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#jaskier fluff
sylasthegrim · 9 months
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Jaskier x Radovid Snippet
Radovid notices the burn scar on Jaskier's index finger.
Spoilers for Season 3 below the cut.
♪ The first time Radovid notices Jaskier's scars, the man is seated across from him, fidgeting and trembling, ever so slightly. He didn't know a man used to perform in front of audiences, and known for his adventures with the White Wolf could appear so rattled. But he is -he seems shaken to his core, and his eyes lose their spark as he looks up, asking for the man he calls Rience to be eliminated.
♪ There is more than fear in Jaskier's eyes. There is something primal, an instinct kicking and screaming against a growing darkness Radovid cannot see, only imagine. He wonders what sort of magic this Rience is capable of wielding that would rattle a man's very bones this way. And when he looks down at Jaskier's long fingers, he sees the scar. The pad of his index finger is no longer smooth, instead is seems rough, and Jaskier traces the edges of it over and over again as his voice shake. There is something deeply nauseating to hear the voice of a singer shake.
♪ The scar isn't as rough against the skin of his cheek when Jaskier kisses him, and anyway Radovid is too surprised to pay attention to it. Jaskier's mouth is confident and his kiss is more generous than he would have expected from a lover of such reputation. For a man who seemingly has seen many beds and touched many bodies, each of his kisses is done with the tender carefulness of first embraces, and Radovid trembles under his care. There is passion in his kiss as well, and his chest swells with a feeling of freedom he has seldom experienced.
♪ Radovid trembles ever more violently as Jaskier gazes at him, his eyes glassy with pleasure as he rocks atop him, and traces the shape of his bottom lip with his thumb. Radovid kisses his finger and Jaskier presses a bit harder, prying his mouth open. His lips part on a breathless moan that makes Jaskier's spine shiver under Radovid's hand, and the gentle shiver morphs into a shudder when his tongue comes to taste the skin of his finger.
♪ A strange look cross Jaskier's features -they are so enigmatic in the moonlight, as he seems more vulnerable and more closed-off at the same time. There is a calm to him there wasn't before, a quiet contemplation that makes Radovid feel like he is being studied, consumed, and even absorbed through the pores of Jaskier's skin.
♪ The undecipherable look turns to pure lust and something akin to grief as Jaskier's index finger comes to trace the fullness of Radovid's bottom lip. The young prince doesn't hesitate, and his tongue comes out to trace the scar. It is rough, and it feels like Jaskier has been picking at the new skin, but the unpleasantness of it worth the look of absolute ecstasy on Jaskier's face.
♪ Jaskier's hips pick up the pace, setting a brutal rhythm Radovid can scarcely keep up with, his mouth opening on a silent scream at the prince sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth, gently, carefully, feeling the pad of it drag against his bottom teeth. Jaskier hisses through a grin that makes him look inebriated, and Radovid falls in love with this wild look on the bard's face. Gone are the pretenses, the artifices -all that remains is passion, and a connection he never thought he would ever find with anyone.
♪ Jaskier breathes his name like a prayer, his thumb pressing against his chin as he thrusts his finger in and out slowly, and Radovid feels like his lover is reclaiming something by this simple act, and no matter how erotic it is, there is a depth to it the young prince hadn't suspected.
♪ At that moment, the haunted look in Jaskier's eyes recedes, fades into the blue waters of his eyes. Behind his pupils, the water is so clear and pure, the abyss doesn't seem as daunting.
This little piece came to me after seeing this post by @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account and I knew I had to write something. It has not been proofread, therefore all mistakes are mine ♡
I hope you all liked it.
Please reblog if you liked it. Reblogging is how we keep stories alive on this platform.
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Would you care to dance, my dear?
Pairing: Jaskier x female reader
Summary: Jaskier has been invited to perform at a ball and has convinced the reader to attend with him, but she is uncomfortable - that is, until she sneaks into the garden for some air and Jaskier notices and joins her.
Words: 2.6K
Warnings: lots of fluff, reader implied to be female, close friends to lovers, lots of hugs and singing from the bard, mutual pining, reader has a lot of thoughts at the start but I promise there is heaps of soft bard fluff after!
A/n: So I was thinking about the lack of Jaskier fics with a demisexual reader, and came up with this. It certainly doesn't have to be read that way, but it was in the back of my mind when I was writing. The song lyrics are from Fair by The Amazing Devil, it's a beautiful song you should all go listen to. As always it's unedited, so apologies for errors. Hope you enjoy!
You hunched slightly in your seat as your surroundings continued to encroach on you. Loud chatter and laughter, the clinking of glasses, expensive shoes tapping against tiles, figures brushing past you on their way to the ballroom floor.
No one had asked you to dance yet, thank the gods. You were sure it had something to do with your miserable expression and the men's pants and doublet you wore, in stark contrast to the elaborate gowns and hairstyles of the other women in the room.
The night was only made more tolerable, of course, by your companion, Jaskier. An excellent bard, and your best friend, he'd asked you to accompany him to the party at which he'd been invited to perform. You were reluctant at first, preferring the quiet comfort of a tavern or a night under the stars, but he'd seemed so disappointed by your initial refusal, staring at you with those sad blue eyes until you finally caved. The clothing was another issue, as you owned nothing formal, hated dresses in fact, but he gladly lent you one of his simpler outfits, insisting you'd look wonderful in anything. You'd scoffed at his words, but were appreciative of his consideration for your comfort.
He danced about the room, strumming a playful tune on his lute, grinning from ear to ear as he winked at various party goers. You rolled your eyes, unable to help a smirk as you watched. Ever the performer, it wasn't only his music, but his whole manner that served to entertain the guests. He always looked beautiful in this setting, radiating happiness, thoroughly in his element. His blue doublet was open, the low cut shirt beneath revealing a smattering of hair on his chest, which heaved as he sung. His boyish fringe was swept across his face, which seemed almost sculpted, the golden glow of the many candles in the room accentuating his delicate features. Then there were his eyes. You loved his eyes, a mesmerising blue, always seeming to convey such an unbelievable level of meaning and emotion, drawing you in the longer you looked.
Noticing you staring his way, he gladly returned the smile you didn't realise you'd given him, his eyes seeming to light up even more upon meeting yours. You gave him an encouraging nod, and he grinned, launching into another song. At least he wouldn't feel guilty for dragging you along if you pretended to be enjoying yourself.
As the night dragged on, you found it harder to maintain your false appearance of positivity. You fiddled with the undoubtedly expensive food on your plate, unsure exactly of what it was and unwilling to find out. You had rejected a couple of young men who'd offered you dances, finding yourself as completely uninterested as usual, instead mumbling apologies and excuses about a sore leg. As the guests became louder, drunker, rowdier, you finally stood abruptly, in dire need of fresh air. You threw a final glance in the direction of the bard, who was currently preoccupied with entertaining a gaggle of young women with what was most likely some dramatic tale of dreamy lovers. He shouldn't notice if you stepped outside for a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, you wove your way towards the large double doors leading to the gardens beyond.
***
Taking deep breaths of fresh air, you wandered between rows of brightly coloured flowers, running your fingers through the petals as their sweet scents brushed across your nose. You manoeuvred between carefully trimmed hedges until you reached a low marbled bench, placed before an intricately carved fountain with mythical figures intertwined beneath the rippling water. Sitting down with a sigh, you ran your fingers through your messy hair, a nervous habit you'd never quite managed to shake. You didn't know why you were so averse to these kinds of gatherings. The people? The clothes? The food? Maybe it was just the atmosphere, the fake smiles, the superficial laughter, the whispered barbs whenever someone turned their back.
Or maybe you were just paranoid. Maybe all these people really were enjoying themselves. Maybe you should be too - you were, after all, invited as a guest, arriving with your dearest friend, a man for who many here would give a great deal in order to take your place at his side. Many of the women he'd thrown nonchalant winks and smiles at tonight would be jealous of a relationship which doesn't actually exist, like many others who'd assumed the pair of you to be lovers simply by observing your innate closeness. You'd never understand the way all those women could so quickly fall for him, for anyone, really. He'd often encouraged it, of course - less so now, you'd noticed, but certainly when you'd first met. He seemed to fall in love with everyone, and they always seemed immediately infatuated with him in return. While his reputation wasn't as extensive as he'd have people believe, he had a reputation nonetheless. Still, it was something you hadn't even considered when you'd first met, and Jaskier seemed just as glad of your friendship as he would have been had you sought something more.
Of course, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't grown to find him quite attractive, beautiful in spirit and appearance, with a kind, empathetic soul. You found your thoughts drifting, lulled into a daze by the soft trickle of water from the fountain and the distant chirping of night insects. You really loved him, that much you knew. He was your constant companion, your closest friend, your bard. But recently you couldn't help but find yourself wondering if he could be... not something more, that implied your friendship was of far less significance than it was, but... something different. Why now? You'd been friends for years. Why couldn't you have had these feelings and acted on them from the start? Or why couldn't they have just stayed away completely? You groaned, frustrated with your own thoughts, placing your head in your hands.
"Are you alright?"
You turned at the voice, which was deep, melodic, instantly recognisable, and laced with concern.
Jaskier stood uncertainly behind you, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap of his lute, pouting thoughtfully as he awaited your response.
"Oh I'm... I'm fine, Jask. Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from your performance-"
"You've nothing to be sorry about, my dear," he insisted, moving to take a seat at your side, resting his lute carefully on the bench beside him. You sat in silence for a moment, the soft sounds of the night filling the air, before he spoke again.
"If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I know you hate these sorts of things, I..." He looked down, tugging at the frilly cuffs of his shirt. "It was selfish of me to drag you along."
"Don't be ridiculous, Jask. I agreed to come, didn't I? I liked the idea of spending the night with you," you felt your face redden at the poor choice of words, but chose to stumble forwards over your mistake, "I- it's a nice evening, and..." you reached down beside you, grasping one of his hands in your own. "... And I really am glad to be here with you."
He met your eyes as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a cheeky smile that slowly spread across his entire face. It was infectious, and you quickly found yourself beaming back.
"I'm happy to hear it, dear heart," he said, before shuffling closer, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder. His fluffy hair, which shone a golden brown in the moonlight, brushed against your neck and chin, making you laugh as he squirmed about, trying to find a comfortable position.
"Are you going to wriggle around like that all night?" You teased. "Don't you have a performance you need to get back to?"
"Everything I need is right here," he murmured against your neck, voice far more gravelly than you'd expected, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. That was... That was new. You hesitated a second, before leaning back against him, the warmth of his partially exposed chest pressing into your shoulder as you rested your head against his.
"Can we just... Stay like this a while?" He breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
"Of course," you murmured back, closing your own eyes.
You enjoyed each other's silent company and the warmth of your bodies pressed together as the moon crept higher in the sky. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with his fingers, lacing them between your own. Reaching up with your other hand, you ran your fingers through his hair, drawing what sounded almost like a low moan from the bard, which was quickly interrupted by a cough as he stood abruptly.
"What's wrong?" You asked, staring up at him, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, you didn't know how he could have looked any more beautiful than before, but he did. The night cast shadows across his pale skin, accentuating his delicately sculpted features with a soft blue glow. His eyes seemed to burn with energy as they stared back into your own, and you noticed a deep red glowing through parts of his ruffled hair in the light of the moon. His doublet was crumpled from where he'd leant against you, and the low cut shirt beneath was pulled far to one side, revealing a teasingly large amount of his chest. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away as he responded.
"Oh, it's... It's nothing. I... Do you... That is..." He stopped for a second, composing himself, before his face lit up, seeming to have thought of something. An embarrassed smile broke through his features as he walked up to you, placing one hand behind his back and outstretching the other towards you.
"Would you care to dance, my dear?"
Heart pounding in your chest, you smiled, before reaching up to take his hand.
"I- I would love to, my sweet bard."
He let out a nervous laugh of relief at your response, stepping back as you rose from your seat, eyes locked on each other. His fingers, calloused from years of music, tenderly grasped your own, before his hands slid down your sides to find purchase at your waist, while you placed your arms either side of his head. You held your breath, the contact making you shiver, your heart fluttering in your chest.
What is wrong with me? It's not like this is the first time we've been this close. We've shared a horse, a bed, even danced together a couple of times at village fairs. Why should this be any different?
Too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice your lack of composure, Jaskier confidently led you around the small patch of ground hidden between hedges, your own natural dance floor, with the sighing wind, bubbling water and singing crickets providing the music. He absentmindedly bit his lip as his mind swirled, heart thumping just as fast as yours.
Why am I doing this? Of course we're close, we always have been, but this is different and I know it. I'm an idiot, a hopeful idiot. She's never been interested in me, and, as much as it wounds me, I promised myself to never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. Promised to never tell her just how deeply in love with her I am.
Jaskier pushed his troubled thoughts aside. He wanted to enjoy this moment, and wanted you to as well. Besides, maybe he could find out, once and for all, how you truly felt about him. Or at least, ease his aching heart by finally revealing his own feelings, regardless of your response.
Taking a deep breath, steadying his trembling body, he slowly leant towards you, until his lips barely brushed your ear. A pleasant warmth shot through your stomach at his unexpected touch, and you closed your eyes with a hum of contentment, welcoming his body as your arms pulled him closer.
Softly, he began to sing as the pair of you continued to sway in the moonlight, words raw and full of pure, unbridled emotion as he murmured them into your ear.
"It's what my heart just yearns to say, in ways that can't be said..."
You tightened your grip, clinging to him in silent awe as he continued the song, each new lyric causing heat to rise to your skin in the cool night air.
"Oh, how, oh, how unreasonably in love I am with everything you do, I'll spend my days so close to you, 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."
You'd stopped moving now, not daring to pull away, confused by the tide of emotions flooding your mind. What was this song? You'd never heard it before, but it seemed to come straight from the heart. Was it possible...
"It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you"
At these words, something clicked. You kicked yourself for not realising sooner. How could you be so blind? Forget your own emotions, you knew you hadn't always been in love with Jaskier. But him? He'd been infatuated with you from the start. Yet he'd kept quiet about his feelings, until he knew they were reciprocated. Your poor, kind, beautiful bard.
You closed what little distance was left between you two, burying your head into his chest. His voice trailed off as he gently slid his hands further around your waist, returning the embrace. He gave a deep sigh, hugging you as though he never wanted to let you go, nestling his head against your neck.
Eventually, you felt his lips brush your jaw as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, shining eyes filled with adoration, an expression of deep satisfaction resting on his face.
"That was... That was..." He breathed, fingers gently trailing across your back.
"It was beautiful," you finished, fingers twirling the fluffy brown curls at the back of his neck.
"I'm glad you liked it," he said softly, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes flitted across your features, eventually dropping to your lips.
"This feels too good to be true..." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he gently brought his lips forward to brush yours.
"Yet here we are," you whispered against his mouth, before finally pressing your lips into his own with a sigh.
He kissed you carefully, deliberately, the heat of your bodies pressed so close together serving only to fuel the motion. You slid your hands up the back of his shirt and he moaned into your mouth, sending another wave of warmth through your body. You allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue lapping and darting into your mouth as he made a series of small, pleasured noises, whimpering and gasping as you continued playing with his hair.
When you finally seperated, you were both breathing heavily, hearts pounding. Jaskier's appearance made you weak, as you examined his lust darkened eyes, the soft blush creeping across his cheeks, and his puffy, crimson lips. He looked so ruffled, like a startled baby animal, that you couldn't help but giggle. You moved to rest your forehead against him, his eyelashes briefly kissing your cheek as he moved to wrap his arms around your waist.
"I love you, Jaskier," you said, running your thumb across his cheek, causing him to hum softly at the touch. You hesitated, grinning, before adding, "thanks for waiting for me."
"Of course, dear heart," he said, cheeky smile once again tugging at the corner of his mouth, before adding more seriously, "You're more important to me than you could ever know."
"I think I have some idea," you smirked, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling his lips into your smile.
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tonbane · 1 year
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Yennskier + 7 prompted by @handwrittenhello​ ! You know that one dress Yennefer wears with the shoulder jacket thingy? What if.. what if it’s gone 😳. I’m having Thoughts.
(Here’s all the kiss prompts so far)
Give me a 🔁 if you 💟 what I do!
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iamfrost · 2 years
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Yennefer: I sleep with a dagger under my pillow.
Renfri: Weak, I sleep with a sword.
Jaskier: You guys are pathetic.
Yennefer: Oh? What do you sleep with?
Jaskier: Geralt.
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The Grudge (The Witcher x OC; Jaskier x OC)
Summary: Set between Episode 2 & 3 of Season 2 of The Witcher. Rinah Saov is living with the consequences of saving Vessimer from the Leshy, as the other witchers make her life a misery she decides there is somewhere else her heart and mind need to be.
Words: 2,267
Notes: Just trying something new, writing some new characters/universe that I haven't written before. I know that not many people like OC characters etc. but I really wanted to write this so I hope some of you like it. Just trying something a little different for once 🤷‍♀️
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Rinah Saov was the nightmare parents told their children to keep them quiet. She was the stuff of Cintran legend; Redania denied her existence despite her long studies at Oxenfurt - stories and songs and tales of vast pain have been created in her wake.
The last name she adopted was a moniker of her kind, Saov meaning Soul in the elder language. Rinah was a ‘Second Soul’, a creature split in half by ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Equally in control; switching between a strong, extraordinary, but un-magical existence and a being of pure unfathomable power, sporting blood-red eyes and a magic not even the oldest mages of Aretuza know.
She was the origin of it all; the origin of the darkest magic in the continent, older than Chaos itself, a burden she knew all too well.
Their kind had existed before The Conjunction, few and far between, but by the time it was over Rinah was the only one left. Seemingly, she was now one of the oldest creatures on the continent inhabiting the body of a twenty-something year old woman. After The Conjunction, in an effort to placate the many creatures of this new world order she locked away the darkest part of her soul in a cage of her own minds making, vowing that her magic would remain dulled until war ravaged the lands she swore to protect.
A task that she had not been able to fulfill during the first Nilfgaardian war, a war she’d spent mostly unaware of what was happening as she remained locked in dimeritium chains in the dungeons of Cintra alongside Geralt of Rivia.
Geralt had met her by chance, some 30 years previous when he was a young Witcher. Fascinated by his lack of fear Rinah had followed him, irritating him into companionship. Eventually he stopped telling her leave; one day he handed her his sword to fight as hers was kicked from her grasp and that ostensibly insignificant act had sealed a formidable duo that was equally revered and feared across the many kingdoms. Her legends became entwined with his until she was not just two souls but three.
There was however a fourth, one that more belonged to her heart. Jaskier, Viscount De Lettenhove. 
Since their chance meeting in a tavern deep in the northern mountains the bard had wormed his way into her heart, a heart she had never once given to another. A thousand years of loneliness came crashing down around her, a feeling she never knew the sound of till she knew him.
Passing each other like flittering nymphs they had flirted with the prospects for years, seemingly only toying with it rather than solidifying any feelings. Geralt dutifully ignored his companion, the most powerful entity he had encountered in all his years, acting like a love-struck child. Swooning every time the loud-mouthed bard would cross their paths.
Then, one night in the woods outside Novigrad, as Geralt had slept, they had spilled their hearts open. Agreeing that the other may do what and whom they pleased, as long as they always made it back to each other.
Rinah was thousands of years old, monogamy wasn’t her style – a fact Jaskier embraced heartily.
Then came the dragon hunt, then Geralt’s rage and an issue neither of them had discussed – the fact that both would follow Geralt’s instructions without question, a different sense of loyalty. Hers to stay and his, with a shattering heart for both his love and his best friend, to leave.
Rinah paced the cold corridors of Kaer Morhern, cracking the bones of her neck in agitation, “Ignore him,” Vesemir said calmly, leaning casually against a damp wall. The silver adornments on his Witcher armor glimmered in the moonlight that shone in from the windows beside them.
The night air around them was peaceful and still, making the echoing thumps of her boots on the stone passageway sound like the walls had a heartbeat.
Shooting a look of daggers his way Rinah snorted incredulously, “I don’t know if you noticed but the little lamb makes it rather hard to do that.”
“Lambert is a feckless brute; he will come around.”
She sighed, halting her pacing and looking at Vessmier much kinder, “What I did to Eskel was…”
“… For the best.”
Rinah’s eyebrows furrowed in sadness, “I would never hurt any of you, but that… the Leshy had taken over, I had no choice.”
Vesemir grunted with a confirming nod, “So let it go child.”
Rinah smiled at his use of child, so tender and yet so incorrect. It had been a long time since she’d been treated like someone’s daughter. Vesemir smiled back as if he knew; his cold-grey eyes watching her curiously for a moment, as he so often did, before leaving.
------------------------
Dinner was noisy as usual, clattering cutlery and mingled voices. The air was thick with tension however, Geralt and Rinah sat at the opposite end of the room to the rest. Ciri sat by Rinah’s side too, side glancing at her every now and again with wary worry.
Suddenly Lambert's voice rose above the rest, “Can’t trust anyone these days!” he shouted in a jovial but pointed tone. His words were followed by a boom of bass-filled laughter.
Rinah rolled her eyes as Lambert peaked over his shoulder intentionally in her direction.
“This is impossible,” Rinah muttered under her breath. Geralt grunted dismissively by her side, shoveling spoonfuls of broth into his mouth, “They’ll move on.”
Sighing, she turned to him, lowering her chin so she could whisper, “They don’t want me here, and who can blame them.”
“You did what had to be done.”
A flash of the Leshy’s face, a mimic of Eskel, blinked across her memory, “I killed their brother! It doesn’t matter.”
Geralt was definitive, “Let it go.”
Rinah pushed herself up, plates clattering as her hips knocked the table as she clambered out from the bench, “I can’t.”
She stormed from the dining room, avoiding eye contact. Her feet carried her forward, cold air whipped her face as she made her way down some stone steps at the back of Kaer Morhern. 
Ice filled her lungs as she breathed down, trying to loosen the rope tightening around her chest. Her mind raced like a flood rushing down a hill, pointless to stop. She couldn’t stand their eyes on her, their judgement and rightful emotions.
She had no right to be angry, no right to be upset that they hated her. The only reason not a single one hadn’t tried to take her out wasn’t because of their history together, it was because of Geralt. Her mere presence was faltering cracks in their unbreakable mountain of bond. Geralt would pay a price that wasn’t a debt he owed the longer she held on.
But where would she go? Home was a foreign concept lost on her many thousands of years ago.
Then a face appeared in her mind, a memory that only made the rope around her chest more taut. The string-plucking sound of a lute like a call across the wind.
She’d go to him.
-----------------
Geralt heard Rinah before he saw her. The clatter and her weapons strapped to her back, thudding against the leather of her heavy pack.
“Vesemir,” she called out, gesturing him closer. Vesemir's eyes raised to hers casually before he caught sight of her appearance and despite the concerned furrowing of his eyebrows he rose to his feet and crossed the room.
Geralt stood when he saw her dressed in thick armor, his feet getting closer as she asked, “Do you have a horse you could spare?”
“A moment Vesemir,” Geralt spoke, cutting off his answer.  Vesemir didn’t move for a split second before a sideways glance from hard, gold eyes encouraged him away.
“What are you doing?” his graveled voice rumbled her way.  
Rinah sighed, looking past him to see if Ciri was still sat at the table, she found it empty, “I need to leave this fucking place.”
Geralt raised his eyebrows just a touch, understanding her reasoning but silently questioning it. She huffed in annoyance, “Geralt, you are not my guard I can come and go as I please.”
She pushed past him, making some more headway towards the doors at the back of the room. A gloved hand grabbed her bicep and tugged, “Enough of this,” he growled.
“They do not want me here,” Rinah replied, sounding out each word, “This is only going to get worse. You deserve better… she does too,” she lowered her voice to a whisper.
Geralt rolled his eyes, so used to her constate of quick to reaction, “You’re moving too fast, give it time,” Geralt said, his voice almost lilting down towards soothing as he loomed over her blocking Rinah from the prying view of their company.
“I know where I must go,” Rinah said with tentative words, carefully eyeing Geralt to see if he understood.
“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” Ciri appeared from the darkened corridor at the side of the room, smiling with a dreamy, doe-eyed happiness.
An understanding of a memory passed between them, one night at camp whilst Geralt hunted for food. Neither had ever had friends such as this to gossip about, Ciri asking all the questions with girlish glee that an age-old creature wouldn’t think too. Like sisters, tittering over some boy, Rinah had opened her heart once more.
Softly smiling, Rinah nodded and Ciri bounced on her heels, bounding towards her, “Go after him!”
“We’ll come with you,” Geralt adjusted his armor and looked around, deciding which direction to go first. Armor or to load up Roach with supplies, Rinah could see the cogs turning behind his eyes.
Even Ciri balked at the words, staring up at him incredulously. Had the weight of her decision not weighed her down Rinah may have smiled.
Rinah shook her head, “I will do this alone.”
“Rinah,” his grumbling tone warned her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and disagreement. She placed her hand against his chest to stop the forward step he was taking.
“You will stay here, for her,” she kept her hand against his chest, a physical stop in his tracks, and tilted her head in gesture, “And for you.”
His eyes said everything his lips did not. Squinted in disapproval as he looked down at his friend.
Rinah rolled her tongue in the hollow of her cheek, swallowing her irritation, “Need I remind you Geralt, it’s your fault he isn’t here. Do not begrudge me this.”
Her heart ached, fear of not knowing what she’d find, but she knew she had to follow this feeling. This was not a habit she made practice of very often, her years were deeply lonely before the witcher had strolled into her life. But this was different, like an invisible string was pulling her Jaskier’s way.
She’d more than likely find him in bed with some wench he’d found at a local tavern but even that brought a twitch of a smile to her lips.
Rinah raised her eyes to Geralt, her expression somewhat pleading. A wave of her forgotten grudge swirled around them, Geralt's nostrils flared as if he could smell the scent of her fear, her pain. “If you knew Yennefer was alive, you’d go after her, am I wrong?”
Geralt stayed fixed in brooding silence as she continued, “Don’t insult me by telling me it’s not the same thing.”
Rinah’s hand reached up and rested against his armored shoulder, “I have to do this,” she urged, “Even just to see him once,” she continued under her breath so only he would hear, “I don’t even have to speak to him, I just… need this.”
She had no way of explaining the ache in her heart, although she feels the level of anger that she threw at Geralt in the months after the dragon hunt may have given him a hint. They barely spoke for weeks as she tried to forgive him. And as she tried to forgive herself for not telling her friend to fuck off and running after Jaskier before he stepped one foot off that mountain.
Geralt spoke in-kind, “This is a bad idea. You don’t know where he is or even what you’ll find, he could be anywh- “ 
Suddenly arms were around Rinah’s waist cutting off their muted conversation and ice blonde hair smothered her, “You’ll come back?” Ciri asked softly, muffled by her cheek against Rinah’s chest.
Pulling back, Rinah grabbed Ciri’s face, hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at her, “Always, I will always come back.”
Rinah took one last knowing glance upwards towards Geralt before turning her back, collecting her sword from the table behind them. The other Witcher’s watched in silence, it was unusual to hear this hall so quiet. The air felt a little colder in the absence of rambunctious energy.
As she made her way to the door, she passed Lambert; raising an eyebrow accusingly she quietly spat, “You got your way, little lamb.”  
“Rinah!” a booming voice echoed after her before Lambert could speak.
Turning on her heels she saw Geralt taking tentative steps towards her, he opened and closed his mouth as if to speak despite his face remaining steely and unfaltering.
As it had done so many times before, understanding passed wordlessly between them.
Rinah smiled tenderly before turning her back once more, calling out over her shoulder, “Our girl better be more skilled than you with a sword by the time I get back Geralt!” 
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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years
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Jaskier x Reader Series // Chapter Two - The Path to Enlightenment
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I remember someone asking for this drabble to be turned into a series of Y/N and Jaskier going about travelling, monster hunting, and finally realising Jaskier’s crush, so here you go! My first series whoop whoop this is exciting!
The next chapter is going to be Y/N and Jaskier at the inn and oh no!! There’s only one bed left!! So if you want me to continue, please comment and let me know that you enjoy!!
Part one can be read here!
(I do not own The Witcher or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lovingyoulovingmelovingus.)
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°
Exhausted couldn’t begin to even cover it.
After trudging for what seemed like decades through the thickets of brambles: trawling through the muddy waters of the lower valleys and then scurrying over hedges and growths that seemed to be made solely of pointed swords and pinching fingernails, Jaskier’s eyes could barely keep fluttering awake any longer. Yet his silence seemed to frighten you, or at least shock you down to your troubled core. Not once did he open his rather garrulous mouth to utter a word of annoyance, sound a grievance of joyous displeasure or begging to stop for some time to scavenge and a moment to put his feet up.
It didn’t take long for a passing flower field to take the newest swing of his fancy, and even less time for Jaskier to remove his doublet and lay down upon it amongst the snapping firedragons and dew-drop violets. He carefully placed his lute down among a fine looking encampment of drooping daisies beside his ribs. Although he grimaced, trying to roll back his still injured shoulder as he fell among the wafting stalks, he still found the energy to open one eye at you.
‘You know, enjoying yourself for one moment won’t be the end of the world. Especially when you have such fabulous company to keep you busy- or at least occupied until you stop blaming yourself for every bad deed that happens along the path.’ He reaches behind his head, tangling his fingers through the shoots and crisp leaves until he reaches a plump, red berry and pops it back in his mouth. He pats the small space of unfettered soil beside him with a grin, and you find your own complaint to be a tired sigh as you heave down to lie beside him.
He turns on his side to face you, red breeches burning like fire against the sun as he crosses his legs and pretends he doesn’t notice how he lies them to rest against your thigh. He can feel his breath racing out his mouth as he chews, hoping you don’t realise how much his hand is shaking as he tries to nonchalantly reach out and play with the loose strands of your hair falling from your bun. The lines on his forehead squeeze together as he talks: ‘I wanted... I wanted to finish off our last conversation.’
‘What, the one where you confessed your undying love to me and told me that “oooh, I will never part from you Y/n, it would break my soul into pieces”‘. You press the back of his hand exaggeratedly against your forehead, rolling a little from side to side as you notice him roll his eyes and huff. He uses the same hand to hit your shoulder, but even you are able to notice the way his lips twitch up towards his usual jubilant smile.
Yet he seems to turn more serious, as he lowers his attention away from your eyes, down to your lips, and then more dramatically to the piece of stalk he pulled from the ground and fiddled between his fingers. ‘I meant every word of it, you know’, he puffs, heaving his chest up as if somewhere between pride and agony. ‘I’ve been in the presence of Geralt long enough to know that your life is dangerous and honestly, completely scarring sometimes.’ He widens his eyes, looking up at you with saucers in mock terror. You snort, but don’t laugh at him, feeling as if the Bard seemed more serious, more nervous behind the masquerade and airs of buffoonery he put on. Instead you inched closer to him, until you could feel the familiar itch of his sleeve’s lace against your hip. So close, in fact, that you could reach out and hit your nose against his, if you felt the need. And by the way Jaskier’s eyes went crossed as he glanced down to just that very same nose, he felt that very need extortionately in that moment.
‘You know, I um, hm, I was hoping that I, I wished- what I wanted to say.’
He tried to play off the way he whimpered when he could feel the warm breath from your mouth ghost over his lips. How badly he wanted to reach out the hands that were soaring up to rest crescentic against his chin. How the knees that were drawing up wanted to splay over your own, instead of him retreating within himself. How dreadfully pathetic, he thought, to be lying here with the love of your life, and all you can do is blubber like an idiot.
‘Jaskier, I don’t mean to ruin the first train of thought you’ve had in months, but the sun is beginning to lower behind your head. If we don’t leave her soon, a pack of wolves will make sure we never do.’
He grunted, coughing as he startled to sit upright. Drawing his chin down to his throat, he nodded fervently, until you reached out to hold it still in the fear he may snap it off.  ‘Right, right, of course. My profound musings can wait. That is the life, and burden of a poet, after all.’
You only hummed, not noticing the way Jaskier’s eyes seemed to glow as bright and luscious as the pale, silvery moonlight now growing behind his head as he looked up at your rising form, as ensnared as someone with a burning heart could be. You offer him a hand, and he gladly takes it before he goes to gather up his loot and cap once again. He straightens the feather as he places it back on his head, watching you tighten the straps on your armour with a look so akin to ruination it could make a Wyvern weep. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, and even though he’s already bustled past you to start back out onto the stony path twisting through the outskirts of the forest, even you manage to spot the way he clenches his hand by the puff of his trousers. The same hand. that only a few moments ago, had just been touching yours.
You thought he would be slower after the stop. He seemed to be doubled over, quiet, as if ruminating. But no, Jaskier kept your pace; a rather solemn look on his face, but not one of displeasure at his current circumstances. It surprised you even further to note that his eyebrows were furrowed as if almost in deep thought, mouth pursed and jutting from time to time as if his thoughts had moved down to roll between his lips. As you passed by a particularly slippery patch of woodland floor, his breath hitched as if he were about to detail the particulars of the Universe to you, but thought better of it. Instead, as he nearly slipped over on his leg and fell down onto his rear, he only tentatively grasped his hand in your own.
You near jumped out of your skin when you felt his pinkie finger bump against the edge of your hand, felt it slide along your skin and almost withdraw as if every jolt and collision set his hand on fire. He clenched it, before relaxing down his palm again, trying to press it flat against yours without startling any words of disdain from your Witcher mouth. When he found none, he briefly smiled to himself, heart fluttering so fast with relief he feared the butterflies might come sprawling out of his mouth and blow away into the starlight.
As you continued to seek out the nearest inn for a night of well earned rest, and some ale to spend your well earned gold on, Jaskier’s fingers remained clamped, fettered against yours; as if letting go would lead him to disintegrate into the dirt on destiny’s unrelenting, and unforgiving breath.
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invisible-sometimes · 2 years
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Darling, leave a light on
Here is a thing I wrote. You can also find it on AO3.
Please do not copy or repost my work. Reblogs, comments, likes etc are wholeheartedly welcomed <3
warnings: none. Gender-neutral pronouns.
It wasn’t always that you would stay to watch Jaskier’s performances. After a long day of travelling, you would usually stay behind in your rented room or leave not long after a filling supper, planting a kiss on his cheek and a farewell pat on Geralt’s shoulder.
Jaskier understood why you might not want to stay—the crowd, the noise, the exhaustion of being in the saddle all day (he too was sore from travelling but that was nothing a couple of pints couldn’t fix)—but he’d always let his heart ache as he watched you leave for the door, the memory of your lips on his cheek lifting his spirits enough to walk up to the makeshift stage. You were his muse, the one he lived for, so to not have you in the room as he performed, sometimes pouring his heart out for only you to hear, was always disheartening.
But as soon as the audience was enraptured, as soon as they were drunk enough to sing along, the worry usually slipped his mind because by then he was in his element, never having felt more alive. It went unmentioned that he had also consumed more than a couple of pints but never did his words slur, much to Geralt’s continuous amusement from his ill-lit corner.
There were times when you did stay, as infrequent as they were, and they were, in Jaskier’s opinion, some of the best performances he’d ever had. He wouldn’t drink as much if only to be able to remember the light in your eyes as you laughed and clapped along, trying to encourage your stoic witcher friend to do the same. (You would never notice the tiny smile granted to you for your efforts.)
He treasured those nights when you’d walk back to wherever your room was, arm in arm, leaning on each other, still high off the atmosphere of the tavern you’d just left: you enchanted by his songs and him by the warmth and presence of you by his side.
When you arrived at your room, having bid Geralt goodnight, you quickly lit several candles which illuminated your lover in the most enticing way as he discarded his overcoat. He would turn around and smile at you, a softness in his eyes you would never tire of, and on nights like these neither of you would be able to keep your hands to yourself.
But on nights when Jaskier walked back alone with only his lute for company, he’d always find a candle already lit for him, no matter how late it was or how low it was burning.
His heart would swell and threaten to burst with all the poetry inside him, knowing you thought of him even when he wasn’t there. Even when he came back late in a bit of a state, stumbling and tripping over air despite trying his best to be quiet; even when you looked like an angel lying there under the covers, fast asleep, waiting for him. He would deposit his nightly earnings by your bags, shed his clothes and snuff the candle, and hastily join you under the covers with all the tenderness an inebriated man drunk on love like him could muster.
In the morning, when the pale light crept over the horizon you would wake to soft snores coming from behind you and a sleepy smile filled with tenderness would make its home on your face. The warm weight of Jaskier’s arm over your waist, holding you hostage to a man who wouldn’t wake for another couple of hours was enough to convince you to remain in bed, as it always did. You snuggled up to him more, letting him pull you closer in his sleep as you let yourself drift.
Here, like this, he wasn’t Jaskier the performer, he was your Julian, the man you had fallen for head-over-heels and on mornings like this, you swear you’d fall even further.
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queenxxxsupreme · 2 years
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Congratulations on your milestone! Could I request an oneshot where it’s the moment where Jaskier holds baby Charlotte for the first time when she’s born, and he goes all soft, please? Thanks so much!! 😘
A/N: I have this whole story behind Charlotte’s name which if I ever get around to it would tie into an OC x Eskel fic that has to do with a sister of Jaskier’s and this whole dad!Jaskier AU kind of dabbles into it…. But I just have to kick my own ass into gear lmao.... also this is another one of the asks that was sent in over a year ago.... yikes I'm the worst lmao
Warnings: a bit angsty but fluffy, nothing outside of canon
You hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, making sure to be nearly as silent as possible. One week old Charlotte was just in the other room taking a nap. You had struggled to get her to sleep but now that she was finally asleep, you could clean up where it was needed. 
As you were passing a window, you glanced outside out of habit. Your eyes caught sight of two horses coming down the path. One was Roach carrying Geralt and the other was Piper carrying Jaskier. 
You hurried to go outside and meet your husband, but made sure to quietly close the front door behind yourself. 
Jaskier jumped down from Piper’s back before she even came to a stop. He was so eager and excited to get to you, to make it to you before the baby arrived. 
But as he started to approach you, he realized your stomach wasn’t as prominent as it had been two weeks ago when he left with Geralt for a contract. 
The bard came to a slow stop, brows drawing together with concern. His lips parted as his breath caught in his throat. 
“The-The baby.” He couldn’t even form a complete sentence. 
“It’s alright, my love.” You assured him, placing your hands on his arms. “She’s inside.”
His features immediately softened. His hands came up to your biceps. 
“She?”
“Mhm.” Tears sprung from seemingly nowhere as you nodded your head. 
Without missing a beat, Jaskier pulled you in for a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, hands pressing against your back. 
“When?”
“Six days ago just before sunrise.”
His shoulders trembled as he cried into the crook of your neck. 
The both of you had been told by your midwife that the baby wouldn’t be born for three more weeks, so you encouraged Jaskier to go with Geralt on one final trip before fatherhood prevented him from traveling for a while.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Nonsense.” You brought your hand up to brush your fingers through his thick dark hair. “We are both safe. I only wish you would have been here to witness her birth.”
He pulled away to look at you. His cheeks were stained red and tears dampened his skin. You reached up to brush the tears away, smiling softly. 
“Would you like to see her?”
“Of course.” 
Jaskier started to go towards the house, his hand firmly holding yours. You hesitated. Your eyes found Geralt. 
“Come on, Geralt. You must see your niece.”
“I will be in momentarily.” The White Wolf told you, a soft smile playing on his face. “I’ll put the horses up.”
***
Jaskier squeezed your hand intermittently as you led him down the hallway towards your bedroom. 
“She just laid down for a nap not too long ago.” You warned him. 
He let your hand go and began to go to the crib by himself. You remained near the door, watching your husband with teary eyes. You had cried multiple times since her birth thinking about what this moment would be like, and now it was finally here. 
Jaskier took his lute off and gently placed it on the floor against her crib. 
“Oh my gods.” He whispered. 
Inside the crib was what looked like a wrapped up loaf of bread. But the little face poking out from the off white cloth made his heart melt. 
Without hesitation, Jaskier picked her up. 
“She barely weighs anything!” He whispered, blue eyes very briefly finding you. He returned his gaze to Charlotte as he cradled her in his arms. 
“Right now, she has your eyes.” You moved to stand next to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Hopefully it stays that way. You have beautiful eyes.”
“She’s got your nose.” He chuckled softly, then sniffled. “What-What have you been calling her?”
“We agreed on Charlotte. After your sister.” 
Jaskier brought his gaze back to you. 
“Thank you, Y/N.”
“We agreed on it.” You cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to gently brush the tears away. 
“No, thank you for this. For-For giving me a daughter.” He turned his head to kiss your palm. “It’s more than I ever could’ve asked for.”
“My love, I’d give you the moon and stars if I could.”
Jaskier leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours. 
You both stayed like that for a few moments, eyes closed and taking in one anothers warm breath. It was comforting to just be there with your husband and now with your daughter too. 
“Geralt is going to love her.” Jaskier pulled back, a bright and proud smile on his face. 
“Let’s go introduce him.”
Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @adhdhufflepuff @Purple-Tsuki @bitquirkydoe
If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(
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desparadowriter · 2 years
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Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader, Jaskier | Dandelion & Reader Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Valdo Marx Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Heavy Angst, Canon-Typical Violence Summary:
Legend told of a creature who haunted the night. Like the plague, it would slither into homes and prey on the unrighteous, sometimes undeserving, but always unsuspecting folk of the Continent. Some said it was a monster born from the Conjunction, others a vengeful spirit once wronged that now sought violence for eternity. But neither was true of course, you were alive, human, and simply carried out ‘tasks’ that others were too scared or stupid to do themselves.
- Chapters to be published weekly.
And here it is - The Final Chapter
I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read this series, especially those who reblogged and/or commented. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed seeing your reactions! This series was such fun to write and even more so to share with you all.
Until next time <3
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tielmamon · 8 months
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Geralt still hates parties, but most of the time its worth the trouble if he's with his bard 🥹❤️
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scarlet2007 · 7 months
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₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.
[ Master list ]
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
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꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Word count: 3.3k
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.
The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.
"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.
"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.
You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.
"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.
"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.
"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.
Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.
The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.
"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.
"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.
"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.
"Speak."
You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.
"What makes you think that?"
"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.
The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.
Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.
He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.
"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.
"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.
The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.
The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.
"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.
"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.
"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.
"What is it?"
You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.
"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."
The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.
"They knew that there was a beast?"
You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."
The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.
"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"
The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."
The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."
"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.
"It's outside the woods."
"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.
"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.
"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."
"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"
"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.
"Why? Isn't the town safer?"
You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.
Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.
The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.
The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.
As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.
"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.
"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.
The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.
Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.
"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.
You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared.  Oh, you were so so scared.
A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.
You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.
You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.
"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.
"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.
"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"
"Burn her!"
"Kill her!"
Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.
"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.
"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.
"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.
You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.
"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.
"I will keep her."
That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.
He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.
He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.
"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.
The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.
"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.
"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.
The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.
"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.
You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.
"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.
"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.
He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.
"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.
"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.
You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.
"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.
He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.
"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.
After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.
After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.
"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.
"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.
"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.
"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.
"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."
You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"
And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
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emiiinazer · 1 year
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My bard
Some soft babes because I will go down in this fluff ship
Feel free to use as a phone background 😁
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misterkarchie · 7 months
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When holding hands with your lover is more intimate than bedding him
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horsedadgeralt · 1 year
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He’s running
There is someone behind him, chasing him, getting closer with each step he takes, each desperate breath he tries to force into his screaming lungs.
Jaskier knows that it’s futile.
He is no fighter, and though that means that he is the prey, it’s clear that he wasn’t meant for that either, his legs shaking and his muscles twitchting as he’s trying not to get stuck in the muddy forest floor.
“Help!” he screams.
“Someone help me, please!”
But to no avail.
Behind him, there are footsteps, but he doesn’t dare look, knowing that if he gives in, he might just as well slit his own throat.
Is it Rience? Has he found him again, ready to finish what he started?
He can feel his hand starting to burn, can smell the stench of burning flesh and just as his foot gets caught on a root carefully hidden underneath some leaves, he can feel two arms around his waist.
As he closes his eyes to accept his fate, Jaskier lets out one last scream. For himself or the forest, he does not know. Do you really make a sound if no one is there to hear it?
But there is no pain. No fire, no sizzling, no smoke, just warmth.
That, and the two arms still tightly wrapped around his waist, holding him close.
“Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, his face buried into the bard’s hair.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s just a dream, you’re safe.”
It takes a moment for reality to catch up with him, but then Jaskier feels it. The mattress below him, the blanket covering them both.
He hears the sound of the last few pieces of wood burning in the fire places, crackling as the fire eats away at it, and dollops of rain falling against the window with a random yet comforting rhythm.
And, loudest of all, he hears Geralt’s hearbeat. Steady and slow, each thud pulling him back into reality more and more.
Thud.
He is safe.
Thud.
Geralt is here.
Thud.
Slowly, he turns around so that he is facing the Witcher, their chests flush. He mimics the sleepy smile on Geralt’s face and leans in close for a kiss.
Thud, thud, thud.
With butterflies in his stomach and chest, he closes his eyes, the song of their hearts beating in unison lulling him back to sleep.
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iamfrost · 2 years
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Some more Witcher content for y’all.
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daddyy333 · 8 months
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Geralt of Rivia Fluff
if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it
word count: 2.6k
warnings: reader is injured at the beginning, reader is wounded, reader gets stitches (I think), clingy geralt, ?
summary: Never in your wildest dreams did you think Geralt of Rivia would turn out to be the clingiest boyfriend you’d ever had
When you first started your relationship with Geralt- actually, scratch that. When you first met Geralt you thought he was the furthest thing from clingy. He barely even spoke, much less touched you or even looked in your direction really.
After he fell out with Yennefer, he met you. He was planning to just stay in this small village for a few days and rest, knowing he had to keep moving so no one would find him and Ciri. That was until he stumbled upon you.
He found you running from some odd and probably hungry monster, looking to feed…on you. Possibly one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen. You looked quite out of place, your light pastel purple skirt gradually getting covered in dirt as you tried to escape the creature.
You yelped as you tripped over a branch, sobs racking your body as you fell face first into the dirt. You groaned, cursing frantically through sobs, trying to crawl away from the creature.
“fu- FUCK!” You said as the creature drug his claw across your thigh. You cried out, whimpering as you finally accepted your fate. Suddenly, right when you feel it’s stinky, hot breath on you it disappears just as fast.
You couldn’t see what was happening, back facing upwards and your face still buried in the ground. You felt a man’s hands on your waist and you screamed, curling tighter even though it caused more pain to pulse in your thigh.
“Miss, I’m the one who just saved your life. I’m…a Witcher. Even if you hate me right now, I’d like to help you if that’s alright?” He said as he walked in front of you bending down so you could see him. You whimpered as you said “p-please don’t hurt m-me”
“I’m not going to. I just need you to cooperate and I promise you’ll be just fine in a little while” he said and you nodded. He scooped you up and plopped you on his horse, making you cry out in pain.
“Can you…mmm- b-be gentle?” You asked and he sighed. He mumbled an apology and started leading Roach back to his lodgings that he found sufficient for a few days.
You had passed out then, and he realized that his poor excuse for a tourniquet failed. “Shit,” he said and laid you on his bed, pulling your skirt off to help him treat you better.
“Oh gods, what the hell is this?” Ciri asked and Geralt sighed. He poured a disinfectant on your thigh as he said “found her being chased by a monster. Did my job. Now I’m helping her” “why didn’t you just find a doctor to do it?” She asked, setting her bag of fruits down and beginning to wash them.
“Don’t have the coin for it. Why so many questions, Ciri?” He asked and she shrugged. She looked over and said “I don’t know, just…feels unusual” “she needs help. I’m providing it” he said and Ciri nodded, chuckling.
He treated you to the best of his abilities and waited for you to wake up, going out and chopping some wood to fill his time and also training with Ciri a bit. When he came back inside it was nighttime and you were still sleeping.
He knew you weren’t dead, he could hear your heartbeat faintly and you weren’t super pale anymore. He walked over and shook you lightly, trying to wake you up. “Miss?” He asked, and you still didn’t budge.
He sighed and then nearly jumped when Jaskier busted in, a little drunk admittedly. “Ohhhh Geralt!” He sang, stumbling in. Geralt sighed and stared at him, hoping Jaskier wouldn’t cause too much trouble because he needed to look after you.
You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes and coughing a few times. You tried to sit up but moving your thigh cause immense pain. “Ahh!” You groaned, trying to figure out what the hell happened.
“Hi, Miss. Are you alright?” Geralt asked and you jumped slightly. You looked around frantically and then said “w-where is my skirt?” You asked and he cleared his throat. He showed that it was on a table and said “I had to take it off to treat your wounds”
You looked down at your thigh and winced, gently touching it and moving the bandage. “Thank- th-thank you” you said, looking up at him. Jaskier walked over with a smirk on his face and said “and who are you-” “Jaskier,” Geralt scolded softly.
“Y/n…of Aedirn” you said and smiled a little. You noticed a look of confusion on his face and you understood why. You were in a far away village near Creyden, why? “Julian Alfred Pankratz?” You asked the brown haired gentleman and he smiled. He nodded and said “that would be me. Viscount of Lettenhove”
You nodded and looked up at the white haired Witcher, sighing. “Uhm…Rivia…Geralt?” You asked and he nodded, a small smile on his face. Ciri had came out of her room and scoffed at the interaction. “Are you blushing?” She asked and Geralt shot a stern look her way.
“You should be asleep” he said and she shook her head. “Jaskier woke me up” she mumbled and he gasped. He ran over and hugged her as he said “I deeply apologize, my little pocket sized princess. Oh, you should get your beauty sleep come on”
You chuckled a little at the interaction and Geralt bent down to your level. His gaze made butterflies swirl in your stomach. “How are you feeling?” He asked and you sighed. You look down at your leg and said “sore. And dirty” “would you like me to help you with a bath? I would leave you alone but I don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while” “I appreciate it. Yes, thank you” you said and he got to work.
He ended up staying for longer just to care for you and you told him your story. Your parents turned you away because you were secretly harboring magical abilities behind their back and they had strong opinions against that. You’ve been running around all over the continent trying to figure out where’s safest but it’s been tough and technically your homeless.
But he was so infatuated with you he wasn’t really thinking when he said “travel with me. And Ciri of course, and sometimes Jaskier” You shook your head and insisted you couldn’t, you would only be a bother. He insisted instead that you come along.
He was a man of mostly few words, and kept to himself quite a bit. You spent a lot of time with Ciri. You would teach her to cook, help her control her chaos, braid her hair, and even tell her stories of your travels before you met them. The two of you almost seemed like mother and daughter at times but neither of you noticed. You just felt like best friends.
You had to admit, Geralt was a beautiful man. When you caught him shirtless once, you nearly fainted. He was just so handsome, and you wanted to kiss every scar on his body till he forgot about them.
But you thought you never stood a chance with him. You knew about what happened with Yennefer and assumed that because of that you wouldn’t be able to have any romantic relationship with him. Even if you tried, you think it would be rude because of how much happened between them. Truly you are still convinced to this day that they are soulmates, and he would drop you in a heartbeat if she came back and wanted to try again. But that’s a story for another day.
Months go by, you’ve completely healed so long ago you don’t need to burden them any longer with your presence but you feel so welcomed and safe with them. However, after about a year or so you’ve started to think that maybe it would make things easier if you went off on your own again, like it used to be.
You packed your bags and made your way to the lake where Geralt was fishing from. “Hey,” you said, walking up to him. He looked over at you and grunted in response. “I uh…I’ve been thinking and I’m gonna go out on my own again. I’ve been healed for months and I don’t need to stay and bother you any longer. Im grateful fo-”
“Stop,” he said, putting down his net. He shook his head and said “what are you talking about? You are not leaving” “Geralt…I-I was only supposed to travel with you until my leg healed and it’s been over a year. I’m okay now. The less people you have to travel with the easier, so I thought maybe I’d-”
“No. You can’t go. You can’t- do not go. Y/n, why do you say such stupid things?” He asked and you shook your head. You scoffed, shaking your head as you said “why do you care so much? I’m just some strange, homeless woman you met a year ago and just so happened to save from a really stinky monster”
“You’re- why do you think so little of yourself? Stop talking about this nonsense, I don’t want to hear it” he said and you rolled your eyes. You folded your arms and said “so what? I cant go because you say so” “Ciri needs you! I ne- mmm. Go back inside, you’re not leaving” he said and you gasped.
He looked away, obviously shy and embarrassed and you blushed instantly. Did he really mean that? “Geralt…” you said and he ignored you. You walked over in front of him but he still wouldn’t look at you.
You cupped his cheeks and said “what were you going to say?” “I- I can’t. It’s- it’s not fair to Ciri” he said and you sighed. You looked over his facial expression and let go, slowly walking away. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.
He decided to just say it in case he never got the chance again, even though he was scared. “I need you, y/n! Alright? There, I said it” he said and groaned as if he was annoyed. You smiled then, just slightly as you stopped walking, butterflies swirling in your belly.
“I thought you didn’t need anyone?” You said as you walked over again. He looked away, feeling so embarrassed he could run away. You almost couldn’t tell, just a small furrow between his brows aside from his usually stoic expression.
“I also said I didn’t want anyone needing me but now Ciri doesn’t get to leave my side and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess I lied. And I need you.” He said and you nodded, taking a deep breath. You looked over at what he had already caught and said “alright, fine”
You began to walk away and yet again he pulled you back, pushing you against a tree as he cupped your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. He looked scared, and you were just about to tell him he didn’t have to do this but then he kissed you and your mind blanked.
He slowly and gently licked into your mouth, connecting your tongues as he caressed and squeezed your waist. You were blushing and smiling so hard as your tongues swirled together, his warm hands making the butterflies in your belly worse.
You pulled away, feeling your face was going to explode and he was only making it worse. “What?” He asked as you stared at him. You giggled and said “you’re smiling,” “no, I’m not” he said and blushed, kissing you again.
He never stopped touching you after that day. You tried to keep this new relationship from Ciri but not a week later she caught Geralt embracing you as you made breakfast. He knew you were upset at him, but he couldn’t help the grin on his face as you scolded him, knife pointing towards him with your hair in a messy bun from when you slept and your nightgown still draping over your beautiful body.
She seemed a bit confused about it, clearly distracted during lessons and keeping to herself for a while after that. You never heard the end of it considering Geralt lingered around you quite a bit and had become so talkative as he got more and more comfortable with you everyday.
Eventually she warmed up to your new relationship, especially since she was seeing it all the time everywhere every day. He couldn’t keep his hands off you to save his life. Quite literally, he almost got seriously injured trying to get you away from one of the many monsters he's fought and killed.
And now, it’s high noon and you’ve been stuck in bed underneath a giant white haired man. A little sex, and a lot of cuddling has gone on in the last 16 or so hours. You assume at least. You’ve been too busy with Geralt.
“You know, I thought when we started seeing each other romantically that we wouldn’t last because I would feel insecure due to the lack of attention you’d give me. The last thing I’d expected was this” you said, making him lift his head up.
He searched your eyes as he said “do you…not like it?” “No, no, I love it, I just- well…have you met yourself? You’re not exactly very affectionate to everyone you meet” you said and you both laughed.
“I just…love you so much” he said and you blushed. He’d told you it took him so many years to tell Yennefer he loved her and you two had only been romantically involved for a little over a year. And it’s been the best year of your life.
He trusted you so much. He chose to be vulnerable and he chose to be vulnerable with you. It was the greatest feeling ever. You’d never given him a reason not to trust you and as scary as it was he reacted directly to that fact every single day he was with you.
“I love you more. My sexy, white haired lover” you said and he blushed. You kissed him and he said “the only white haired lover you’ll ever have” “for the rest of my life” you finished, kissing all over his face.
He smiled and it made you blush. You couldn’t help it. 10 years could pass and you’d still feel so shy when you could make him smile. “As much as I do love this, I am quite hungry” you said and he sighed. He rested his head back on your chest for just a moment longer and then got up, looking around for his clothes.
You smiled, rolling onto your side and admiring his body. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, turning around. It was a little bit of a strain but you reached over and smacked his ass, making him gasp and reach over to the other side of you, doing the same.
You squealed, calling a truce because you knew how quick he could turn this dirty and your ass was already sore from being slammed against so many things last night and also from having you in- never mind. If you keep remembering you’ll only get yourself worked up again and then you’ll never leave this bed.
“Dirty girl,” he said, leaning down and kissing you once he got his clothes on. You curled up in bed for just a little longer, smiling at the fond memories of how amazing it’s been loving Geralt for the last 2 years. Even when you weren’t together, you did everything you could think of to subtly show your love for him. You wouldn’t trade him for the world.
As of now l'm writing for
Eddie Munson
Lo’ak
Neteyam
Sebastian Stan
Bucky Barnes
CW!Bucky Barnes
Chris Evans
Steve Rogers
Ari Levinson
Geralt of Rivia
Henry Cavill
So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)
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