#geralt just didn't think he'd actually manage to do it

[thelostgirl21]

"My number-one priority, which I said to her, was just to make sure that we were doing it right and that we did it sensitively with a care and a kinship, and I wanted to avoid all kinds of stereotyping, really. So there was an awful lot of script rewrites and things like that. We deleted whole scenes in favour of songs. So I brought in a new song, and I said: 'Can we just cut all this dialogue, and I can just sing something?'" - Joey Batey, Digital Spy interview

The first time I watched that scene, when Jaskier started singing that last part to Prince Radovid:

Of them, I’ve had enough. With you, I have enough. With you, I am enough. I am… I am enough...

I literally started crying. Because, although it's played for laughs, since the beginning of the show, Jaskier's often been portrayed like this "annoying character" that tries too hard to be liked, wanted, and involved in his friends' lives... to find his "forever home"...

But often, he just gets punched in the gut, blamed for everything going wrong in other people's lives, gets told off when he tries to introduce himself or be included in moments where people are there to offer each other comfort (but apparently want none from him) as a result...

Season 2 started to make some progress on that, with Yennefer and Geralt allowing themselves to show more vulnerability around him, and telling him that his help his needed...

Season 3 saw characters that are usually so quick to dismiss him and treat him harshly (ex: Yarpen Zigrin) actually thank him, when they realize how selfless Jaskier can be, and the risks he is willing to take to help others (even those that treat him like an annoying nuisance)...

But still, he'd gotten used, at some point, to being "barely tolerated" rather than "wanted". And his "break up" with Geralt broke his heart and hurt him so much that, although forgiven, I believe it did leave some scars...

As someone with ADHD (that has a tendency to get overexcited about a bunch of things without noticing that it doesn't interest people, impulsively interrupt them with my thoughts, follow them around, and "impose my presence" without meaning to) and associated rejection sensitive dysphoria, Jaskier's behavior and emotional responses are something very easy for me to identify with.

And having him sing "With you I am enough. I am enough," hit me right in the feels, in the most cathartic way!

Prince Radovid is the first person we met on the show, I think, that was shown as being immediately happy to meet Jaskier, wished to adopt that puppy and bring him home right away, saw him as being irresistible and special, envied Geralt for having Jaskier as a friend/companion, couldn't get enough of his singing, and listened when he talked to the things he didn't say...

Knowing that it is Joey himself that just decided to basically show up to work with that song he'd written, and ask if he could sing it instead of using the dialogue in the script, just ended up offering yet another layer to that scene.

When hearing him sing:

"It’s not a want, it’s a need, it is paying no heed to what others say to sing."

now, I can't help but feel like there's some kind of "meta" dimension to those lyrics, as the actor chose to sing what he - as the person embodying Jaskier - wanted to sing, rather than what had been scripted and what others would have wanted him to sing.

That song feels deeply personal, born out of a very intimate understanding of the character, and how being treated the way that he used to be treated would have emotionally and psychologically affected him.

I'll be 100% honest, when Joey was talking about the sapioromantic connection between the characters, and explaining how Radovid wore a mask, was a bit of a mystery to him, and how Jaskier would become fascinated and wish to figure him out...

...I was genuinely concerned that they'd somehow manage to "romanticize" yet another toxic relationship, where the two characters would constantly be trying to outsmart and play mind games with each other.

But that's not it at all. They are both seeing what they try so hard to hide from others. Prince Radovid's environment is highly toxic and dysfunctional (as Jaskier aptly described, he's stuck in a vipers' den) - knowing too much, or not enough - can mean life or death for him.

Whereas Jaskier tries so hard to meet expectations and be what others need or want him to be - give voice to other people's issues, stories and problems - that he all but becomes invisible to others himself as a process.

Sure, they know his name and his songs. But they don't know Jaskier's own soul or story. He fades away in the background for the benefit of others.

They are both trying to figure each other out not because they are people that enjoy indulging in court intrigues, manipulating others, and dominating "the game" for their own gain...

They are trying to emotionally connect with the good, beautiful, and vulnerable parts of themselves that they have been forced to hide from the rest of the world to survive.

They are highly insightful empathetic individuals using their gifts on each other to empower each other, rather than malignant narcissists using their perceptiveness to control each other.

This is an extremely refreshing and healthy relation dynamic that I was sort of hoping for - since Joey put so much emphasis on how important it was for him to offer a relationship that may be flawed, but handled sensitively and carefully without resorting to stereotypes - but this totally went above and beyond my expectations!

If Joey Batey himself isn't queer, then he's got such a capacity for love and emotional empathy that he's apparently able to care about queer issues with the intensity and insightfulness of someone that has experienced them.

The fact that he's using queer labels and sub-categories that are often lesser known by people outside of the LGBTQ+ community to describe Jaskier's sexuality (sapioromantic, panromantic or pansexual...), as well as talking about issues affecting non-monosexuals, such as the desire to avoid bisexual erasure, brings some much needed attention towards the richness and diversity of the LGBTQ+ community!

I sincerely couldn't be happier, or more grateful...

Apparently, there are plans to further explore Ciri's bisexuality, too, with the introduction of Mistle in Season 3!

Here's hoping they'll be using Jaskier as "queer consultant" for the other queer romances on the show...

Also, the relationship between our sweet Bi!Ciri and her weird Pan!Uncle Jaskier means everything to me...

I'm trying to remember if Ciri has been exposed to any models of queer romances in her life...

I mean, most unions between princes and princesses, or kings and queens, are often political alliances. They might have same gender consorts, but I'm not sure that this is something they would have educated younger princesses about, or made very "public".

I sort of want to have her catch Jaskier and Radovid while they are kissing at some point, and realize that the innocent crush she had on Triss in Season 2 is something that is perfectly normal, and that she shouldn't be afraid nor ashamed of that part of herself.

Maybe even go to him and start asking him questions about it... That would be a very thoughtful and sensitive way to explore what being queer means in the world of the Witcher; having Ciri learn, directly from Jaskier, about the potential risks associated with being in an openly gay relationship.

There would really be such an opportunity for the two of them to continue to bond over something like this, and Ciri would know that she's got someone that genuinely loves her and that she can trust to support her and the choices she makes regarding her love life in the future, no matter what.

I can see so many possibilities, though I'm trying to be cautiously optimistic about this (since if they went that route, it would just seem too good to be true!)...

#Jaskier #Pan Jaskier #Pansexual Jaskier #The Witcher #Radskier #Pansexuality #Radovid #OTP: You Learned My Song #Extraordinary Things #Panromantic Jaskier #Panromantism #Sapioromantic Jaskier #Sapioromantism #Bisexual Ciri #Bisexuality #LGBTQ+ #The Witcher Spoilers #Queer representation #done right... #Thus far at least! #My Posts #My Stuff #My Thoughts #Videos #Feels! #All the freaking feels! #Love and Diversity win! #Best way to conclude Pride Month!

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 3

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 2 🟣 Part 4

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, Mentions of blood, biting, p-in-v sex, fingering and oral (f receiving), ultra light bondage, some manhandling, kinky vampire stuff I guess. It's pretty straightforward?

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: In honor of the immortal exchange:

"Is today a good day for vampire smut?" "Every day is a good day for vampire smut." (Never allow two Nina's to have a conversation. Ever.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69

Your conversation didn't let you go for a few weeks, and one night with Mike, your curiosity got the better of you.

You were just finished with your shower, and back into your room, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, when you found Mikey already in your bed. Of course he looked at you, he always did. When you turned the lights off, he flicked the switch on the light on your bedside table.

“Mikey...” From the beginning of your relationship, you’d always told him to turn the lights off in the bedroom, and he’d never made a point of it. Right now, he looked slightly uneasy, as if there was something on his mind.  

“Now probably isn't a good time to tell you we can see in the dark, right?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” He was. Dead serious. “Mike! You should have told me!”

“Listen, again, I always thought you knew what I was and what I could do, and I only just realized that you always wanting to turn the lights off was because you didn't want me to see you. Which I think is bullshit, by the way, because you are fucking gorgeous.” 

“Mikey, I... Oh my god.” This was so embarrassing. Apart from a lack of knowledge on the occult, your parents had left you with some screwed up ideas about your own sexuality that you had largely sorted out in your best friends’ basements, but the remnants of the damage done to your body image were still very much alive in your brain.

“Just... Let me look at my favorite titties?” It was almost a plea. No, scratch that, this guy was absolutely one hundred percent begging to get a good look at your boobs.

“Dammit, Mike,” you said when he sat up and tugged you closer by pulling your robe.

“Boobies? Please?” He was on his knees on your bed now, and he was definitely begging, puppy eyes included. You thought about it for a moment. Somehow, the knowledge that he'd already seen you naked made it easier to make a decision.

“Are you gonna be good?” He nodded enthusiastically, and you didn't believe it for a second. Still, you undid the belt of your bathrobe and let the whole thing slide off your shoulders. Mike was clearly already pitching a tent, but he was more preoccupied with your boobs at the moment. His first instinct; dive in face first. You were surprised he checked the motorboating at the door, it seemed like a very Mike thing to do – alright, you knew for a fact that it was a very Mike thing to do, because he’d done it countless times before. Trails of hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses were pressed all around your boobs by a very eager Mikey who seemed hell-bent on exploring - and licking - every inch of your chest, until he finally made it to your nipples.

“I can turn the light off, if you want?” He said before you could even open your mouth to ask. And then you thought about it. It was obviously no use to hide from him, so what were you really trying to hide from? The ‘shame’ of having sex in the first place? You weren’t ashamed of that! You were crazy about this guy, and plus also; it felt good. You shook your head, and the thought of getting a clear visual yourself this time around actually excited you.

“You're making a mess, Mikey.” It seemed like you had taken that whole shower for nothing. The way he grinned back up at you showed you that he was proud that you let go of your hesitations.

“Am I now?” He very intentionally misinterpreted your words and brought a hand between your legs, sliding a finger through your folds. You were soaked, of course. A face like Mikey's between your tits left no one cold, especially if he worshipped them the way he could. “Do you like this baby?”

“Hmm, yes,” you hummed, gasping when Mikey's tongue landed on your nipple. “What gave it away?”

“Hm,” he wondered, “dunno. Could be the moans. Or the heavy breathing. Or - and this may be a bit of a stretch - this sinfully drenched fucking cunt.” Sinful… Just before your parents and their dumb ideas about sex and intimacy could worm their way to the forefront of your mind, Mike’s fingers brushed past your clit, and you forgot about anything that wasn’t you or him. Two of his fingers slipped in so easily you wondered if you should be embarrassed by it, but you abandoned the thought when he started moving them.

"Fuck, right there!" It was usually the only hint you had to give him. Mike knew what he was doing, and always did exactly what you wanted him to do, right before you opened your mouth to tell him what it was. It wasn't long before your legs threatened to give out, and he threw you onto the bed. His fingers found their way back with ease, and even a third one was met with little resistance. In a split second - using what was clearly inhuman speed, actually - Mike's face was between your legs and his tongue planted firmly on your clit. His mouth was warm, his tongue soft, and the sounds coming from Mike and the fingers that pumped in and out of your pussy were absolutely obscene. The result was just about the best goddamn orgasm of your entire life. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you until you were a trembling, sobbing, sweaty mess in Mikey's hands.

He came back up and kissed you. His tongue tasted of your juices and the taste incinerated whatever parts of you that weren't burning with desire yet.

“You,” Mike said in between kisses, “are amazing.”

“Amazing is the last thing I was expecting to hear,” you laughed.

“Well,” Mike grinned, “I wanted to call you my perfect little cockslut, but I wasn't sure how you'd react to that.” And then something inside you just clicked. Mikey was every bit as crazy about you as you were about him, and there was no need to hide from him – physically, mentally… You didn’t even allow yourself any time to wonder if you should be ashamed about all the things being called a cockslut did to you. Mikey could call you pretty much anything he wanted and you’d happily go along with it.

“Positively,” you said sincerely, “very, very positively. I'd probably have asked you to fuck me like one. But alas.”

“Hey!” He pouted, and you giggled when he did. Mike had a very strong talent for looking so sad you immediately wanted to give him the world.

“Oh, you want to fuck me like a whore? Go on, then.” You didn’t know what came over you when you said it, but it was kind of nice. His reaction was fantastic; eyes wide, he swallowed hard and squirmed in front of you… Mike’s soft hum turned into a loud moan when you traced a line from the dip between his collarbones, over his chest, and down the center of his abs until you reached the fabric of his underwear. You admired your squirming, lip-biting, excited, impatient idiot for a moment before you moved your hand.

“Shit... Shit!” You laughed as that second curse sounded a little louder because you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock. He rummaged around in the drawer of your nightstand. “Fuck! You're out of condoms. Fuck! Wait.” Before you had even registered what he said, or that he had left, he was back, holding a familiar looking box. He was in too much of a hurry to smoothly take one of the little foil packets out, let alone open that with any kind of agility.

“Give me that, you're gonna rip the whole thing!” You pulled the condom out of his hands and tore the wrapper off, flinging it somewhere. “Come here.” 

Even his step towards you was hasty and caused the so-manieth almost-accident. “Mike I'm gonna need you to show me you can move at human speed. I'm all for you fucking me into the mattress but I'm not a fan of internal bleeding and a crushed pelvis, capiche?”

“God, yeah, I'm good. I'm good.” Again, you didn't believe him at all.

“Jesus, Mikey, lie down.” He did as you asked immediately, grabbing you and effectively yeeting you on top of him. “Mike! You're going to give me motion sickness if you keep this up. Stop. Stop. Stay still or you're not getting any.” Judging from the look on his face, that was the worst threat you could have possibly made. Ever.

When he finally stopped moving, you rolled the condom on. Mike looked at you very excitedly.

“Please come here, please get on top.” The eyes, the voice, the eyebrow, and that damn lower lip that stuck out just that little bit that made you very aware of it – and also made you want to suck on it a little, maybe. You had no clue what possessed you that gave you the confidence to actually do what he asked – his face alone had never been enough. Then again, you had never been able to see it clearly, because you’d always fucked with the lights off, but still. You slowly inched forward on your knees until your pussy hovered over his cock. Mike ran two fingers along your slit again and laughed.

“God, I wish I could feel how wet you are,” he mused, which made you wonder...

“Can vampires even have children?”

“Absolutely we can,” Mike said quickly. “Us guys, at least. Condom stays on, I'm afraid.”

“Loving the sense of responsibility, Mike,” you said as you tried to contain your laughter.  

“Yeah, yeah, I'm super-duper responsible! Now, please sit on my cock.” How could you possibly deny a man who was so desperately begging you to screw him? Of course, you could play with him a little longer... Slowly, extremely, excruciatingly slowly, you lowered yourself onto Mikey's dick, stopping every time he moved. You were fed up with his impatience when he tried to use his hands to pull you down onto him, and a firm smack on each of his wrists put a stop to that behavior fast. He didn’t need to know that it probably hurt your hands more than it did his wrists.

“No!” He cried out when you lifted yourself off him again.

“Tying you up is of no use, is it? You'll rip my headboard to shreds before you behave.” There it was, the goofy grin on his face that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. You suspected he kept it under lock and key for special occasions, now, and apparently, this was one of those.

“Eh, I'm not opposed to trying?” There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he was a lot more than ‘not opposed’ to it. You grabbed the belt of your bathrobe off the floor.

“Hands.”

“Yes ma'am,” Mikey said. His grin couldn't possibly get any wider. You tied his hands together, fixing them to the headboard, and told him once again to stay still. The smile on his face told you he was absolutely just humoring you; he could tear the restraints up without too much effort, but he was really going to try to not do that.

“God, you're cute.” You positioned him at your entrance again and slowly lowered yourself until he was all the way inside of you.

“Fuck,” you huffed as you leaned forward instinctively.

“You okay, Sweetcheeks?”

“Yeah, you're just a little too big for me to sit up straight,” you gasped. “Wipe that cocky fucking grin off your face before I help you.”

“Sorry baby,” he said, “I just love hearing you talk about how big my cock is. Does something to a man.”

You shut him up by smashing your mouth on his, drowning out the sounds he let out as you moved your hips up and down. His tongue pushed past your lips and slid into your mouth, exploring eagerly while he moaned loudly with every move of your hips. He was almost aggressive in how he sucked on your lips - and even your tongue, which was an interesting sensation, but mostly made you laugh. His hips fell into the same rhythm as yours with ease. It wasn't long before you began missing the feeling of his hands roaming your body.

“Untie me.” How? He always – always – knew. Dammit. You did listen, but that was out of mercy for your bedframe rather than a willingness to do as he told you. Ok, there was definitely some willingness to do as he told you. Fuck, fine, you loved doing what he told you, but this had still been a fun experiment. His hands on your hips felt about a hundred times more natural, though, and you almost cried from joy when he started using them to effectively slam you down onto his dick as he snapped his hips up to meet your body. Soon, you fell on top of him, hardly able to control yourself as Mike railed you into the next century in a position that should typically see you in control of things. But fuck that, this was heaven.

Mike laughed before he fucked you harder, the so-manieth thing you desperately longed for but never, ever asked for out loud. Your moans became cries, became sobs, complete with tears - of joy - in your eyes, and you chanted his name religiously while he kept going. He wasn't careful today, you were sure you were going to be sore tomorrow, but it wasn't important. A that mattered right now was the way his cock slammed into your soaked, tight cunt, and the moans he let out because of it.

“Baby you feel so good,” he murmured softly into your neck, “you're so tight, so perfect.”

And then he asked that question, and you said yes, and before you knew it he sank his teeth into your shoulder. It hurt when his teeth pierced your skin, but other than that, it wasn't bad. His movements slowed down, and he carefully turned you both around. He ground his hips against yours, and you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensations of his cock deep inside you and the gentle sucking on your neck. It didn't hurt – at all. In fact, you felt quite the opposite: it was extremely comforting, and a wave of warmth washed over you.

“Mikey,” you gasped as you grabbed the back of his head, twisting his curls around your fingers, gently scraping your nails over his scalp. Soft moans were lost against your skin as he continued his movements for a while longer until he finally came.

“I think I made a mess, babe,” he said apologetically.

“Condom first, Mike,” you reminded him, and he immediately left the room to take care of that. He came back with a washcloth and band aids. Now that you actually watched his movements, you were convinced you needed glasses. Over the past months, you had blamed the fact that you seemed to miss half the moves Mike made on being tired, or distracted, or generally imperceptive. You genuinely couldn’t believe you had been able to convince yourself that nothing was going on…

“Let me...” He cleaned your neck, examining the damage he'd done. “Messy bite, sorry. It eh… It should be mostly healed in the morning.”

There was a funny look in his eyes you hadn't seen before. It was excessively worried, almost scared. He put the band aids on you carefully, asking you a million times if you were feeling okay - and you answered him a million times that you were feeling perfectly fine.

“Hug.” The way he said it didn’t remind you of a question, but rather of a demand. And he was demanding something he found absolutely necessary. “Hug, please?” You let him snuggle up against you, with his head resting on your chest, and you wrapped your arms around him. It was your compromise for making him the small spoon, which didn’t work very well because he was quite a bit taller than you.

“I love you,” he said. That was a first, but it was so incredibly welcome after all that had happened. A part of you was relieved that you weren’t the first to say it, the other part just fell more and more in love with him with every passing second, as you stroked his hair and watched him almost doze off on your chest. That was when it first hit you how exhausted you were yourself, and how strangely calm. Usually the throes of passion – for lack of a less archaic description – had you kind of worked up for a while, and unable to sleep, and you’d usually spend some time goofing around with Mike until you eventually got tired. This time, both of you seemed completely and utterly beat.

“I love you too, Mikey,” you replied, “let's go to sleep, okay?”

“Goodnight, baby,” he murmured into your cleavage. It made you laugh. That was Mikey summarized: sleep and boobies.

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

[ikeepwatchinghelicopters]

I enjoy whumping the bard, so here we go:

I imagine that Jaskier was quite squemish when he first started travelling with Geralt, but then he got used to all the blood and guts.

Now, imagine that Geralt went on a hunt and the camp was attacked by bandits. Jaskier tried to defend himself and Roach with a dagger (not that he really knows how to use a dagger; he just carries it around because if someone attacks him they are surely not expecting a bard to have a dagger and they'll be so surprised that it'll discourage them from attacking further (Geralt questioned this logic various times, but Jaskier never listened to him)), got punched in the face like twice, and then somehow managed to tumble down a small cliff along with one of the bandits (not like a steep cliff, more of a hill, maybe; the fall is very survivable). During the tumble, he managed to slit the bandit's throat or stab him in the neck (it's Jaskier's first kill). When they stop below the cliff, the bandit's body falls on Jaskier. So, up on the cliff, the two remaining bandits now have free rein to loot and take Roach and below the cliff, Jaskier is lying under a body of a man he'd just murdered. The bandit's blood is soaking Jaskier's clothes. Jaskier's nose and mouth are also bleeding copiously (from the earlier punches), so I imagine he is swallowing quite lot of blood since he's lying on his back. I also imagine it gets disgusting pretty quickly. He's battered from the fall (I don't think he broke anything, but maybe the bandit's body cracked some of his ribs and he has a sprain and lots of bruises). Suddenly a monster (perhaps a wyvern) attacks the two remaining bandits. Jaskier sees it flying over to the camp, so he ceases his struggles to get out from underneath the bandit and tries to act like he's also dead. Maybe the wyvern won't notice them then. Maybe it likes its prey alive (and Jaskier vows he will start paying more attention to whatever pieces of monster info Geralt tells him). The wyvern eats the two bandits (I'm giving Roach plot armor, so she survives uneaten) and then it turns its focus on the dead bandit and Jaskier. It eats the dead bandit first (probably covering the bard in more blood and viscera, because surely wyverns are quite messy eaters) and just as it's about to eat Jaskier, Geralt swoops in to save the day and kills the wyvern (his contract was actually for a different monster and he didn't expect a wyvern to be around). Jaskier is absolutely terrified, almost unreponsive and in shock. Geralt carries him over to a nearby stream to wash off all the blood and that night he holds him close (just imagine all the soft, caring, gentle Geralt you can).

Jaskier doesn't really talk about it the next morning beyond providing the most basic info about what happened. He doesn't talk about it (and doesn't do much talking in general) later either, but the next time he sees Geralt skin a rabbit, he promptly vomits and almost has a panic attack (I've never skinned a rabbit, but I imagine it's very bloody). That's how they discover that Jaskier now has a very intense phobia of blood. Looking at it bad enough, but touching it or even having a similar taste in the mouth is much worse. When he tries to help Geralt after he comes back bleeding from a hunt, he has a very bad panic attack. Jaskier totally hates his new phobia, because he cannot help Geralt at all like this. Geralt hates it, because he hates Jaskier's nightmares and panic; he hates the bard's pain and suffering.

I have little idea how trauma and phobias work, so I don't have the rest planned out in detail, but I think Jaskier would work very hard beating his fear of blood (mainly motivated by his desire to help Geralt). Geralt'd would support Jaskier along the way, probably having to curb his efforts sometimes, so that Jaskier doesn't make things worse. I like to imagine that Geralt'd invite him over to Kaer Morhen for one winter and the rest of the wolves'd help Jaskier with healing (after Lambert was an insensitive dick a few times).

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #fic idea #feel free to write the fic #sorry for the long post #tw blood #i guess

[artistsfuneral]

the amazing @spielzeugkaiser allowed me to write a lil story for the Catralt au! and it turned into a kind of origin story :D

- - -

As soon as Geralt heard the confused, yet somehow excited gasp, he immediately knew that the approaching footsteps belonged to Jaskier. The witcher crossed his arms defensively in front of his chest and stared down at his muddy boots. Like they had promised each other one and a half months ago, Geralt and Jaskier met up halfway to Elsterberg on a secluded road in the middle of the forest. And even though Geralt hadn't seen his bard in weeks, even though he had missed his friend terribly, he would have hoped for something, anything really, that would have kept Jaskier from returning. Just this once, just for a few more weeks, but Destiny didn't grant him his wishes.

Roach, bless her heart, sensed his bubbling anxiety and tried to cheer him up like she always did – by bumping her head against his shoulder. A kind and absolutely sweet gesture, but it turned out that in his current predicament Roach was much stronger than Geralt and the witcher nearly toppled over when she bumped against him.

He barely managed to find his footing again, holding onto her halter for support. She whinnied, as if to apologize and started sniffing at his hand, his unbelievably tiny hand. Although it didn't seem like she cared much, Geralt himself still wasn't used to the sight.

“Geralt, is that you?” Jaskier, finally caught up to them, was standing just a few footsteps away. His hands were holding onto the strap of his lute case tightly, knuckles white from the grip, something he only ever did when he was about to run for his life. It was good to know that the bard had at least a bit of common sense left in him.

Geralt pulled the rim of his woolen hat further down his forehead. The rough fabric made his ears itch and he grimaced. “Yes, Jaskier, it's me.” Still not looking too convinced, the bard squinted at him and took a step back. Geralt couldn't help himself, even if it was currently inconvenient, he was actually proud of Jaskier's distrust. “My apologize, it's just uh- hard to belief that you're Geralt, when you're looking like-” Jaskier trailed of, making a vague gesture towards Geralt's everything. The witcher shrugged, exactly this was part of why he had wished for Jaskier to not find him. “And what am I supposed to do?” There was nothing he could spontaneously come up with that could somehow proof to Jaskier that he was not a fake, a doppler or some kind of trap.

Though apparently his friend knew just what to do. “Tell me an embarrassing secret!”

“What, why?” Geralt frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest once more.

“Because then I will know if it's really you!”

“But- how? That doesn't make any sense, Jaskier.”

The bard grinned at him and winked, “Believe me, I'll know. So?”

Geralt let out a long breath and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to think of something to say. Maybe the thing with the dress? He'd really rather not tell that story, but if he couldn't remember anything else... Maybe something that Jaskier couldn't make too much fun of, he wasn't in the mood to get laughed at. After a long moment of silent pondering, the witcher finally decided on a secret and spoke, “Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde.”

Jaskier made a questioning noise and tilted his head to the side like a confused dog. “That's what I wanted to call myself when I first became a witcher. Sir Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde, after the book character. Vesemir thankfully didn't allow it.” The bard's eyes began to shine in understanding and a wide grin spread across his face. “Oh, that's absolutely hilarious!” Geralt's stomach turned, so much for not being laughed at. Jaskier gasped, “The songs I could have written if you had a name like that! We have to knight you, Geralt. Sir Geralt. Sir Geralt of Rivia. This is fantastic!”

The angry yowl escaped Geralt's throat before he could stop himself.

Jaskier's whole body went rigid and his brows knitted together. When he met his witcher's eyes again, he at least pretended to look sheepish. “Right, yeah. We can think about your knighthood after we deal with- what exactly are we dealing with, Geralt?”

During their earlier conversation Jaskier had closed the space between them and now that he was addressing the horse in the room (more like the witcher in the woods) he knelt down on the forest floor in front of Geralt, so that they could be on eye level. Sharp golden eyes glared at him. “A curse.”

Jaskier let out a soft sigh, “I can see that, darling. But a little bit more information would be wonderful.” Geralt puffed out his cheeks and looked past Jaskier, not wanting to meet the bard's eyes when he finally admitted that it was Yennefer who cursed him.

“Yennefer?” Jaskier's voice went up a few octaves, “But what on earth would she accomplish by turning you into a child?”

“I'm not a child,” Geralt gritted out.

“Geralt, you are absolutely tiny, you barely reached up to my hip when I was standing just a moment ago.” The witcher rubbed his hands over his face once more, a gesture that probably looked way more adorable in his current state, then it did usually. “I'm not a child,” he repeated himself, words slowly feeling foreign against his tongue. He mumbled something without rhyme or reason and took a frustrated breath.

Jaskier immediately seemed to notice. “Words, please. Geralt?” He held out his left hand in support, but the witcher was already feeling vulnerable enough as it was, so he shook his head and Jaskier's hand fell back on his knee.

The witcher looked away, eyes roaming over the trees around them. The dreadful realization that he couldn't protect Jaskier in his current form slowly seeped into his bones. “She tried to turn me into a cat.”

“A cat? Has Yennefer ever seen a single cat in her entire life? You look like a child, dear heart, why would you think that she wanted to turn you into a cat?”

Geralt let out a long, suffering sigh and pulled the woolen hat from his head. Jaskier's eyes went huge and he slammed his hands in front of his mouth, trying to conceal the squeal that build up in the back of his throat. Geralt winced and pulled up his shoulders, as if he could hide the fluffy cat ears that sat flat against his head. “Oh Melitele's tits, you're adorable,” the bard whisper-shouted, still openly staring at his friend. To Jaskier's utter delight did Geralt's cat ears start to twitch. The witcher could see that Jaskier was itching to reach out, to touch and feel for himself and he was more than thankful, that the bard didn't. Geralt still needed a bit longer to overcome the anxiety that rumored in his guts and tightened his chest. At least Jaskier found him cute, which was not ideal, because nothing about Geralt was cute, but it also meant that Jaskier wasn't put off or even disgusted by him. That would have been the worst case scenario.

“So what do we- Can we break it, I mean it's a curse, right?” Jaskier asked, thought already running wild. Geralt shook his head, cat ears adorably flickering afterwards. “Yen said there's nothing she can do. I uh- When she cast the spell I ran away before she could finish, That's why I ended up like this. The spell wasn't meant to last long, it will wear off by itself.” Jaskier hummed once Geralt was done with his explanation.

“Well alright then,” the bard said confidently, “We'll just continue as we always do, shall we?” He stood up and cleaned the dirt from his knees. “Maybe wear your hat, though. A bard and a child look way less suspicious than a bard and a cat,” he added with a wink.

With the weight finally off his chest, the witcher let out, what could only be described as a pouting huff and pulled the woolen hat back over his ears. He had worried for nothing. Of course Jaskier would only see the good in a situation like this. It was Jaskier.

“I do have to say though,” Jaskier continued as he straightened his lute on his back and picked a dry leaf from his doublet, “You would have made an adorable cat, my dear.” The witcher glared at him. “I am not adorable.”

His friend grinned, “Oh you absolutely are.” Geralt rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the road in a clear sign that he wanted to continue. “Are you not going to ride Roach?” Jaskier asked in confusion when the witcher started walking ahead, leading the horse by her reigns. Geralt gritted his teeth, “No.”

“Why not?” The glare that was send towards the bard would have send anyone else running over the hills, but Jaskier simply grinned down to where Geralt was walking next to him, trying his hardest to keep up with the bard's wide steps. “She's too tall, I can't get up.”

Jaskier's barking laughter rang through the forest and drowned out the angry hissing that came from a cat-turned witcher.

.

Thank you for reading!

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #spielzeugkaiser #geraskier #hinted but alas #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier the bard #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher fanfic #the witcher au #the witcher fanfiction

[some-stars]

Geralt's kink - making tender love to his bard, soft and sweetly. Hes absolutley devoted to the bard, who sees Geralt in his entirety, and knows Geralts dark history. Jaskier unbelievably still loves him, body and soul. There is no way that Geralt is ever letting him go. He tries to show Jaskier through sex, the only way he knows how.

this prompt has been sitting here for a MONTH and i’ve been staring at it lovingly the whole time and tonight, writer’s block has driven me to finally actually write it. warning for SAP and also i guess explicit sex. Usual disclaimer that I can’t edit answers to asks or the readmore disappears so please forgive any typos, etc.

--

He doesn't always know what to do with Jaskier's love.

It's so obvious, so everpresent—in the way Jaskier's voice brightens when he sees Geralt for the first time in a while, the way his whole body lights up and turns toward Geralt like a sunflower no matter where they are or what he's doing. It's in the soft way Jaskier talks to him at night under the stars, murmuring inconsequential nonsense about songs and stories and constellations and where they should head next, the slow contented thump of his heartbeat underlying all his words. It's in the careful way Jaskier touches him when he's wounded, the trembling hands dragging him back to camp accompanied by a steady stream of curses, or the surprisingly steady fingers smearing salve on his gashes and cuts and bandaging him as they sit side by side on their bed at an inn. It's in the genuine umbrage Jaskier takes whenever an alderman cheats Geralt out of his full pay, or an innkeeper turns them away at the sight of his golden eyes, and the way if Geralt lets him get one too many drinks in him he's liable to start a bar fight he can't even remotely finish at the first "damned witcher freak" he hears.

It's in everything, the way Jaskier loves him; it always has been, and Geralt...doesn't know how to be loved. He grunts when Jaskier talks to him, he mutters awkward thanks when Jaskier patches him up, he can't always manage to let himself smile when they reunite. It shames him, how little he can give Jaskier in return for his seemingly bottomless font of love; it shakes him, how much he's come to need it anyway—to depend on it, in the long months when they're apart, in the cold winters when he's trapped pacing Kaer Morhen with his brothers wishing he'd had the courage to invite Jaskier this year at last.

Geralt doesn't know how to be loved, and so it was a relief when Jaskier finally—heart thumping in his chest like a panicked rabbit—finally kissed him, a desperate hard kiss, and fast, like he didn't think he'd get away with it for long. Because this, this, he understands. This doesn't ask for words, or smiles, or anything except his attention, and he's happy to give it; except his gentleness, which he so rarely has opportunity to use.

From the stories Jaskier's shared of his countless tumbles, Geralt knows he does things differently with them. He knows sex can be wild and rough, frantic and fierce, and all the more fulfilling for it. But he doesn't want to be mistaken. If this is the only way he can respond—if this is the only answer he can give to Jaskier's steadfast, overflowing love for him—then he will be careful.

This time, like so many times before, he eases Jaskier's doublet off his shoulders, and sets it on a chair. He dips his head down to kiss at Jaskier's throat, worrying the tenderest spots gently with his teeth until Jaskier lets out a long, pleased sigh and tilts his head back, offering up more skin to be kissed. Geralt leans him back gently against the bed, licking and sucking lightly at the spot just under his ear that drives him wild, as he untucks Jaskier's undershirt and slides his hands up under it through the thick dark curls there, feeling for Jaskier's heartbeat, feeling every quickening breath.

"Darling," Jaskier breathes, and they kiss, Jaskier nibbling at his bottom lip the way he knows Geralt likes. He knows so much now; they've learned each other so well. They kiss until Geralt pulls away and pushes Jaskier's shirt up around his arms, a silent request; Jaskier wriggles out of it and raises his eyebrows until Geralt does the same with his own.

Like this Jaskier looks so much more than in his usual attire, the full breadth and strength of his shoulders exposed, and the soft hair on his chest inviting Geralt to rub his face in it, breathing in deep the scent he loves more than any other in the world. He thinks, and knows he could never say, that the smell of Jaskier's body is the closest thing he has to a home anymore; that he cannot be at home without it.

They've done everything imaginable with each other by this point. Some nights Jaskier rolls Geralt over and presses up against his back and fucks him, or slicks up Geralt's thighs and fucks between them, murmuring soft words to him all the while, pressing kisses to the back of his neck. Those nights might be Geralt's favorite, when nothing escapes his mouth but moans and rough pleas and Jaskier somehow hears him anyway, when he can abandon himself to being used and pleasured and cherished. But tonight—

Winter is coming soon enough, and Geralt hopes he'll be able to ask Jaskier to come with him this time, and knows he won't, but he can show Jaskier, if he can't do anything else. He can work Jaskier's trousers and underclothes down, taking care not to damage the fabric, and drape them over the chair with his doublet so they don't wrinkle. He shucks off his own trousers in haste, and his underclothes, and then Jaskier is naked and smiling up at him, not reaching for Geralt anymore but just lying sprawled and loose and beautiful, because of course he understands what Geralt wants tonight. That Geralt wants to take care of him.

He kisses down Jaskier's chest, one hand entwined in Jaskier's and the other tracing little patterns through his curls, over his skin. Jaskier's cock is already halfway to standing by the time Geralt reaches it, and Geralt takes him into his mouth, eager to feel him swell and harden. He sucks gently, his free hand carefully cupping Jaskier's balls and gently stroking them, and before long his mouth is truly full, enough that he has to carefully relax his throat around the welcome intrusion. He moves up and down steadily, working his tongue over the tip when he comes up, swallowing around Jaskier's cock when he goes down, until Jaskier is babbling and then until he's moaning, past words, hips trembling and jerking  in little motions he can't hold back. He's squeezing Geralt's hand, equally unwilling to let go, and when Geralt finally pulls off with a slick wet sound he shudders all over.

"Want you in me," he moans, "please," and Geralt wants nothing more than to comply. The oil is on the nightstand, and Jaskier's legs spread easily when Geralt pushes them open and back. He knows Jaskier can take him without preparation, after all the times they've done this, but he fingers him anyway, just for the pleasure of it, for the sounds he makes, high and quavering, as Geralt probes for the best spots, slides in and out, rubs the slick pads of his fingers over Jaskier's open hole just to tease before finally sliding an oil-slick hand over his cock and lining himself up.

"Please," Jaskier is panting, sweat beading on his brow already as he stares up at Geralt with utterly unguarded eyes, "please, please—" and Geralt gives him what he wants, presses in slowly, carefully, more careful than he needs to be just for the pleasure of being careful. Jaskier whines and squirms until Geralt is as deep as he can get, their hips joined, Geralt bent over Jaskier close enough to kiss, sharing shallow frantic breaths.

Geralt doesn't kiss him, but he does rub his face against Jaskier's like a cat as he starts to fuck him, slow deep strokes that jar him up the mattress each time. Jaskier moans loudly each time Geralt drives home, each thrust shaking another raw noise from his lips, and it's only a minute later that Jaskier's breathing picks up and the flush on his throat spills up to his face and ears, and Geralt knows he's close.

He sits back enough to get a hand between them and watches Jaskier's face intently as he strokes him, steady and firm, watches the way Jaskier falls utterly to pieces, defenseless, and comes with a loud high cry in Geralt's hand, squeezing tight and rhythmic around his cock. Geralt fucks him through it, knowing better than to stop, but when Jaskier is finally shivering through the last of it and gulping for breath, he slows to a stop, not pulling out but not moving.

"Okay?" he says—almost a whisper—and waits for Jaskier's loose, lazy nod before moving again. He knew it would be; knows Jaskier loves to come on his cock and then get fucked through the aftershocks, limp and pliable and overwhelmed with almost too much pleasure. But he asks anyway, because he wants to be told yes.

So Geralt keeps fucking him, bent over as close as he can get, the hand that's not holding him up tracing shapes on Jaskier's face as he drives himself closer and closer. Jaskier talks to him, when they're like this, when he's come and Geralt hasn't. Tells him how beautiful he is, how good he is to Jaskier, how kind and gentle and loving, and Geralt is always too close to the edge to protest. He can't even close his eyes against it, because he needs to see Jaskier—needs to see his fill, store up the memory of his blissful slack face, his dilated pupils, the deep red stain of his flushed skin, the way his lips shape the words that undo Geralt utterly, finally, as his thrusts turn fast and frantic and he finally comes into Jaskier's welcoming body.

When it's over, he slips out as gently as he can and lies down, and lets Jaskier wrap his arms around him, tentatively—every time—wraps his own arms around Jaskier, never quite sure that he'll fit. He always does, though. They fit together very well.

#the witcher #my fic #prompt fills #Anonymous

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

WIP Game of Shame: okay first of all, how am I supposed to only pick a couple because these all sound AMAZING.

Jaskier's goin conspiracy board on his past life

Small god of Kaer Morhen

Hey There Cirilla

Viper!Jaskier

okay now that I'm not mobile I can touch on all this. :3

Jaskier's goin conspiracy board on his past life:

I think in this case you get an excerpt. :3

"He's definitely your ancestor or something!" Maddie told Jaskier with a laugh as she snapped a picture of him posing in front of the large portrait in the Novigrad Art Museum.

"I wish," Jaskier said with a laugh once she'd lowered her phone to post it online. "No one in my family history could ever have been this cool, we'd have long droning stories about them."

They'd come to the museum to get some pictures of themselves with the art, to prove they'd been so they could get extra credit in their art history class, and tucked into some little alcove of the labyrinthine exhibit they had found it. A portrait of a handsome nobleman posing dramatically as his sword pierced the heart of... probably a wyvern. Jaskier had never managed to remember the difference between them and dragons, even if dragons didn't exist anymore and wyverns were still out there, though they were rare. The man looked like Jaskier if he were about ten years older and grew a goatee, which had delighted both of them.

"Maybe it'll go viral and I'll get to be famous for like five minutes," he mused wistfully, while Maddie looked closer at the painting. It had been among a number of works found in an underground storeroom during a construction project years ago, painstakingly restored, and now finally on display in this "art of Medieval Novigrad and Oxenfurt" exhibit.

small god of kaer morhen:

So this is a fic about if a spirit were attached to Kaer Morhen that was essentially like... the guardian/patron of it and the wolf witchers? And I maybe used a conlang builder to make two different conlangs for it and if I ever actually write it I think ppl will enjoy it :3

Hey There Cirilla:

Dadskier! aka the modern AU where Jaskier is Ciri's very loving but kinda deadbeat dad, Yen basically raised her, and both Ciri and Jaskier get ADHD diagnoses and treatment. Jaskier's not REALLY a deadbeat, he's got untreated ADHD and depression, and knew when he was 19 and found out he'd knocked Pavetta up and Pavetta was dead that he wasn't in a position to raise his daughter in a way that would give her the stability and opportunities she deserved, and so he and Yen (her godmother) decided it was best if Yen raised her and Jaskier just visited sometimes, but now Ciri's having trouble in school and needs her dad and Jaskier's determined to figure out how to do better for her.

Features enemies-to-lovers (sorta) Geraskier, bc Geralt initially is under the impression that Jaskier actually IS a deadbeat dad and finds that unacceptable.

Viper!Jaskier:

aka by god still am, my beloved. That one AU where Jaskier was a witcher the whole time but had no memory of it. It was the first proper fic I started in Witcher fandom, and ONE DAY I WILL FUCKING FINISH IT GDI.

#askbox meme #writing about my writing #the witcher #geralt #jaskier #ciri #yennefer

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Dress Codes,Nooky And  Cock Blocks

Masterlist

Henry tries to be a white knight and realizes Kal is to smart for his own good.

Request/Prompt: Henry and Kal meets you from work after having a bad day. Playing with Kal to make Henry jealous. Shutting kal out for some nooky but Kal sits outside the door barking and howling.

Warnings: Smutty Almost Smut! Fluff, Swearing

A/N: so this has combined two ideas one of which is from the lovely @being-worthy This was going to be a Pooh bear chapter two but hasn't quite fit the bill. Anyway I hope you all enjoy.  P.S I 100% belive Kal would be a little shit!!!

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​ @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen​ @sofiebstar​ @thefangirlsblog​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @loserrlauraa​ @tumblrnewby​ @isitmine​ @tinabean37​

This was a fucking piss take your manager was an asshole! You huffed about the office still trying to process the stupidity he just fucking spouted at you. You moved to the ladies room phone in hand ready to vent locking yourself in a stall fingers poised to rant in a long ass text message but you froze. Henry was home well at the gym to be more specific. He was over the moon having just snagged the role of Geralt of Rivia and had been working tirelessly on bulking up for the role especially now that he was getting the dates for shooting. You paused taking a deep breath. No. You cant vent to him and ruined his day to. You growled and moved leaving the bathroom slamming the door thankful that you only had another hour, at least the prick had the decency to wait until the end of the day.

You through your phone down into the bag sitting at your desk for a few moments. You cast your eyes over the computer screen seeing the little bimbo...His little bimbo Stacey there was an office romance between your asshat of a manager and this little blonde. She ran about the office in small tight skirts hair immaculate and thick makeup smeared across her face and fuck me glasses that were an accessory not prescription like yours. She had a snug fitted blouse and pencil skirt on flitting about the office in some dangerous looking heels. More feminine? Was you supposed to jump up and say 'yes sir of course Sir, anything to keep this job sir' then flutter your lashes at him?.

Fuck that, and fuck this be more feminine bullshit, there was no written dress code and as far as things had gone you were doing your job pretty damn well and you didn't need heels to do it!

You scowled seeing the blonde slip out followed by your manager it mus be time fore their discrete get away a make out in the copier room...How original. You sighed clicking your mouse scanning through the next lot of appointments...No more today but there was a shit tonne tomorrow. You sighed getting down...Was your job really on the line over skirts,  makeup and heels? Sure you were on probation but they couldn't sack you for breaking a non existent dress code...Could they.honestly you wouldn't put it past Dave he seemed to have some fucked up traditional views.

Your attention was quickly drawn down to your phone buzzing you smiled seeing it was Henry quickly tapping the notification.

'Bbe you still at the office?? Miss you! 😘😘' You smiled softly heaving a deep breath then began typing.

'Yep still here not for long though finish in 1hr thank god 😘😘 u 2 at the gym still??' You sent the text and got a reply pretty quick you smiled he must have left the gym to reply so quick. Your thoughts wandered a daydream of the huge glorious man puffed out and sweaty ugh yes that's what you needed right now your man to just ruin you fuck the stress and doubt right out of you!. Your eyes scanned the new text he had sent pulljng you out of your raunchy thoughts.

'No just left walking Kal around the park he got a bit excited need to wear him out, so have a good day?'

'😂 good luck with that. And its been okay...G2g shopping after apparently I need to dress more feminine😒😒 so will be home late' You frowned hearing the two love birds enter the office again wrapped up around one another professionally you rolled your eyes as the blonde pulled away from your manager giggling and made her way to the computer opposite you instantly reaching for her compact mirror trying to correct the smeared lipstick across her face. Your phone pinged and you looked down face lighting up a little seeing the anger emojis. Henry felt the same ass you.

'😡😡🤬WTF? wats tht sppsd 2 mean?' you cringed maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut but it was too late now you sighed trying to placate him.

'I need to wear skirts and shit...be an office bimbo no big deal🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just get a few skirts thts all' you typed back his reply was immediate almost as if he'd been typing the same time as you. Wincing you prepared yourself for the worse, Henry was a very protective man and you knew he hated the whole gender roles thing.

'😡😡You dnt need makeup and shit!! ur gorgeous dnt u listen to that wanker!! Can't u leave early?? Say ur going shopping?? Just get out of there! please love dnt let this get 2 u!!🥺🥺 I love u, ur perfect!!😍😘😘😍' You grinned got flushing rereading the words a warmth in your chest. You knew that he meant every word. Stacey looked over with a smirk snapping the compact shut and pointed a false nail in your direction.

"Oh? Is that a blush? Who are you texting? Someone cute?" You flicked your eyes up to her you didn't have anything against her per say but you were different people, she was all Instagram, kardashians and trending and you were all gaming, books and cosy pajamas. You never really spoke to her if you could help it.

"Err yeah...My boyfriend" you admitted looking down seeing another text from him. Another round of compliments and reassuring words lit up your screen.

'I mean it bbe I know u! dnt beat urself up over it! Dont u let him get 2 u!😘😘' you smiled softly yes he did know you and he knew this had not only made you angry but also insecure. You thought you looked good at work you always made a point to look 'put together' but it wasn't enough?

"Ooo was that him again? You never told me you had a boyfriend! Is he new? How long have you been together? What does he do? Whats he saying!?" You gulped as she got up quickly scuttling around the desk as fast as she could in her heels and skirt.

"We've been together a few years...He's just asking me to leave early and catch diner with him but I don't think Dave would like that..." Stacey's face lit up and she beamed at you. She was happy to have something else to gossip about.

"Oh! that’s so sweet~ he wants to steal you away for dinner! You know I wish Dave would do that but he only really pays attention to me at work....So does this sweet mystery man have a name?" You looked up at her tilting your phone away a little so she didn't see Henry's on going threats of 'coming down there and teaching Dave some manners by ripping his tongue out his ass' you shook your head as you caught the ass end of a long text full of emojis...You sort of regret teaching him the meanings of them....Was that an eggplant in the middle?.

"Henry...His name is Henry and he's an actor" Stacey squealed cupping her face completely excited for some reason.

"Oh that's so cute! You know its always you shy ones that nab yourselves the boho guys...You know I always wanted to date the 'boho' type myself but never did, they were all to....Just not my type I like clean cut guys, you know ones who fill out a suit" You squinted what the fuck was she getting at? You schooled your features standing taller quickly and made your own little dig.

"Like Dave?" she flushed and nodded excitedly missing the whole sarcastic droll over your words. She clapped her hands completely missing the fact you were poking fun at the scrawny 'stud' sleazeball who Henry could easily snap over his thigh if he wanted to.

"Yes just like my Dave~! Ugh anyway do you have a pic...Come ooon! Let me see your man~" you sighed tilting your head to her...She was pretty harmless...And dippy so it shouldn't do any harm she didn't strike you as the type of person to watch Henry's movies so shouldn't recognize him. You nodded sweetly it was actually a little fun you rarely got to show off your man,  most people who knew him knew you were dating. You twisted the phone eying the screen and froze seeing the last texts he sent you whilst you spoke to Stacey.

'Have you got out early??🧐🧐'

'Babe don't ignore me!😤😤 Is he still there!?😡'

'Woman you better answer me! Stop ignoring me bbe it wont help😤😤'

'Im serious y/n do I need to chat with him? Do you want me to help?🧐🧐'

'Look out the window'

"Oh hell no!" you huffed out under your breath then stood up scrabbling to the large office window Stacey followed you alarmed. You freaked and quickly opened the window poking your head out to scream at your sweet but very dappy boyfriend. As irritated as the texts were he didn't look it, well until you really looked he was tense and it wasn't just because Kal was puling excitedly.

"Oh my god?! HENRY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!....GET OUT OF THE GOD DAMNED ROAD!!" lone behold when you looked down you saw Henry standing there with a huge bouquet of Roses and a bag you suspected held a box of chocolates, Kal was barking up at you spinning in circles and jumping up super excited almost dragging the huge man over in all the excitement. It would seem the walk was not enough to wear out the bear. Henry grinned up at you you heard Stacey from beside you gasp.

"Holy shit is that your boyfriend??" you turned to her and smiled smugly to her nodding then glanced back down to him seeing him quickly navigate the people bustling around the car park heading for the doors. You froze. You can't let him up here he sounded angry earlier...He'd kill Dave. You ran back to your desk quickly logging off the pc and snatching up your bag.

"Where do you think your going y/n?" Dave called after you you stopped seeing him there arms crossed giving you the filthiest look he could muster seeing your bag slung over your arm then there was the distinct buzzing of someone Henry at the door trying to be buzzed in. You pointed to the door opening our mouth to fake sickness or something but was interrupted.

"Oh Dave leave her alone...All the times she's here early let her go early for once, we don't need her anymore today and it means we get the office to ourselves for an hour~" your eyes bugged out as Stacey came to your aid fluttering her lashes to your manager. He heaved a sigh and nodded to the door in a 'get out of here' motion.

You smiled quickly darting out down the stairs to the ground floor seeing Henry standing there unimpressed finger holding the button down in one long irritating ring. You shook your head at him through the glass as he held the button.

You slapped the exit button opening the door and Henry tried darting past you into the building chest puffed shoulders ready to give your boss a piece of his mind but you caught the frightening man by his ridiculous bulging bicep. You spun with him digging your heels into the worn carpet.

"No no no! Henry no!" he carried on to the stairs dragging you with him passing you the roses and Kal's lead as the dog bounced around you both yipping like the over excited pup he was. Henry had hoped filling your hands would give him time to jump up a few steps out of your reach so he could have a chat with Dave about this whole misogynistic bullshit. Henry swore when you scampered behind him hooking your arms around his forearm and leant back, if he moved you'd drop like a rock and up the few steps as you both were, you'd hurt yourself. He stopped heaving a deep sigh looking to you.

"Just five minuet's babe is all I need! fucking feminine my ass he just wants to oogle your peach of an ass!! And that's not- that ass is mine!! fucking no one NO ONE fucking upsets my baby!" Your body flushed skin prickling at the shear alpha tone the possessive growl that seeped into his words made you tremble swallowing dryly you managed to shake it off and focused on the task at hand fucking could come later for now you needed to stop him from ripping your manager a new one. You moved crouching down bearing your weight down giggling at him as he still tried to thunder up the stairs. Kal helped to pulling at his lead it was a joint effort.

"Henn love?! I'll be sacked if you go up there and make Dave piss himself! Please lets just go home it's Friday I can find a few things over the week end for now can we please leave" he stopped and looked up to the brown ceiling and flickering light sigh he clicked his tongue then looked to you slowly with a heavy breath.

"....Fine, but next time I'm having him!" you smiled finding his protective side arousing your tummy clenching just knowing you big strong man could rinse the little twat upstairs made your pussy clench you always had a thing about strong men and Henry was the most physically fit you'd ever met. You somehow managed to coax him out of the door in the direction of home taking a detour picking up a Chinese on the way.

You giggled rolling around the floor with Kal. after a quiet dinner and snuggle with Henry you had been ushered away so he could do his nightly reading of his new script.You didn't mind at all you loved seeing him so invested in his roles. you caught a glimpse of the red roses sitting proudly in a glass vase on the fireplace almost blocking the view of the tv but not quite. You loved this, just being home with your favorite boys enjoy a nice quiet night in. you scoffed mocking kal who was pulling hard on the black rope trying to out witt you with quick flicks of his head, playing tug with Kal was a workout huge as he was he had the weight and strength to out match even Henry. You did not stand a chance just holding onto the black rope hoping to slow him down but he was full of energy today.

Henry was sitting on the sofa feet up reading his witcher script pen in hand as he read his page, one a night was the deal. But honestly trying to pull him away from this particular script was a hell of a job fair enough he was trying to memorize lines and scribble down alternatives in the margins. It was sweet how excited he got, he already knew the character in and out so could already tweak things around so it felt like Geralt. He was happy had been chasing the role for a while so you didn't mind that preparing for it was taking up most of his time. but you were still horny from earlier and wouldn't complain to a night of nooky. But alas Henry was drawn in by the script and you were trying to find other ways to distract yourself from the bubbling arousal in your loins, like playing with Kal. But that’s not to say you wasn't going to tease your man, there were ways to get his attention~

You smirked putting a plan into action bending lower wriggling your ass, craning back so your shorts rode up just that little bit more. Then once in place you squealed loud gaining the mans attention as Kal tugged dragging you across the floor growling playfully bouncing his weight back jerking you around, it was only then that Henry grunted in annoyance, your voice had been high he loved you keeping Kal entertained he really did, but sometimes he needed a little quiet. Especially when he was trying to concentrate.

"You know if I keep this up I'll have bigger muscles then you~" you giggled out a you tried to hold your own against the mighty bear. Henry smiled and watched shaking his head as Kal dragged you under his legs to the free space on the side of the coffee table. As much as he was trying to concentrate you could never get on his nerves for long, he just loved you to damn much. Henry frowned as you were pulled again wincing anticipating an accident as Kal was definitely getting to invested in the game.

"Or a dislocated shoulder" he commented as Kal did another particularly painful looking shunt and shook his head side to side still growling loud around the toy. It was then that he looked at you properly and what he saw made the man pause and suck in a breath air getting trapped in his throat at the innocently erotic sight. Seeing you bent over any time was a pleasure but here and now? Bouncing deliciously on your knees being half dragged about the living room added another dimension to the whole thing. Your arms and back stretched out low on the floor spine arched slightly, sitting with your knees tucked under you, the bouncing making your ass jump deliciously.

Two full ass cheeks peeking out of you short shorts as Kal carried on his jerky movements. You bit your lip grunting and tugged back pulling with all your might successfully gaining a few inches which Kal stole back and more making you yelp and moan as you were sprawled out on the carpet again. This time dragged up on your knees into a position he he spent many nights enjoying to his fullest. were you doing this on purpose? he wouldn't put it past you...Maybe you needed a fuck, a proper fuck.

Henry couldn't help the twitching in his groin, the first tremors as he got a front row seat to the two perfect globes of your ass seemingly clapping against one another with the shorts acting like a thong shucked up your ass. Fuck you wasn't wearing Knickers again. Little fucking minx. He lowered his feet to the floor now far to invested in watching you roll around in the tiny shorts. swept up in the way your body swayed taunting him. you turned to him with a sly smile and sent him a quick wink that he almost missed.

He gaped at you, you were doing it on purpose!! His script laid completely forgotten on his lap as he watched you turn back to Kal innocently dipping down low again shoulders to the floor stretched out taught in front of you face tucked into your arm as Kal fought you for the coveted rope. God...It had been a while since he fucked you like that. He licked his lips. Too long in the busy days since snagging the witcher role he had only had time for a two quickies. Two fumbled quickies in three weeks and they wasn't even that good. Well not his usual hour long foreplay teasing and touching then good few rounds. They were just a flurry of fast rutting motion's, less fucking more jerking trying to finish as quickly as you could just wanting that high. he bit his lip watching you watch him out of the corner of your eye definitely teasing him.

"Babe come here~" You froze and twisted your head back you knew that tone.Grinning knowing you'd got your way you looked seeing Henry eyeing you hungrily biting his lip tilting his head, legs spread wide making his thighs bulge in what should be a loose set of black shorts but actually became skin tight on this Goliath of a man. You flushed under the gaze but managed to hold into the rope not giving the still pulling pup an inch. His eyes were a dark ocean blue pupils nearly swallowing the color completely, you wondered how far you could push him. you pouted at him before teasing him further opening your legs wider letting the material of your shorts almost completely disappear.

"Henry...I'm playing with Kal-" he squinted at you then quirked a brow before shaking his head snapping shut the folder holding the script and let it drop to the floor by his foot with a decisive thump. You gulped. But didn't move instead you heaved back pulling the Akita across the floor.

"Babe...Come here Kal's had his playtime..." you rolled your eyes hearing the silent 'now I want mine' sometimes he was a man child. You twisted your head to him with a flutter of your lashes and cheeky grin.

"Well I'm playing with Kal you have to wait your turn-HEY? HENRY THAT’S CHEATING!?" You yelped as Henry quickly bolted up right and stomped on the rope whilst using his considerable size and strength to pull you up off the floor making you release the toy.

"Well that’s enough playing with Kal, time to play with me. I wont be cock blocked in my own house by the dog~" you giggled as Henry quickly began climbing the stairs laughing kicking your feet, watching as Kal stayed two steps behind rope in his mouth excitedly following his parents, you were all going to play!. It was only when the dog found himself shut out of the bedroom did he realize you were in fact not going to be playing with him anymore tonight. you could hear the indignant huff through the door.

You wriggled as Henry fell onto the bed with you wrapped around him slowly devouring each other with deep kisses tongues and teeth roaming each other. It had been a good few weeks since you both explored one another properly. Henry pulled away chuckling at the soft scratches at the door. Kal was not impressed.

"Kal go lie down! We will be finished soon" Henry called out and ignored the high whines and more insistent scratching at the door and leaned over you sucking at your neck decorating it as he saw fit leaving marks of red and purple biting his mark into the crook of your neck then lower tracing a warm wet train over your thin shirt. You moaned clutching his waist trapping him between your thighs using the grip you had to rock up onto him trying to ease the burning in your core.

"Oh whats this? Someone is impatient considering she wanted to keep playing with Kal?" His voice came out as a deep rasp making you gasp cupping his face.

"You treating me with your Geralt babe?" He smiled latching onto your ear rocking down onto you drawing out soft mewls. You vaguely heard Kals whines become louder barks out side the door hearing the dog jump up pawing at the handle of the door trying to break in.

"Oh you like?~" You sighed quickly trying to rid your tshirt panting feeling just how wet your slit had got, you were embarrassingly wet considering you hadn't even done anything yet.

"Fuck yes~ oh god its so-ah fuck its so hot Henry~" he pulled back growling in the new low tone you hadn't known he was capable of, his large hands helped remove the tshirt throwing it across the room and latched onto your tits biting and sucking slow flicking his tongue across a pebbled nipple as his hands stripped you of your shorts. he chuckled seeing the damp patch, your arousal sticking to the material in one neat line.

"Oh you really do need me don't you love~" you nodded to him whining when he pulled back grunting a growl biting your boob and sucking harshly. You both moved in tandem rolling around the sheets grinding ,rocking ,biting and grunting both intent on ignoring the pup crying outside the door. He would wear himself out and get bored. Well that was the plan anyway.

Henry finally pinned you and descended on your core like a starving man given the sweetest fruit. You cried out fingers in his hair unsure what spurred on this heated frenzie but would happily indulge him. One thing you loved about him is he was always up for eating you out, the man thrived on it! He seemed to get a massive kick out of feasting on you until you came all over him. You grunted as he suckled on your bud teasing and twisting his supple lips across it Nipping you began to loose yourself panting and jerking up into his mouth chasing a sweet release you hadn't known you needed and then you heard it.

A deep loud echoing mournful howl. Even Henry stopped frowning up at you from between your legs. That was new, Kal wasn't a howly dog, he barked and yipped giving off the weirdest groans and moans. But never howled. You both burst out laughing unable to stop it as the howls were all over the place, loud and quiet raspy and uneven like Kal was an apprentice learning on the job.they were less 'howls' and more 'how-wo-wow-wo-wow' It was clear this was his first time but bless him he was trying to be the wolf of the house. You panicked as he began to get the hang of it and patted Henry's shoulder. he was still chuckling finding Kals new found voice hilarious.

"Quick stop him! If he learns that we'll never hear the end of it!" You chuckled pulling the thin sheet over you as Henry swore and quickly slinked off the bed racing to the door opening it stopping Kal in his tracks. The Akita smiled panted a few breaths thumped his tail on the floor then collected his rope entering, jumping on the bed without a care in the world.

"Babe?" You asked biting the inside of your cheek trying to stop the giggles as Henry began to scowl at the fluffy bear sprawling out on his side of the bed a flush building up his chest settling over his face. He cleared his throat.

You and Henry watched as Kal moved dropping the rope by your hand waiting for you to continue your game of tug. You flopped back in peels of laughter at Henry's face. The man looked amused and livid at the same time as realization struck. Kal, lovable cute baby boi Kal had just played Henry like a fiddle. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact your boyfriend, your chosen mate had just been outsmarted by a dog.

"Yes love?" He said none to happy with how things had turned out, here he was standing at the foot of his bed painful hard on and there you were naked and willing...In his bed...With Kal. This was not the plan.

"I hate to break it to you...But you've just been cock blocked in your own house by your dog....For a game of tug!" You giggled as you threw Henry's previous words back at him petting Kal who was still fiddling with the rope trying to make you grab it.

"No shit...Can we still fuck? I mean he can have my side! I'm gonna be on top of you anyway?" You gaped at him as he rounded the bed fulling intent on rolling on top of you sliding home. You held up your hand to him.

"Nope! No way am I fucking you next to Kal!" Henry ignored you crouching over you trying to lay you back down to finish what he started before being rudely interrupted by the Akita now in bed with his girlfriend.

"Oh babe why not? this is painful, look I'm going purple...Besides you started it its your responsibility~" he whined trying to bat away your pushing hands leaning in to capture you with a burning kiss. You dodged anticipating his next move, his kisses were always a sure fire way to make you completely melt and give in to him. you quickly twisted away throwing your legs over the side of the bed placing your hands either side of his naked hips, pressing him back as he still tried to gain on you. you swallowed looking up at him meeting his lopsided grin, trying to ignore the proud cock swaying in front of you almost tapping your heaving breasts.

"How about the shower? He's scared of the bathroom since his last bath?" Henry snapped his fingers and clapped face lighting up as he patted your hands slowly easing them off of him.

"Fuck yes! Babe you are a genius!" He moved over and kissed your face making you bat him away and then he turned to Kal wagging a finger at him.

"And you my four legged son are a pain in the ass!" You shook your head patting Kal as he tilted his head  he looked offended with his dads statement. You looked to the bathroom door as Henry's pert ass vanished around the door frame.

"Daddy didn't mean it baby boy~ you know how he is when he doesn't get his way...Just a spoiled man child~ he loves you really" Kal whined ears flattening  as he heard the shower switch on. You patted the dog with a sigh and got up padding across the bedroom to the en suit.

"Don't worry baby you stay there and daddy wont get you in the mean old shower~" you giggled scratching his ears as he huffed  in defeat. His daddy had got the better of him and the Akita wasn't pleased. He grumbled as Henry poked his head around the door frame wriggling his brows at you as you passed him getting a playful smack on the rear. then he faced the dog and stuck his tongue out childishly to the dog who huffed and turned around choosing to give you both a clear view of his ass.

#henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fluff #kal cavill

[teresa-of-ficwill]

Dead End Journey (or not?) - The Witcher

Summary:

When you fall in love with the witcher, things are never going on easy. Jaskier knew it. But what if you fell in love with two witchers? And also met a really gorgeous woman, who you can't get out of your head? It gets even more complicated.

However, maybe… Jaskier even likes all this a little bit. Or not a little? Anyway, time will tell.

CHAPTER 1

Jaskier was sure that something had gone wrong. Completely wrong. He had never imagined hanging around with a broken heart but there he was. Shattered to pieces. Rejected by his only one.

Actually, Geralt wasn’t his only one in common understanding. Jaskier slept with so many people he could not even count. Men, women… to him that didn’t matter. He was attractive, funny, and good at sex – people loved him for that. But everyone has to stop somewhere. And Jaskier thought he was ready to stop if Geralt was by his side. As a witcher, as a friend… and as a lover.

But his beloved man had always chosen another one. Yennefer. It was really predictable, to be honest, but Jaskier didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to believe. Yen… she is a bitch. But she is really attractive, hot and good-looking bitch. She treated Geralt like shit and he fell for that. Oh, what a shame. But, maybe, Geralt didn’t want to be loved. Maybe he just wanted to be controlled.

Jaskier was not sure but he actually didn’t want to figure it out. He just wanted to forget but it seemed impossible. So, he decided to just get drunk till he forgets his own name. Really good idea.

This woman… she was beautiful. Blond hair, nice smile, and drunk green eyes – absolutely his type. She wanted him. She really did. So, he let her hit on like he always does. Good sex can never cause a threat, you know.

She treated him well. Jaskier didn’t know why he noticed that but he did. She was gentle and slow, getting sure they both would have their part of pleasure. Usually, Jaskier is in charge in his one-night stands but this time he gave her a chance to take control.

“You didn’t ask my name,” she said, suddenly letting his cock out of her mouth.

“W-what?”

“You didn’t ask my name,” she repeated.

“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t be, dear. I didn’t ask your name either. My name is Jane.”

“Jaskier,” he said after a few seconds, a little bit confused.

“Nice to meet you, Jaskier,” she smiled playfully and continued sucking his dick.

The bard felt confused just for the next few seconds but pleasure made him forget about that pretty fast. It’s not too strange to ask the name of a man whose dick you are sucking at this moment, is it? Everyone did it at least once, right?

Then Jane decided to ride him. He wasn’t against it. She felt… good. Like any pretty woman. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it was really attractive. Sometimes Jaskier loves not to be in charge and just take pleasure given to him by someone else. It was a good way to forget. Not to think about Geralt and Yennefer. And – for god’s sake – not to think about Yen riding Geralt’s cock just like Jane rides his.

The picture went through his mind really fast and it was so disgusting Jaskier almost lost all his sexual arousal. But suddenly Jane kissed him. Gently but with passion. She didn’t kiss him before, they were just having sex, so it was all of a sudden but he liked it.

So Jaskier closed his eyes and imagined Geralt kissing him like that. Kissing while riding his dick. Geralt’s moans with his deep voice… the bard is sure that would sound amazing. Unbelievably perfect. Right.

Picture which went through his mind this time was so bright, so wanted, and inaccessible that it made Jaskier cum really hard. It was literally one of the best orgasms he has ever got. With close eyes, dreaming about impossible… the bard suddenly felt so miserable he felt himself about to cry. Fortunately, he managed to get a grip before he opened his eyes.

Jane smiled, fixed her hair, and got off him.

“Was it… fine?” Jaskier asked when she lied down by his side. He got so distracted with his dreams so he felt unsure if she got her orgasm.

“It was… quite good actually,” she took a cigarette from the bedside table and lit it with a match. “You gave me a chance to be in charge and I highly appreciate it. Most of the men are too afraid of the idea of being dominated. Ugh… boring people.”

“Yeah,” the bard smiled. “They’re just too afraid of losing control.”

“Like everyone, dear.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“So…”, started Jane, while lighting another cigarette, “It’s time to get to know each other better. It should be easier as we had sex already.”

“Is it really necessary?” Jaskier asked.

“Oh, you don’t want to?”

“No! No, I mean… you don’t have to do it just because we had sex. Quite good sex, actually, but it’s not the point. It’s not your duty.”

“Of course, it’s not,” Jane smiled and put a cigarette to her lips, taking a deep breath. “I never do anything I have to. Just the things I want,” she exhaled. “So, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How comes such a pretty boy has such a bad taste in women?” Jane asked, making the bard choke on air.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I have said.”

“Wait, I just… don’t understand. I've slept with you and now you're saying I have a bad taste in women?” asked Jaskier feeling confused.

“Yes. Yes, I do” Jane smiled. “You had known me for like two seconds and, when I proposed you sex, you agreed immediately”.

“But you are beautiful! Why should I have said «no»?”

The woman shook her head.

“It's not only about me, you silly bard. It's about every woman you have ever been with. I've heard about it pretty much. Rumors...” she pressed the end of a cigarette to her lips then exhaled. “They spread. Faster than you think.”

“So, you have known who I am when bumped into me in a tavern?”

“Not really. I was aware you look like this famous bard and you have a lute but I didn’t know for sure” Jane shrugged her shoulders. “Not before you said your name. But let’s return to the question I asked.”

“I don’t know what to answer. And what’s so bad about rumors? They make me popular among women... and men”, Jaskier smiled awkwardly. Actually, he didn't want to share his sexuality with his one-night-stand but it seems like he'd already done that.

“Do you think it's for good?”

“Sorry?”

“Being widely known as a good lover, not a good poet”, Jane explained. “Is this what you want? To be just another man who was quite good in bed and that's all?”

“Are you trying to insult me?”

“I'm trying to understand. And somehow prove you have a bad taste in women”, Jane chuckled.

“I do NOT have a bad taste in women. Stop repeating that!” Jaskier exclaimed.

“But it's true. You sleep with every woman who appears on your way. Old or young, virgin or whore... to you it doesn't matter, does it?”

“I think it... doesn't”.

“You are choosing everyone. It's not good taste, I swear".

“What's it then?”

“You should ask yourself, not me. But it seems like it's just... loneliness”.

“Loneliness?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Jane smiled kindly. “It's just loneliness which leads us in beds of strangers. We have sex and then we move on without even remembering their names. We break so many beautiful hearts of people who don't deserve it because ours have already been broken”.

She put the cigarette out and then threw it on the floor.

“We are living in a fucking nightmare”, added Jane quietly. “And destroy every person we touch”.

They both kept quiet for a while. The woman took a new cigarette from the box, stood up, and walked to the fire, giving Jaskier a great view of her naked body. She was beautiful and he couldn't deny it. But also, she was smart.

The bard didn't like to admit it but he always was somehow afraid of smart people. They analyze him. They look deeply into his soul without any permission and reveal secrets he didn't think he had.

“If we have this kind of conversation anyway,” said Jane, forcing Jaskier to look at her again. “Tell me... is there someone who you secretly in love with? Oh... and don't look at me like that, dear. I just wanna understand how many things we have in common”.

“No”, answered the bard immediately.

Jane smiled. “You're terrible liar, Jaskier. At least now.”

“Oh, well... there is someone.”

“Someone who broke your heart but you still love him with all the pieces, I guess”, the woman lighted her cigarette.

“How did you know it's him?”

“I didn't. It was just a guess and you proved it", Jane pressed the end of a cigarette to her lips. “So what is his name?”

“Geralt of Rivia.”

“Is it that man you always sing about? Everyone knows him as a White Wolf or something like that,” the woman asked, slowly returning to bed.

“Yes’.

“Oh, I'm sorry’.

“Why?”

“Because I know this kind of men. They are brave and lovely and beautiful... and absolutely insensitive when it comes to the affairs of the heart. He could accidentally break your heart and still don't know he did it.”

“Are you saying that Geralt doesn't have feelings?” Jaskier chuckled. “It's just a stupid myth about the witchers”.

“No, you didn't get it. I say that Geralt... ugh, I didn't think it would be so hard to talk about,” Jane looked at the bard before she sat at the corner of the bed. “I say that witchers are bad when it comes to feelings. They don't know how to love. They are not emotionless, they are just... inexperienced. I'm not sure it's the right word but still. They don't want to cause hurt. But they make mistakes and break our hearts just because they don't know how to do it right. And it is... the saddest thing I have ever understood.”

“Some witcher also broke your heart, didn't he?”

“Yes. And I thought I was fine until I've found myself hanging around and sleeping with strangers”.

“So, you think there is no chance I will be happy with Geralt?” Jaskier asked and it seemed like a very important question to him.

“Depends on you”.

“How so?”

“If you are ready to teach him how to love and let him break your heart again and again and again with his somehow stupid mistakes... well, maybe you'll have a happily ever after. I don't know.”

“You don't seem happy.”

“I didn't try. I’ve failed before I even started. But you can succeed.”

“You think so?”

Jane smiled kindly. “I'm sure you can. It's about patience... and love probably, but... you won't succeed if you aren't patient enough.”

“Are you still in love?” asked Jaskier after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Huh?”

“Are you still in love with your witcher?”

The woman smiled again but there was a pain behind her smile. “I wanna say I'm not but that would be a lie.”

“What's his name? Maybe... maybe I know him.”

She waited for a couple of seconds. “Lambert. He's son of a bitch but I had fallen for him without even noticing. And then it was too late.”

“What happened between you two?” asked Jaskier. Maybe it was quite inappropriate question, but he wanted to know.

“He cheated on me. And then again. And again and... He shattered my heart into pieces and I ended this relationship because I was nearly to end myself. I'm in love with him but he didn't worth my death. I still have some kind of self-respect, you know.”

“He absolutely did not worth your death. You're an amazing woman. You can find someone better.”

“As well as you, dear. But here we are, talking about our broken hearts.”

Jaskier wanted to answer something but he couldn't find any proper words. Because Jane was right and he understood that. They both can find someone who will love them, who will care about them, who won’t break their hearts.

Oh, no, it’s not right. Truth be told, it always was a dead-end journey and they still took it. They chose the most painful path. They made their hearts bleed, all by themselves. And now they have to pay the cost.

Jane took his hand, forcing Jaskier to look at her again. “Does it feel like hell when you think about him?” she asked.

“Yes, it does”.

“Do you like it?”

Jaskier swallowed loudly, “Yes, I do.”

You can find the next chapters here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364243/chapters/72132126#workskin

#geralt of rivia #geraskier #gerlion #lambert #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #jaskier/lambert #jaskier/geralt #geralt/jaskier #geralt/dandelion #the witcher fic #lambert/jaskier #geralt z rivii #fan fic #fic rec #fic #my ao3 #ao3 fanfic #глютик

[ahhhhhhdonna]

Summary: I really just wanted to write Jaskier getting locked up in a pillory!  Like this one:

And then this Yen and Jaskier fic just happened.(Warning for swearing, if that’s not your jam.)  Is there more to this? I don’t know.  For now, though, this:

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

High heeled shoes walked into his line of vision; beautiful, impeccable, without a single speck of road mud on them.  The hemline of a black dress in some expensive fabric.  Silk, maybe.  Or satin? Organza... If that was a fabric.  Didn't really matter, he thought miserably. What mattered was the insidious owner of said shoes and fancy dress was standing close enough he could feel the chill of her shadow and smell her perfume.

Somewhere above him, she laughed. Not a demure lady-like chuckle either, oh no, a real belly laugh.  Downright rude, if you asked him. He straightened up, as much as he could straighten while being locked rather piteously in a pillory.  

“You know, I was beginning to think this day couldn't get any better,” Jaskier said, amicably, “and yet...ahh, here you are.”

“Oh, Jaskier,” she said, with that tell-tale edge of sarcastic delight. It felt on his ear like a finger-nail catching in a pill on a silk coat.  “How did you get yourself into this little predicament?  Did you get caught fucking the alderman's wife this time?  Or, oh dear... did she catch you with the alderman? I know you aren't terribly...discerning when it comes to your pitiful little conquests.”

Jaskier's mouth opened with a huff before he snapped it closed, unsure which bit was more offensive.  

“I...I'm- I am discerning,” he managed, “and for your information, Yennefer, none of my...my conquests- as you so charmingly put it- would consider the encounter pitiful in the slightest....not that you will ever know...you...you could be the last woman alive, and I promise I would rather put my-”

“If your usual debauchery didn't land you here,” Yennefer cut him off, the smile still in her voice, “then what else would warrant such a public shaming? Was it your big mouth?”

He sniffed and went silent, fuming. He heard her long lacquered nails ticking on the wooden slat above his head.  One lovely shoe tapped impatiently.

“Well,” she said, after it was clear Jaskier wasn't going to be forthcoming, “whatever it was you did, I'm sure the punishment is well deserved... However, I do find it hard to believe Geralt would have allowed them to put you in the stocks.  He has a soft spot for your antics, no matter how stupid.  So, where is our witcher?”

Oh, wouldn't you like to know, Jaskier immediately thought but didn't say. Regardless of what Yennefer thought, he wasn't that stupid.

“Our witcher is not here,” Jaskier ground out, instead.  “He's on a hunt.  He picked up a contract here.  Actually, he's...well, he's... he’s missing.”

The tapping of nails stilled.  

“Oh, it's not like you're going to help,” Jaskier spat, “so why even bother?  Why don't you just portal off somewhere else and leave me alone?”

“Jaskier.” Her voice was quieter but impossibly more dangerous. “Geralt is missing?”

“He's...more late, really,” Jaskier said.  “He was due back three days ago.  I tried to tell the good alderman that monster hunting is not an exact art,  but...it was quite a well-paying contract, and Geralt was given half up front...and the alderman thinks Geralt has just taken off with the gold.  So--”

He waggled his hands in the holes beside his head.

“--they decided that since they can't punish Geralt for the alleged thievery, why not punish his faithful companion instead?  They locked me up this morning and I'm to be kept to the pillory until Geralt eventually returns or... or they tire of all of this, or I die, I guess.  I don't know.  On orders of the alderman.”

He swallowed.

“I'm rather...worried about Geralt, actually.  He's fine, I'm sure, he's always fine but it's not like him to-”

“-He'll return,” Yennefer said, decisively.  “In the mean time, I could free you but far be it from me to interfere with local politics...  I think it would be rather more interesting to see this sort itself out, don't you?”

“I knew it,” Jaskier muttered.  “I knew it!  Why did I even bother?..”

“I’d best be going,” she said, and he could hear her infuriating smile again, “Lovely chat, dear. But It does looks like it might rain.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yennefer listened to the rain pounding on the inn roof that night as she sat by the fire and drank mulled wine.  She tried to think of Jaskier and glean some satisfaction for his suffering but now, as the wind howled a bit in the rafters and the night's chill crept in, she frowned into the depths of her cup.

He was only human, after all.  A weak, stupid, annoying human, to be sure, who prattled on and on and wrote nasty songs about her and pretended they weren't about her when they clearly were. But...Three days late, he'd said. And Jaskier-for all his glaring and numerous faults- did harbor a deep and unyielding love for their witcher.  Her witcher, she thought, unbidden, and drank.

It had been a surprise when she had come into this blighted town and saw the familiar bard clamped into the stocks in the town square.  Another strange coincidence. Since their fateful and brief meeting in Rinde, she had run into Geralt on two separate occasions and now this... She had only come here to provide a service, a round of cures and magical remedies, to fill her purse for another dose of that probably useless fertility treatment with the cost of it ever increasing.  It was better to keep moving to different towns, she found, some were more friendly to magic than others. 

A town that treated friends of witchers so poorly might not have a high appreciation of mages either.  Best to move on, she decided.  In the morning then.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Yennefer cursed herself as her legs led her back to the town square, her velvet cloak enchanted to keep her dry as the rain continued pouring down and the mud pooled around her boots.

Jaskier was soaked to the bone and looking twice as pitiful as ever, bent as he was and trembling with cold.  When she approached, he contorted his neck to do his best to look at her, squinting and sniffling.  He looked as pale and red-eyed as a wet white rabbit.  

“Yennefer...I, uh, to... to what do I owe this... odious pleasure?”

Ah, he had been crying then.  It wasn't just the rain.  She bit back the worst of her responses- a decided act of charity, if there ever was one- and went straight to the point.

“What was he hunting then, bard?”

Jaskier blinked at her with swollen eyes. He certainly seemed no longer up to their usual verbal sparring and she was glad to not waste time.

“The alderman didn't know what it was, just that it smelled terrible and was killing villagers who wandered too far into the woods.  Geralt thought it was a rotfiend.  Should just take a day, he said, maybe two if it was hiding...”

“And it's been five,” Yennefer mused. Yes, Geralt should have been able to handle a single rotfiend in a leisurely afternoon.  And while the man could certainly be accused of moving on without saying good-bye, he would have at least returned for the payment.  Priorities, she thought, wryly.

“Nearly six,” Jaskier said and then his teeth chattered loudly enough that Yennefer could hear it over the din of the rain, like a tin cup full of dice. He once again tried to look at her, lifting his head an uncomfortable angle.  

“...Are you going to go looking for him?  Please.  Please, please tell me you're going to go looking for him. Please. If he's hurt, only you can...If anyone can find him, it's you, Yen, it’s you....”

“I'll look for him,” Yennefer said and watched the bard sag against the restraints with relief.  

“Thank you,” he murmured, in a voice soft enough that she was sure she wasn't meant to hear it.  She was sure he expected her to leave him there and, oh gods, did she want to.  Especially after his last ballad about the 'violet eyed siren of Vengerberg, with generous bust, who eats men's hearts for sport and lust'--  Ugh!  He deserved to stay here in the stocks, all ruined silk and wet lace and aching back! It might humble him and he certainly needed some humbling for all his lyric writing to the contrary.

But... Geralt would not forgive her easily if she left his companion to starve or freeze in the stocks and, fuck, if the thought of his disapproval didn't strike an irritating chord inside her. And if she was somewhat swayed by the bard's sudden spell of repentant gratitude, well...he'd never have to know it.  Bound and begging was surprisingly a good look for him, she thought.  And she was feeling absurdly generous this morning, so...

Yennefer made a little gesture and the thick padlock on the pillory unlocked itself and fell to the ground with a thud.  Jaskier startled and gaped at the fallen lock.

“You...you just...?”

“Come on, then, and don't make me regret it, Jaskier,” she said, in a tone she hoped implied that she already did.  “Lead the way.”

#donnawrites #witcher fic #Yennefer of Vengerberg #Jaskier #Hurt Jaskier #mentions of Geralt #Yennefer saves Jaskier #because why not #gratuitous switching of POVs #Yennefer loves Geralt #Jaskier loves Geralt #some version of this has geralt returning and going absolutely feral with rage #but that was not this version for some reason #instead they rescue Geralt together like the odd couple

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 5

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 4 🟣 Part 6 

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Mentions of blood, biting, vampire stuff.

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: Buttload of information incoming!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69

Elective courses on vampirism. Mind reading gifts. Vampires appearing out of nowhere. The strange urge to offer yourself up as dinner you hadn't been able to stop. The term 'blood whore' wouldn't leave your thoughts. Part of you wished Marshall had never shared that with you. And the suggestion that you play walking buffet for four vampires... Now there was something that definitely rubbed you the wrong way.

Thirty minutes went by quickly as you thought about everything that had happened, and not even a second after you caught yourself violently curious and longing for information, there was a knock on the door.

"Mikey told me to tell you that you don't have to scream," Sherlock said as he stepped into your room. "How are you feeling?" The question sounded less feverish than half an hour ago in the living room; he'd obviously calmed down again.

"I'm good. How is everyone else?"

"Gone," he said, "I told them to hit the road."

"Thank you." The last thing you needed right now was Marshall and Mike digging around in your brain. "Where do we start?"

"Curious, huh?" Sherlock asked. "That's good. I say we go through the topics, and you point out the need-to-knows?” Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea.

"I still can't believe I am taking vampire lessons out of necessity all of a sudden."

"I'm sure you can adjust," Sherlock said, "your curiosity is a perfect indicator for it."

"I mean..." You could tell you were beginning to blush. "It's definitely interesting."

"Certainly," he said. "Now, first of all; thank you. I don't think I've said that."

"You're welcome." You were surprised by how much you genuinely meant that. "How come you were in such rough shape?"

"I was away for research over the summer, there hadn't been an opportunity to feed for weeks. I used my last bit of strength to get home."

"What were you researching?"

"Oh, I'll need to talk you through four more courses to make it understandable." His tone was friendly, and it made you like him even more. He wasn’t a condescending dick, like August.

"Maybe later," you laughed.

"What do you know?"

"Mike and the others brought me up to speed on the garlic, how turning someone works, a little bit about the gifts. And your... Food sources."

"Alright, so the basics. And our version of 'the talk'." Yes, you confirmed, that was pretty much it. "Perhaps a basic rundown of what you are wouldn't be out of place."

"I was hoping that would be one of the topics, yes." You just hadn't been entirely sure that it was 101 enough.

"You have a right to know, but it might be a bit complicated. Some things I may not be able to explain today, I hope you can accept that without thinking of me as a condescending arse?"

"I'm familiar with August, so I'm no stranger to a little derision." Sherlock laughed at your remark.

"That's a fair point."

"Anyway, Marshall called me a 'natural', was it?" If you were this curious about your classes, you’d be a straight A student, you were sure of it. Unfortunately for you and your grades, vampires were a tad more interesting. Especially since you were apparently wired to be food for them.

"Yes."

"Because being a vampire snack comes natural to me? Or 'us', I guess?" You definitely sounded more casual than you felt about the whole situation. There was definitely a lot to talk about, a lot to unpack, and a part of you really just wanted to hide from it all.

"Yes and no. Let me..." He took a tablet from the bag you had never seen him put down in the first place, and pulled up actual lecture slides. "I am going to try to make this an A to B kind of story. I am also going to warn you I'm not very good at those. I probably won't have to tell you vampires aren't the monsters humans once believed us to be."

"Mike took care of that... It took a me a minute to get on board with that." There was no point in lying to him, especially since your education had seemed to be a massive redeeming factor up until now.

"You were raised by the opposition, then?" Sherlock chuckled softly.

"Very much so, homeschooled and everything." Sherlock raised his eyebrows upon hearing your answer, and commented on the fact that Mike had done a very good job at changing your beliefs about vampires.

"There's still a lot to unpack,” you said softly while looking at your hands. It was all strange and new, and you were long past the option of walking away and pretending none of this had ever happened.

"Indubitably." There was something heartwarming about Sherlock’s smile you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was a handsome man, slightly older than the others, though not by much, with a certain serenity to him that came with years – possibly centuries – of experience. How anyone was able to concentrate with him as a professor, however, you couldn’t figure out.

Somewhere along the way, your subconscious decided it was time to start asking questions, and pushed one to the front of your mind: "How did I become the way I am?" Sherlock patiently explained that you were born that way: It was an unusual, though not rare, mutation.

"What does it do?"

"If you'll allow me more than a single sentence in between interruptions, I'll tell you." Another charming smile gave you the weird urge to giggle – but you suppressed it.

"Sorry, professor,” you said jokingly, and he answered with a chuckle.

"As I was trying to say; humans and vampires have been coexisting peacefully for several centuries. Mike wouldn't even know of a time where they didn't, the rest of us have memories aplenty, and some scars for good measure.

"We made it this far, because we gradually developed a symbiotic relationship with your kind. Now, normally, these types of evolution take far longer than just a few short centuries, and to this day we don't know just what accelerated this change. It's especially curious because your kind is, as I pointed out earlier, quite unusual.

"Now, most humans who voluntarily allowed us to feed ourselves found it exhilarating, a thrill. Which was understandable because there was a significant risk of dying. There still is."

"Excuse me? Mike assured me that the only way to die would be if he… chose to…" Had he been lying to you when he said that dying wasn’t something you needed to worry about in your little experiment? You immediately felt embarrassed for asking. The details of your sex life were none of Sherlock’s business, after all, and you’d rather avoid this topic of conversation altogether – but it was too late for that, now.

"Ah, right. Bear with me for a moment, please? That relationship between vampires and naturals I described, tackles precisely that problem, and the one of the significant pain a normal human donor usually feels."

"Pain? There's no..."

"Not for you, not beyond the pain of the bite itself. For a normal human, even weakened venom would be painful. To willingly go through that would be indicative of serious masochistic tendencies." Sherlock also explained that this was precisely the reason that ‘unmedicated administration of bites’ – as he called it – was something usually reserved for erotic purposes. You appreciated the clinical, professional approach he took to explaining what was – in essence – more kinky vampire shit.   

"So when I offered without thought, you knew?"

"I suspected, and I do have to admit I was prepared to confirm my theory. Then I saw Mike's face. Marshall's commentary confirmed my suspicions. I'm fairly sure he got confirmation from Mikey's thoughts directly."

"And how does my… Condition… Tackle the problem of being drained?" Was ‘condition’ the right word? Existence? Nature?

"A fair question that's kept us occupied for quite some time. It wasn't a secret for long that some humans not only felt no pain when fed on, but also didn't seem to run out of blood. You can imagine what a commodity you were. Large sums of money were involved in the trade of your kind. You were stolen, wars were fought over you. Not to mention the crusades against you as much as us, because humans believed your kind's specific purpose was to feed vampires, and they believed that voluntary feeding was of the devil. They tried everything in their power to keep our feeding practices a crime."

"I'm afraid my family is still in that camp…" You shuddered at the thought of your parents finding out about your current living arrangements, let alone them finding out you were anything other than the perfect little girl they thought they had raised.

"Then I can't tell you how glad I am they never found out about your nature." Sherlock had an apologetic look on his face when he said it, and you decided not to push the matter, but it did make you feel uneasy. Luckily, it wasn’t hard to move on from the subject when the next question popped up in your mind.

"What causes it?"

"Right, the actual answer to your question. Your blood contains a chemical that, when it comes into contact with our venom, creates two other chemicals; one of which accelerates the speed with which your blood regenerates to the point where a vampire can't feed faster than you… replenish. Experiments have been conducted with two of us feeding simultaneously, and results showed it was not only dependent on the amount of venom in your system, but also a matter of habituation."

"Like… Breastfeeding?"

"An interesting choice to describe a basic supply and demand economy, but yes, and also very much no. Do you mind if we skip the technicalities for now?" He emphasized the fact that this would become a very lengthy conversation very rapidly if he were to explain everything in detail, though he didn’t want to put you off asking for further explanations, if that was what you really wanted. For now, however, you were good with the basics.

"If you bite me, I make blood faster, got it." The questions just kept coming, and you were really glad to not have asked for more details, because you were sure your head would overflow with information by the end of this talk, anyway. “What did Mike mean when he said he’d have to… drain me on purpose? mean, he didn’t know what I was at that point. Did he lie to me?”

“Ah, right. He didn’t lie. You see, he wasn’t feeding at the time. There would have been no reason for him to drink a large quantity of blood. Does that answer your question?" You nodded in reply to his asking. “Perfect. Moving on to the other chemical. That’s what is responsible for the… It’s been described as a ‘warm, fuzzy feeling’ you experienced during the… exchange. That one has an effect on us, too, if we take it in. It causes the overwhelming urge to take care of and protect you.”

“That’s what that was?”

Sherlock smiles apologetically. “Yes, it was. I’m sorry for not explaining it then and there, but it’s a very strong sense of protectiveness, and it had been a while since I’d fed in general, let alone from a natural. I was a bit preoccupied.”

“It’s okay,” you said, and you meant it.

“That chemical is also what made you so inclined to offer to let me feed. It was a rather strong urge, wasn’t it?” Indeed, it had been. So strong, even, that you doubted whether or not you would have been able to ignore it.

“And those things don’t happen when feeding on a normal human?”

“Indeed it doesn’t. We’ve managed to synthesize the chemical that serves as a painkiller and makes regeneration faster, which is what we now use to allow for safe feeding. But we haven’t been able to recreate the other one. Again, I unfortunately can’t tell you why. Efforts have been made. I suppose it’s hardly necessary to recreate that one, in fact it would be counterproductive to elicit that effect on purpose. Oh well…”

“So, voluntary feeders aren’t in pain, and you don’t have to worry about them afterwards. That sounds like a better deal than feeding on a natural.”

“It isn’t. It’s always better than feeding on an unwilling donor, or someone in pain – who isn’t enjoying that pain. But your kind have…”

“The a5 Wagyu of blood?” You couldn’t quite figure out whether or not that sounded like a brag, but it was out now, time to just roll with it.

“Exactly.”

"And feeding on another vampire? How does that compare? How is it even possible?" You were starting to feel awkward about your relentless curiosity, but Sherlock assured you that it was no problem whatsoever.

"Ah. We'll keep it simple. You know vampires drink blood."

"Obviously, I was lunch not even an hour ago." As if you could ever forget the most basic bit of vampire knowledge out there.

“Right. Logically, vampires can feed on anything that has blood.” “So vampires have blood?”

“Correct. Our metabolism works differently; it processes blood we drink and turns it into our own, which then functions as the fuel for our bodies. It’s as fulfilling as human blood, but the only way for us to come by more of it is to feed. We don’t make more blood. We also don’t taste as good. Alright, we taste very bad.” Sherlock laughed, and it sounded almost sarcastic.

“And human food?”

“That tastes absolutely fine, but metabolizing costs far more energy, because our system isn’t wired for it. It takes about five times as much food to sustain us than it does you.”

It looked like it was finally time to ask the question you’d been avoiding: “When Mike said you all hoped…”

“Ah,” Sherlock wasn’t surprised you asked the question. “When you said ‘McBloodDrive’, that wasn’t far off – conceptually. But it lacked a lot of depth and feeling. I understand your resistance to the idea, but would you allow me to explain?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” You tried to conjure up a smile – and failed miserably.  

“Good point. Where to begin… First of all; it’s like you said. You have the blood-equivalent of A5 Wagyu running through your veins. Can we at least agree it’s understandable they want a taste of that?” Alright, you couldn’t deny that without lying… “So part of it is a bit of jealousy towards Mike.”

“Mikey doesn’t… He hasn’t…” You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks again at Sherlock’s suggestion.

“He would have asked sooner or later,” Sherlock said, sounding fairly sure of himself, “knowing Mike, it would have been sooner rather than later.” Even you had to admit that that sounded entirely plausible.

“Besides, most humans get curious at some point. I mean. You did.” He made a vague gesture at your neck.

“Are you saying I would have asked him to feed on me at some point?”

“There’s a very strong possibility.” You had to admit you’d been curious, and as much as you hated to admit it now, there had been a part of you that had been wondering what it felt like if someone were to feed on you. Of course the events of this afternoon had satisfied that curiosity – but there was still definitely something inside you that wouldn’t mind doing it again.

Sherlock then went on to explain that these relationships were not just for the benefit of the vampires, but also for your kind. Adverse effects for you were minimal if not nonexistent – though in the olden days, a natural would have been expected to be available without question, at all times. You, however, still couldn’t fathom being anything other than…

“A McBloodDrive?” he asked with a sardonic chuckle. You shrugged. It was really the only thing you could come up with.

“You’re underestimating the nature of the relationship. They are really rather intimate – it’s inescapable. You wouldn’t simply be a food source. Dear Lord, how do I explain this… I can’t do this well, I’m sorry. I think I may need the others. Are you okay with that?” You nodded. Sherlock gave them a quick call, asking them to come back to the apartment before returning to your conversation.

“And… They were gunning for a steady thing, right?” The answer to your question was affirmative. From here on out, the questions that bubbled up in your mind were no longer coherent, the next no longer a continuation of the former – it was a mess, that was the only way you could describe it.

“Those… arrangements… are they common?”

“They are not. In fact, they’re quite rare. Many naturals capitalize on their assets, so to speak.”

“You can make money off it?”

“Oh yes. Quite a lot, too. Some of us pay good money for a steady arrangement with one of you.” He explained a type of relationship that was very reminiscent of a sort of sugar daddy type of setup – not something you were interested in at all. Others, he said, were just able to afford regular feedings from naturals, but the general setting for the establishments that offered those services was much more relaxed, more comfortable, and much more exclusive and therefore less crowded.  

“These arrangements… what are they like?” you asked when he explained all of this to you.

“What are you really asking me?” By now you had definitely learned that not much escaped this guy’s attention.

“Is it a sex thing?” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you asked your question, but you had to know. And you didn’t find it weird, either.

“Is that what this afternoon felt like?” You quickly shook your head. That definitely hadn’t been sexual, although it was absolutely very intimate.

“The intimacy is a given in the kind of situation you would end up with us.” He said ‘us’, you noticed, so he wasn’t opposed to the idea, either. He did express that there was a possibility that such agreements occasionally did lead to deeper feelings of intimacy between participants. It led you to question whether one of you and four of them would be weird, to which Sherlock answered that the other way around would be much stranger.

“Have you ever been involved in such an arrangement?” you asked carefully. Your curiosity was really getting the better of you, and you didn’t know if you could contain it any longer. “You don’t have to answer! I don’t mean to pry. If it’s personal, by all means, don’t tell me.”

“It’s alright, darling, it is personal, but I am more than happy to share the story,” he said. It answered your question; it was obviously a ‘yes’. “It was just over five hundred years ago.” That shocked you, and you realized you had never asked the guys how old they were. Your surprise must have been apparent, because Sherlock answered the question you had never dared ask.

“I am just under nine hundred years old,” he said, “Marshall and August a little over four. Mike was born in the sixties.”

“He’s just a baby?” Somehow you found that incredibly endearing.

“Don’t say that to him. August would be quick to agree with you, though.” Sherlock let out another one of his dark chuckles. The sound of them was incredibly soothing.

“Where were you five hundred years ago?” you whispered. It seemed like such a strange thing to ask.

“English court,” he answered, “serving as a court physician under Henry XIII. The first Duke of Suffolk – Charles Brandon – was one of us, and he had… procured one of your kind – don’t ask me how, I have no idea and I doubt I want to know – to feed on. For services rendered he offered me… access, so to speak. It was a rather clean-cut business arrangement, as impersonal as could be. He refused to allow me to tend to her, afterwards, which made it hard on me, occasionally.”

“How so?” you asked, wondering out loud what would have happened if you had told him to back off.

“Nothing would have happened, per se, but it is a very strong, uncomfortable feeling of needing to do something, desperately wanting to take care of someone, and not being able to. It soured my mood rather thoroughly.” He chuckled softly again, but the sound had a melancholic ring to it, this time. The memories clearly struck a chord with him, still, and you weren’t surprised at all when he changed the subject.

“The others will be back soon,” he said hoarsely before clearing his throat, “I suggest you take another minute, because this wasn’t the last long talk of the day, I’m afraid.”

#mike hellraiser fic #mike x ofc #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction