#geralt gets to be the little spoon

[bluedillylee]

The devil you know

“What would be helpful then?” Geralt asks, or growls, really, still set on getting back to his rest as soon as possible.

“Well,” Jaskier clicks his tongue, taking a few moments, maybe for suspense’s sake, before answering. “You could let me sleep with you.”

Image description: Geralt and Jaskier are lying on a bedroll spooning. Geralt is the little spoon and is still awake with a confused expression on his face. Jaskier is asleep with one arm curled around Geralt.

#the witcher #witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #fanart for fanfic #the devil you know

[shy-urban-hobbit]

"Lambert, you'd tell me if I'd done something to offend Aiden wouldn't you?"

"Tell you, yell at you, throw you in the nearest snow bank. All good options. Ask him yourself though."

"I did." Jaskier replied, throwing himself down on the low stone wall Lambert was in the process of trying to repair. "He says not, but I'm worried he's just saying that to try and keep the peace."

"Trust me Bard. Aiden may be a little more tactful than some of us here with what comes out of his mouth, but he definitely lets you know if you've pissed him off."

"Then why does he keep looking at me oddly?"

Lambert downed tools and turned to look at Jaskier, giving up on getting any work done for the time being, "Odd how?"

"Whenever I go to talk to him or start playing, he looks at me like..." Jaskier squinted, the expression making him look slightly haughty and Lambert had a feeling he suddenly understood the confusion.

"I don't want to possibly make it worse by bringing it up with him. I mean, how many times has the phrase you're looking at me funny not ended in a fight? I'm trying not to take it personally, but literally the only time people look at me like that is when I've pissed them off or I've got something on my face."

"You do. But that's not what that look's for." Lambert smirked at the squawk Jaskier let out as he started wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"Relax, Jaskier." Lambert said mussing the others hair roughly, "Means the exact opposite with Cats. Means he likes you. Probably doesn't even realise he's doing it."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, confused the hell out of me too. The amount of times I thought he was looking to start shit in the beginning. Next time, do it right back."

"Wha-"

"Just, trust me alright. Now, piss off so I can finish this."

Lambert entered the hall just as the others were settling down to eat. He was sore all over but at least he could now tell Vesemir that particular section of wall was done (and to fuck off if he was expecting him to start another tomorrow. Let Eskel do some of the heavy lifting).

He took his usual place opposite Aiden, Jaskier on the Cats right and chattering about something Lambert probably had no interest in but seemed to have grabbed Aiden's attention. The Bard met Lambert's eyes briefly before squinting his own as Aiden contributed something to the conversation. The result was instant. Aiden immediately shuffled closer to Jaskier so they were pressed shoulder to shoulder. Grabbing a couple of bread rolls and placing them on the table between them.

Lambert turned his attention to his stew unconcerned, not begrudging his partner a new friend. He knew Aiden's affections for him weren't in danger of wandering and neither were Jaskier's for Geralt.

He raised his spoon in salute when Jaskier mouthed "Thanks" at him. Ignoring Geralt's own perplexed expression from next to him. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell his brother that, for all his opinions on Aiden's school, he'd unknowingly been doing 'love blinks' at him ever since the Cat's first year staying with them.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert #witcher jaskier #jaskier #jaskier aiden friendship

[imagineredwood]

hiii can u do HC for Miguel dealing with a bratty reader when he's just trying to work?

Wasn't sure if you wanted this to be SFW or NSFW so I did two 💗 They can be read separately or read consecutively if you want to read the NSFW one as well. The NSFW one could be read as like a part 2 of the first

SFW

He had told you to hang on

That as soon as he was finished signing these documents, you would have his undivided attention

But that hadn't worked for you

You had missed him all-day

All alone in the big mansion by yourself

Now he was finally home

And ignoring you :(

He'd been sympathetic at first

Telling you that he was sorry and he would make it up to you

But you had decided that being a brat would get you what you wanted

And that was exactly what you had done

Barging into his office to offer him a bite of your yogurt

He'd taken the spoonful you had offered him and then sent you out

Thinking that'd be the end

Foolishly

You'd returned merely 4 minutes later, asking him which shoes he thought you should order

He'd picked the cream ones and sent you on your way again

And once again you'd returned, asking him to peel and orange for you

And he'd told you to leave again

Yet here you were, once more, sitting on the side of his desk, eyes burning holes into him as you waited for him to acknowledge you

NSFW

He told you to wait

That he was busy with this paperwork and that as soon as he was done, he would give you attention

That if you were good, and patient, he would make it worth the wait

Yet here you were

Perched atop his desk

Legs swinging

Your bare foot coming up higher to press at his thigh sometimes

Pressing at his crotch others

Your hands resting on the desk on either side of you

Your pussy bare and begging for attention from under your skirt

He wasn't sure if you had discarded your panties somewhere along the way

Or if you had entered his office with them already gone

But he was ignoring you, or trying his best anyway

Eyes stuck on the papers in front of him

Ignoring you and your pouty mouth and lonely pussy

Ignoring the sporadic whines of "Miguelllllll" that left your mouth every few seconds

He remained stoic

Not wanting to encourage your brattiness

But you weren't giving up so easily

Hopping off his desk with a huff and then coming to stand beside him

Hand on his shoulder playing with the collar of his shirt

Nail 'accidentally' scratching lightly at the side of his neck with a falsly innocent "oops"

Your knee pushed and prodded against his, your voice whiny as you spoke

"Let me sit in your lap at least. I won't bother you. I swear."

That was bullshit

And you both knew it

But Miguel was going to make you regret pushing him

So he sat back slightly and let you climb into his lap, chuckling as he watched you settle into his chest, thinking you had won

His hand reached into the drawer to his right and fished out the vibrator

Your back straightening as you heard it switch on

He was nestling it between the two of you then, pressing it firmly against your bare cunt

Sucking his teeth at you as you whined

"You wanted to be a little fucking brat and get attention right? Now you have it. So you're going to shut up and sit there until I'm done."

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

#mayans mc #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #brat!reader #headcannons

[samstree]

Jaskier hates sweet things, and Geralt loves them. It’s why they work well together.

“It’s why we work well together!” Jaskier exclaims, pushing his dessert plate towards Geralt. He’s only taken one spoonful of the cherry pie, made a face and declared it too sweet for his taste. “I hate sweets, and you love them—don’t try to deny me, dear. I’ve seen the way you look at the pastry stands when no one is watching.”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s cherry pie is long gone, and his mouth waters at the sight of Jaskier’s piece. “It’s yours. You paid for it.”

“Actually, my performance paid for both of our dinners.” Jaskier winks. “But as you can see, it’s become a burden for me, as I cannot stand anything with so much as a layer of frosting.”

Geralt is not, and that is more than enough. “I don’t need a second dessert, Jask,” he says. “Witchers can live on very little food.”

“But you’d be doing me a favor.” Jaskier bats his eyelashes. “Please? My gorgeous witcher, my brave champion, my most generous lover—”

“Fine,” Geralt interrupts, taking up his spoon. “Don’t finish the thought.”

Jaskier giggles, sitting back to watch Geralt eat. “It’s a saying even. They say a couple only works if one likes the food the other hates. This way, if it comes up on the dinner table, one can finish it for the other.”

It’s a cheeky saying, one that is definitely just been invented by Jaskier himself.

The pie is good though. The cherries add a hint of tartness to the cream frosting. Geralt chews slowly, letting the sweetness pop in his mouth. He closes his eyes with the last bite, and only opens them slowly afterward.

“Is it good?”

Jaskier watches Geralt with a quiet smile, his hand reaching forward on the table, his palm facing up. Geralt takes it and squeezes gently.

“It’s…sweet,” he answers, belly full and content.

It seems to satisfy Jaskier enough to press a tiny kiss on Geralt’s scarred knuckles.

“See?” Jaskier preens. “We work well together.”

☆ 

For some reason, Jaskier keeps buying sweets for himself.

The two lemon cakes are freshly baked, wrapped in paper and drizzled with honey, the warm aroma wafting through the busy marketplace. It reminds Geralt of a snowy day at Kaer Morhen, with the fireplace burning bright.

Jaskier holds them to his nose and takes a sniff, only to shove them into Geralt’s hands.

“Too sweet,” Jaskier says, pouting. “Finish them for me?”

Geralt sighs. “You can just not buy them.”

“Thought I wanted one, and now I don’t.” Jaskier shrugs. “Anyway, it’s good you’re here, so you can take care of them for me, dear. Meet me later?”

With that, Jaskier disappears into the crowd, leaving Geralt with the two cakes. They do look good, so he takes a bite, and then another.

He wouldn’t normally spend coin on luxuries such as fancy cakes, and whatever food he does purchase would be rationed carefully. Being on the road with a human calls for caution, as Jaskier is not nearly as sturdy as a witcher when it comes to on-and-off meals. Geralt always saves extra for him.

Which makes sweets the only indulgence he has. It’s okay. Jaskier hates sweet things so much he’d never eat them anyway.

The honey is sticky on Geralt’s fingers. He makes sure to lick the last of it clean.

☆   

Lettenhove bustles with the laughter of children. Every year they come back, there seem to be a dozen more of them. The extended family welcomes them with warm hugs, with Jaskier’s parents giving the tightest one.

Jaskier looks exhausted from traveling, but as soon as his nieces and nephews hug him on the leg, he seems to melt into a puddle all over again. The children drag him off to play games in the courtyard, and he can never say no to that.

Geralt can only shake his head and head straight to the kitchen. Jaskier skipped lunch to get here sooner, and the kids will soon run him ragged, so naturally, Geralt needs to fetch him something solid for later.

He encounters more cousins and uncles on the way, who all pat him on the back warmly. It’s still unreal to think the Pankratzes have just accepted Geralt as a member of the family. Even years later, it still takes a moment to wrap his head around the fact.

The smell of freshly baked biscuits comes from the kitchen, rich with caramel and butter.

“Oh, Geralt!” Mira, Jaskier’s older sister exclaims when she finds him in the doorway, her eyes as blue as Jaskier’s, full of a big smile. “How was your travel? Good weather, I hope?”

“Good,” Geralt nods. “The road was easy. Jaskier was missing you, so we didn’t rest today.”

“Well, we missed him too, and you, of course.” Mira always manages to soften Geralt, putting him at ease. “You both must be so hungry. All that witchering must be hard, you look much thinner, Geralt. I’m sure it’s the same with Julian. It’s good timing! The biscuits are just done. I made his favorite, made it extra sweet with caramel just for our Julian.”

Geralt blinks, confused. “For who?”

“Who else has the biggest sweet tooth in Lettenhove? Of course it’s my baby brother, your Jaskier.” Mira turns to put the biscuits into a plate, amused by fond memories. “He used to sneak into the kitchen at night just for the candied fruits we keep for the holidays. It’s embarrassing how long he kept it up, even right before we sent him off to university.”

In the distance, Geralt can hear Jaskier’s voice, playing with the children and laughing loudly.

Geralt takes the plate from Mira, and stares for a moment.

☆  

The biscuits, as it turns out, are decimated instantly by the children.

Only crumbs are left on the plate by the time Jaskier walks up behind the kids, his cheeks flushed and hair a mess.

“How’s the family treating you, dear?” Jaskier asks, equal parts amused and sympathetic. “Not overwhelmed by them? I have to apologize if you are. The Pankcratzes are an overwhelming people. It just can’t be helped, as you see.” He spread his arms dramatically, gesturing to the kids running around behind him, with biscuit crumbs on their chins. “But we do try to overwhelm you with love!”

“Yes,” Geralt muses quietly, a familiar mushy feeling spreading through his chest. “That you do, Jaskier.”

Geralt isn’t sure what expression he’s making, but it must be worrying enough. Jaskier steps closer with a serious face.

“What is it?” A frown creeps up on Jaskier’s brow. “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Geralt holds the empty plate tightly, shaking his head. “Mira knew this would happen and saved a few biscuits in the kitchen. They are made extra sweet, with caramel.”

Something flickers in Jaskier’s eyes. It’s subtle, barely there, a flash of excitement that appears out of instinct but is suppressed quickly.

It’s something Geralt should have seen long ago.

Jaskier, he realizes, is a sweet tooth.

Has been this whole time.

“It sounds lovely.” Jaskier nudges Geralt on the elbow. “Do you want to go and try it? Go then! Mira must be dying to feed you after seeing you’ve gotten thin, and—oh, Geralt, what are you doing?”

Within a heartbeat, Geralt has taken Jaskier into his arm, kissing him passionately. It’s awkward with him still holding the plate, and Jaskier’s youngest niece, Issy, makes a disgusted noise, but Geralt can’t find it in his heart to care.

He kisses Jaskier until the bard has to pull away with a flustered smile, his hands holding onto Geralt’s shoulder for balance. Jaskier’s cheeks have gone wonderfully red, his eyes shining with love.

“What, um,” Jaskier clears his throat. “What was that for? Not that I’d ever complain.”

Geralt stares into those cornflower blue eyes he’s known for years, and finds a new way to fall in love all over again. “I got a little…” he answers, exhaling deeply, “overwhelmed.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “In a good way?”

“Very.” Geralt kisses Jaskier’s nose one last time before letting him go. “Do you want to come with me? Try Mira’s biscuits. Just this once. Maybe you’ll like it.”

“But I don’t—”

“Please?” Geralt looks at Jaskier pleadingly. He knows Jaskier won’t say no to that look. “For me?”

Jaskier beams, his grin spreading impossibly wide, looking stupidly happy.

“Alright,” Jaskier agrees chirpily, taking Geralt’s arm. “You know I’d do anything for you, but you are being unreasonably amiable today. What’s gotten into you?”

Geralt lets Jaskier wraps himself around his side as they return to the kitchen, the rich scent of caramel filling his lungs once again. It seeps into his core, indistinguishable from the ever-growing affection he feels for Jaskier.

“Just,” Geralt says finally, voice hushed like it’s a secret, “I find you sweet, is all. The sweetest.”

Luckily, Geralt loves sweet things.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #fluff #established relationship #my spirit is hardened and yet my fic is soft #it's a problem really

[inanoldhousewrites]

(you'll never) guess who's coming to dinner

It was clear as soon as Geralt walked in the door that something was bothering Jaskier. When he gave a kiss to his wife, Yennefer kissed back, but when he kissed the top of Jaskier’s head walking past, Jaskier leaned into it, but didn’t say anything. Quite the change from his usual response of dramatically demanding more. Geralt raised his eyebrow at Yennefer in question, but she just shook her head and shrugged.

Dinner was stilted. Jaskier was clearly distracted, but didn’t want to bring up whatever was bothering him. As soon as dinner was cleared away, however, Jaskier made a pass at them. It was not uncommon for one of them to work out their feelings through a round (or more) of vigorous sex, so Geralt and Yennefer followed him to the bedroom.

It was only after they’re sated and snuggling that Jaskier brought up what was on his mind.

“I know you don’t mind me sleeping with other people,” he begins, and Geralt tries not to tense because that was not the direction he expected. “But would you be okay if I maybe wanted to date someone?”

“Are you getting serious about Vespula?” Yennefer asked. “I thought you were currently off again.”

“No, it is. It’s not Vespula. I… met someone.”

“Hmm,” Geralt encouraged.

“He’s, well, he’s different. I’ve never met anyone like him, and I really like him.” Jaskier looked strangely vulnerable between them, nervous as he thought about his feelings for this other man. Geralt, as always, wanted to give him everything.

“Well, ask him out and when you feel like he’s ready, invite him to dinner so we can meet him,” Geralt told him, and that was that.

The next day, Jasker texted them ‘He said yes! Date tomorrow ❤️’ and from then on they heard about nothing but Jaskier’s new boyfriend.

“Raddy has the best taste in wine.”

“Raddy looks so good in furs.”

And once, looking particularly rumpled as he came back to their apartment after a date, hickies showing under his collar, “Raddy loves my new song.”

It’s just under two weeks from their first date that Jaskier finally tells them “Raddy is eager to meet you, so I invited him to dinner tomorrow night.”

Yennefer was pulling dinner out of the oven while Geralt set the table, so she had her back to the door when Jaskier walked in with his guest. “We’re here! I’m so excited for you to meet!” As she closed the oven door, she heard Geralt make a noise of surprise and shock. Curious, she turned to see for herself and her jaw dropped when she recognized Jaskier’s guest.

After he quickly introduced everyone, Yennefer linked her arm around Jaskier’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you excuse us for a moment?” She tugged Jaskier into the bedroom, leaving Jaskier’s two boyfriends making awkward and stilted conversation in the kitchen.

“Isn’t he great?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Yennefer answered, as calmly as she can, “he’s really something. But tell me, Jaskier, in the past two weeks, you’ve called him your spoon, a knife, the only music critic worth listening to, and even your ‘little love rat.’ So I ask you: why did I have to wait until he’s standing in my kitchen to find out that you are dating the crown prince of Redania?”

#the witcher #radskier #jaskovid #jaskier x radovid #geraskefer #jaskier #radovid #yennefer #geralt of rivia #modern au #will crosspost to AO3 whenever it's up again

[mjolnir-76]

Geralt Of Rivia X Male!Elf!Reader

genre: fluff, comfort

words: 822

summary: Geralt comforts you after you catch sight of a new scar, leading to you braiding his hair as promised and falling asleep in each others arms

after some decision, you, geralt and jaskier arrive at kaer morhen for the winter. you and geralt share a room and share a lovely night together. you both hop out of the bath after relaxing by the fire, drying yourselves off. you walk infront of the mirror, shorts hanging low on your hips and you pull a shirt over your head when you pause, seeing the protruding scar on your abdomen. you remove your shirt from just over your head, dropping it softly to the ground. geralt glances over at the noise, tugging on his own shirt. your fingers gently feel the bumpy skin, eyes contorting in disgust. you love to trace geralts scars, hear every story but on yourself, you felt it made you look gross, undesirable. like it ruined your smooth skin.

"what are you doing?" his deep voice enters your ears. it brings you out of your thoughts and you quickly grab your shirt from the floor, "doesn't matter" you say, unravelling your shirt when geralt takes it off of you, throwing it on the bed behind you. he grabs your bare waist, pulling you closer, his thumb stroking over the scar. "i know what you're thinking, i've spent many a night thinking the same" he murmurs, spinning you around softly to face the mirror again. he kisses your shoulder before he takes off his shirt again. you sigh as you know what he's doing, he points to one of his scars in the same place as yours, "look, we're matching" he says. "yours are just.. different i don't know" you say, finding it difficult to put your thoughts into words. "but they're not. the longer we spend together getting into fights, they'll build up. and then you'll have stories after stories for each one every time i trace them. they won't look out of place, they'll be your trophy" he says, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling your back and kissing at you neck and shoulder.

"you know nothing can ruin you in my eyes, it only gives you more depth. makes you more beautiful, if that's possible" he says with a smile. he gently sways you and you lean your head back against his chest to which he rests his chin on your slightly damp hair. "i love you so much" is all you mumble, revelling in the warmth of your human heater. he kisses your head, "i love you more" he replies and you twist in his grasp, wrapping your arms around his upper abdomen. "nooo" you murmur tiredly into his pec that your cheek rests on. he wraps his arms around your shoulders, one hand softly stroking your head. he laughs quietly, "tired darling?" he asks and you pull back from his arms, "not too tired to do your hair like you promised" you smile up at him as he hopes you forgot about what he promised. "fine, be quick about it alright" he says and you peck his lips before moving onto the bed. your hop on and rest against the headboard, patting the space between your legs.

he smiles slightly and crawls onto the bed, settling comfortably between your legs. he wouldn't admit it but he loves being in your arms. he's big spoon to anyone who asks, but you know he likes to be held. you grab a brush from the side and gently drag it through his now dry hair. you smile at how soft it is, putting the brush down and running your fingers through it. geralt groans, eyes closed, fully relaxed. you can tell he's close to drifting off but he's actively fighting it to stay in the moment. your fingers gently start to weave together sections of hair skilfully, your routine of doing your own hair every morning coming through. geralt wasn't aware of how much this meant to you. as an elf, braided hair had a lot of meaning and symbolism, it was a craft your mother had taught you when you were young. little did you know geralt was fully aware, it's the only reason he let you do it.

after feeling your gentle hands massage his scalp he may let you do it more often. you normally wore braids in your hair and you mirrored a couple of styles you usually had in his, showing your connection. you tie ribbon after ribbon, weaving together braids and hair in intricate patterns. he just has so much hair, it's incredibly relaxing for both parties. you finish the last braid, smoothing down his hair and kissing the top of his head and wrapping your arms around his upper body. he slowly shifts, turning around to face you, "lay down love, let's get some sleep" you nod and geralt lifts his body up on his arms, letting you slide down until your head meets the pillows. geralt moves to lay beside you but you pull him up instead to lay on your chest, still between your legs. he smiles and let's you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his ear to your chest. your heartbeat lulls him into sleep aswell as your fingers still sifting through his now braided hair. his warmth and weight are so comforting, you never want to leave this moment.

#geralt x y/n #geralt x you #tv show geralt #the witcher games #geralt fanfic #geralt fluff #original character #geralt x reader #geralt x male reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #henry cavil x male reader #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavil #henry cavil fanfic

[eggcompany]

Jaskier and Mr.-Zero-Fucking-Body-Fat

Jaskier woke up in a mood. A bad kinda mood. A self hating mood. Thank goodness he has an awesome boyfriend.

Geralt was coming back to the apartment when Jaskier was getting up. Geralt had gone on a morning run and grabbed donuts on his way back. When he walked into the bedroom to get a shower he saw his boyfriend standing in front of their mirror. Shirtless and frowning as he grabbed at his stomach. Jaskier had been up for a little while now. He woke up in a mood.

He hadn’t gotten dressed yet. He was still wearing what he sleeps in, a pair of soft cotton short shorts. He just stood staring at himself.

“Fat. Ugly. Hairy. Gross. Gross. Bleh. Fat fat fat. Lose some weight. Undesirable. Disgusting. Cover up. Cover it. Don’t eat tod-“

“Hey baby, how about we get a shower?” Geralt said to try and pull Jaskier away from those intrusive thoughts. Geralt knew about Jaskier and his body image issues. Geralt came up behind his lover and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s sternum.

Jaskier laid his head back onto Geralt’s shoulder and took a big breathe, clearing his head. He held it for a moment before breathing out.

“No thank you, dear. I’ll get a shower after you get out. You can eat breakfast while I wash up.” Jaskier removed Geralt’s hands. He just wanted to put in his sweatpants and his oversized hoodie and just not be seen. Especially not by Mister Zero-Fucking-Body-Fat.

“I’ll make you breakfast Jask. You can go back to bed if you’d like. We can have a lazy day.” Geralt said as he ran his hand down Jaskier back before he turned to the bathroom.

“Thank you, love.” Jaskier sighed. God that man will be the death of him. Jaskier grabbed his hoodie and his sweats and a clean pair of underwear. He heard Geralt start the shower.

A short while later Geralt came out with a towel around his hips and quickly put on his sweatpants and a black shirt that wasn’t too snug. He knew he should wear looser clothes when Jask was in these moods.

“You get a shower and I’ll bring you breakfast in here. If you want to you could queue something up?” Geralt kissed his boyfriends forehead before leaving.

Jaskier got to the bathroom and tried not to look in the mirror. He quickly took off his shorts and got in the shower.

He washed as quickly as he could so he could get covered back up. He didn’t even wash his hair.

Soon he was in his sweats and hoodie and back on bed queuing up a show on Netflix.

Geralt walked in with a tray of food. Nothing that would bother Jaskier. Mostly cut fruit and yogurt.

“Here. C’mere I wanna hold you. Love you so much. My pretty perfect loverboy.” Geralt said as he held his arms open for Jaskier to cuddle to him. Jaskier cracked a smile at ‘loverboy’.

“You sure you want me too...” Jaskier looked down at himself.

“Yes Jask come here. I always wanna hug and cuddle you” Jaskier nodded and laid his back against Geralt’s chest and sat between his legs, tray of food in his lap.

They started to play Evil on Netflix and Jaskier ate a bit of this and that, not nearly enough.

“Want me to feed you, baby bear?”

“What did you just call me?” Jaskier turned to see Geralt’s face.

“Baby Bear. ‘Cause your cuddly and perfect and you’re my precious baby bear.” Geralt said very matter of factly.

Jaskier blushed and nodded.

Geralt picked up a piece of banana and held it up for Jaskier.

That’s how the morning went. Geralt feeding his baby bear pieces of fruit and spoons of yogurt while Jaskier smiled and fell even more in love with his boyfriend.

#fanfic #egg_company #geraskier fluff #geraskier #the witcher fanfic #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier

[iwillbringyouruin]

Radskier dialogue nuances in different languages

So I have been rewatching The Witcher in French recently and some of the changed lines stuck out to me, in the interactions between Radovid and Jaskier in particular. So i figured I'd compile my favourites from the translated versions I've seen so far here and compare their meaning to the original. I've also included some of the German lines since I'm German and I got curious!

Disclaimer: I'm just a guy who speaks a bunch of languages, don't expect overly technical linguistic wizardry here. Also this is not about the voice actors' skill or how well the lines are matched up to lip movements, strictly about the little changes in meaning when you take the translations literally! All meant to be in good fun.

Since this is about the season 3 dialogue, there are spoilers ahead.

This is going to be a long post so buckle up!

Season 3 in general: The way Jaskier and Radovid address one another

English (original): both use "you" which makes sense of course

French: Jaskier uses "vous" (the formal "you") for Radovid and Radovid uses "tu" (the casual "you") for Jaskier until they have sex in episode 4. When they talk the morning after in episode 6, they're both using "tu".

German: both use "Ihr" and the other formal derivatives for one another throughout (Even Geralt and Jaskier address each other formally the whole time. I'm not a fan)

Episode 1: Jaskier and Radovid meet

The dialogue here is generally very close, just two little things between the original and the German version I want to point out.

English (Jaskier): Fuck, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to… Bow? Or curtsy, or… I’ve been holding your hand a long time, so sorry about that.

German (Jaskier): Shit, I don't know if I'm supposed to bow or be polite... I've been holding your hand for too long, forgive me ("bow or be polite"?? HUH?)

English (Radovid): If your time at court’s been staid, you’ve been doing it wrong

German (Radovid): If your time at court has been too calm/quiet, something went wrong ([gay silence])

Episode 2: specifically Extraordinary Things

I've put the different lyrics as rather direct translations in the pictures below. They're also written out in the alt text. The French ones are a little more pointed compared to the original imo, I like that version a lot. I'm not sure how I feel about the German version but the first line did make me giggle.

Episode 3: Jaskier talks to Vespula about Radovid

I love this scene for many reasons. I have two things to point out about this.

The first thing is that while in the English and French version, Jaskier says that he and Radovid have only met twice, in the German version he says that he and Radovid don't even know each other.

The second thing is that in the English and German version, Jaskier calls Radovid a spoon and he does in the French version as well. However, he specifies Radovid is a "little spoon" here. Need I say more?

Episode 4: the scene in the shed

Ah, the scene of all time. Before the other scene of all time in episode 6. A few things about this one. The first thing is a very small change in the French version:

English (Jaskier, after Radovid admits he's scared): Just saying that makes you braver than you know.

French (Jaskier, after Radovid admits he's scared): The fact you're admitting that proves you are brave

The second thing bothered me more because it isn't really a subtle change. Both in English and French, Jaskier says Radovid has "learned [his] song", but in German he says Radovid "knows [his] song". The German line here isn't saying that Radovid "knows" the song as in he knows how to play it (from hearing and watching Jaskier play it for him once, mind you), the way it's said makes it sound like Radovid has just heard the song before.

The third thing is what they're saying right after the kiss. Unfortunately with the slightly changed lines for Jaskier we don't get the clever connection between Jaskier talking about taking Radovid into the cabin and Radovid asking Jaskier to take him (sexually).

English (Jaskier): I can't take you inside, I'm sorry.

English (Radovid): Then take me here.

French (Jaskier): The cabin is occupied, I'm sorry.

French (Radovid): Then take me here.

German (Jaskier): We can't go inside, I'm sorry.

German (Radovid): Then take me here.

Episode 6: the morning after

The German version is the same as the original here.

English (Jaskier to Radovid): I thought I’d seen through your mask. Turns out there was nothing behind it.

French (Jaskier to Radovid): I thought I had lifted the veil from your soul. But I found nothing but darkness beneath that façade

The subtle differences in the French version on the other hand not only make the pain a little different, it also includes an allusion of sorts to that version of Extraordinary Things with Jaskier talking about Radovid's soul. At least that's how I saw it. Ouch!

Episode 7: the moment where Jaskier finds Radovid at Thanedd

All three versions here make me want to cry. That's all.

English (Radovid): Just let me be there with you. Prove that I’m more than a mask.

English (Jaskier): Maybe.

French (Radovid): Just let me stay with you and show you what is beneath this façade.

French (Jaskier): Why not.

German (Radovid): Just let me be with you and show my true self.

German (Jaskier): Maybe.

#radskier #jaskovid #radovid #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher meta #twn s3 #the witcher season 3 #i made myself sad

[thelostgirl21]

Jaskier, The voice of the Continent,

meets

Radovid, The Voice of the Fandom...

Seriously, it's like they decided to have a character fall in love with Jaskier, and finally tell him everything we wish someone would have told him since the beginning of watching this show...

You gorgeous, loyal, empathetic, caring, devoted sapioromantic pansexual bard with a heart of gold and the voice of a freaking angel, that sees others as they are, and brings out the best in them often at your own expanse...

It was high time someone finally saw you, too - caught a glimpse of the pain and weariness you carry in your heart (yet keep downplaying and brushing aside, afraid that others would be made to feel bad about it and stop enjoying having you around to keep them entertained if they paid too much attention to it) - and took the time to remind you that you are, indeed, enough...

Radovid kept insisting for a song...

And you gave him one...

Not a song singing his own praises - with the goal or making him more sympathetic or famous to an audience (so that the world could see him and care about him the way you do)...

Not one asking him for what he yearns for, while being frustrated and heartbroken over him apparently being so set on self-sabotaging that he's unable to return the love of those that do love him...

No, for once, you decided that you were done "entertaining others", and singing about what you think they want you to sing...

Instead, you chose to sing a song about what you need and yearn for in life...

And he learned it...

Jaskier sang to him before he left the palace, and Radovid freaking learned Jaskier's song by heart, after having attentively listened to every note and every word he sang only once...

How's that for a pie without filling?

They somehow managed to turn that new ship into a whole freaking Cruise Line in just 4 episodes!

Don't get me wrong, I do love Geralt and genuinely think he was attempting to push Jaskier away out of both self-hatred and a desire to protect others from himself in Season 1... But the things he said, and the way he used to treat Jaskier, still hurt him, affected his sense of self-worth, and left some scars.

I'm therefore not drawing comparisons to bash on Geralt and Jaskier's own relationship, but because I love the healing opportunities that Radovid's hopefully genuine romantic interest in Jaskier are providing.

i.e. They better not pull some sick twist on us, by having Radovid be revealed as a cruel, scheming villain that took advantage of Jaskier's goodness, feelings, and needs for his own gain; because I've a feeling heads would be found in boxes!

Just let him have his big gay spoon, alright? Or little spoon! But I kinda want Jaskier to be the one spooned with someone firmly holding onto him with no intention of ever sending him away right now, so...

Also, what's the new name of that ship, Jaskovid? I'll go with Jaskovid...

I also found it very interesting, from a LGBTQ+ representation standpoint, that they are seemingly going the route of a polyamourous pansexual character that might be somewhere on the gray-romantic spectrum.

i.e. That Jaskier would specifically need to experience a sapioromantic connection - be attracted attracted to one's wits and insightfulness - in order for him to experience any desire to enter a romantic relationship with them.

Will Jaskier remain polyamorous, both romantically and sexually, should Radovid himself be monoamorously romantically/sexually exclusive, and the two of them choose to fully commit to their romantic connection?

I guess we'll have to see!

But I still thought it was a very nice nuance to bring to the character.

And I could see this going many different and equally interesting ways!

Jaskier could enter a deeply committed romantic and sexual relationship with Radovid, with one, or the two of them, remaining romantically and sexually non-exclusive (ex: one of my polyamorous friends has a main romantic/sexual partner that they live and share their lives with, and another one that they regularly go on romantic dates with, but without the need for them to build their lives together, or see each other as often).

Jaskier could enter a deeply committed romantic and sexual relationship with Radovid, with one, or the two of them, staying romantically exclusive, but enjoying sexual polyamory with lovers that they have no committed romantic connection to.

Jaskier could be revealed as being more ambiamorous than polyamorous, and be completely comfortable and happy being in a romantically and sexually exclusive relationship with a monoamorous partner.

As an ambiamorous panromantic demi-pansexual myself, I've personally discovered that, while I'm comfortable being in a romantic polyamorous relationship, sharing an exclusive romantic and sexual relationship doesn't feel forced, nor like I have to make any efforts and deprive myself of anything I enjoy, if I so happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to a person that isn't polyamorous.

It's like my monoamorous v.s. polyamorous instincts are naturally determined by the preferences of my romantic partner.

i.e. In the absence of any romantic connection to my sexual partners (that I do need to share a strong emotional bond with, however), however, I'm sexually polyamorous.

If the sexual desires occur in the context of a romantic connection with a monoamorous partner, I genuinely stop experiencing any sense of romantic and/or sexual attraction towards anyone else than that partner.

If the sexual desires occur in the context of a romantic connection with a polyamorous partner, however, then it's like my heart and my body will naturally remain open to forming multiple committed partnerships with other people, often with one of those romantic/sexual partnership being perceived as a domestic/life partner.

So, with Jaskier, it's perfectly possible that he might lose all interest in ever romantically and/or sexually having relationships with anyone other than Radovid, should Radovid be revealed as a being a romantically and sexually monoamorous individual himself.

Just like he could be polyamorously romantic and sexual all the way, and being unable to offer Radovid any exclusivity (which wouldn't make the romantic connection they share any less real, deep, nor valuable).

Whatever path that relationship takes, however, as long as the love and empathy between them remains genuine and real, I'll be extremely happy!

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #The Witcher #Pansexual Jaskier #Pan Jaskier #Pansexuality #Sapioromantic Jaskier #Sapioromantism #Polyamorous Jaskier #Polyamory #Ambiamorous Jaskier #Vespula #Ambiamory #LGBTQ+ #The Witcher Spoilers #Please let Jaskier have found someone that genuinely loves him... #I was so happy for him that Vespula seemed to have come to terms with him being polyamourous too... #And turned out to be so supportive of it in the end #I hope they'll remain close and good friends regardless of whether they continue to occasionally sleep together or not #My thoughts #My posts #My stuff #Personal #New ships!

[paper--moons]

Regressor!Geralt Headcanons

(with cg!Eskel)

When it comes to witchers and whether or not they experience regression, there is no discriminatory factor based on the School of their training, because it is the commonalities that they share that make regression quite common. These commonalities by and large are some form of trauma—the trauma of being taken from home at a young age, the trauma endured while undergoing the Trial of the Grasses, the trauma of being ostracized from most of society to slay monsters (which, again, slaying monsters isn't exactly a pleasant experience, but rather a matter of survival of the fittest). Whether it be any one of these events or a long life of built up stressors, that burden eventually becomes too much to bear and something has to give. Even for someone that the outside world has labeled a 'mutated freak' at best and 'inhuman' at worst. But witchers are secretive as a means of self-preservation, and while their lifestyle might breed trauma responses like regression they aren't going to key everyone else in on this little fact. Most deal with it alone, though back when there were more of them it wouldn't be uncommon to see glimpses of one helping care for another. That's the only reason Geralt has any sort of inkling about what starts happening to him not long after the Blaviken incident. He hadn't wanted to get involved either way, had tried to dissuade Renfri from her plans but she had been stubborn and he got caught up in a mess like always... Killing was no stranger to him, but he hadn't wanted to kill Renfri. And something about it was the last stone on the scale, creating an imbalance within him that was now tipping down heavily into 'small'.

It's little things at first, things that are easy enough to repress if he catches them—like the urge to chew on the leather ties on his gauntlets, or the urge to play with Roach when they're stopped at a stream. Witchers, perhaps as a result of the mutations combined with their survival instincts, are quite good at denying their regression until they are settled someplace safe for what they expect to be an extended period of time. For Geralt, that place is naturally Kaer Morhen. So when winter finally rolls around and he returns home the dam starts to crack after months of repressing everything small. But the old castle is big, and he thinks he can keep hiding most of any sort of tell just by keeping to himself. Until they convene for supper, that is. Then it becomes a lot harder to hide how clumsily he's gripping his spoon, or stifle the slight whine when he spills some of his rabbit stew down the front of his doublet. Vesemir huffs and mutters something about him being fussy, and Lambert snickers, but Eskel? Eskel looks concerned, having picked up on the fact that this isn't just some off day for Geralt but something else. And that's all it takes, really—Eskel has always been protective of Geralt, the two having been in the same group to go through the Grasses together and being close enough that many people thought they were related by blood. While he figures Vesemir has decided to assess the situation from a distance, Eskel believes he will fare better if he takes a more direct approach. Which is why he decides to rope Geralt into a game of gwent up in his room after dinner. It doesn't take much convincing either, as Geralt is happy for an excuse to head up early and not have a round of drinks with the others. After all, it's far easier to hide what's happening if he's just with one other person, right?

Wrong. He was very, very wrong. He gets proven wrong fairly quickly, too. They barely have their cards out when Geralt finds himself slipping quite a bit, though Eskel is nothing if not patient. He doesn't laugh when he makes mistakes concerning the basic rules of their card game, only gently reminds him of how to play. Nor does he laugh when Geralt starts to find the game too difficult, the cards too hard to read. No, instead he simply guides him to bed once he starts rubbing sleepily at his eyes, saying they can share like old times when Geralt hints that the journey through the halls of Kaer Morhen seems scarier tonight. The suggestion is all too easy to accept with his head starting to feel so fuzzy, and without thinking he burrows himself into Eskel's chest and sighs when he's pulled closer. It's achingly familiar, though they hadn't taken such comforts in each other in decades. Such things had become too childish for them both at some point. But all of those years fall away as Geralt lets himself relax and melt into the reassuring hold his brother has on him. For a moment he had feared that it wouldn't be as comforting as he remembered, but if anything it was better than it had been. There was nothing to fear come morning—none of the trials could hurt them now, none of the harsher older witchers either that Vesemir couldn't always steer them away from. No monsters for them to hunt nor man to hunt them. Knowing that this time was different was soothing in a way he couldn't have anticipated. Not to mention the fact that his senses were much more heightened than before, his ears far more attuned to the steady thrum of Eskel's heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

They don't really have to talk about it come morning—even if Geralt had not woken up regressed, there would still be a silent understanding between them of what had happened. The change in Geralt was plain to see, and with regression being common among witchers, well... Eskel doesn't mind that his little brother is considerably littler now and instead just gets them both ready for the day. It's not that big of a deal considering the kinds of things they regularly go through; if anything this is a nice break for everyone involved. So what if Geralt regresses? All that means is instead of helping Eskel tend to the horses that morning he wound up toddling around the courtyard behind Lil' Bleater, pointing out things with an excited albeit soft noise of delight (apparently, Lil' Bleater attempting to eat a rock was the pinnacle of entertainment for the little wolf). And he would have probably been content to continue to chase after the goat all morning had they not gotten called in for breakfast. Geralt is reluctant to leave the goat, and even more reluctant to see the other two witchers if the way he attempts to hide behind Eskel is any indication. What if they aren't as okay with him being...with Eskel taking care of him? But Vesemir doesn't seem surprised at all, only asking Geralt who he wants to help him with his breakfast so he doesn't make a mess like he had at dinner. Even Lambert seems alright with it, the extent of his teasing beginning and ending at the fact that he can now boast about not being the youngest out of the wolves—at least while Geralt is regressed.

As it turns out though, Geralt stays regressed a whole lot longer than he thought he would. Nearly the entirety of winter he stays small, with the occasional period of middlespacing. Perhaps it's the way his body compensates for having to put it off for so long, but Vesemir assures them all that this is completely normal for witchers. This not only eases any worries (and yes, even Lambert was concerned), but the extended time he spends small gives them all plenty of time to get to know little Geralt. After about a week they feel confident enough to say that Geralt seems to hover somewhere in the toddler years, probably at around four if they had to pick an exact age. They also start to learn a lot more about his preferences—this is not to say that they did not know any of them beforehand, but that Geralt is what some might call a picky kid. He needs his things a certain way, or he gets very upset! Things like having a schedule are important to how he functions, and while big Geralt can usually brush aside any deviations from what is expected of his day with annoyance, little Geralt struggles to deal with any major deviations. Accommodations are made accordingly however! Eskel sits down with Vesemir and Lambert so that the three of them can come up with a schedule that not only keeps Geralt happy, but also one that keeps them happy as as well. Mornings he spends with Eskel, tending to the animals. Afternoons are spent with Vesemir, helping sort Kaer Morhen's bestiaries before taking a nap (along with the older witcher, who also needs a midday nap). Evenings he spends with Lambert, toddling after him as he takes stock of their supplies and preparing things for the following day. But Geralt always goes with Eskel when it's bedtime. He just can't sleep through the night without his big brother there to keep away all the bad dreams and scary monsters!

The normality that his regression brings is perhaps the most unexpected thing about the whole affair. The winters at Kaer Morhen were already something softer than what the rest of their lives often entailed, but Geralt finds that his regression makes the season spent there almost...domestic. Without the usual pressures bearing down on them all, with his regression stripping away the need to tiptoe around certain sentiments, they can exist almost like a normal family if only for a time. And it's nice, to pretend. Pretend that this was what life was always like, that he had had a childhood not filled with training and mutations. Most people might say that childhood is the spring of their lives, but for Geralt it couldn't be any more different. Winter is filled with short days and long nights, which bring the soothing crackle of the wood in the fireplace. The smell of burning pine coiling around him, the ever-present heat it gives off permeating the space and seeping into his body and with it bringing peace along with its warmth. It felt much like his regression did—safe and familiar, soothing in a way that it had been for all of those who seek the "fire's" comfort. But the fire brings other creature comforts too. The long nights aren't lonely, quite the opposite; nights are spent keeping the fire company, filled with story and song, filling stews, the reassurance of curling into his brother's side, and the soothing touch of his father's hand as he smooths back his hair. The fire and his regression were one in the same, keeping the coldness of the world at bay. And Geralt could stay like that forever if only he did not have spring on the horizon.

Leaving in the spring is difficult. As the snow starts to thaw and melt away, so does the soothing haze of regression that has been all-encompassing for many weeks. But Geralt comes back up with a new clarity to his thoughts and with the burdens he shoulders feeling noticeably lighter. Setting out on the Path again is hard for him, but perhaps harder still for Eskel. How can he be expected to let his baby brother go out into the world to hunt monsters when a few nights ago he was afraid there might be one under the bed? But it has to be done. While they are apart and fall back into the witcher lifestyle, there are small indulgences made throughout the year. Eskel, in his travels, manages to acquire what he's certain will become treasured items: two books containing children's stories and a carefully stitched plush horse from a toy maker in Novigrad. It might have cost the entire bounty he was rewarded for slaying a cockatrice, but it will be well-worth the coin the next time he sees his brother. And for his part, Geralt slowly allows himself a few quiet nights where he middlespaces between hunts. His biology might not allow him to regress fully until he's bedded down someplace deemed safe with someone he can trust according to some instinctual part of his brain, but he can at least alleviate some of the need to be small and lessen the stress. It's small things, like allowing himself to spend some of his hard earned coin on any sweets that the inn he's holed up in may have on offer, or actually taking the time to find a warm bath house as opposed to just washing off in a cold river. The coming year may present him with many new challenges and struggles, but Geralt knows that at the end of it all rest awaits him—on the days where his regression threatens to overtake him, he can take comfort in knowing that his family is waiting for him come winter.

#sfw agere #the witcher #the witcher agere #geralt of rivia #agere geralt #eskel #agere eskel #moons hcs

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Connection

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike makes good on a promise to take you somewhere nice for the weekend.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI!!! (I know, it's real!) fingering, oral (m receiving), (protected) p-in-v sex (spooning, doggy and proneboning, god, these sluts don't even look at each other), a little too-soon-moment (though not the one you would expect) and Mike being silly and referring to himself as a horny slut.

Now that you're all thoroughly warned... Enjoy!

A/N: Alright! I had this done DAYS ago. Weeks, possibly, at this point... But I kept forgetting to post it because uni and life and laksdjfalsdkf why must it be like this?

This is formally the last part of the Coffee + Cats saga. I know, sad right? (I'm a little sad.) And I just want to thank everyone who's followed along for their love and support and the overwhelming amount of cat pictures and videos I have received! ❤️ A very special thanks to @geralts-yenn for putting the idea of barista!Mike in my brain that marked the beginning of this incredible journey of cockblocking Mike.

And because I am me, and I had such a blast writing this... Is it a surprise to anyone that I have 2 bonus chapters/drabbles planned?

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @mayloma @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @peyton-warren @livisss @ylva-syverson @sweetandgentlecreature

You’ll have to take Mike’s enthusiastic lips latching on to your neck for an answer, because you’re fairly sure it’s the only one you’re going to get. As he sucks, licks and nibbles on your skin, his hand travels down your body.

You don’t mind that this is where you win: Mike’s patience runs out as soon as he feels how wet you are, and you can’t help but chuckle when he softly swears under his breath. He immediately slips two fingers into your pussy, curling them up to find that sweet spot that makes you see stars. It only takes you seconds to figure out that he’s good, paying close attention to your reactions, teasing you with soft kisses to your neck and those nibbles on your earlobe that make you go just a little wild. Apparently, he also knows that ‘don’t stop’ means ‘keep doing exactly that’ and not ‘please change your approach to the most violent thing imaginable’.

For a minute, you think you hate him for his skill, but how could you ever really hate a guy who makes you cum like that, within minutes?

“Fuck, Mike,” you sigh as you melt into his arms, your walls still clenching around his fingers, “that was amazing.”

If it hadn’t already become glaringly obvious throughout the day, it would have been impossible to miss now: Mike thrives on praise and validation. He contently buries his face in your neck, humming softly as he keeps kissing you – he’s truly adorable, and sweet, and kind, and handsome, and… he deserves a reward.

Sharp teeth sink into his soft bottom lip when your fingers wrap around his cock. Now you’re the one not wasting any time, giving him a few gentle, slow strokes before dragging his sweatpants down as far as you can while you get on your knees. Mike is right there with you, helpfully offering assistance in the ‘getting him naked’-department.

With a grin on your face that you don’t doubt is entirely unsexy, you drag his sweatpants all the way down – still helped along by Mike, who helpfully scoots up a little – and sit in between his legs. Carefully, you lick the salty bead of precum off the tip of his cock – it’s enough to make his abs twitch, making you chuckle. Then, you lock your eyes on his and revel in Mike’s blatant, wide-eyed shock as you swallow him all the way down without hesitation.

“F-fuck, Sweetcheeks!” It’s almost a protest, the way he sputters and stammers something about taking it easy. He doesn’t want to cum, he wants you to feel good, this was supposed to be about you. Yawn. You are enjoying this, does he know that? “Baby,” you say, a warning hidden in your tone, “shush. I love doing this, especially if you get a little loud for me, okay?”

It doesn’t look like he believes you; he looks at you with confusion and suspicion in his eyes. By now he really should have caught on to the idea that you’re nothing like those horrible exes he has… Right? Maybe you should just ignore that look in his eyes and keep going. Would that work? Eh… Only one way to find out.

You slowly move up and down his length, reveling in the delightful moans that escape Mike. He’s easy to tease. His soft whines as your mouth leaves his cock and your hand takes its place while you lightly kiss the inside of his thighs are proof of that. The featherlight touch of your lips makes him squirm and beg to take him into your mouth again, but just as you’re about to do that, he stops you and pulls you up until he can plant a firm kiss on your lips again.

“I want you,” he mutters against your lips, “right now.”

“You wanted me twenty minutes ago,” you chuckle. Before you know it, you’re on your stomach, with Mike pinning you to the mattress.

“I wanted you six weeks ago.” He bites your earlobe, making you shriek. When he does it again, it sends a shiver down your spine. “Besides, I don’t think I’m the only horny slut in this room.”

“Oh, please refer to yourself as a horny slut more often!” you laugh as you move against his slacking grip on your wrist, taking his hand in yours.

“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” Mike says before kissing your neck, “now turn around, please?”

“Actually,” you say hesitantly, “I’m kinda comfortable like this.” Mike doesn’t seem to think that the depraved thought you considered it to be, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. As he pulls you closer, you feel his cock against your ass, and you wiggle your hips against him. To tease him? You’re beyond that at this point. For good measure? To make him finally hurry the fuck up? You know what? That last one actually sounds plausible… And it makes Mikey’s comment from before one hundred percent right: He’s not the only horny slut in the room.

“Forgive me for asking,” Mike mumbles, “but do I have to grab a condom, or…”

Now, the correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “I’m on the pill.” The correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “And I’m clean.” The correct answer to that question is ‘yes’. “And if you are, too, then…” The. Correct. Answer. To. That. Question. Is. ‘Yes’. “But the real question is…” Oh, just tell the man to grab protection! “Are you going to last without?” Mean and unnecessary…

And somehow incredibly effective. “I feel that shouldn’t be the primary concern,” Mike chuckles, with no sign of embarrassment to his voice, “but it’s a valid point, unfortunately.”

You whine when the warmth of his body disappears for a second, and you watch Mike as he pulls a box of condoms from the drawer in the nightstand.

“You’re fast,” you laugh when it only takes him a few short moments to put the thing on.

“I feel ‘years of practice’ would be totally the wrong answer here,” Mike says as he joins you on the bed again, spooning you like he did before. “For what it’s worth, now that I’m here with you, I regret everything else I’ve ever done.”

“Don’t,” you whisper. “I’m just glad I’m here with you now. After everything else. You know… Those years and years of practice.” The chuckle you let out turns into a soft gasp as Mike lines up behind you.

“Finally here with you,” he corrects you as he slowly pushes forward, leaving you gasping, moaning louder in his arms as he inches his way into your drenched core. Mike softly kisses your neck and shoulders until he stops moving, then nestles comfortably against your back for a while. “This is comfy.”

You have to agree; it’s extremely comfy and so, so sweet, and you are so crazy about this silly guy and… and you’re completely impatient to finally feel him move. He laughs triumphantly when you tell him that. “I told you I was going to make you beg for it.”

He did. He really did exactly that and now that he’s kept his promise… Only he doesn’t feel he’s kept his promise just yet, because what you just did wasn’t quite begging as far as he’s concerned. Oh, for fuck’s sake! “Fuck me, Mike. Please!”

“That’s more like it,” he says – no doubt with a massive grin on his stupid, stupid face. When he moves, you gasp loudly. He’s rough, possessive, digging his fingers into your hips, and his teeth briefly into your shoulder. In no time, you’re turned onto your stomach, and he leaves you for a second, dragging you onto your knees before slamming into you again from behind, a hand between your shoulder blades pressing your chest down onto the mattress as he grinds his hips into you.

Holding back your moans is impossible – and unnecessary. There’s no one around to hear you. Even the neighbors aren’t within earshot! And any unlucky passerby’s that manage to hear what you’re up to are likely trespassing, anyway, so screw them. Almost every moan, squeal and whine makes Mike chuckle softly under his breath.

You shriek in surprise when Mike stops and pulls your legs out from under you, and he flops on top of you before littering your neck and shoulders with kisses.

“Mikey!” you laugh when he starts what you first think is a game of footsie, somehow – it turns out he’s just trying to reposition legs, and you’re not helping.

When he finally manages, and slips back into you, you let out a long moan. There’s no reason to be disappointed because he’s slowed down. In fact, every move he makes feels like it’s exactly what you need – and you don’t have to say a word. It’s like…

“God, it’s like you were made for me, Sweetcheeks,” Mike moans into your ear. Yes. That’s exactly what it feels like. All of his insecurities about not being good enough for you seem to be gone now, and rightfully so.

“I love you.” No. What? You didn’t mean to say that – but that doesn’t mean you don’t mean what you say. Get it? Maybe ‘within six weeks of your first date, during the first time you have sex with the guy’ is a little early – but that doesn’t matter anymore because it’s out now. You can’t even convince yourself he didn’t hear it, because he freezes. Well… Not quite that. It’s a fairly recognizable stutter-y kind of movement, actually. So not only do you say something utterly stupid, but also at the worst possible moment.

“Impeccable timing, Sweetcheeks,” Mike laughs softly as he pulls out. “I know I’m kinda leaving you hanging here, but I need one tiny little moment, okay?” You reluctantly agree because he’s right, he does need a moment – not that he’s wrong about the other thing.

You use the time Mike spends in the bathroom to overthink everything, and by the time he gets back, you’ve almost managed to work yourself completely into hysteria.

“Babe,” Mike says as he crawls under the covers with you and wraps his arms around you. Your brief moment of meditative overthinking has made sure your heart is racing and you’re struggling to control your breath. “Come here, look at me.” His hand on the side of your face is reassuring, but you still can’t help but think you’ve fucked it all up. “I’ve never said this to any girl who wasn’t either my mom or a… cat,” he says softly, his voice a little unsteady. “I love you, too.”

#mike hellraiser #mike hellraiser fic #mike (hellraiser) #hellraiser mike #mike (hellraiser) x reader #hellraiser mike x reader #mikey x reader #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #mike hellraiser smut

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 15

It started with Jaskier laughing at Yennefer sneezing her mouth full of salad on the kitchen table while he was in the middle of eating. A few bits of his ham and cheese sandwich tumbled out of his mouth, landing in his glass of tea. "F**khh--!"

"Ha!" Yennefer laughed, "That's what you get!"

Jaskier opened his mouth and showed Yennefer the rest of his chewed up sandwich just to be childish. It fell into his glass.

"Godsd*mmit!" He snarled vehemently as Yennefer cackled.

Geralt took the glass, stirred the mess with the straw, then handed it back to Jaskier and said, "I dare you to drink it!"

Jaskier hesitated for a second. He'd eaten worse. H*ll, he'd licked a gas station toilet seat once! This was nothing! It was just tea and some wet bread. He drank the soggy mess.

"Meh," he said with a shrug. "Kind of bland, actually."

Geralt took the glass and sniffed the little bit of sludge left at the bottom, then drank it. "I'd give it a 2 out of 10."

Jaskier took the glass back and poured in a little milk, added a handful of crumbled up crisps, a spoonful of mustard, and a splash of orange juice.

And unspoken contest had just begun. Yennefer watched mutely as Jaskier drank half the concoction, then passed the other half to Geralt. They both made faces and gave their opinions on the taste.

"That tastes like a f**ked up Dreamsicle!" Jaskier announced, making a face. Geralt gagging slightly on the crisp mush, nodded his agreement.

The glass was rinsed out, and this time, a soda was poured into it. Geralt added a handful of M&Ms, a piece of leftover fried fish from last night's dinner, mayonnaise, and a scoop of pineapple pieces into the blender. This was then poured into the glass of soda.

Geralt and Jaskier each drank some.

"EEaaaUUGGGHHHH!"

"HhhUURRRGhhh!"

"You're both morons!" Yennefer said, laughing at the faces they were making as they tried to get the taste out of their mouths.

The next 'drink' consisted of spaghetti, grape juice, Lucky Charms, soy sauce, and a Snickers bar. The drink was divided and then consumed. It was chunky, and Geralt was having a little trouble getting it down. He took a breath, and sucked it down in one go.

Jaskier was trying to drink his portion as fast as he could, trying not to think too much about the chunky bits. Yennefer was holding her breath when he gagged and she saw his cheeks puff up before he swallowed heavily with a shudder.

"That tasted horrid!" He said weakly.

"It wasn't that bad," Geralt claimed.

"Bullsh*t, I saw you gag, too! And you cheated! You did that guzzling trick, so of course you didn't really taste it!"

Uh-oh, they were arguing. Yennefer hoped that maybe this whole stupid game was going to end. Unfortunately no, it was not over yet. Her boys were dumber than she'd given them credit for.

"Okay," Geralt said, "Let's just blend them up really well, and drink them with straws."

"How about we each make one and split them?"

"Hm. Good idea!"

Jaskier's creation included broccoli, bacon grease, lemon juice, half a slice of supreme pizza, peanut butter crackers, half a bottle of A** Reaper Hot Sauce, and some crumbled up chocolate cake.

Geralt's mixture contained milk, raw eggs, some kind of powdered fruit-flavored drink mix, mustard, breakfast sausage, and two sardines.

"You're going to get sick!" Yennefer warned as she watched Geralt spoon a heaping mound of chili paste into the blender.

Geralt would probably just get a mild stomach ache, but Jaskier with his acid reflux? Oh, he was going to be hurting.

"Hm!" Geralt grunted dismissively

She tried one more time to be the voice of reason as the two morons divided the Horror Cocktails between them.

"Jaskier, babe, you probably shouldn't drink that. It's going aggravate your acid reflux. Remember what happened with the Firecracker shrimp--!"

"Hush, witch, this is man business!"

"Fine, give yourselves the sh*ts, "

"Where are you going?"

"To the back yard to dig the hole I'm going to bury your stupid a** in."

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at her while simultaneously giving her the finger as she left.

"Mine first!" Jaskier said, pouring half the slurry he'd made into two glasses. He added a straw to each, then pushed one glass over to Geralt. They clinked their glasses together, and seconds later, Geralt and Jaskier were sucking down the liquefied horror.

Their exclamations of revulsion could be heard all the way to Yennefer's bedroom. They were quickly followed by the sounds of two men who were convinced their tongues were on fire.

I'm living with dumba**es. Yennefer thought to herself as she listened to them drink the sludge Geralt had made, then curse and blow and pant and make gargling noises as they chugged milk to kill the burn.

She could picture it so clearly. Jaskier and Geralt dancing around the kitchen, swearing and panting. They would be huffing long breaths in through their mouths to cool the burning sensation. Their lips would be on fire.

Geralt had heard somewhere that hair absorbed the oils that caused the burning, so they would both be rubbing handfuls of Geralt's hair on their mouths and tongues.

The noises died down after a few minutes, and Yennefer went back to her book. Her peace was disrupted about an hour later by the sounds of two jacka**es experiencing stomach issues. Geralt was in the upstairs bathroom, and Jaskier was in the downstairs, both of them sh*tting what felt like liquid fire.

When the smell began seeping out into the rest of the house, Yennefer opened a few windows and shoved some towels into the gaps under the bathroom doors. She felt only a tiny bit bad about trapping her boys in there with the horrible stench, but hey, natural consequences.

Geralt was confused and mortified as he sat on the toilet in an expanding miasma that was making him gag. He was a Witcher, and he wasn't supposed to have problems like this! F**k, he could eat roadkill, or eat out of the garbage and be fine! Witchers were made to survive on anything, they weren't supposed to get the sh*ts from a little mixed up food! His bowels cramped painfully...

Jaskier was shaking on the downstairs toilet. His stomach and his a**hole were aflame. Oh gods, this was worse than the Firecracker Shrimp incident! The heartburn, the acid in the back of his throat, the fire in his guts... This was Hell. He was in Hell. There was no other place he could be. It was pain and misery, and was that brimstone he smelled? Phew! That was rancid! Oh, sh*t, he was drooling...

Geralt: *unintelligeble cursing*

Jaskier: *barfing and sh*tting simultaneously*

Geralt: *terrifying explosive noises*

Jaskier: My a**hole's on fire!

Yennefer did the only thing she could think of to help in the situation. She cranked the volume of the stereo up, and played "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash.

Howls of outrage and distressed digestive noises rang out from the bathrooms.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #twn #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskefer #geraskifer #yenralt #yennskier #yenskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #error 404 brain not found headcanon #error 404 headcanon #brain not found headcanon

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Of all the decisions Lambert had (and would) come to regret, this one definitely hadn't been on his list.

He and Aiden had run into Geralt, sat alongside a brunette man who could only be the bard they'd heard rumours about - if the way he was sitting a little too close to a Witcher than was deemed sensible and appeared to be talking Geralt's ear off was any indication. The white haired Witcher looked both panicked and relieved when he spotted them, calling them over and making hasty introductions in an attempt to draw the humans attention away from him for a few minutes.

Something which successfully resulted in Aiden and Jaskier acting as if they'd known one another for years rather than hours, the Cat more than happy to keep fielding the bard's questions (Lambert had resorted to Geralt's tried and tested method of grunts and growls when they hit double digits with no signs of stopping) and trade casual, friendly touches.

Although they agreed on most things, that was something they had never been able to see eye to eye on. Lambert tolerated touch at the best of times, the moments that weren't linked to punishment or training fleeting at best. Aiden on the other hand, thrived on it, constantly subconsciously latching onto the nearest body in one form or another. Unfortunately for Lambert, whenever Aiden decided to tag along for longer than a day or two, the nearest body was usually him. Even at night, he would migrate - moving his bed roll so they woke up nose to nose when they had started the night on opposite sides of the fire and on the occasions when they had needed to share a bed, many a time had Lambert woken up with Aiden wrapped around him like an octopus.

So naturally, when Jaskier and Aiden had come back from speaking to the innkeeper about rooms for the night - explaining that yes, they had two rooms but one of them was a double bed whilst the other was two singles - Geralt and Lambert had both simultaneously stated that they would take the two singles under the guise of wanting to catch up with one another properly, while Jaskier and Aiden - in Lambert's words - could "Do one anothers hair and fight about who gets to be the little spoon." (He'd meant the first part as a joke, but from the way Jaskier started eyeing up Aiden's curls....). It was the perfect solution.

Except it wasn't, as it turns out. Sleeping lightly anyway - thanks to being in a strange place and surrounded by fickle, unpredictable humans - Lambert's mind appeared to be a few steps behind and refusing to accept that just because it was night and Aiden wasn't in his line of sight didn't mean he was in danger. He was getting tired of being pulled out of his doze every time someone slammed a door to then be jerked into full wakefulness because the body he was expecting to be sharing (invading) his personal space wasn't there. From the looks of it Geralt wasn't faring much better, his eyes meeting Lambert's every time from the bed closest to the door.

It was the early hours of the morning when Geralt pulled himself from under the covers, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a resigned "Fuck me." before opening the door and blinking in surprise to see Aiden stood there, a fist raised ready to knock. The two of them exchanged a brief nod before Geralt slipped out of the room and Aiden inside.

Aiden didn't even give the now spare bed a cursory glance, making a bee line for Lambert who scootched closer to the wall without even making a show of grumbling as the Cat climbed in beside him, pressing himself along his back and tucking his knees behind Lambert's.

"What happened, bard too handsy even for you?" Lambert asked, only half joking as he felt something in him uncoil now that he could see the other was alright.

"No, but Geralt wasn't exaggerating when he said he never shuts up. He talks in his sleep. Plus, maybe I just missed my more prickly bed buddy."

"Don't ever call me that again."

"What would you prefer? Cuddle chum, snuggle monster? Not that you ever reciprocate that much, but a little embellishment never hurt-"

"Fucks sake. If I give you a cuddle will you shut the hell up?"

He didn't miss the little pleased noise Aiden made as he moved back just far enough for Lambert to be able to turn onto his back and lift an arm which Aiden immediately took advantage of, pressing his nose into Lambert's collar bone as he threw an arm across Lamberts chest, the Wolf feeling the slight purr as he awkwardly wrapped his arm around Aiden's shoulders in return.

"G'night, Prickles."

Lambert couldn't muster the energy to bite back on that one as he felt his eyes slip closed, not waking again until the innkeeper yelled at them through the door to either pay for another day or get out.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

[beltrixuniverse]

I am angry about Tissaia

I am angry about creators of the show making a point about Tissaia knowing her students, but still not noticing them getting missing. It would be just so easy to show that Rita now runs the show, so Tissaia does not know every one of them, therefore she is not concerned about them... But she knows their names, their troubles (homesickness) and waves away Triss’s worry. (Even though I still have mixed opinions on this versus the eel thing. Like Sabrina, Triss, Rita... seemed very upset about it, but like do they not know that about a third of their classmates ended as eels?) 

I am angry that after being led into the “purge-room” Vilgefortz still needed to tell her to free them. 

I am angry that Vilgefortz basically spoon-fed her what is going to happen, but she did not do anything. Like she was battle-ready, she had a sort of plan against presumed Redanian soldiers, so even though she was shocked about the revelation of his true nature, she could at least throw him or something. Or better - we could have seen a little bit of fight. But her weak “Please” (absolutely understandable) was all we’ve got, no continuation (absolutely needed). I am really probably the only one, but I enjoyed their relationship. So why not go all the way with their break-up? Show us Tissaia’s anger. Obviously Vilgy would have to run away, because of the big reveal of his power with the fight with Geralt, but at least start it. 

I am angry that the lightning scene was almost for nothing. Like, it looked cool, and Francesca and Fringilla screamed and people run (and few of them died), but ultimately, we have not been shown any real damage. Later, we’ve seen quite a lot of Francesca’s people alive. So, what was the point? Do not have Dijkstra TELLING us that she is the strongest mage, SHOW US! In comparison with the damage done by Yennefer in season 1, this seemed very weak.   

I am angry that even after the “pep-talk” from Yennefer she still did it. We could have seen Yenn talking to someone else and Tissaia maybe realizing, that Yenn is someone who can replace her as a leader of mages. But Yenn was talking TO her. Telling her how important she was. How loved she was. 

I am angry that without Tissaia I have very little reason (except for Mahesh Jadu) to continue watching this show. She was really the heart not only of Aretuza, but of the show. Because all the rest of the relationships feels pretty flat to me. (Maybe except for Jaskier; who is by the way surprisingly less and less annoying.)

#the witcher #Tissaia de Vries #show not tell

[winters-mistress]

Moonblood

Let it be known that Geralt and his brothers are, all in all, good men. Yeah, they can be dicks -like that time Eskel and Geralt had dressed up as Wyverns and leaped upon their brother while he slept, or that time Lambert had spiked a bottle of white gull with a certain medicinal herb that made the thief more than obvious- but they are good men. Stupid, granted -Geralt had thrown Lambert off a snowdrift when they were training, while Eskel had tried to balance the wall after drinking two entire tankards of brandy- but they are good men.

Geralt had tried to make it clear on the trip up to Kaer Morhen with his new ward. All in all, she seemed to believe him, until Lambert had started hissing at her, about the way the pretty little princess did her pretty little hair and wore her pretty little dress and stuck her pinky up when she drank water. Ciri had thrown a horse shoe at him, and all deemed to have been well after that. Lambert was less of a knob, Eskel tried his best to push past his pain of yet another blonde daughter of Kaer Morhen running around the hallways, Coen was thrilled to have another lover of the arts amongst the cranky wolves, and Vesemir slipped into the old master role with ease.

Things had been going well -albeit with Cirilla's still wild powers popping up at the most inconvenient of times- with his girl eager to learn anything they would teach her. Swordplay, hand to hand combat, star throwing, sword making and even the mundane things like hunting, skinning, cooking, harvesting and laundry she took to with eagerness. It had probably been those weeks of confusion and helplessness that spurned her onwards in all things they taught her, eager never to be how she had been ever again.

And it was because of her determination and her willingness to get down and scrap with the witchers, sampling the alcohol they had let her have and twirling a cheese knife when she was taught how, with her messily tied braid and dusty cheeks as Lambert taught her all the fun curse words Eist hadnt gotten around to yet as he went theiught he basics of bombs, that they almost forgot the most obvious thing of all.

Ciri was a girl.

And that was why it was so startling to Geralt when Lambert had started snipping at the girl because of her washed hair and face -was it about that? Geralt hadn't been paying attention, he was so shocked at her reaction that the context didn't seem important anymore- that ciri simply dropped her spoon into her bowl of porridge, and promptly burst into tears.

All of the witchers took a deep breath, rearing back as if the girl would suddenly leap out and strike. She didn't do that, simply sat there on the bench and cried into her hands.

Geralt reaches over to her, having stayed close when her scent had changed a couple days ago. He didn't know why, and with all the Kings and Mages hunting the girl, any changes was concerning. That and the sudden metallic scent of blood he had noted when the girl had walked into the room that morning, he was very unnerved by this reaction.

Not knowing what else to do, and with his mind spinning as he tried to come up with a reason of why his girl was acting so differently, the witcher reaches out and brings her into his arms. She goes willingly, clinging to him as she continues to cry.

"I-I-I- uh-" Lamb stutters, looking at his brother, eyes wide. He's befuddled, and obviously concerned that his brother will be the one to leap at him and pummel him.

Geralt cuddles his girl as best he can, shushing her, and taking in the scent once more. It's different than her usual honey and lemon and rose petals, more salty and bitter, as well as the metallic scent of blood.

Changes of scent, blood, crankiness- oh.

"Ah." The penny finally drops, running his hands over her back as she sniffles. "I get it now."

And it seems that his brothers and father attain the same knowledge at the same time. They relax and tense in the same moment, obviously unsure of what to say.

"Get what? I disnt-" Lmabert speaks fast.

"Can you not smell the blood?" Eskel huffs quietly, cuffing his brother. "She's a girl. They bleed."

"What? I-oh. Oh. Yeah, I get it. Fuck. I-fuck." Lambert rambles. "Umm, I'm very sorry, Ciri. Didn't mean to upset ya." He drawls awkwardly, fiddling with his blackened fingers.

She finally starts to compose herself, but doesn't seem willing to let go of Geralt just yet.

"Shit-uh-" Vesemir mutters. "Girl, if you don't feel up to training or lessons, you can have a few days away from it. Don't want to pressure you." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "And, if you want to head back to bed, that's fine too. Or train as normal, whatever works for you."

Ciri sniffles, and stops crying, but doesn't let go of the white haired witcher, nor look at his kin.

"Uh, you want a tonic? For the pain? I'm sure we can find something that'll work to take the discomfort. Does it hurt, lovers have mentioned that it does." Vesemir starts to ramble.

Geralt, Eskel and Lambert grunt in disgust. Eskel groans in agony, while Lambert gags.

"Melitele's tits, old man. Last thing any of us want to picture is you sticking your dick in a woman."

Geralt gags at that, and Ciri manages a giggle.

Coën shares a grin with the old wolf, both of them knowing why he had added the last part.

"In all seriousness, you need anything, girl? We could rip up some of the old bedsheets for cloth, figure out what tonic would make ya feel better. Can look in some of the old textbooks for that tea recipe the matrons used to swear by." Coën says, looking at the girl as she finally pulls from Geralt a little. He slings an arm around her shoulders as she burrows in.

"Yes, thank you." She whispers, wiping her blotchy face.

"Come on-" Geralt pulls at her wrists as he stands. "let's get you laying down, that'll make you feel better? Can get a waterskin, fill that up with some hot water, does that help."

"It-it does." She nods, standing up. She looks at the other witchers. "Thanks, for being nice, I guess. I know it's not something you deal with usually."

"Nonsence, girl. Get restin', feelin' better. You're no use to us all teary and bloody." Lambert smirks, sincerely hoping the girl wouldn't cry again.

And by the way she huffs and flips him off, he's amused and jovial once again.

Now, where are those bedsheets?

#the witcher netflix #geralt and ciri #geralt of rivia #ciri is his baby #cirilla of cintra #dadralt #fanfiction #geralt is the best dad #witcherfanfiction #cirilla fiona elen riannon #princess cirilla #witcher uncles #uncle lambert #uncle eskel #uncle coen #grandpa vesemir #eskel #coen #lambert #vesemir #geralt #menstruation

[flowercrown-bard]

A Happy Man

(@thingr2 you might like this? It kind of has 'birds still sing' vibes. Please tell me if I should stop tagging you in stuff)

"Are you happy?" Geralt asks. He's pretty sure he already knows the answer, but he needs to hear Jaskier say it.

Jaskier's spoon stops half-way to his mouth. Soup is drizzling back into the bowl but Jaskier doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy staring at Geralt like he had just asked him to sell his lute. The steam rising up from the soup fogs up Jaskier's glasses and obsures his eyes, but the bewildered expression is no less effective for it.

"What's brought this on?" The spoon clatters, as Jaskier let's it fall back into the bowl. Some of the soup splashes onto the woolen jumper he's wearing. He hadn't worn the extravagant doublets in a long time, said there's no need for that anymore and that he prefers comfort over luxury.

Geralt shrugs. He wants to avoid Jaskier's eyes, but he had unlearned how to tear his eyes away from him ages ago. It had been even longer since he had wanted to.

"I don't know," he says. His fingers drumm on the table - a nervous habit he had adopted from Jaskier. "It's just. You always wanted to have adventures."

A laugh tumbles from Jaskier's lips at that. He reaches out and takes Geralt's hand; a way to share the laughter with him, even if sometimes Geralt still struggles with laughing as loudly and freely as Jaskier does.

"Oh dear heart, I'd say I had my fair share of adventures," Jaskier says, when his laughter dies away. "All these years you try to tell me not to run after you on hunts and now you want me to go on adventures again?"

"I want to know if you're happy," Geralt corrects him softly.

"And why would you think I'm not?" Speaking makes the wrinkles around Jaskier's mouth even more apparent. They come from years of laughing and singing and loudly proclaiming his love for Geralt and yet Geralt can't help but wondering.

"You always wanted to travel. There is still so much of the continent left that you didn't see."

"There is," Jaskier agrees. With his free hand, he gestures towards the painting of the coast hanging on the wall, the collection of knick-knacks on the window sills, that Jaskier had bought on their travels and the stack letters on a shelf, that Geralt had sent to him over the years whenever he had left their home for a little while. "And how lucky I am that I have someone by my side who has seen every part of it and can tell me all about it."

He lifts Geralt's hand and presses a lingering kiss against his knuckles. He doesn't lower their hands back onto the table again.

"You wanted an exciting life," Geralt says.

Jaskier sighs softly and presses his cheek against their joined hands. "And what makes you think I don't have the most exciting life I could imagine?"

There are so many answers to that. So many ways in which Jaskier could be leading a better life, but the way he is looking at Geralt makes all words die away on his tongue.

"Are you happy?" Jaskier asks, when it becomes clear that Geralt won't reply.

Geralt takes in the small room that is filled with mementos of their life together. And he looks at Jaskier, well-fed, healthy and still smiling despite the way his bones would sometimes creak in the morning.

Yes, he is happy. Of course he is. How could there be any other answer, when he gets to be there by Jaskier's side, as he is growing old?

Unable to put any of that into words or even say a simple 'yes' out loud, Geralt simply nods.

Jaskier's face lights up, just the same as it had that time Geralt had told him he liked his songs.

"See?" Jaskier's thumb caresses a small circle into the back of Geralt's hand. "There you have your answer."

#I don't ever write in present tense #So I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors #Geraskier #Old Jaskier #Jaskier #Witcher #My writing #Ficlet