grew fond enough of Arthur to help him fund a place they might both call home. One of the few witchers who hunt animals as much as monsters, and uses very few signs. Molly: A down on her luck sorceress trying to find a noble kind of adventure, scorned by her family as she’s attempting to join in on the aspirations of Dutch. Struggles to not be the only magic wielder in the group, and her isolation and fear of both being a burden and being unexeptional drives her to loose controll of her magic abilities. Lenny: A man with an almost impossible level of luck, Lenny survived the trial of the grasses by the skin of his teeth despite being concidered too old to have any change of living through it. An exeptional sign user, he’s an academically minded young witcher who does a lot of research on both enhancing signs, and brewing new types of potions. Both Hosea and Dutch view him as their protegee, and he juggles the expectation to be a researched and a future leader as best as he can. Dutch: Struck out from the school of the wolf in a dream to create his own stronghold for witchers where they would view each other like a family and treat their fellow men with compassion and kindness. His drive to cement his legacy as one of historys most impactful men hounds at him, and as his dreams keep expanding his desperation grows alongside it. Hosea: Used to primarily be a potion teacher before he struck out with Dutch to see the ability of proper future for himself and the love of his life. Initially incredibly sceptical of the endevour and Dutches insistance of letting anyone of any school join their group, he tries his best to leave a legacy through Lenny and their shared research.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #the wild wild hunt #lenny summers #charles smith #dutch van der linde #molly o'shae #hosea matthews #SORRY i got exited about my own project these dont look too good

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olderthannetfic · 8 months

Text

Escapade Dance Party 2023 Writeup 3/3

Second Half

Jaskier has no more fucks to give by Gondolin AMV

Obviously, having just shown the other Witcher, I had to open with the more familiar one.

Vids under 2 minutes also aren't actually danceable no matter the tempo, so this makes a good upbeat intro to a section.

Grandmaster of Troublemaking (The Untamed) by NKZephyr Edits

I love the enthusiasm and goofiness of this vid.

Goncharov (1973) | Read the description! by Etoile

Come on, we had to have Goncharov!

TBH, there were other vids, but basically none of them were danceable.

【HIStory3-圈套】On a daily by Nerjaveika

Trapped's moment seems to have passed, but the combination of great use of text and this fun song made this one a perfect fit.

Ego | AMV | Mo dao zu shi & Heaven Official's Blessing (CC Lyrics) by Nitisha Donghua Productions

I was more looking for Heaven Official's Blessing alone, but most of the options I was finding weren't really danceable. I love this song and was looking for a vid to it anyway.

trouble in my head | lan jue & zhang ping | a league of nobleman by Victoria

I have no clue what this is. I probably found it in the sidebar while searching something else, but it's such a pretty vid.

История Бай Ци (AU, Bai Qi/Shen Zui) by Kemriko

What is this? Who knows. I liked it, and it was m/m, so people got to watch it.

BTS Jhope • Gasolina• |FMV|• by kookie taex

In a concession to how many people the previous song would inevitably chase from the dance floor, I wanted to follow it with something much more booty-shaking. I fucking love Gasolina and am always looking for more vids to it. Tragically, a lot of English-speaking vidding fandom has No Taste and does not vid this kind of music.

Yes, this is a vertical vid of J-Hope dancing to Daddy Yankee. No regrets!

Мания Хирото by Fausthaus

Ah, my favorite source of vids: Russian fandom combats. Are they on AO3? Yes. Have English speakers gone anywhere near their vast stores of battshit content? No, absolutely not.

No one at the con, including me, knows anything about this fandom. Too bad. The music is great, and I wanted to dance to it.

Отступники by fandom Vampires of Central Russia 2021

This is another fandom I spotted in the fandom combats. The vid is shorter than I'd normally show, but I wanted to showcase this interesting vampire fandom that I didn't think most people at Escapade had heard of yet.

Sex and Violence by bironic

Another one breaking my rules. Nandermo was a must-have for a vampire-themed year, but mockumentaries are shot like ass on purpose, and that makes them hard to vid, so my options were limited. Bironic's always a sure thing, if not exactly obscure to an Escapade audience.

Sadly, the embed seems to be dead at the moment.

Sex Drive by Franzeska

Yes, I will always play my own vids when I need to fill a hole in a playlist.

Night Watch was such a passion of mine for a while and the source of my ill-fated attempt to learn Russian. I always meant to go back and add text to this vid to echo the weird subtitles they did for the movie, but I never got around to it. Oh well.

【盾冬衍生】no body no crime 黑暗爽文利刃出鞘兰森/我们一直住在城堡里表哥 by 蜜桃奶霉包

Batshit AUs are my favorite. When I found this, I knew I had to inflict it on everyone.

The Hunger - Say Yes To Heaven by themaybatatter

I had a long list of vampire fandoms, most of which I never did find a vid for, but The Hunger was at the absolute top of my list. After scouring the internet, this was the only arguably danceable vid I could come up with and one of the few in general. What the hell, internet? What the hell?!

“你不了解你的妻子，我吻过她” by 没饭呲了

This would be a lot more danceable if it weren't quite so plastered with show audio… but too bad. As usual, sufficiently horny femslash gets an automatic pass. Everyone swayed vaguely on the edges of the dance floor staring, so I still consider it a success.

【巍澜】这可是极限拉扯的鼻祖！！！ by 甜飞惹

Guardian is another fandom where I'm spoiled for choice, but the Chinese vidders do like to include an awful lot of dialogue. This vid stood out for great dance party music and no audio clips.

Morpheus & Hob | The Night We Met by WolfPhoenixWriter

A lot of people were into Sandman this year. I liked this vid for making me feel a lot of feelings despite never having seen the show and barely remembering the comic.

It's a bit slow dance for Escapade, but I loved the emotion in the song too much to not include it.

Boyfriend | FMV | Yan Wei X Xu YouYi by Nitisha Donghua Productions

I guess this was my horny femslash year.

Lee Soo Hyuk - Gwi (Scholar Who Walks the Night) Savage by Serendipity

What's this? Dunno, but it's got a vampire and this great song.

The Monster by frayadjacent

This one was pure self-indulgence on my part. It was made for a con by a vidder everybody knows, but the vidder felt it required too many content warnings and didn't send it in the end. I, however, reserve the end of the dance party to show more content warnings-heavy things if I feel like it. I despise how fandom has turned into a "compromise" where anything that reaches into my soul is never on the table while pabulum always is. Fuck that. I am the arbiter of what's normal.

This vid lit me up in places I'd forgotten.

Ahs Hotel :| Tear you Apart by xxxxxx

This song was used in the show and there are a billion vids to it, but this one is far better than the others aside from how it just cuts off.

AHS isn't a fandom most at the con are in, but I just had to include its vampire season.

A Shot for the Pain by Franzeska

I honestly did go looking for other Penny Dreadful vids. Sadly, the selection was not impressive, and most of it was not to anything danceable, let alone goth club-appropriate music.

【拔杯|暗黑慎入】你是我奇怪的瘾症 by 两只阿夏跑不快

I've seen a lot of Hannibal vids. Almost all of them are gross. Few are as interestingly edited as this one.

Twilight Zone by hmmyeahokay

Okay, this one is a massive blast from the past. Do people outside of Highlander fandom even remember this bad 2001 movie?

I loved the song, and I appreciated that there was a black lead. That and vampires trump the fact that it's a het vid (ish).

Supernatural ►Cry Little Sister by Gwen

I scoured Youtube for vids to this song. I thought this was a particularly interesting take out of the extensive genre of horror set to Cry Little Sister. (No, seriously, it's a genre.)

【荣耀向我俯首｜kinnporsche】没长出恋爱脑前的少爷们怎么能错过这首BGM by 旧城与笙Zz

Kinnporsche hit big this year. I wanted a really fantastic vid that people hadn't seen. I love that this one is by a Chinese vidder (probably) to a French song.

Sadly no longer online, probably for being of a horny BL series and posted on a Chinese site

Kingdom come by fandom ATEEZ 2022

Okay, ATEEZ isn't a big fandom at the con, but this vid is some sort of kink AU, and I'm always weak for that. It's also to a Taylor song everybody loves.

Last of the Real Ones by colls

I cheated again and included a well-known vidder, but do you know how hard it is to find stormpilot vids? Kylux has like eight billion genius animatics and fan art vids. Finnpoe? Bupkis!

I don't know if people still care about this part of Star Wars, but all of the Bandom trash immediately rushed the dance floor when the song started playing.

louis & lestat | take my breath away (interview with the vampire) by ScribbledDreaming

I have ended with this song before, with finnpoe in fact, so that's a little in-joke for myself.

What better way to end the vampire party than the new IWTV and the most over-the-top vid I could find?

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fandom-junk-drawer · 5 months

Text

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 6

Where the f**k is he going?

Geralt was confused when he saw Jaskier signal to him, then put his turn signal on. They had both finished their personal errands, met for lunch and were now on the way home. But Jaskier was making an unplanned stop.

Geralt scowled when he noticed Jaskier was pulling into that fancy new car wash. What the h*ll was he planning? Surely he wasn't expecting Geralt to take Roach through the car wash! H*ll no! His precious vintage creeper van was hand wash only!

Jaskier pulled over into the back, parking in one of the bays with the vacuum cleaner and trash bin.

"I'm not taking Roach through that automated monster! I don't care how fancy it is or how many 'fun lights' it has!" Geralt had snarled out the window immediately upon parking in the bay next to Jaskier.

Jaskier had rolled his eyes behind his helmet. Geralt knew it by the way his head had tilted.

"Hakuna your tatas," Jaskier had drawled, pulling off his helmet, breath puffing in the chilly air, "we aren't here to wash Roach." He'd given Geralt a mischeivous grin. "Am going to wash my motorcycle!"

Geralt had opened his mouth to comment that there were no self-service bays for him to use, and had then realized what Jaskier had meant.

"You aren't--!"

"Ah am!"

"But don't you think it's a little...cold out?" Geralt asked, trying really hard to ignore his inner child and be a resonable, responsible adult. "I really don't think it's a good idea."

"It's not that cold," Jaskier sniffed, "And besides, Ah read that cold showers and ice baths are supposed to be good for you! Come on, Geralt! It's got fun lights and they sync to the music!"

Geralt had started grinning. It was a stupid idea, but then again... He had always wondered what it would be like. And there was just something about the multicolored blinking lights that called to him.

But the Witcher part of his brain recoiled with a hiss at the thought of getting wet.

Jaskier noticed the brief repulsed look on Geralt's face. "Okay, I'll do it, and you just record so we can show it to Lambert later!"

Geralt knew he should stop Jaskier. Yennefer was not going to be happy about this if she found out. But between the carnival like atmosphere of the blinking lights coupled with Jaskier's infectious grin, Geralt's common sense hadn't stood a chance. Besides, Yennefer was off in Aretuza at some kind of Magic the Gathering something or other. She would be gone for about a week.

"Fine, I'll record it." Geralt rumbled.

Jaskier had pulled up to the automated car wash, picked the wash he wanted, then proceeded to slowly roll through while Geralt stood at the exit, recording the whole thing.

Jaskier was gasping and yelping as he had rolled through the blast of water from the undercarriage cleaning jets.

He had laughed when the washer arms had gone around, soaking him with hot water.

He'd wiped his visor to clear it, only to have it, and the rest of him covered in a layer of foamy soap.

Geralt had seen the exact moment when Jaskier began to rethink his grand idea

He'd been frantically trying to clear the soap off his visor and ended up screaming when the spinning brushed launched a sneak attack and almost knocked him off his motorcycle.

The horizontal roof brush had swept down and gone right for his head. Jaskier had ended up getting bent over backwards by the brush, then almost knocked over the handlebars after sitting up and getting hit from behind as the brush made a return trip.

He was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he'd just bent over both ways for the fastest lay of his life.

Geralt could only laugh helplessly and try to keep the phone steady as Jaskier was assaulted by the brushes.

With the cheerfully glittering lights, the billowing steam, and the screaming, thrashing bard, it appeared as if a very energetic one-man rave was going on.

By then, Jaskier had gone from cussing excitedly, to cussing vehemently.

F**k-!

*unintelligible garbled scream*--motherf***er--*startled gasp*.

Sh*t, oh, sh*t!

*angry bard noises*

Jaskier is westling his helmet off the second the brushes stop, only to be hit in the face by rinse jets. His indignant screech comes out as a cut off gargle as the water soaks him to the skin.

Geralt had been laughing uproariously as Jaskier had finally reached the exit.

He'd sedately trundled towards the exit, an air of "I've seen some sh*t" about him.

Jaskier had screamed "It's F***ING COLD!" as he'd come through the blast of air from the exit dryers and got hit by the chilly outside air. He was really cold now, but something about the way Geralt was laughing and telling him how cool that had been made him feel like he could ignore it.

"See you at the house!" Jaskier had laughed, shoving his helmet on and reving his engine.

"Jask, maybe you should dry off in Roach first--!"

Jaskier had cheerfully given Geralt the finger and ridden off, leaving him to rush to his van to follow.

The ride home had been pure h*ll. Jaskier had regretted his decision barely five seconds after leaving the car wash. The already chilly air felt positively icy, and it cut right through his sodden clothing. He shook all the way home, and barely managed to get the key to turn in the lock before pulling off his helmet and opening the door with his numb hands.

Yennefer jumped up from the couch the minute Jaskier stumbled through the front door, pale, shaking, and with his hair soaking wet.

Jaskier cringed when he saw her.

She was supposed to be in Aretuza! What the f**k was she doing home?

"What the h*ll happened?" Yennefer gasped, her face a mask of worry.

Jaskier considered lying to her -- telling her he'd gotten caught in a rainstorm, or maybe thrown into the river by an angry mob (something that sounded cool, or at least believable) but she was already in his head, and was going to find out any second, so he went with a cryptic hint of "Ah, er, f-f-f-f**ked a c-c-c-car wash b-b-b-brush?"

"Julian Alfred Pankratz!"

Jaskier flinched.

"You a**fiddle!" she shouted, seeing the whole thing. She'd wanted to be mad, really, really mad at him, but he'd looked so pathetic standing there shivering...

"Babe, what were you thinking?" she sighed, knowing d*mn well that he hadn't been thinking at all.

She'd made him take a hot shower, got him some warm clothes, wrapped him in a blanket, and sat his a** on the couch. Then she'd made him take some tinctures, hot tea, and a spoonful of the foulest tasting potion he'd ever had pass his lips.

It had tasted absolutely awful. He imagined it was what Valdo Marx's a**hole tasted like.

Geralt had thought he could hide in his van and wait out Yennefer's wrath. Nope. Yennefer knew he'd gotten home just minutes after Jaskier. She had gone right out and dragged his a** inside and lectured him while Jaskier was taking his shower.

Then she'd made him take the Valdo's A**hole potion too. She claimed it was so he wouldn't get a cold or something. But Geralt knew the real reason:

She was just petty like that.

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burntheedges · 7 days

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hihihi!!! congratulations on 600!! so deserved 🥹

could I ask for a 📜 fic rec but I happened to see that you included the witcher on the list and PLEASE the way that I am down bad for geralt

have a lovely day!! xx

hi liv!! thank you!! 🧡

oh I am so happy to rec you some Witcher fics! I wasn't sure what you might like so I went for a range? most of the fics I've read are Geralt/Jaskier but I threw in some others. I love all of these.

...

Do It Again by thisgirlsays22 rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 6.7k words

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch. He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt. “Fuck.”

makes the heart grow fonder by fallingintodivinity rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 5.8k words

“Ah!” says the innkeeper, as the rowdy crowd finishes singing a song about Geralt’s heroics and segues seamlessly into a saccharine love ballad about the fairytale romance between the daughter of a baron and a lowly bard. “This song, it’s by the very same bard who sang those songs about you, Master Witcher! So in love, he is, with his beautiful lady.” “Oh, it’s so romantic,” sighs the barmaid dreamily. “That handsome bard, marrying a noble lady!” Geralt squints up at them doubtfully. “This…bard,” he says. “Dark hair, blue eyes, never shuts up?” “Aye,” the innkeeper says. “That’s the one.”

I haven't read this one but I have heard it's good:

Silver and Magic by Dragon_Dweller rated E, Geralt/reader, 98k

You're a Sorceress, Healer and occasional Monster Hunter, who meets the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, when you're in the middle of fighting a Bruxa. Neither of you expected your paths to cross again...or where that path takes you both together!

and this one is more of an entire AU world the author has created -- the series has 47 works and they aren't all about Geralt and Jaskier. There's a Discord server for it. It basically asks, what if the witchers decided monsters could also come in the shape of men?

The Accidental Warlord and His Pack series by inexplicifics rated E overall, many pairings, 627k words

First work in the series: With a Conquering Air rated E, Geralt/Jaskier, 27.8k

From the kinkmeme: AU Warlord!Geralt receives Tribute!Jaskier as a sacrifice to appease him in every way possible. Jaskier has no choice on the matter and he’s fully aware of the awful rumours that have spread about Geralt and his ruthless conquests. (But we all know those aren’t legit.) A classic angst with a happy ending please! A dash of smut to heal those scars and a sprinkle of new found love! Jaskier arrives at Kaer Morhen knowing his family gave him up without a second thought, and absolutely sure that the dreaded Warlord of the North will value him even less than his own blood did. But the White Wolf and his pack are not what Jaskier expected...and if he's unreasonably lucky, Kaer Morhen might become far more of a home than Lettenhove ever was. ...He is, in fact, going to be unreasonably lucky, because the Warlord of the North is a far finer monarch - and a far better man - than Redania's king has ever dreamed of being.

And a few more of my favs:

The god of scraped knees. by spqr rated M, Geralt/Jaskier, 8.3k

Jaskier’s been pretending to be human for so long now that he hardly remembers what it feels like to be a sorcerer. He doesn’t want to remember what it feels like to be a sorcerer. But people still murmur his name with reverence in certain dim halls; Dandelion, Dandelion, destroyer of worlds.

can i offer you a little salt for that wound by ShanaStoryteller not rated, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 14.5k

Two months after Geralt breaks up with him, Jaskier runs into Yennefer at Coachella. “Oh fuck no,” she says, which he thinks is pretty fucking unfair, all things considered.

you follow? series by shortcrust rated T, Geralt/Jaskier, overall 3.6k

epistolary fic in tweets/etc. - where Jaskier is a famous musician and Geralt is his husband that the entire internet is horny for (modern AU)

I hope you like some of these? tell me how it goes? 🧡

followers celebration

#bte600 #fic rec #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt x jasker x yennefer #ask me anything

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vesemirsexual · 6 months

Text

my tragedy/comedy au:

little lambert gets dragged kicking and screaming to kaer morhen, and Vesemir gets saddled with this feral child. he’s not cooperative at all, but Vesemir manages to get enough out of him - he wants to fucking go home. so trying to keep him talking, trying to bridge any sort of connection, Vesemir asks him about home. when little lambert spills the town name, his mothers name, Vesemir freezes a little and side eyes this kid so hard, looks at his eyes, his hair, his nose and goes ah fuck.

pre-dating this kids birth Vesemir had been injured on a contract out that way and it might’ve been worse if he hadn’t been saved by a young local herbalist and anyway they might’ve gotten really close, very nice young lady. And now Vesemir is looking at her kid and trying to not feel incredibly guilty that this is how he repays her apparently.

next year though, Vesemir does take a month out to head to that village (he lies about where he’s going) because Lamberts stories and fear and bruises put a heavy feeling in his heart, and he does owe that woman, and she sounds like she may need to cash it in (her husband sounds like a right prick)

anyway she’s dead when Vesemir arrives and he does the world a favour and send a her piece of shit husband straight to hell

so when young Witcher lambert heads back and is heartbroken to find his mother gone, he knows exactly who’s responsible and demands to know where the bastard is, only to find out that years ago he’d been confronted and slayed by a man of description

#katie txt

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Text

the moon will sing a song for me

The first of two chapters of my fic for @fandomtrumpshate is up! It's a gift for Kali, a modern with magic AU featuring werewolf!Jaskier, lots of pining, questionable taste in pizza toppings, and angst with a happy ending (in more ways than one.)

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: E

Warnings: none

Summary: When Jaskier returns after a full moon trapped in his wolf form, Geralt knows something is terribly wrong with his best friend and roommate—who Geralt may or may not have been pining over for the past decade. But as the days pass and Geralt, his fellow witchers, and Yennefer fail to figure out what's wrong with Jaskier, Jaskier starts to lose himself to the wolf. Can Geralt get him back before it’s too late?

You can read the first couple of scenes below or the whole thing here on AO3!

***

"So, are you going to kill me?" the werewolf asks through a mouthful of pineapple and pepperoni pizza. There's a string of cheese hanging from his bottom lip.

"Do I need to kill you?" Geralt hopes he sounds less uncertain than he actually is.

Nothing about the call they received at headquarters an hour ago about a vicious werewolf on Hierarch Boulevard prepared him for this. Not because he found a vicious werewolf, but because he found a young man busking outside a pizza parlor, wearing a seasonally inappropriate flowered shirt and a pair of jeans with so many holes in them, they may as well have been shorts.

When the kid—he only looks a couple of years younger than Geralt’s age of twenty-three, but he has a baby face that makes Geralt think ‘kid’—realized that the man standing over him was a witcher, he seemed more resigned than terrified.

“If we’re going to do this, you’re going to buy me a slice of pizza first,” he said and bewildered, Geralt agreed. And somehow ended up buying him an entire pie.

Now, the werewolf shrugs. He's doing everything he can to look casual, though Geralt can smell his anxiety. "I sure hope not."

"We got a call that you were menacing people on Hierarch Boulevard."

The werewolf's eyebrows draw together. "Look, I know my cover of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' wasn't my best work, but calling it menacing seems like an overreaction."

“Hm.”

“First of all.” The kid raises his piece of pizza as if making a point. “You’ll notice that I was playing my guitar. That’s impossible to do in my wolf form. I’ve tried. Second of all, we’re two weeks from a full moon. Even a baby werewolf probably won’t lose control this time of month. I’m twenty. I’ve been able to control my shift since I was like fourteen. Third, if I was going to go berserk, I wouldn’t do it in my favorite busking spot. I have a rapport with all the local business owners and mauling people is bad for business.”

“Then why would someone call and report you?”

The werewolf lets out a laugh entirely devoid of humor. “My guess is that it was that fuck Earl de Stael. He’s my girlfriend’s other boyfriend. We’ve never gotten along and lately he seems to have a bug up his butt, thinking Victoria likes me more than him. Which she probably does, but he has a trust fund, which more than makes up for the lack of personality and the terrible taste in clothes."

“Hm,” Geralt says again, because he really doesn’t know what to say.

“So.” The werewolf grabs a fifth slice of pizza. “What’s it like, being a witcher?”

“Not sure yet,” Geralt says mildly. “Only got my certification six months ago.”

“Is it true that you’re like a super soldier?”

“I don’t know about that.” Geralt shrugs.

“I mean, they did something to you.” The werewolf gestures at his face with a pizza crust. “Unless you were born with golden, slit-pupiled eyes?”

“I wasn’t. My eyes were green.” Geralt isn’t sure why he says that, but the words just come out.

“Fascinating.” The werewolf wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “So, am I your first werewolf?”

“No.”

“Did you buy the last one pizza?”

“No, I killed her.”

The werewolf’s heartbeat picks up and his eyes flick towards the door. “Ah.”

Geralt grimaces. “She had killed one person and was an active danger to three others. I had no choice.”

And he still threw up afterwards.

The werewolf smells afraid and Geralt hates that. The hardest thing about waking up after the Trials was suddenly being able to smell how scared everyone was of him. He tries to sound gentle, or as gentle as he can sound with his fucked up, gravelly voice, as he says, “Look, I’m not going to kill you. From what I can tell, the most monstrous thing about you is your taste in pizza toppings.”

The werewolf’s relief morphs into outrage, his mouth dropping open to reveal a ball of chewed up cheese, bread, and meat. “What in Melitele’s name is wrong with my taste in pizza toppings?”

“Pineapple and pepperoni?”

“The sweetness of the pineapple and the spiciness of the pepperoni—”

“No.”

“Just try it.” The werewolf shoves the tray of pizza at him. “It will change your life.”

“Hm.”

“Come on.” Blue eyes twinkle at him with mirth. They’re pretty blue eyes, Geralt can’t help but notice. “Do you trust me?”

“I’ve known you for fifteen minutes.” But Geralt takes a slice of pizza. Because he’s hungry and a little curious. Not because of the blue eyes.

“What do you think?” The werewolf sits forward.

“It tastes like shitty pizza with pineapple and pepperoni on top.” Geralt drops the rest of his slice back on the tray.

“So amazing?”

Geralt only grunts in answer.

The werewolf puts a hand over his heart. “How disappointing to learn that my new best friend has shit taste in pizza.”

“We’re not friends.”

“You saved my life. Well, spared it. I think that makes us friends.”

Geralt wants to say that the werewolf’s life was never in any danger, that no witcher he knows would have walked up to an innocent person who wasn’t even in wolf form and killed them. But then he thinks of some of the older witchers he’s met—like fucking Varin—and rethinks that. “I don’t even know your name. We can’t be friends if I don’t know your name.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to fix,” the werewolf says. “I’m Jaskier.”

***

Ten Years Later

The house is always too quiet on full moons.

When Geralt and Jaskier first moved in together eight years ago, it took Geralt months to adjust to all the noises his new roommate made. He and Jaskier had been friends for just over two years at that point, but Geralt had still been taken off guard by the sheer volume of noise that Jaskier could make. He even brushed his teeth loudly and his snores kept Geralt awake every night until he invested in a white noise machine and a pair of noise-canceling headphones.

But over the years, Geralt has grown so accustomed to the noise that the silence that greets him when he steps through the front door may as well be a roar. He’s used to coming home from his hunts to the sounds of Jaskier puttering around the kitchen on a mission to make late night pancakes, strumming on his guitar, or snoring in front of the TV. He always waits up for Geralt to come home from his hunts—or tries to, at least—even after all these years.

“If I go to bed before you get home, how will I know if you’ve had your insides torn out by a wyvern and are lying in a ditch somewhere?” Jaskier demanded the last time Geralt told him that the waiting up was unnecessary.

“That was one time.”

“Oh, you’ve only been disemboweled one time. How silly of me, I won’t worry anymore.”

The silence of the house is broken by a meow as Roach comes to greet Geralt, tail twitching in irritation at the indignity of being left alone for hours.

“Hey, girl.” Geralt scoops her up, scratching under her chin. “How’s it been?”

Roach meows at him again. She never likes full moons either.

“I know,” Geralt says. “He’ll be back in the morning.”

That earns him an unimpressed look. Geralt almost reminds her that he’s the one who found her in the basement of a wraith-haunted abandoned house when she was just a tiny ball of fluff and brought her home to nurse her back to health, and then remembers that arguing with his cat that she should love him more than she loves his roommate probably isn’t a good sign. Anyway, he can’t begrudge Jaskier Roach’s love; his friend is far too lovable for anyone’s good, including Geralt’s.

Geralt carefully puts that thought out of his mind as he makes his way into the kitchen, Roach tucked under one arm. If Jaskier were here, he would be peppering Geralt with questions about tonight’s alghoul hunt, fussing over Geralt’s nonexistent wounds, and complaining loudly about the stench of necrophage that lingers on his armor. Geralt tries not to pay attention to the pang of regret in his belly as he heeds Roach’s pitiful meows and adds some fresh wet food to her half-full food bowl.

He checks the fridge to make sure they have enough eggs, then takes a rib-eye steak out of the freezer to defrost. When Jaskier comes home around dawn, exhausted and smelling like rabbit blood, Geralt will have breakfast waiting for him so Jaskier can wolf down an entire steak, a dozen eggs, and a pile of toast before going to bed to sleep off his full moon hangover. Geralt will spend the day curled up in bed with him, keeping him warm and comfortable.

If Jaskier were part of a pack, he would spend his full moon gamboling around the woods with his fellow werewolves and spend the day after collapsed in a puppy pile with his packmates. But Jaskier doesn’t have that. He spends his full moons alone and the day after, all he has is Geralt. While Jaskier usually is usually sanguine about his estrangement from the Novigrad and Lettenhove packs, it always seems to weigh on him in the days after the full moon. It’s the least Geralt can do to try and ease his loneliness.

Roach meows at him again and Geralt realizes he’s been staring out the sliding glass door at the woods behind their house, watching for a glint of blue eyes in the dark. He looks down to find his cat staring up at him in clear judgment. “Fuck off,” he tells her. “You miss him too.”

With an irritable twitch of her tail, she returns to her food and Geralt heads down the hall to wash the alghoul blood out of his hair before he goes to sleep. Dawn—and Jaskier—will be here before he knows it.

***

Geralt wakes to sunlight streaming through the window and Roach stepping on his face. He groans as he relocates her to the pillow, glancing at the clock to see that it's well past 8 AM. It takes him a moment to realize what’s wrong with this picture: the sound of the sliding glass door in the kitchen should have woken him hours ago when Jaskier returned home. Jaskier is never sneaky, especially when he’s clumsy with exhaustion the morning after a full moon.

“Fuck.” Geralt stumbles out of bed and across the hall to Jaskier’s room. He’s unsurprised to find the door ajar and Jaskier’s bed still empty, the blue and yellow comforter crumpled on the floor, just like it was the night before. Jaskier’s scent of eucalyptus and mint is present, but faint. He didn’t sleep here last night.

There are plenty of good reasons that Jaskier may not have returned home last night, Geralt tells himself, even as his sense of unease grows. Maybe he met another lone wolf last night and they’re off somewhere, cuddled together as they sleep off the moon’s effects. It wouldn’t be the first time Jaskier has forgotten to tell Geralt when he was going off with some new paramour.

But lone wolves like Jaskier are vulnerable, both to trophy hunters and to other werewolves. Jaskier has no pack to protect him if he gets into trouble. Hell, Earl de Stael alone has tried to kill him at least a half a dozen times in the past decade. The thought of Jaskier in a hunter’s snare or falling under another werewolf’s claws sends a nauseous feeling crawling up Geralt’s throat. Not panic. Witchers don’t get the luxury of panic.

A scratching noise from the kitchen distracts him from his not-panic. Heart pounding a bit too hard than a witcher’s should, Geralt hurries down the hall to the kitchen and finds Roach standing at the sliding glass door, meowing insistently. There’s a bear-sized wolf with brown fur and bright blue eyes standing on the back porch, panting in clear agitation. Geralt only occasionally sees Jaskier in his wolf form, because Jaskier rarely shifts outside of full moons, but he would know those blue eyes anywhere. He can see the fear in them.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” Geralt slides the door open and immediately winds up with a face full of fur as Jaskier jumps up, nosing at his face insistently. Geralt stumbles back under the unexpected weight and Jaskier backs off, whining apologetically. His ears are pinned back and his tail is tucked between his legs. Even trying to make himself look as small as possible, he takes up most of their tiny kitchen.

“What happened?” Geralt runs his fingers through Jaskier’s fur, searching for signs of injury. There’s a bit of dried blood crusted around his mouth, but that more than likely belongs to whatever forest critter was Jaskier’s dinner last night.

Jaskier only whines in response.

“Why are you still a wolf?” Geralt asks.

Big blue eyes stare up at him mournfully.

A horrible thought occurs to Geralt. “Can you not shift back?”

Jaskier shakes his massive head from side to side.

Geralt knows that young werewolves often have this problem. Jaskier likes to laughingly tell the story of shifting into wolf form in his middle school bathroom after a pretty girl asked for his number and not being able to shift back for the rest of the day. But Jaskier isn’t a pimply preteen, but a thirty year old man. Outside of a full moon, he should be in perfect control of his shift. Most of the time, the only signs that he’s not perfectly human are his penchant for extra-rare meat and his superhuman stamina (which Geralt has only heard about secondhand.)

“Did someone do something to you?” Geralt demands.

Jaskier whines and shakes his head again.

Geralt has a thousand other questions, but Jaskier can’t answer any of them right now and seems to be growing more agitated by the minute. Running what he hopes is a soothing hand down Jaskier’s back, Geralt says, “It’s going to be okay, Jask. I’ll call Yenn. Whatever happened, she can help us sort it out.”

***

“What the fuck have you gotten into now, Jaskier?” Yennefer demands, arms folded over her chest in clear disapproval.

From the wreckage of what was once their couch—it turns out that the couch they picked up at a yard sale six years ago wasn’t structurally sound enough to support the weight of a full-grown werewolf leaping onto it—Jaskier grumbles.

“Don’t start,” Yennefer snaps. “I just had to get up early the morning after a full moon for this.”

Normally, Geralt is amused by Jaskier and Yennefer’s bickering. When he first met Yennefer, she and Jaskier couldn’t stand each other. By the time he and Yennefer broke up, she and Jaskier were such good friends that Geralt was a little worried that Jaskier would choose her friendship over his. But he and Yennefer managed to make it through their breakup and become better friends than they ever were lovers, and now she and Jaskier meet up for brunch every other weekend. They bicker constantly, complain about each other endlessly, and would both happily kill anyone who so much as looked at the other one wrong—including Geralt, he often suspects.

But Geralt can’t find any amusement right now, not when Jaskier still looks so frightened. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I don’t think he can shift back.”

Yennefer frowns down at Jaskier.

“Can you fix this?” Geralt hears the thread of desperation in her own voice.

“You’re assuming there’s something to fix.” Yennefer walks over to the werewolf, putting a hand on his snout. Jaskier closes his eyes and leans into the touch. Her expression softens. “I’m going to have to look into your mind, Jaskier. I’m not going to see something that will scar me for life, will I?”

Jaskier huffs.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” But Yennefer still slides her hand up to rest on top of Jaksier’s head and closes her eyes. Geralt’s medallion starts to hum around his neck while she works her mind-reading magic. He tries not to look visibly impatient as he watches the two of them for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, Yennefer steps back and Geralt asks, “What did you see?”

“Nothing.” She frowns down at Jaskier. “He doesn’t know why this has happened and neither do I. If there’s a curse on him, it’s subtle enough that I can’t detect it. He has no memory of being attacked. He’s not injured. There’s no explanation that I can figure out.”

“Then how do we fix it?” Geralt’s voice comes out rougher than he intends.

Jaskier whines, ducking his head.

Yennefer shoots Geralt a sharp look. “Of course I’m not going to let you stay a wolf, Jaskier. You’re coming with me to the Conclave at Thanedd next month, remember? I can’t tolerate that many sorcerers without you there to scandalize them.”

Jaskier makes an annoyed grumbling noise.

“What’s he saying?” Geralt asks.

“He says he’s more worried that he’s going to miss his gig with Priscilla on Friday night,” Yennefer says. “Maybe he was cursed by someone who wants to have a nice night out without listening to his warbling.”

Jaskier barks and Yennefer reaches over to scratch his nose, which causes him to huff, even as he leans into it.

“So what do we do?” Geralt asks. “If it’s most likely not a curse, how do we turn him human again?”

Jaskier whines softly into Yennefer’s hand and she frowns, all the humor leaving her face.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt demands.

Yennefer hesitates, then shakes her head. “Nothing. He’s just being his dramatic self.” Pulling away from Jaskier, she turns to Geralt. “I’ll see if I can find a spell to safely force a shift. In the meantime, I’m sure there’s someone in the Novigrad Pack who will know something.”

“You’re assuming we can find someone in the Novigrad Pack that will help us,” Geralt says and Jaskier barks an agreement.

“Wave your swords around if you have to. Most people find that sufficiently motivating.”

Geralt is about to argue, then notices Jaskier looking at him with big, worried eyes. He knows he’ll wave his swords at whoever he needs to if it means hearing Jaskier’s voice again and seeing his eyes spark with laughter instead of worry. With a sigh, he crosses the room to kneel down in front of his friend, leaning his forehead against Jaskier’s. He doesn’t even complain when Jaskier licks him on the chin, even though his breath smells like dead rabbits and worse things.

“We’ll figure this out, Jask,” he murmurs, burying his fingers into soft brown fur. “We’ll fix this, I promise.”

***

Read the rest on AO3!

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

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adastra121 · 8 months

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…I had an idea.

Touchstarved Witcher AU

Mhin of Eridia, the mighty witcher of the School of the Raven. And their ever-present sing-songy twit. Not pictured — the witcher's loyal cat Roach.

I also made a "Toss a Coin" parody below.

Toss a Coin to Your Hunter (Touchstarved Witcher AU)

When a humble Hound Graced a ride along With Mhin of Eridia, Alon came this song.

When the White Crow fought A multi-eyed devil, Its army of Soulless, The Shroud did they rebel.

It came after me With masterful deceit, Sliced off my arm, And it left me to bleed!

While the devil's claws Minced our tender meat, And so cried the Witcher They can't be bleat!

Toss a coin to your Witcher. Oh, Valley of Plenty Oh, Valley of Plenty, oh Toss a coin to your Witcher. Oh, Valley of Plenty

At the edge of the fog, Fight the mighty horde That bashes and breaks you And brings you to mourn.

They felled every beast Lurking in your streets Deep down in the shadows From whence it came.

They wiped out your pest, Got kicked in their chest. They’re a friend of humanity, So give them the rest.

That's my epic tale! Our champion prevailed, Defeated the villain, Now pour’em some ale!

Toss a coin to your Witcher! Oh, Valley of Plenty Oh, Valley of Plenty, oh Toss a coin to your Witcher! A friend of humanity.

Toss a coin to your Witcher! Their pockets are empty, Their pockets are empty, oh. Toss a coin to your Witcher! A friend of humanity.

Toss a coin to your Witcher! Oh, Valley of Plenty Oh, Valley of Plenty, ah-ah, oh Toss a coin to your Witcher, A friend of humanity!

Bonus — Mhin’s notes

Mhin: …That’s not what happened. I wasn't there when it severed your arm, and we would both be dead if there was a Soulless army. Alon: Look, Mhinny — can I call you Mhinny? Mhin: No. (Was that a short joke?) Alon: Fair enough—I like you, Witcher, but your attitude’s not gonna do much for changing the rest of the folks’ minds, so we’re gonna let your accomplishments do the talking — er, singing? — and if the truth needs some embellishments here and there to truly capture the spirit of it, well…that’s the job of a skilled bard. Mhin: You’re not even an actual bard. Alon: Besides, the number of Soulless you’ve slain over the course of your life has got to be enough to make up an army, right? So it’s not quantitatively a lie! Mhin: The truth died the moment you started singing, if that's what you meant by "capturing its spirit." Moreover, crows and ravens are two different species of birds, they can’t be used interchangeably. Alon: You try coming up with a good rhyme for “raven!” Shaven? Cravin'? Mhin: You…You didn’t even rhyme anything with “crow” in the song? Alon: Savin'? Haven? Depraven? Huh. I guess there are some good rhymes. “White Raven of Eridia…” Mhin: …………….What was that line about my pockets? Alon: Okay, you can’t be mad about that, that’s the one true part in the song. According to your standards, anyway. Mhin: Yes. *glares and twirls knife* And how did you know about that one true part? Alon: … Alon: *thrusts the coin-filled hat to Mhin* Hey, wow, look at that, buddy! Those pockets aren’t empty anymore, haha! Who said silvers are only for monsters, eh? :D

#honestly I didn’t change much from the original “toss a coin”#all the coins in alon's hat are from people paying them to stop singing #the drawings weren't very big to begin with so I struggled so hard to draw the tiny raven in Mhin's medallion #oh the struggles of traditional art #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved vn #red spring studio #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved oc #alon the hound #witcher au #touchstarved fanart #my oc #original character #my art #traditional art #Spotify

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inexplicifics · 1 year

Note

I'm autistic and every time ppl mention Witcher senses my first reaction is "ah yes, the grasses gave them autism" glfkdjajdhs I KNOW THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS but i like to believe that in AWAU the Witcher Keep is the most accessible place for autistic ppl. Oh the light hurts your eyes and noises get Too Loud sometimes? Yeah, same. We try to keep sensory input to a minimum too.

Also: autistic person who can't read social cues "you mean witchers just say what they mean?? THEY DON'T PLAY WEIRD GUESSING GAMES???"

I can't say I intended it, but yeah, Kaer Morhen in the AW AU would be very good for sensory issues and also people who like their social cues easier to read!

#questions answered #accidental warlord au

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amazeingartist · 10 months

Text

LITERALLY RAMBLINGS CUZ TWITTER SILENCED ME AND ITS BEEN 2 HOURS

twitter shitting itself is awful cause it was my go to spam for random ass thoughts and it’s only been 2 hours since I got cut off for the day and my brain feels like it’s gonna explode so ima ramble here instead because the buzzing is actually keeping me awake so feel free to skip over (and cause tumblr has less of a limit it’s gonna be a proper ramble)

anyway, this is kinda related (not entirely random unrelated thoughts) since it’s to do with the fandom but holy fuck there’s so many cool & talented artist like huh?? and I know to some I’m probably one of them which is cool but also kinda wild, it’s seriously unreal like how did that happen—any of y’all know that current tiktok trend of tmnt audio going “it’s shredder” and then shredder turns around also surprised?? Yeah that’s me I’m not kidding—but yeah, anytime a larger account notices smth of mine or fucking follows me I’m like. gobsmacked, brain needs a good few seconds or even a minute to comprehend. BUT YEAH BACK TO OTHER ARTISTS AROUND, this fandom is filled with such creativity and I’d like to interact with it more and feed the good vibes, sometimes I can but sometimes it’s like. ah yes, welcome social anxiety (it’s not welcome at all)

ok brain feels lighter, now there’s more space to make for the au’s, which I remembered old convos I’d had with a couple users about a cybertronian au where uhh, ghost had 3 forms and one of them is a rifle and his trauma was being forced to stay as a weapon of death but was freed and now him and soap match vehicles and go on long romantic driving dates (also gets to the point where ghost let soap wield him as a weapon willingly cuz what way to better protect your bf while reclaiming apart of yourself you know?). the other old au convo was about a Witcher au and I’m not able to properly share thoughts on it but omg Witcher ghost and merc/traveler soap have. my entire heart (y’all know that one artist that drew the stunning art of the au?? yeah been thinking about it a lot today)

Also I have a new au brewing, been talking it out with a pretty cool mutual over discord and can I say, holy fuck I love knights, what I would give to be armour (the gender envy is so strong,,,)

ok head empty for real this time, finally,,, I can rest

#ramblings

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mrsarnasdelicious · 3 months

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Alright, Yous asked for this - PART TWO

So, the list of all my drafts doesn't fit in one part...

Riding the Beasts SCP 682 smut CW: Monsterfucking

Sihtric AU-arama Just all osrts of Sihtric AUs, in a long, big list.

Some good ass edging Edging Modern!Sihtric, straight up smut

I'll Be Your Prize [Finan x Sihtric] Uhtred tells Finan he can ask for the thing he wants most, so Finan asks for Sihtric.

The Things We Do With Power - I The Boys fic, mild fix it, predominantly wicked smut.

A very old promise Once Upon the beginning of my blog, I promised to write a certain poly smut thing, so here goes nothing.

All About A Gag Sihtric x Finan x Osfert. Sihtric fakes a gag and Finan is not having it.

Domestic - Lan Mandragoran Lan x Reader, being cute.

One Big Bed Poly Wheel of Time smut. Rand is a slut in this one.

The Pantsident Mark tore his pants. Mark x Reader smut

A Long Drive [Marnas] Mark rips his pants and Arnas makes full use of the situation.

Orgasm Desperation - Stephen Colley Stephen x Reader, with reader making Stephen beg for it.

BoB Sexarama Shameless, plotless smut headcanons.

A3 - Throuple Aethelflead x Aldhelm x Aethelred headcanons

BoB Poly Family BS You get involved with Finan, Sihtric and Osferth and raise children with them. Modern verse, headcanon list

Band of Bebbanburgh - XII - Getting Ink Done Uhtred, Osferth, Finan and Sihtric are getting tatted and Sihtric likes it a bit too well.

First Kiss - Draco Malfoy Set during book six.

First Kiss - Eric Northman Simple as.

Basically every thought I have ever had about Sihtric, but in a pile Full ass headcanon dump on my very fav himbo.

Good Good Good, Good Vibrations Mr F uses a vibe on reader, in public, sorta.

Orgasm Desperation - Game!Lambert Needy Needy Lambertini.

Lambert in the Middle Lambert getting some DP from Eskel and Geralt.

Another Lovely Puppy Pile Reader x Many witchers (and Jaskier)

Band of Bebbanburgh - XI - Tetanus Uhtred 'challenges' Sihtric to catch a pigeon. Hoemboy gets pecked and scratched, but has no tetnaus immunisation, so Finan and Osferth have to wrangle him to go to the dco's. Sihtirc does not like doctors and has to be pacified with sexy times from his boyfriends.

Giving Birth to Sihtric's Child It is not reader's first and it will most certainly not be the last.

TLK Underworld AU Headcanon List about a mafia au of sorts

Finan Eating You Out He's good with his mouth, let's be real

How He Met Me - VI August POV version of The Prophet [fic]

At the Desk - Napoleon Solo Napoleon Solo fucking reader on her desk, Arranged Marriage verse.

Sex in the Changing Room - Modern!Sihtric Raunchy dirty naughty Sihtric fucking reader in the changing rooms of the local clothing store.

On the table - Sihtric Canon verse, he humps you on the table

Sex in the Bath - Captain Syverson Bath sex with Sy

Ever Curiouser - I Hellboy Longfic, polyship.

Some Bebbanboys smut, bc I am nasty Smutty stuff with Sihtric x Finan x Osferth

Ben Daimio x Werewolf Reader A beastly smut

The Bebbanboys Band AU headcanons

Ben Daimio - Sneaking Around Smutty, you and Ben avoid getting caught while fucking on the job

Sweetheart Prompt #3 Ivar Lothbrok, suprise surprise

Band of Bebbanburgh - X - What Sihtric Does Best Smut fest about Sihtric sucking dick

Ulysses Klaue Smut Does exactly what it says on the tin.

No Way We Are Making Homework - Modern Ubbe Modern Ubbe x Reader. You should be making homework, but you are not.

Nasty Nasty Dirty Gross Ubbe CW: Incest Ubbe uses one specific way of making Hvitserk listen.

Ubbe x Alfred - Modern AU Ubbe and Alfred shower together.

This Home I Built - TLK Poly Fest Selfish fix it fic, lotsa smut, mainly about Sihtric.

Santiago Garcia Breeding Kink V1 Santi knocking you up.

Alpha Geralt Going Feral Nasty smut with no excuses

Sihtric - Breeding Kink V1 Sihtric knocking you up

Omega Sihtric Going Feral Needy Omega Sihtric

Alpha Geralt Scenting You Scenting sesh getting out of hand.

Santiago Garcia - Rough Sex Ah yes, more shameless porn with no plot.

Scenting Omega Sihtric Scenting Omega Sihtric gets out of hand.

My Fair Lady Shameless Aldflaed smut

Expectations - Loki Shameless Loki smut

Choking Sam Winchester Reader applying some pressure to a big moose, sexually.

At Saltwick What happened between Sihtric, Finan and Osferth while the kids were asleep.

Sex in Public - Sihtric Canon verse.

Neteyam x Au'Nung Neteyam almost died and Au'Nung is distressed.

Proof That I am an Aweful Person [TLK Poly stuff] More ReaderxPretty Boys headcanons

Fjall Stoneheart - Doggystyle Shameless smut

Band of Bebbanburgh - IX - Seeking Refuge Osferth goes to Finan when his homelife starts turning for the worst.

Breeding V1 - Jake Sully Jake Sully knocking you up.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VIII - Show You How Sihtric teases Osferth how to please Finan

Band of Bebbanburgh - VII - Small Comforts Finan having himself a slice of Sihtric.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VI - Sihtric's Dream Sihtric wakes up from a bad dream and Finan and Osferth put him at ease.

By God(s) and Men - Finan x Sihtric Canon verse; Sihtric and Finan figure out their dynamic.

The Baker's Boy - Finan x Sihtric Modern AU; Finan just realised he's been in love with Sihtric all along.

The Witan - Mark/Arnas/Reader CW: RPF and RPS Established Arnas x Reader and Past Marnas. Arnas convinced reader to come along to a TLK cast vaca and things spin swiftly out on his control.

All Three of Them Reader x Sihtric x Finan x Osferth smut

Threesome with Sihtric and Osferth Shameless smut with a lil twist

Threesome with Sihtric and Finan Dirty smutty smut smut smut

#there is a part three coming #yes I am not yet done #current score: 110

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flowercrown-bard · 1 year

Text

Not a Real Marriage

(arranged marriage au - part 16)

previous part / masterpost / ao3

word count: 10700

Geralt wasn’t sure what he had expected Jaskier to look like the morning after an evening spent drinking with his brothers. If he was being completely honest, he didn’t expect to see much of Jaskier at all. He must be sporting quite the headache after last night, considering even Geralt with his witcher-metabolism had quite the ringing in his head this morning. If he hadn’t had duties to fulfil - and Vesemir’s dressing-down to look forward to if he neglected to do his tasks for the day - he would have stayed in bed until midday. Jaskier, however, looked rosy cheeked and surprisingly well rested, when Geralt bumped into him on his way back from feeding the chickens.

For some reason, Jaskier was bundled up in several layers of clothes Geralt had lended him over the weeks. The red scarf he was wearing was so big that Jaskier’s nose barely peeked out.

“Going somewhere?” Geralt asked, ignoring the hammering behind his temples.

“I am,” Jaskier replied cheerfully. “At least I hope so.”

“Hmm?”

“I believe I’ve been promised to be shown around the mountain? We haven’t done it yet and Vesemir said that the snowstorms are going to start soon so we don’t have much time left to go out.”

Geralt blinked. “You want to go on that ride today?”

“If you’re amenable. I would love to.”

Where Jaskier’s cheeks weren’t hidden away by the scarf, they turned a lovely shade of red. Geralt’s heart picked up speed and he did his best to blink away the misery of a hungover morning. He would be damned if he missed the chance of going on a ride with Jaskier because of a stupid thing like a hangover.

“Yes,” he said quickly and with a little teasing smile added, “It would be a shame if you had to get undressed again after going through all the trouble of putting on all those clothes.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting undressed,” Jaskier muttered, the words muffled by the scarf.

Geralt choked, forcibly forbidding his thoughts from straying into dangerous territory. Instead he focused on thinking of places he could show Jaskier.

“Meet me at the gate? I need to get my cloak and get Roach saddled.” He waited for Jaskier to nod his agreement, before he turned away. After a couple of steps, he paused again. “Is there anything I should pack? Food? Some wine maybe?”

“No wine,” Jaskier said quickly.

Geralt’s lips quirked up. Ah, so Jaskier wasn’t immune to the effects of a night of revelry after all. Jaskier was a brilliant actor, if he could just pretend to have a clear head this morning.

“Are you sure you want to do this today?” Concern crept into Geralt’s posture. “We can do this some other time when you don’t have a headache.”

He glanced out of a nearby window. The sky was already filled with snow-heavy clouds. Vesemir was right. They didn’t have much time until they would be trapped inside the Keep.

“I don’t.” Jaskier grinned boyishly. “Vesemir gave me a cure for the headache. And a lecture about drinking with Lambert.” He let out a chuckle that warmed Geralt’s insides even more than the alcohol had warmed him the night before. “I take it he didn’t extend the same courtesy to you?”

Geralt snorted.

“No. He thinks if he doesn’t help us with the headaches, we’ll learn some sort of lesson.”

“How lucky you are,” Jaskier said theatrically, as he reached into the pockets of his cloak, “to have a husband as charming and persuasive as me. Catch!” Without further warning, he tossed something to Geralt, who reacted on instinct. He caught the small bottle mid-air, popped the cork and sniffed. It smelled like bitter herbs.

“What did you do to get him to give you this?” Geralt asked, perplexed and downed the tincture in one go. He shuddered at the bitter taste, but it would be worth it, if it meant he’d get to fully enjoy the day with Jaskier.

“I told him that I wanted to go out today and that you wouldn’t be able to protect me if you had a hangover - and surely it wouldn’t be great for the treaty if I got hurt.”

Geralt lifted a brow. “Really? You played the political consequences card?” “Of course not. But I did tell him about my plans for the day and he agreed that it would be better if you didn’t have a headache for that.”

“Should I be concerned about your plans?”

“Not at all,” Jaskier said, something tentatively soft entering his voice. “I think - I hope you’ll like them.” “I’m sure I will.”

He lingered another moment, unwilling to leave Jaskier, despite knowing that he’d see him again right away.

He shook himself and went on his way to get ready. He rushed through getting dressed appropriately for the weather, though he refused to be hectic around Roach, as he saddled her. When he led her to the gate, Jaskier was already waiting for him, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. When he caught sight of Geralt walking towards him, his face lit up. It almost reminded Geralt of their wedding day. Only this time, it was their choice to come to each other and Geralt didn’t feel like being led to the gallows.

It was only when Jaskier began to fiddle with the strap of a backpack, that Geralt realised that Jaskier was holding onto one. It looked stuffed and when Jaskier moved to fasten it onto Roach’s saddle, there was jingling and light clanging.

Geralt gave him a questioning look that Jaskier waved away. “You’ll see,” he simply said. He gave Geralt a scrutinising look that had Geralt shifting on his feet. He was suddenly painfully aware of the state of his old cloak; the fraying at the bottom and the holes on his shoulders, where his sword scabbard rubbed against the wool. It was probably not necessary to take his weapons with him, so he had left the steel sword in his room, but the weight of the silver sword on his back grounded him and helped settle his nerves.

In one less than elegant motion, Jaskier unwound the scarf from around his neck and draped the red cloth around Geralt instead. He smoothed it out gently.

“There,” he said, satisfied, “Now you won’t go cold.” Geralt frowned and already opened his mouth to protest, when he inhaled and caught the scent clinging to the scarf. It smelled of lute wood, paper and that distinct smell that was purely Jaskier’s. His breath caught in his throat. The scent was far too prominent for how little he had seen Jaskier wear this scarf. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that Jaskier had used the scarf as an additional blanket in the night, but that was … he caught Jaskier’s eyes. There was a hopeful shyness in his eyes. Oh. Jaskier knew. He remembered what Coën and Aiden had told him yesternight about sharing clothes. And still he was wearing Geralt’s clothes. More even, he was giving Geralt something that smelled like him. Any words he could have spoken dried on Geralt’s lips, but he got the impression that Jaskier noticed his realisation even so. His shyness morphed into relief and he turned away to put a hand on Roach’s saddlehorn. He looked over his shoulder to Geralt. “Give me a hand?”

Jaskier was more than capable of mounting a horse by himself, of that Geralt was sure by now. But he didn’t mention it. Instead, he stepped closer and folded his hands together so he could give Jaskier a boost. Once Jaskier was seated, Geralt swung himself behind him into Roach’s back.

With a content sigh, Jaskier leaned back against him and Geralt wound one arm around his waist, making sure he was safe and secure, before he gave Roach the nudge to move. He didn’t take the direct path to the spot he had decided on. Instead he steered Roach this way and that, wherever he thought Jaskier might like. Past a small waterfall, across a wooden bridge some bear-witchers had built, through a patch of flowers that still resisted the cold. Every once in a while, he explained the mountain to Jaskier.

“This is where Eskel and I used to run off to as children.”

“This bit is part of the Trail we had to run as novices.”

“This is how far I got when I decided to steal Roach and run away with her, before I got lost and had to wait for Vesemir to take me back home.”

“This is where Lambert set of his first bomb and almost burned Vesemir’s moustache off.”

Those things weren’t full stories yet, but maybe Geralt would find the right words to tell Jaskier more about what these places meant to him and his family one day. Even so, Jaskier gave soft hums, chuckled and offered stories of his own. He talked about his own attempt at running away to become a bard - an attempt that had ended rather abruptly when he had realised that his dancing shoes weren’t exactly made for long distance walking. He talked about his sisters and travelling with his father. As he talked about his family at Lettenhove, Geralt realised that he used almost the same fond tone he used when talking about Eskel, Lambert, Coën or Aiden. Not Geralt though. The tone Jaskier used to talk to Geralt was reserved only for him.

After a while, they quieted down again, except for when Jaskier let out soft gasps, whenever he saw something he liked. Every time there was a particularly interesting root of a tree, a rabbit scuttling away or a pretty cloud, Jaskier looked over his shoulder to Geralt; always making sure he was seeing the pretty thing as well. Always letting him know that this ride was already making him happy.

With every passing moment, Geralt felt himself being swept away by Jaskier's excitement more and more. It was contagious and made him see the mountain that was his home with changed eyes. When he finally pulled Roach to a halt, there was a small smile tugging at his lips, that he knew wouldn't leave anytime soon.

He helped Jaskier dismount, his hands lingering on his waist, even after Jaskier had come to stand securely on solid ground. Jaskier's hands in turn were holding onto Geralt's upper arms. After a moment, he let them slide down, over his forearms, until he was clasping Geralt's hands in his gloved ones.

Geralt took it as an invitation to guide Jaskier along the hidden path leading them through thick pine trees. Roach followed dutifully and the anticipation was coming off of Jaskier in waves.

Geralt pushed some branches aside, revealing the sight of a small lake. Along the edges, some yellow and purple flowers were blossoming that had stubbornly endured the harsh autumn and were now facing the impending winter with their heads held high. Jaskier gasped, and squeezed Geralt's hand.

“It's beautiful,” he gasped. He worried at his lip, visibly hesitating. “Does this place have meaning to you too?”

“Not yet.”

Jaskier softened at that admission.

“Would you mind giving me an Igni?”

The question came so unexpectedly that Geralt took a step back, dropping Jaskier's hand.

“What?”

“Fire,” Jaskier explained needlessly. “That day at the hot springs, you said I could ask you if I ever needed a light again.” He went to Roach, pulling the bag he had fastened onto her, down. There was clanking again, and then, Jaskier was holding up two lanterns, small enough that they could fit into the palm of a hand. Judging by the bulge of the bag, there probably were at least four more lanterns in there. Jaskier brought them over to Geralt and held them up for him to light them. Jaskier’s face was cast in a warm orange glow, when Geralt cast the sign carefully. The flames danced in his eyes, making him look like something otherworldly. Jaskier gave him a beaming smile and placed the lanterns on the ground at the edge of the lake, before fetching the rest of the lights. The glow was reflected on the water that rippled softly in the breeze. Soon, the lanterns would be the only source of light here, with the sun going down in the afternoon already this season. And here Jaskier was, bringing with him light and warmth, as he always did.

After Jaskier had put the last lantern in place, he pulled a blanket out of the bag and laid it out on the ground. “Are you sure that’s warm enough?” Geralt asked, eying the blanket with distrust. “The ground is almost frozen.”

“Right you are,” Jaskier said without a care in the world. “But I seem to recall that a certain husband of mine is far more resistant to the cold than me.” He patted the blanket invitingly. “And I also seem to recall that this husband doesn’t mind having me in his lap.” Despite the teasing tone, Jaskier’s raised brows and tilted head made it obvious that it was a question rather than an assumption.

Geralt hummed in affirmation and lowered himself onto the blanket, making sure to sit in a way that would allow Jaskier to sit in his lap as comfortably as possible. Once Jaskier realised that Geralt truly didn’t mind, his face lit up and he snuggled against him, chest to chest, laying his head on Geralt’s shoulder. On instinct, Geralt raised one hand to cradle the back of Jaskier’s head. Idly, he played with Jaskier’s hair, eliciting a soft sigh from the bard.

“I’m happy,” Jaskier sighed. “Here, with you.” He paused. “Always and anywhere with you, really.” “Me too.”

Jaskier lifted his head a little and their eyes met. With Jaskier’s back to the lanterns, his face was cast in deep shadows. Geralt’s eyes followed the shadow of Jaskier’s lashes. They fluttered, as Jaskier’s eyes dipped lower, to Geralt’s lips.

“I’ve got something for you,” Jaskier said, a blush creeping over his cheeks. He reached into his pockets and pulled out something small and tangled. He cursed under his breath and fiddled with the thing until Geralt could recognise it as a braided bracelet.

“It’s not as big as giving you a shirt,” Jaskier said sheepishly and Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

So Jaskier truly remembered that conversation. Giving him the scarf hadn’t just been something he had done on a whim. There was no ambiguity about whether he knew what sharing clothes meant to Geralt and he had still done it. And now he was giving him something else. His thoughts were so loud that it took him a moment to realise that Jaskier was still speaking.

“-and not as big of a statement as the dagger you gave me.” He patted his hip and only now did Geralt notice the sheathe Jaskier had fastened onto his belt. Something inside him unwound and he leaned closer to Jaskier, as if pulled in by chaos.

Jaskier pulled off his gloves and took Geralt’s hand, clasped the bracelet around his wrist.

“I made it out of old lute strings. Since the song isn’t something you can carry with you.” He paused. “And since you haven’t heard it fully yet.”

Geralt looked down at the bracelet and caressed the tightly interwoven strings, until the tips of his fingers reached Jaskier.

“Thank you,” he said breathlessly. “It’s perfect.”

The corners of Jaskier’s eyes wrinkled with joy, before a frown suddenly appeared between his brows. He pulled back, crinkling his nose.

“What-” Geralt began to ask, but then he saw a snowflake land on Jaskier’s nose and Jaskier pulled the same face again.

A chuckle rose up in Geralt’s chest, starting out small, then quickly turning warm and loud like a roaring fire. He watched enraptured as the confusion on Jaskier’s face melted alongside the snowflakes and morphed into wonder.

“Geralt!” A delighted giggle slipped past his lips. With all the grace than a newborn foal learning to run, he got to his feet and spread his arms, as if trying to catch the entire cloud that was hanging in the sky and all the snow it would bring. “It’s snowing!” Ignoring Geralt’s protests that he should put his gloves back on before his fingers froze off, Jaskier dropped the gloves to the ground and held his hands up, giggling like a child whenever he caught a snowflake in his palm. He spun around, as more and more snow began to fall around him. He must have gotten dizzy from all the twirling, for he staggered right into Geralt, who caught him.

“Careful,” Geralt said, as he let go.

“Guess I’m in danger of falling for you,” Jaskier replied with a cheeky wink. He tilted his head back and thankfully missed the flustered expression on Geralt’s face. He was far too busy sticking out his tongue and trying to catch snowflakes with it.

“Don’t just stand there all judgy,” he said, after catching one snowflake and grinning at Geralt triumphantly. “Join me.”

Geralt shook his head fondly but decisively.

“Oh come on.” Jaskier tugged at Geralt’s arm, not making him budge in the slightest. “Don’t tell me now is the time that you remember you don’t know how to have fun.” “I’m having plenty of fun.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Geralt said softly, refusing to match Jaskier’s challenging tone. “It’s nice - seeing you be happy. Even though I still think you should put your gloves back on. You’re going to regret touching snow with your bare hands.”

“And I’m willing to endure you telling me ‘I told you so’ when it happens.” A mischievous spark gleamed in Jaskier’s eyes. “Besides, with cold hands, I can do this!”

Quick as lightning, Jaskier flung himself at Geralt, getting up on his tiptoes and stuck a hand in the back of Geralt’s cloak, right beneath his collar. A shiver ran down Geralt’s spine, as Jaskier’s icy hand pressed against the back of his neck and he lifted his shoulders instinctively.

“Aha! So you’re not quite as immune to the cold as you always claim!”

“I am,” Geralt grumbled. “You just surprised me.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jaskier snorted. “You look like a disgruntled cat.”

Geralt growled and bared his teeth in reply. Laughing, Jaskier jumped back, thankfully - regrettably - removing his hand from Geralt’s neck. He evaded Geralt, as he half-heartedly made to snatch Jaskier, spouting nonsense about throwing him in the lake as revenge.

“Roach, save me!” Jaskier squealed, as he ducked behind the mare, who gave Geralt a decidedly unimpressed look, as if saying ‘really? This is the man you fell in love with?’, but she didn’t move away, when Jaskier pressed his hands against her neck with a dramatic sigh. “Ahh, my dear lady, you are a much better hand-warmer than my husband.”

“Call her a hand-warmer again and she’ll bite you,” Geralt said amused, when Roach swatted at Jaskier with her tail, as if he was a pesky fly and crossed his arms.

“Nah, she wouldn’t. You love me too much to let anything happen to my hands.” He wiggled his fingers and gave Geralt a boyish grin. Maybe he expected a reply, some teasing or protest, but Geralt was frozen, all words remained stuck in his throat, because yes. By the gods, yes, he loved Jaskier. Hearing him say it, even if only in jest, made something inside him soar. It made him want to say it as well.

“Besides,” Jaskier continued, evidently unaware of Geralt’s swirling thoughts, “I can pay her back for her services. I promised to write a poem about her, remember?”

Truth be told, Geralt had forgotten all about that promise, but the thought of Jaskier taking the time to write about Roach made his heart beat faster.

“Let’s hear it then.”

Jaskier cleared his throat, straightened his spine and put on the exaggerated expression of an arrogant poet. When he spoke, his voice took on a serious note that demanded attention.

“The mightiest mare,

The sturdiest steed

The heroic-est horse

She is indeed.

Prickly and pretty

and petty is she.

In conclusion:

The best horse that ever I did see.”

He kept up the haughty expression for another moment, then a grin broke through, when Geralt snorted with laughter.

“Heroic-est?” Geralt asked with a grin.

“‘Most heroic’ didn’t fit the metre,” Jaskier said with a shrug. “If that’s your only criticism, I consider that high praise. This shall be my best work yet.” With exaggerated swagger, he came back to Geralt, spreading his arms dramatically. “It’ll be known far and wide. Lords and ladies will demand that this poem be performed at all their courtly functions.”

Geralt shook his head in amusement. Jaskier was absolutely ridiculous. He loved him so much.

He came to stand before Geralt and swept down into a low bow. When he came back up, some snowflakes fell from his head. Geralt couldn’t stop himself. Tenderly, he brushed some of the remaining ones that were stuck in Jaskier’s hair away. A small cloud of mist left Jaskier’s lips and when he looked up at Geralt, there were snowflakes clinging to his eye lashes. The playfulness from before was gone, leaving only softness and something fragile and beautiful. Jaskier’s eyelids fluttered close, but for just a second, Geralt caught something in his eyes. A reflection of movement, where there should be none.

He whirled around, pushing Jaskier back with one hand and reaching for his sword with the other, just in time to see a hideous beast with spidery legs burst through the surface of the lake.

Vaguely, he noticed Roach rearing up with a panicked neigh and dashing away, but he had no time to get her to stop. Behind them, the kikimora scuttled out of the lake, pincers clacking and front legs poised to strike.

Geralt cursed himself as he pushed Jaskier behind him with one hand. He should have noticed the monster before. Fuck, he should have checked the lake for danger before bringing Jaskier here, instead of stupidly trusting that any kikimoras were already in hibernation. He should have known better than to let himself get distracted by hearty laughs and soft looks.

"What the hell is that?" Jaskier's terrified hiss snapped Geralt to attention. The bard’s hands were clutching his cloak tightly. It was all wrong. He should be running, getting to safety, leaving Geralt.

But Jaskier had promised to stay by his side. For the first time, Geralt wished desperately that Jaskier would break his vows. But Jaskier stayed.

"Geralt?"

At the sound of his voice that had gotten shrill with fear, the kikimora's ugly head snapped around. Its beady eyes fixed on Jaskier.

For a single heartbeat it stood frozen. Then, its instincts took over. Its feet scratched on the frozen ground as it darted towards them, toppling the lanterns as it did. The fire sizzled and died, but for the briefest second, the kikimora shrunk back, as it touched the hot metal of the lantern. The moment passed too quickly. Spurned on by the rage of having been burned, the kikimora darted forwards with renewed vigour.

And Jaskier still wasn't fucking leaving Geralt's side.

Geralt pushed him back. His eyes didn't leave the attacking monster, but he could hear a thump as Jaskier's body hit the ground. It took all of his strength not to turn around and make sure he was alright. Gripping his sword tighter, he bolted forwards. As he moved, he formed Igni, heating his blade until it glowed hot red. He swung at the beast with all his might. Had he been on his own, it would have been an easy fight. But he was distracted by worry and the kikimora was furious with starvation from the cold months. It moved with lightning speed, striking Geralt’s wrist with an armoured leg. There was a clang. A jostle went through Geralt’s arm. The pain flared up a second later, but it was nothing compared to the horror twisting his gut, as his grip slipped. In a high arch, his sword was flung from his hand and landed uselessly on the ground. Geralt darted towards it, but the kikimora blocked his way. He barely dodged the next attack and pulled up a Quen shield. The sudden light confused the monster for but a second. It reared up with an enraged screech. Geralt readied himself to cast another sign, when out of the corner of his eyes, there was a flurry of movement. His golden shield flickered, as his attention snapped to Jaskier.

Jaskier, who was running past him, with his arms raised up to protect his face.

“No!” Geralt shouted, a sound so wild that his voice nearly broke. “Get back!”

But Jaskier didn’t listen. Though his face was distorted by fear, he ducked beneath the kikimora’s hacking legs and towards the sword. There was not a heartbeat of hesitation. Jaskier reached for the weapon. As soon as his hand touched the handle, Jaskier let out a pained gasp that shook Geralt to the bones, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to draw his hand back. It took Geralt a second to understand, but when he did, his blood froze. Jaskier wasn’t wearing gloves and unlike Geralt, his skin hadn’t been mutated to withstand heat. And now, Jaskier was holding a scorching hot sword in his bare hands, because Geralt had let himself get disarmed within a single strike.

“Geralt,” he shouted and visibly gathering all his strength, he tossed the sword towards him. Despite his efforts, Jaskier wasn’t strong enough to throw the sword all the way to Geralt. It landed between him and the kikimora, leaving both Geralt and himself weaponless. Geralt could only hope the monster would attack the bigger threat.

Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. Startled by the sudden shout, the kikimora turned. Its pincers clacked and one of its piercing legs shot towards Jaskier.

"No!" the sound ripped from Geralt's throat in pure agony. He flung himself forward, but even as he did so, he knew he would never reach Jaskier in time to push him away.

The world became a blur. The only thing that mattered was Jaskier's terrified expression. There was movement, as Jaskier brought his hands up to protect his face -

No. His hands didn't stop there, they went further up, towards the kikimora that suddenly hissed in pain. Something was glinting in Jaskier's grip. Silver and sharp.

With a start, Geralt recognised the weapon. It was the dagger he had given Jaskier as a wedding gift. To protect him when Geralt couldn't.

Relief and horror battled inside his chest, as he watched Jaskier slash at the kikimora. His movements were frantic and uncoordinated and he was holding the dagger in his non-dominant hand; the other was cradled against his chest. He clearly had no idea how to fight and the first hit stayed singular. It must have been a lucky strike when the beast hadn't expected its prey to fight back. There was no chance that Jaskier would survive for long if he had to keep fighting on his own.

But he didn't have to. That first strike had bought Geralt the time to get close enough to pick up the sword. He leaped onto the kikimora's back. With an ugly snarl, he gripped his sword in both hands and thrust downwards. The kikimora buckled beneath him, as the blade pierced the armoured flesh right behind its head. Geralt fought to keep his balance, twisting the sword.

Finally, the ear piercing screeching stopped and the creature's body collapsed.

It narrowly missed Jaskier, who saved himself with a quick jump backwards.

For a moment, Geralt remained where he was, irrationally afraid that the kikimora would get back up, if he removed his sword. He waited for any sign of life. But the beast only twitched in response to him moving his blade. Before him, Jaskier was panting and clutching his hands close to his chest.

"Geralt?" he asked in a small voice and took a staggering step forward.

And just like that, Geralt could move again. His grip on the sword slackened and he leaped down onto the muddy ground, hastening towards Jaskier. He held his arms wide open and Jaskier didn't waste a single second before flinging himself into Geralt's embrace.

"That was reckless," Geralt mumbled into Jaskier's hair, as his hand came up to cradle the back of his head. "Reckless and stupid and…"

The words dried up in his mouth, when he noticed the shivers that shook Jaskier's frame. Quickly, he unwound the scarf from around his neck and put it back around Jaskier’s.

"We should get back," Geralt said as he pulled away. "You need to get back into the warmth. "

Jaskier nodded mutely. Somehow this silent compliance was the worst of all. Geralt pulled Jaskier’s uninjured hand from his chest and took it, praying that his touch would be grounding for Jaskier. When he turned to where he had left Roach however, his heart dropped once more. Roach hadn’t just staggered away during the fight. She was fully gone. Fled, when Jaskier wouldn’t.

“It’s alright,” Jaskier said weakly, when he saw Geralt’s stony expression. “We’re going to find her. I’m sure she’s alright.”

He sounded so hopeful, so bloody optimistic that Geralt didn’t have the heart to tell him that Roach’s wellbeing for once wasn’t what he was worried about. They had to find Roach, and quickly too, if they wanted to make it back to the keep before the night fully fell. Already, there was barely any daylight left and the snow was no longer simply drifting through the air daintily.

“Let’s go then,” he said and lightly tugged on Jaskier’s hand.

The one good thing about the snow was that it had started to form a thin layer on the ground, making it easy to spot where Roach had run off to. Geralt let go of Jaskier’s hand, as they began setting off after her at a brisk pace and tucked him against his side instead, doing his best to shield him with his body. Geralt bit back a curse, when he followed the tracks and saw them taking a turn - in the opposite direction of the Keep. He sped up his walk, but with every minute that passed, Jaskier’s feet dragged more on the ground, until he staggered more than he walked. Around them, the woods were getting dark quickly, making it impossible for Jaskier to see where he was going. Bitter wind tore at Geralt’s hair and turned the snowflakes into biting needles that pricked his exposed skin painfully. Next to him, Jaskier lowered his head and pulled his shoulders up, trying in vain to protect his face from the biting cold. The skin of his hand was an angry red. Fuck. In his hurry to find Roach, Geralt had forgotten to pick the damn gloves up again. They needed to get to Roach. Now.

Growling in frustration, Geralt picked up Jaskier, cradling him against his chest. Like this, he could move faster, but he couldn’t shield Jaskier from the wind as well as he had before. He hoped he would not come to regret that trade off.

He didn’t know for how long he was marching through the woods - too long, that was for certain - before finally, he heard soft snorting not far ahead. Roach.

Geralt sped up. He nearly missed the cave, hidden by trees and overhanging ivy, but the sound of Roach scraping at the ground with her hooves alerted him. He heaved a sigh of relief, when he entered the cave. It was big enough to allow Roach to find shelter at the entrance, only narrowing towards the back. A quick look revealed an old bedroll, crossbow bolts and dry kindling someone had left here. Likely another witcher, who had equipped this cave with the bare essentials, in case he had to seek shelter again.

Geralt grit his teeth, as outside, the wind howled louder than before. Jaskier stirred weakly in his arms. He had to get him back to the Keep. He wasn’t safe here. But who knew how long it would take them to get back? Geralt couldn’t risk Jaskier’s body cooling down even more by riding with him through the storm.

Deep breaths. Geralt closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the beating of his own heart, as if he was meditating. Shutting his emotions down. Not letting himself get distracted. But beneath the layers of numbness he forced around his heart, he wasn’t strong enough to stop a part of himself to vigilantly listen in on Jaskier’s heartbeat. It was steady and strong as ever. Geralt had known it would be. Jaskier might be cold and hurt, but he had not gotten nearly injured enough to be in immediate danger and he was bundled up as warmly as he could be. Still, Geralt’s hands and breath were shaky, as he carefully placed Jaskier on the ground. It was too cold, too damp. Every part of Geralt screamed in protest, when he let go of Jaskier, but he had to. Just long enough to get a fire started.

Deep breaths. He couldn’t let his mind get clouded by worry and that uncomfortable squirming in his stomach that threatened to take away his ability to act rationally.

As quickly as he could, Geralt put the kindling into a pile and lit it up. Then, he hurried back to Jaskier’s side.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked. His eyes were glassy as he blinked up at him.

“I’m here.” Carefully, Geralt scooped Jaskier back up and pulled him into his lap, so he wouldn’t have to sit on the cold stone floor. “You’re going to be alright. We just have to wait a little, until the snow eases up.” Jaskier shivered and pressed closer against Geralt, who draped his cloak over him as best he could. Jaskier in turn wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle to get even closer to his warmth, but as he pressed his hands against Geralt’s shoulder blades, he drew back with a hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Geralt sat up in alarm.

“Nothing,” Jaskier said too quickly. His smile that clearly was meant to be reassuring looked brittle, with a flash of pain staining it. He must have noticed Geralt’s disbelief, for he added, “It’s just my hand…”

Immediately, Geralt reached for said hand. He cradled it as gently as if holding a butterfly, yet Jaskier still sucked in a sharp breath. Geralt glanced up at him and was relieved when he found no more pain in his expression than there had been before. Jaskier gave him a brittle smile. Carefully, Geralt turned his hand over. His heart dropped.

There, across Jaskier’s fingers and palm were angry red blisters. How could he not have noticed just how badly Jaskier had burned himself?

‘You love me too much to let anything happen to my hands.’ The memory of Jaskier’s words echoed cruelly in his mind.

“We need to get ointment on that,” Geralt said and his voice shook only a little. He was sure no one who didn’t know him in and out would notice. Jaskier’s brows knitted together and Geralt swallowed thickly. “We have some at the infirmary.”

He glanced at the entrance of the cave. At the snow falling steadily still, cast about by the wind that seemed to pick up by the minute. Alone, he might have been able to make it through that weather. But Jaskier’s hand was so cold in his. His teeth were chattering and the brim of his trousers, where they hadn’t been protected by his cloak, were drenched with snow.

Geralt couldn’t risk exposing him to the elements any more before he was properly warmed up. Subconsciously, he shifted closer to Jaskier, offering him a little more of his own body heat.

“Well, at least it’ll be no trouble cooling the burn,” Jaskier, who must have read Geralt’s thoughts, joked with the hint of a smile.

“Ever the optimist,” Geralt replied, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice despite his worry. “One of us has to be. But I don’t think it’s optimism. I just trust you.”

He said it so easily. As if there was no doubt in his mind about it. As if Geralt’s incompetence wasn’t the cause for him getting hurt in the first place.

A warmth spread through Geralt’s chest, flowing into the rest of his body, until he felt his face heating up. Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes.

“We’ll need to at lead bandage your hand,” he said. “And keep you warm.”

Jaskier made an affirmative noise. Geralt looked at Roach, mentally itemising the things he had packed. Naturally, bandages hadn’t been included in his preparation for their trip.

His eyes fell on the red scarf around Jaskier’s neck. Geralt reached for Jaskier’s dagger at his hip and with a harsh movement cut off a long thin stripe of the scarf. It wasn’t ideal, but it had to do. At the very least, it would do the job of warming Jaskier’s hand.

He moved, so he was kneeling opposite Jaskier and could have a better view of what he was doing. He was so focussed on his task of wrapping Jaskier’s hand, that he didn’t notice how strangely quiet Jaskier had gotten, until he realised that his hand was trembling.

Gralt stopped. His eyes snapped up to meet Jaskier’s.

“Are you -”

“Don’t worry,” Jaskier said with a choked laugh. “It’s nothing bad.” Unconvinced, Geralt made a questioning noise.

“I just…” Jaskier lifted his bandaged hand a little, “the red cloth? It reminded me of our wedding day.”

“A joyful memory to add to an already perfect day,” Geralt snarked. All the sarcasm couldn’t hide the bitterness and hurt he felt. Jaskier had been so excited for today. As he had been for his wedding. And Geralt… no. He had to stop that train of thought. They were friends. Jaskier liked him. This marriage might not be what either one of them had imagined, but it still was good. It was good.

Jaskier wasn’t the fragile little lordling Geralt had feared him to be. He was so much stronger than he looked and he would get through this too.

As if to prove Geralt’s thoughts right, a genuine smile stole onto Jaskier’s lips.

“It is.” Swiftly, he leaned in and let his lips brush against Geralt’s cheek. “There. Now it’s just like then.”

His lips felt icy on Geralt’s skin, but they left a hot tingle in their wake, when he pulled away. A lump formed in Geralt’s throat. His hand rose without his permission and he cupped Jaskier’s cheek. With his thumb, he caressed the freezing skin and felt him shiver beneath his touch. “Dance with me.” The words left his lips before he could think about them.

Jaskier blinked at him. A small cloud escaped his mouth, as he gasped lightly.

“What?”

Decades of rejection and fear made Geralt’s courage want to shrivel and hide away. But Jaskier still hadn’t flinched from his touch and would never do so.

“Dance with me,” he repeated slightly louder. “You’re going to freeze if you don’t move. We need to keep you from falling asleep and warm you up.” He got to his feet and held an inviting hand out for Jaskier to take. “And I never gave you that wedding dance.”

Geralt’s heart fluttered nervously in his chest, as Jaskier stared at his hand. Slowly, like the sun pushing through clouds, Jaskier’s lips stretched into a smile and he placed his uninjured hand in Geralt’s, letting him pull him up. Jaskier’s feet must have been well on their way of falling asleep and the cold was already getting to him, for he stumbled into Geralt’s chest with little grace, only catching himself by placing his other hand on Geralt’s shoulder. He kept the touch of his injured hand light, yet it burned into Geralt, as if he was clutching him tightly.

Geralt let the hand not holding Jaskier’s slide down to his waist and hold him close. Jaskier’s face was so near to his. The urge to hold Jaskier close was a flame raging through every vein of his body.

They stood frozen, unmoving.

“I believe I was promised a dance,” Jaskier whispered, his voice barely audible over the howling of the wind and the cackling of the fire.

Geralt could do nothing but nod. He took a step back, pulling Jaskier along and began to awkwardly sway them. The movements would have looked clunky even with a band accompanying them, but without any music at all to give them a guiding rhythm, it must have looked utterly ridiculous. The pathetic attempt of a witcher to give something soft.

But Jaskier was looking up at him, a smile dancing around his lips and in his eyes, and Geralt felt the knot of anxiety unwind in his chest. All would be well. Jaskier was moving and smiling. He would make it through this.

Geralt’s tongue darted out to wet his lips - a nervous tick he must have picked up from Jaskier - and did what he normally only dared to do after drinking with his brothers: He sang.

Or rather, he hummed. It was a clumsy attempt. He had never been musically inclined and the wedding seemed so far away now, he barely remembered the tune the wedding band had played. The only thing he remembered was how important the song was. So he did the best to shape the rumble in his chest into the right notes. Jaskier’s eyes widened and his lips parted into a silent ‘oh.’

Geralt stumbled and faltered, but the rising awe in Jaskier’s expression kept him going and after a moment of silent listening, Jaskier joined in. His humming was much steadier than Geralt’s awkward attempt at singing and Geralt did his best to follow his lead. Then, Jaskier’s humming deviated from the melody Geralt had repeated before. Heat and shame rose in Geralt’s cheeks. He hadn’t realised how badly he had hummed the tune, but then he realised that his own notes weren’t dissonant to his husband’s. Jaskier was harmonising.

Geralt faltered, disguising his misstep as part of the dance and Jaskier followed without hesitation. Geralt swayed them to the side, led his husband through a spin and pulled him back in. Close, so close. His hand wandered from Jaskier’s waist up to rest between his shoulder blades. He could almost imagine feeling the beat of Jaskier’s heart through the thick layers of clothing.

He didn’t notice coming to a standstill, but then Jaskier placed his head on his shoulder and Geralt wouldn’t have been able to move if he had wanted to. He couldn’t let go of Jaskier anymore, not even for the brief moment it would take for him to twirl. Geralt ran his hand up and down Jaskier’s back. When Jaskier’s hand wandered from his shoulder to the nape of his neck to play idly with his hair, Geralt closed his eyes and let his head fall forward to rest it against the crown of Jaskier’s head. A soft sigh ghosted over his skin as he held Jaskier as close as he could.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt didn’t know what to reply, so he remained silent, except for the rumble in his chest that he knew Jaskier found so much joy in. The soft sound of Geralt’s contentedness and the fast beat of Jaskier’s heart were the only sounds around.

Geralt’s brows furrowed. No sound. The wind had stopped howling. His head snapped to the entrance of the cave, where the fire had almost burned down completely. Blinking, he scrutinised the dark world beyond the cave and - it was dark. No more treacherous white was flying through the air, beautiful but deadly. The snowstorm had passed. Geralt left Jaskier’s side to get a better look at the sky. Night had fully fallen and the sky was clear. With a sky like that, it would only get colder, but the stars shone bright, offering comfort.

The sound of Jaskier’s footsteps followed Geralt, and he pressed himself against his side, seeking warmth once again. Geralt laid an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm.

“We can leave,” he said, trying to put as much optimism into his voice as he could. “Do you think you can ride? It’s going to be cold.”

“I can,” Jaskier replied confidently, though Geralt couldn’t help but notice the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he promised.

Jaskier nodded, but trepidation stole itself onto his face.

“I know this mountain is your home,” he began slowly, his injured hand picking at the red cloth, “but are you sure it’s safe to leave in this dark? What if Roach stumbles or slips on the snow? I don’t even know where we are anymore. It all looks so different cast in white…”

“It does,” Geralt agreed. Jaskier’s face fell and his eyes dropped to the ground, as he likely prepared himself for a night of freezing in the cave after all.

“But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed.” Geralt cupped his chin and tentatively tilted his face back up, first to meet his eyes and then farther up still. “Do you see it?”

“What?” Jaskier asked automatically as he squinted up into the night sky. Geralt could see the moment he realised what Geralt was talking about. “Oh.” His eyes softened. “There it is. Our secret constellation.”

“We’ll follow it home,” Geralt said, and something melted in his chest, when Jaskier echoed tenderly, “Home.”

The ride back to the Keep wasn’t a pleasant one. Geralt did his best to shield Jaskier against the cold with his body and distract him from the pain in his hand by recounting any tales that came to mind. More than once did he feel Jaskier go limp, as sleep threatened to take him into its embrace and Geralt felt a pang of guilt each time he had to jostle him awake again.

“Soon,” he would whisper. “We’ll be there soon. Stay awake for me a little longer.” “Alright,” Jaskier would mumble, “for you.”

Then, without fail, Jaskier would sit up straighter and his head would tilt up - his eyes fixed on their constellation. The stars above the path leading them home.

By the time Kaer Morhen’s gates came into view, Jaskier’s head had found its home against Geralt’s chest and his eyes were drooping again. Still, he fought valiantly to keep his promise and stay awake.

Geralt spurned Roach on one last time. When they finally passed the gate, it felt as if a heavy stone sat in his chest was crumbling to dust. They had made it. Jaskier was truly safe again.

Geralt hurried to put Roach in her box in the stables and despite Jaskier’s protests that he could walk, he picked him up and carried him into the Keep. He only took a quick detour to get the ointment to treat burns from the infirmary and apply it to Jaskier’s palm, before rebandaging it. Then, he picked up Jaskier again. His mind was filled with images of holding Jaskier close at night, safe and sound in his arms. Those images were the only thing giving him the strength to keep going and climb the stairs to their room.

Perhaps it was the fact that Geralt had accompanied Jaskier to his room so many times that it felt like second nature at this point, or maybe he simply let himself be lulled to inattention by the familiar home-scent of Jaskier; whatever it was, it made Geralt forget with every step he took, that it was Jaskier’s room and not theirs until he got fully lost in his comforting fantasy. It was only when he pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid eyes on the room that held no trace of Geralt ever having spent a single night here, that the realisation crashed into him like a bucket of ice water. This wasn’t theirs. He had no place in Jaskier’s bed.

His instinct told him to drop Jaskier off quickly and retreat, but he forced his body to move gently, slowly, as he undressed Jaskier and helped him put on dry clothes to sleep in. Then, he placed Jaskier on the bed and pulled the blankets over him and snuffed out the candles he had lit upon entering.

“Now you can sleep,” he whispered into the darkness of the room, running his hand soothingly over Jaskier’s head.

Jaskier blinked up at him and narrowed his eyes. Geralt reckoned he tried and failed to make out more than Geralt’s general shape in the dark. “Geralt?” he asked quietly and reached out blindly.

Geralt caught his hand mid-air and clinging to the last remnants of that foolish inattentiveness that had made him forget that he wouldn’t spend the night holding his husband close, he pressed a kiss against his palm.

“You’re safe.” He rubbed a small circle into the back of Jaskier’s hand with his thumb. “Goodnight, Jaskier.” There was a long pause, in which Geralt started to believe that maybe Jaskier had fallen asleep already, before Jaskier replied, “Goodnight.”

With that, he pulled his hand from Geralt’s grasp and turned away, pulling the blanket so high up that Geralt could barely see his face anymore. He hesitated, taking in the sight of Jaskier snuggled up warm and cosy and safe - and so clearly dismissive of him - one last time. Then, he turned around, pulling the door close as quietly as he could. The walk back to his own room had never felt that long, lonely and cold.

Jaskier is safe, he repeated over and over in his mind, nothing else matters.

Only, it did. It fucking mattered, because Jaskier had lit lanterns around a lake. Because he had caught snowflakes with his tongue and laughed as though nothing in the world could make him happier than sharing that moment with Geralt. Because Geralt’s cheek still tingled where Jaskier had kissed it and because Geralt wished he’d had the courage to dance with Jaskier during their wedding. It mattered, because Geralt wore a bracelet Jaskier had made for him.

It mattered, because with every fibre of his being, Geralt loved Jaskier.

And it mattered, because when he entered his room, it was cold and empty.

His movements felt wooden and reluctant, as he made himself walk over to his bed and put on his sleeping clothes. He let himself fall onto the bed heavily but even as he sat down and finally rested his feet, he knew his mind and heart would know no rest that night. With a deep sigh, he slumped forward, put his elbows on his knees and burrowed his hands in his hair. He closed his eyes, but only images of the day, of dancing and laughing and Jaskier trusting him so wholly, flashed through the darkness. When he opened his eyes again, they landed on the parchment that had been laying on his nightstand for the past months. Ever since he had gotten word of the engagement. Despite knowing exactly what he would find, he reached for the parchment and looked at it. Jaskier’s smiling face looked back at him. Geralt’s heart clenched painfully, as he traced the laughter lines around the drawing’s eyes with a gentle finger. In the past months, he had come to know those lines perhaps more intimately than anyone else. Certainly more than he had ever imagined he would. He knew how Jaskier sounded when he laughed, how he felt leaning into Geralt or holding onto him because he had to physically share his joy, how he looked so utterly radiant with his lips stretched wide and his head thrown back.

He knew that no painting in the world, no matter how masterfully done, could ever come close to the real thing. Geralt could look at this drawing before going to sleep however many times he wished - it would make no difference. It was no substitute for holding Jaskier in his arms.

He didn’t think. For once, maybe his mind and his heart would have told him to do the same thing anyway. Without wasting another moment, Geralt got up and crossed his room. It was stupid. If there was any mercy, Jaskier would already be deep within the realm of dreams by now. Yet, Geralt didn’t stop. He had to go see him. He had to tell him. Jaskier deserved that much. He deserved to know that he was loved.

Geralt was just stepping out of the door, when something came crashing right into him and tumbled back with an indignant little squeak. A very familiar sound.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, perplexed, all thoughts of his intentions wiped away by the unexpected sight of Jaskier standing in his doorway. “Geralt!”

“What are you doing out of bed?” Geralt took Jaskier’s shoulders gently and looked him over intently for any signs of hurt or fright. “Did you have a nightmare? Is there anything you need?”

“No - that is, yes. Actually. There is something.” Jaskier started fidgeting with his bandage. “Could I maybe come in?”

“Of course.” Geralt took a step to the side and Jaskier slipped into his room. Geralt occupied himself with lighting some candles so Jaskier could see, but in truth, he simply needed the time to get his racing heart back under control. When he finally felt ready to face Jaskier again, he found him looking at the portrait of himself, a strange expression on his face.

“Ah,” Geralt said awkwardly, “That…came with the letter your parents sent us. To arrange the engagement.”

Jaskier’s lips quirked up a little and he slung his arms around himself. Geralt desperately wanted to wrap his own arms around him, but if Jaskier had sought him out after the day he just had, he must be truly distressed and Geralt wasn’t sure how to act.

“I never got a picture of you,” Jaskier said.

“Oh.” He swallowed. “So, the first time you learned what I looked like was…”

“Just before our wedding. Yes.”

“That’s…” Geralt trailed off, not sure how to end the sentence. A part of him that clung to learned behaviours wanted to apologise, but a different part saw the warmth of affection in Jaskier’s eyes.

He cleared his throat. “What is it you need?”

Jaskier’s brows shot up and his mouth opened into a little ‘oh’ as if he had forgotten the purpose of his seeking Geralt out. “I - I suppose I just didn’t want to be alone.” Jaskier furrowed his brows. “No, that’s not it. I wanted to be with you. For tonight. If that’s alright.”

“It is,” Geralt blurted out immediately and his heart jumped, when that elicited an actual smile from Jaskier. “I want to have you with me tonight too.”

He wanted to have him by his side every night and every day for the rest of his life. His entire being longed to share his bed, his Path, his world with Jaskier. The flutter in his chest got stronger, when Jaskier pulled back the furs on Geralt’s bed to get in. It was so perfect. So much like what Geralt wished for, what he had selfishly dreamed of in the solace of his lonely nights.

A sudden pang of guilt shot through him and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Wait. There’s something you should know first.”

Jaskier dropped the fur. “What is it?”

“I -” Geralt’s throat went dry. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and it was as if he had forgotten every word he had ever known. How could he tell his husband he loved him? How, when longing and fear had been at war inside him for so long that it felt impossible to end the fight now.

But Jaskier had come to him. Over and over he had chosen him. It was time Geralt did the same.

“I never made my wedding vows. To love and cherish you,” Geralt said finally, the words feeling inadequate and rough, “But I made you another promise. To tell you if I ever did fall in love. And I am. In love. It’s terrifying and - and beautiful and I don’t think I could fight it if I wanted to. I don’t want to. Not anymore.”

A guarded expression crossed Jaskier’s face, but beneath it, Geralt thought he could see hope. He clung to that slither of hope with the desperation of a drowning man. With the faith of a man in love.

“Do I have your permission, Jaskier?” He stepped closer, slowly at first, then with more confidence, when Jaskier gravitated towards him as well. Geralt took Jaskier’s uninjured hand and pressed it against his chest, right above his heart that beat to the rhythm of Jaskier’s song. “Do I have your permission to love you?”

“Geralt -” Jaskier broke off, his voice too choked to speak.

“You don’t have to love me back. I - it would be enough to love you.”

“No,” Jaskier said firmly.

Something broke inside Geralt and a gaping whole opened up where his heart had just beaten with hope. He averted his eyes and pressed his lips together. He gave Jaskier a court nod, as he took a step back. But Jaskier refused to let go.

“No, that would not be enough,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt back in. “Because I love you, Geralt. I love you.”

“You do?” Geralt’s eyes widened. “I - I had hoped, but I didn’t think -”

“Stop thinking then,” Jaskier interrupted him. “I think we’ve done far too much of that. It didn’t do us any good.”

Geralt’s lips tilted up. “It didn’t.” He twisted his hand to weave his fingers with Jaskier’s, linking them together. It felt right. So right to finally do this and have Jaskier know what it meant.

“Jaskier,” he asked tentatively. “I know I don’t know how to do this right, but…may I court you?”

“What?” A startled laugh tumbled from Jaskier’s lips.

“May I court you?” Geralt repeated, looking Jaskier in the eyes and doing his best to show his sincerity.

“Geralt, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’re already married.”

“I know,” Geralt said, feeling the corners of his mouth quirk up in response to Jaskier’s laugh. “Gods, believe me I know. But what we have isn’t a real marriage. I want to be with you for real. I don’t want to hold you and always know that we are only married on paper. We didn’t say our vows, I refused to dance with you, we didn’t kiss. You deserve better. You deserve a real wedding. This is not whatI want or what you deserve. I don’t just want a marriage based on politics and without the promise of…”

“Devotion?” Jaskier tilted his head to the side and gave Geralt’s hands a squeeze. “I can make you that promise right now, if you want. I gave it to you so many times over and you didn’t even notice.”

“I noticed,” Geralt said. “I just…”

“I know.” Jaskier looked down at their joined hands. “Me too.” “I want to do this right,” Geralt said. “I wasted so much time going about this the wrong way. You deserve to be courted. You deserve - lights and flowers and…and…”

“A husband who loves me?” Jaskier offered. “And whom I love? Because I believe I already have that.”

“I want to give more to you. I don’t want to rush this. Being with me isn’t easy. The Path is harsh and life with me will be hard. I want you to know this - really know this. Give me a year of courting you, of showing you my life, before you decide if you want it to be your life as well.”

Jaskier looked at him for a long time. “I don’t think my opinion will change, but yes.” A choked sound escaped his lips, as they stretched into a brilliant smile. “Yes, I want to be courted by you. I want to be with you in whichever way you want.”

He didn’t wait for Geralt’s reply, simply flinging himself into his arms. Geralt held him tightly, so tightly. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest and he couldn’t have stopped himself from smiling wide as a fool, if he had wanted to. Maybe he was a fool. But he was a fool in love, with the one who held his affections in his arms.

Jaskier’s slim frame shook and Geralt worried that he was sobbing, until he recognised the muffled sounds against his chest as laughter. He hummed questioningly, making Jaskier giggle only more.

“So, does this mean we should get a divorce?” Jaskier asked, pulling away just enough to be able to look at Geralt. “So we can court again?” He jabbed a finger at Geralt’s chest. “Because if so, then I change my mind. I refuse to be divorced. I quite like being your husband.”

Geralt snorted. “I quite like it too. And I don’t think our families would be too happy about having their contract nullified.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, pulling a face. “Bureaucracy. What a romantic topic to bring up. So, no divorce then? We just continue as we have but without all the -” he waved his hand through the air, “not-talking-about-feelings?”

“Sounds perfect.” Geralt paused. “Maybe we could also change the sleeping arrangements?”

“Please!”

Without waiting another second, Geralt scooped Jaskier up. His heart skipped a beat, when Jaskier let out a delighted little squeal and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck to steady himself.

“Is this really necessary?” Jaskier said in between giggles. “The bed is right there. I could have walked three steps.” “It is,” Geralt said firmly, something soft coiling in his stomach. “Maybe I just like holding you close.”

“How convenient then, that I just so happen to like being held by you.” One of Jaskier’s hands left Geralt’s neck to cup his cheek instead. “Something tells me that we could make great husbands.”

“I think you might be right. I’d love to find out what we are like being husbands with purpose.”

“So do I.”

“But courting first.”

Jaskier heaved a heavy sigh, but gave Geralt a fond look. Geralt was loath to part from Jaskier for even a heartbeat, so as soon as he laid him down on the bed, he got in right next to him and put an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. They fit perfectly together. He felt the rest of the stress of the past months fall away as he melted against Jaskier. His husband. The man he loved and would court. Jaskier, in turn snuggled as close to Geralt as possible, his hand tracing random patterns on his chest.

“There’s one more thing I want to change,” Geralt whispered.

“Hm?”

“I know this should probably not happen before the courting comes to an end but…can I kiss you?”

“Geralt!” Jaskier gasped in mock-affront, his eyes crinkling at the sides, as he failed to hold in his laughter. “Are you seriously asking me - your lawfully wedded husband! - to share a bed with you and kiss you? Unchaperoned? How scandalous!”

Geralt rolled his eyes fondly at Jaskier’s antics. “Is that a ‘yes’, then?”

Jaskier’s giggles quieted down and an expression of pure softness and open love replaced the amusement.

“It’s a yes,” he whispered back and leaned forwards, closing the space between them. The kiss was chaste and over quickly, yet Geralt could not imagine a more perfect kiss.

Except, of course, as he drifted off to sleep with Jaskier curled up against him, his mind was already wandering to the future. To flowers and song and, if he was lucky - and something told him that for once, he would be - another kiss from his husband on their second wedding.

—

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