#it looks like there's a pining geralt tag so you could check that out too if you want

[wren-of-the-woods]

Hello! Thank you so much for what you do- could I please have some recs for geraskier fics where geralt is the one pining harder?

Here you go!! I wasn't sure how to categorize who was pining harder in all of these (since our boys are masters of longing lol) but these are all stories where Geralt loves Jaskier very much, and I highly enjoyed them all!

~

favorite by @asweetprologue (Rated G, 5.8k)

Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out.

i’ll kiss you slow by @paintedcrayons (Rated T, 4.9k)

Geralt is not being creepy. He’s not. He’s just looking out for his friend (with a questionable choices in lovers). Lately, Geralt has started to notice the way people treat Jaskier’s affection like a means to an end. They kiss him only to move to the next step, dance with him as pretense to get him into their beds. He would like nothing more than to kiss Jaskier for the sake of it. (He does.)

time and time again by @samstree (Rated G, 5.2k)

Marriage proposals, through the years.

The Best Laid Plans by @dhwty-writes (Rated T, 5.5k)

Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

A Friend in the Wild by @samstree (Rated G, 1.6k)

In which Geralt acquires a tiny friend who wouldn't stop following him.

Weak and Wanting by @sociallyawkward--fics (Rated T, 36k)

Geralt had thought that inviting Jaskier to Kaer Morhen after all these years would be a good thing. What he didn't plan on was his brothers deciding to have a little fun with their situation. Lambert and Eskel really needed to stop meddling in things they didn't understand, especially when it came to his bard.

Tell It With Your Heart by @bambirex (Rated G, 2.5k)

While Jaskier always says what's on his mind, Geralt works a little differently. That doesn't mean he cannot tell Jaskier how he feels - he just does that without words.

Repeat After Me by @onwardorange (Rated G, 7.3k)

All it takes is (nearly) three years, two meddlesome brothers, and one exasperated sorceress to get Geralt to admit his feelings for Jaskier.

Love Me Better, Send A Letter by @rebrandedbard (Rated T, 12.5k)

Geralt and Julian have been exchanging letters since participating in an inter-school pen pal program in high school, and Geralt has been pining away for Julian for over a decade since meeting by chance one faithful day in Posada. Between work and Ciri, he hasn't had much time for travelling, but he and Julian still exchange their letters faithfully. Finally, Julian's equally busy life coincides with Geralt's long enough for a short visit, and Geralt has the chance to finally introduce Ciri to the man she knows only on paper. Things would be perfect ... if Julian's visit didn't fall within the week of the concert of Ciri's favorite musician, Jaskier.

Music is no solution by @thecrownprincessbride (Rated T, 4.3k)

Jaskier has self-doubts, and Geralt is there for him.

A Careless Omission by @samstree (Rated T, 5.4k)

Jaskier reveals he has a type. Geralt behaves strangely.

Highway Angel (To the Dark I Said Pour and Forgot to Say When) by @fangirleaconmigo T, 2.8k

Geralt is a long haul truck driver. With long stretches on the road away from his family, and with no one to keep him company but his loyal dog Roach, he has to brave most of his life completely alone. Then one day, just as he is passing the city of Oxenfurt, he turns on the radio and hears a voice.

zero for ten by @yaelathewordsmith (Rated T, 10.4k)

The blue-eyed boy on the school's cricket team seems determined to bowl Geralt out. The worst part is, he isn't even fucking trying. * Or, the ten times Jaskier held Geralt's heart in his hands without knowing, and how Geralt grew to want him to keep it.

~

(You can find my other reclists here!)

#geraskier #the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher #twn #wren recs #these are the ones i found searching my bookmarks but i'm sure there are many other good ones! so recs in the notes are highly welcome #it looks like there's a pining geralt tag so you could check that out too if you want #also i only noticed after i put this together that samstree is on it three times #you're the master of geralt pining jin XD #some of these probably appear on my other lists too but they fit the category so here you go! #thank you for this ask by the way!! i'd forgoten how much fun reclists are! #and i'm happy you thought of me <3 #reclists

[geraskierbrainrot]

This is a collection of Alternate Universe fics that happen in coffee shops where Jasier or Geralt are baristas

the wallpaper inside my heart by @echo-bleu | T | 6k

Jaskier is unfailingly kind, unfailingly cheerful, and unfailingly talkative. And he never, ever says anything about himself.

(not technically a coffee shop AU but this is my list so I do what I want)

Jitters by @lovelyrita1967 | T | 7k

Jaskier is an aspiring musician working in a coffee shop. Geralt is a fancy lawyer in expensive suits. It could never work between them… right? Jaskier turned and found himself looking up into the face of the most beautiful human being he had ever seen in his life. He felt his jaw drop, his cheeks flush a fiery red, and, had he been a cartoon, his eyes most certainly would have done that “boing-oing-oing” thing.  “Good morning!” Jaskier announced, perhaps a little too loudly, eyes a little too wide. “What can I get for you, sir?”  The man met Jaskier’s gaze, and he felt his cheeks burn even hotter. What was happening to him?  “Double espresso, to go. Please,” he rumbled, in the deepest, sexiest voice Jaskier had ever heard.

→ Follow The Sun | M | 7k

Jaskier is an aspiring musician working in a coffee shop. Geralt is a fancy lawyer in expensive suits. Against all odds, they have been dating for 4 weeks. Most of this fic is a flashback to Part 1 (“Jitters”), but this time it's from Geralt’s perspective, plus a little bit of his lawyer world with Lambert and Eskel. And then finally, we see where Geralt and Jaskier are now as their relationship gets a little more serious. (Hint: check the tags!) I would highly recommend reading “Jitters” first! Jaskier was standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Geralt’s penthouse condo, high above the lights of Kaedwen, admiring the view. Geralt was admiring the view, too, all long lines, sharp jaw, soft brown hair... Jaskier turned away from the window suddenly to look at him. “You look really fucking hot in that tux,” he said, voice low.

#blessed by aiyah | T | 7k

Sure, the pay at Yeast Meets Zest is great and all (and the food's even better, in Jaskier's opinion), but there's just one thing nipping at his nostrils: being allergic to the unfairly attractive customer who comes every Tuesday and Thursday. In hindsight, Jaskier should've applied to work at Starbucks instead.

Café Morhen series by musicalgalaxy1000 | 21k and ongoing

→ A Fine Night For A Song | G | 3k

Café Morhen is hosting an open mic night. A few new customers could be what keeps them afloat should the land lord raise the rent. Not too many people show up, but one new face in particular seems to want to stick around.

→ Can't Tune You Out | G | 1k

As tired as he is from closing the café from the Open Mic, Geralt can't fall asleep. There's a song stuck in his head.

→ Unexpectedly Sweet | G | 1k

Sometimes the only saving grace of working a minimum wage job was the consistency. Geralt should be fed up with Jaskier's increasingly insane drink orders, but he carries on anyway, learning to expect the unexpected.

The one day Jaskier tells Geralt to make him "whatever's easiest," he just can't bring himself to break the newest consistency in his life. So he makes the sweetest drink he can reasonably muster for a more than just regular customer.

→ Teasing and A Cup of Tea | G | 5k

Two oblivious men are pining for each other and are teased about it while also given reassurance. What are loved ones for?

→ A Call, A Confession, A Kiss | T | 9k

Geralt works up the nerve to text Jaskier, who had gotten a little tipsy while waiting for his crush to reach out. Geralt makes sure Jaskier gets home safe. And Jaskier finally gets to make a move.

i like you a latte (warning: hot contents) by rcfthns | Not Rated | 28k

“It’s not satisfying,” the man states, as he places the coffee on the counter and pushes it back to the barista. I can be satisfying!, Jaskier is about to say in response but bites his tongue at last. “Is there anything missing?” he asks instead.  “There is,” the man answers, shaking his head. He glances at the drink again, displeased. The look doesn’t suit him at all.  He deserves to be pleased. “Ah,” Jaskier acknowledges. The “ah”-s are very fitting around the man. Although “oh”-s would be even better. “I’m sorry, I’m just out of it today. What’s missing?” The man grins, leaning over the counter. “Your number.” Jaskier is a barista at a coffee shop and he isn’t (for sure isn’t!) in love with a customer.

Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading!

#geraskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic recs

[elliestormfound]

Ellie, my darling! For your mistletoe prompt! Jaskier gets a little bit tipsy and decides to cover himself in sprigs of mistletoe and Geralt has to kiss him for every one he takes off! (Like wrist kisses etc.) Bonus if Jaskier has mistletoe tucked into his butt bow! 💝

my dearest wolfie, thank you for this lovely prompt!!! <3  the fic that came out is not exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyway! 

this is just soft fluff

read on ao3

--------

Jaskier flitted through the library of Kaer Morhen, humming festive songs under his breath as he decorated the cozy room with fir branches, candles, dried orange slices, apples and paper stars he had made earlier.

Geralt stood unnoticed in the door for a few minutes, watching him. Jaskier had put on his burgundy doublet and trousers, elegant but sturdy leather boots that were lined with soft fur that Geralt made him buy for his first winter in Kaer Morhen and a dark green shirt was peaking through his open doublet. 

“Oh, Geralt, there you are,” Jaskier said with a beaming smile as he noticed the witcher. This smile made Geralt’s heart miss a beat and he coughed to regain his composure before he hummed in greeting. 

Jaskier spread his arms wide and asked, “and? What do you say? Do you like it?”

Geralt looked around and nodded appreciatively.

Jaskier had done a good job transforming the library - the room the witchers and the bard spend most of their winter evenings - into a festive hall. And it was not only looking good, the scent of pine needles, oranges and cinnamon hung in the air. It was just a faint scent, pleasant even for a witcher’s enhanced smelling.

“Its good.”

Jaskier shook his head but smiled and said, “oh Geralt, you are always so very eloquent.” 

A moment later Jaskier clapped his hands together and said,  “you must be sent by Melitele, I need help from someone tall and strong.” He winked at Geralt who raised an eyebrow at that. Jaskier grinned sheepishly and held up a sprig of mistletoe - or more like a whole bunch of sprigs. 

Geralt frowned and asked, “what do you want with that?” 

His heartbeat had picked up at the sight of the mistletoe and the thought of what custom was related to them. What was Jaskier planning?

“I cannot reach this beam.” The bard pointed up at the ceiling to a wooden beam with a conveniently placed hook where the witchers normally hung up herbs to dry. 

“Just the last touch of decorations,” Jaskier said.

Geralt looked at him for a moment longer, hummed and said,  “I get the ladder,” and turned to the door.

“Or,” Jaskier said, stopping Geralt midstep, “you could let me sit on your shoulders and lift me up.”

Geralt sighed and turned around. He looked at Jaskier who was smiling at him. Geralt wasn’t quite sure if he looked mischievious or...shy?

“No,” Geralt said. It came more out of reflex than an actual unwillingness to do what Jaskier had asked. 

“Oh, come on, Geralt, please,” the bard said and put on his best pout, complete with pleading puppy eyes, “I know how strong you are and I will be quick as a...nekkar.”

Geralt huffed. “Nekkars aren’t that quick.”

“Then I’ll be quick as a...squirrel,” Jaskier said with a satisfied grin.

Geralt frowned and sighed again for good measure before he let his eyes roll up and said, “okay, but be quick.”

He walked over in quick strides and lowered himself down on one knee. 

The bard smiled softly and said, “thank you, dear,” before he quickly slipped off his boots so he wouldn’t get dirt on Geralt’s shirt. Then he walked around him and climbed on Geralt’s shoulders, his leg’s left and right from the witcher’s head. When he was sitting in a comfortable position he placed one hand on Geralt’s head.

“Hold on,” Geralt said as he gripped Jaskier’s legs and slowly stood up. The bard giggled as he started to wobble a bit, but Geralt held on tight to his legs and placed his own feet firmly on the ground for better balance. 

“That is fun,” Jaskier said, patting Geralt’s head, “we should do that more often.”

Geralt grunted. “Not gonna happen. Are you finished?” 

“No,” Jaskier replied, “you need to go one... two steps to the right...yes, that is perfect! One moment.”

Geralt could feel the small movements of Jaskier’s body as he stretched up to the wooden beam to hang up the mistletoe.

Jaskier put one hand back on Geralt’s head and said, “you can put me down again, love.”

Slowly Geralt sank down to one knee once more and Jaskier climbed down. 

Geralt stood up and turned around and in that moment the hook in the beam came loose and the sprigs of mistletoe fell down - right on the bard.

Geralt smirked at Jaskier’s indignant squeal at the unexpected shower of mistletoe. There were leaves and berries in his hair and on his shoulders.

Jaskier pouted and looked heartbroken for a second before his gaze fell upon Geralt.

Geralt’s expression softened and he said, “I’ll help you get the stuff out of your hair.”

He made a step towards him but was stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Oh no,” Jaskier said, “it’s bad luck, you have to kiss me first.”

Geralt looked at him for a moment and asked, “kiss you?”

“Yes.” Now he was smiling mischievously. 

Geralt pointed at the beam where the hook had been, “you didn’t want to kiss me when you hung up the mistletoe and we were directly under it.”

“We were just hanging it up, that doesn’t count.” Jaskier grinned.

Geralt’s eyes wandered over Jaskier’s face, up to his hair and to his shoulders, surveying the mistletoe till they landed on Jaskier’s eyes again. Geralt cocked his head and hummed. 

Very quiet now Jaskier said, “actually you should give me a kiss for every leave you remove, just to be on the safe side.”

Geralt licked his lips and swallowed. 

“Just to be on the safe side,” he echoed. He was standing directly in front of Jaskier now. He smiled softly and expectantly up at him. 

So Geralt lifted his hand and carefully picked one leaf from his shoulder. He let the leaf fall to the ground, leaned forward and placed a kiss on the same spot, feeling the smooth silk of Jaskier’s doublet under his lips. Jaskier stood still, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

Geralt reached up and picked one of the white berries out of the brown hair and placed a kiss on that spot too. Jaskier hummed contentedly.

But a moment later Geralt took a sudden step back when he heard footsteps from the hall. Jaskier blinked his eyes open as Eskel walked in. The dark haired witcher stopped in the door and grinned as he saw the mistletoe mess on and around the bard.

“What happened here?” 

As Jaskier started to tell him, Geralt sneaked out, walking fast to his room. He shook his head. What did just happen?

--------

Some time later he heard a knock on his door. It was Jaskier. Instantly he started to talk about the rest of the decorations he had put up and the mulled wine he had prepared. He walked through Geralt’s room, gesturing wildly. 

He behaved as if nothing had happened earlier. Maybe it had been nothing, Geralt wondered.

Then Jaskier stopped in front of Geralt’s window and looked out into the dark, back to the witcher.

That was when Geralt noticed it. A small sprig of mistletoe neatly tied in the velvet bow on Jaskier’s pants, right above his butt. His very well rounded butt.

Geralt inhaled sharply and he tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly very dry. Jaskier turned around to him, a knowing smile on his face.

“Have you discovered my...decoration?”, he said in a voice as soft as the velvet bow, “I think the green goes rather nicely with the burgundy, don’t you think?” He pointed to his pants and wiggled his butt for emphasis. 

Geralt hummed. He took a few steps towards him before he finally said in a rough voice, “do you need me to...help you remove it?”

This time Jaskier hummed. “First I need your help here…” he said as he made the last step towards Geralt.

Jaskier lifted one hand and the witcher saw that he was holding another sprig of mistletoe in it. Slowly Jaskier brushed it over his own lips. Geralt’s eyes traced the movement.

“It would be bad luck if I wouldn’t,” Geralt said in a low voice.

“Bad luck,” Jaskier repeated.

Slowly Geralt lifted his hand and cupped Jaskier’s cheek. And then he was leaning forward and pressed his lips softly to Jaskier’s. 

The breath that escaped the bard’s lips sounded almost like a moan before he leaned into the kiss.

--------

 Check out my master list for more of my fics

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#witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #winter at kaer morhen #geraskier fluff #elliestormfound #prompt full #jaskierswolf #mistletoe prompt

[jaskierswolf]

I have a soft prompt if you like: the first time there was only one bed with Geralt and Jaskier (or Dandelion) 💝

You gave me the option of Dandelion.... I had to take it! Mutual pining time!! 💝 ___________ Geralt stared at the bed in front of him. He blinked a couple of times to make sure he hadn’t slipped into a nightmare, but sure enough the single narrow bed remained in the room.

“Great.” He muttered and dumped his swords by the rickety bedside table.

The room stank of sweat and sex, if he focussed his senses he was sure he’d be able to see the stains on the bumpy mattress. They’d paid enough coin for two beds and this sorry excuse for a room was barely worth the feather in Dandelion’s hat. The poet in question was still finishing up his performance downstairs but Geralt had been tired from his hunt and the potions he’d been forced to drink to stay alive, so he’d made his excuses and slipped upstairs.

It was better that way.

He wouldn’t frighten away Dandelion’s audience with his black eyes and painfully pale skin. He barely had the energy to pull off his armour and trousers before falling into the bed; too tired to worry about anything other than the pull of sleep at his consciousness. If there was a problem then he’d deal with it in the morning.

_______

Dandelion was merry with good wine and the thrill of performance by the time he stumbled up the stairs, his lute in one hand and his hat in the other. He’d noticed Geralt make his way upstairs earlier on in the evening. He’d very nearly stopped singing to go check on his friend but he had learnt that Geralt needed space first thing after a hunt. So he’d finished his set in a spectacular fashion before scurrying up the stairs.  It was dark in their room but the single rectangular shape of the bed was unmistakable. Dandelion’s eyes flashed around the room until he spotted Geralt’s swords. He was in the right room.

But there was only one bed.

One bed where the witcher was currently sleeping.

“Oh dear.” Dandelion hummed and gripped his hat tighter in his hands. “Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

He undressed enough so he would be comfortable before standing at the edge of the bed with his hands on his hips. He didn’t have Geralt’s witcher vision and struggled to see in the dark but even to his eyes it was obvious that Geralt was taking up almost the entire bed. He glanced behind him at the floor with a grimace. The floor looked terribly uncomfortable but he didn’t want to upset Geralt. It had been a long time since he’d had a friend like Geralt. He really didn’t want to lose him.

“Oh stop being such a coward, Dandelion.” He muttered and ran his hands through his hair. “You’ve shared bedrolls for warmth. This is no different.”

Geralt grunted in the bed and he shuffled over to make space for him. “Stop complaining and get in.”

Dandelion’s flicked out to lick his lips, a nervous habit he struggled to break. He swallowed and he knew Geralt must have been able to pick up on the spike in his heartbeat. “Oh, well.” He replied as nonchalantly as he could manage. “If you insist, Geralt.”

“I do.”

Dandelion beamed and slid under the covers next to Geralt. The witcher was now lying on his side facing the wall away from him. Dandelion fidgeted as he got comfortable. He struggled to work out what he should be doing with his arms. There really wasn’t enough space for the two of them on the bed and the only way he wasn’t going to fall out was if he pressed up against Geralt’s back. He’d laid with lovers like this before, and frequently but never Geralt. Still, he thought, needs must. He sighed dramatically before wrapping his arm around Geralt’s waist. Geralt didn’t complain and Dandelion just hoped his friend was already asleep. He couldn’t lose him, not now.

_______

Tag list: @abluescarfonwaston @artistsfuneral @slythnerd @elliestormfound @moonysourenza @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @lohrendrell @geraskier-trashh @00qtee @kittynannygaming

#the witcher #gerlion #geraskier #there was only one bed #le gasp #geralt of rivia #julian alfred pankratz #dandelion #geralt/dandelion #wolfie's witcher writing #I think this is the first time I haven't mentioned his curls #it's pre curls #so sad #mutual pining

[fandom-obessesive]

I never told you pt 2

—

A/n: here’s part 2! if you enjoy this and would like to be tagged for part 3(which will be posted tmr 7/8/20) just leave a little👋 emoji.I hope you guys enjoy and have a great day

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1160

Warning: Ends on a cliff hanger😢

—

The rest of the day you had been haunted by the look he gave you, the intensity sending shivers down your spine. You stayed after a bit to get caught up on anything else you had missed along with a promise to Chase about etching out the details for Saturday after you got home, it wasn’t long before you practically threw yourself onto your bed. Maybe it would have just been better if you had stayed home today. Instead of berating yourself any longer on decisions that could not be changed, you instead allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and let sleep take you somewhere less stressful.

Bzzt bzzt…..bzzt bzzt….....bzzt bzzt…………..bzzt bzzt

‘what the fuck’ you thought, irritated at being woken up. Flailing around in your sheets a bit before hearing a thud, you snatched your phone from the floor.

Today 6:43 pm

Heyyyyyy, you make it home okay?

Today 6:46 pm

Its Chase, from lunch by the way

Today 6:51 pm

Sorry that probably sounded a little weird,

a random number texting you to see if you

got home safe

Today 6:58 pm

Anyway, just checking to see if we’re still

on for Saturday haha

Today 7:01 pm

Yeah sorry, ended up taking a nap,

how does 11 sound? We could order

some pizza, maybe study a bit?

Today 7:03 pm

Sounds perfect!!! See you then:)

You smiled at his eagerness, finding it endearing. It felt nice being wanted after these past 2 weeks.

‘Welp, time to torture myself some more’ you thought throwing one of Paul’s sweatshirts on. You loved to steal them, especially since he was a big dude to begin with but always insisted on buying oversized ones. The material seemed to swallow you whole when you wore them. Bringing the fabric up to your face and inhaling, it still reeked of his cologne, pine, and salt.

‘I remember that day’

You and him had gone to the beach, him insisting it was going to rain and you just brushing it off saying it was always cloudy in La Push. He ended up being right and never took it back after seeing you shivering when you got inside his car.

“Don't leave me here, Paul!” You yelled as he got up and started sprinting to his Jeep as it started to pour.

“Wait” you could barely get the word out through your laughter as you got up to start running as well.

“Why are you so slow? You. Would. Be. Useless, if this was the zombie apocalypse” he yelled back jokingly running back towards you, opting to just throw you over his shoulder.

Rushing to the car, your laughter seemed to get louder as he made unintelligible noises trying to simultaneously unlock the car, open the door, and quickly seat you down. As he ducked in, looking over to you he put on as serious of a face as he could manage.

“When the time comes, I’m sorry to say, but you must be sacrificed” he said solemnly, slowly dragging his finger down his cheek.

“Dude if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna pee myself” you wheezed holding your stomach. He soon broke into laughter too, starting the car up. Without a word, he pulled the sweatshirt he had been wearing off before draping it over your head and began the 10 minute ride back to your house.

‘Still nice and warm‘ you thought, pressing your face into it. You pulled it on and smiled at him. The rest of the day had been spent eating junk food and watching The Witcher, with Paul commenting about Geralt's hair and what type of conditioner he uses, Ciri being the new Eleven, and mimicking Jaskiers songs, making his own up for the rest of the day.

That was one of your favorite memories with him, and unfortunately what seemed to now be one of your last. A frown tugged at your lips after the realization. You wondered if there was any way to capture the smell, maybe turn it into a spray so you wouldn’t have to forget.

Not for right now at least.

Running to the kitchen and grabbing some food, you quickly ate wanting to go back to bed so you could have a break from these type of thoughts that seemed to cloud your mind, and once again sleep was your only giver of peace.

----

Friday morning you spent almost a half hour just laying there debating if it was worth it to even go to school and risk a part 2 of yesterday.

‘I’ll just say I’m having a bad day and ask to do my work in the library’ you decided, almost forgetting to change out of his sweatshirt. Throwing on some sweatpants and one of your own sweatshirts, you got in your car and sped to school.

The day passed uneventfully, and just as suspected, you were able to hang out in the library for most of the day, haven been given a pass due to it being Friday.

As day became night, thoughts of Paul filled your mind, and you found yourself growing worried about tomorrow. You just didn’t know if you could afford anything else happening tomorrow.

‘Please let tomorrow go okay, that’s all I’m asking’ with those silent prayers in mind, you went to bed.

—-

11 rolled around sooner than you would have liked and Chase had arrived on the dot. You had to stifle a laugh when you first realized, also trying not to think about if he got here early so he could be on time. True to your word, you guys ordered some pizzas and studied most of the day, but you were also able to learn a lot more about Chase. It was actually kinda nice once he relaxed. He ended up leaving around 7 with an awkward hug and a promise to text you later and you were once again left alone.

‘Fuck this’ running upstairs, you grabbed Paul’s sweatshirt and headed out the back door.

Living near the woods definitely has its perks, like a trail behind your house to a clearing on the cliffs. You had discovered it when wondering around one summer and quickly made it a secret hideout for you and Paul. Paul was even able to bring over a bench that you and him painted. That summer had been one of the best, so carefree and filled with memories.

Making your way up the trail, you seem to have spotted the hunched over figure sitting in your bench a second too late. A little gasp left your mouth before you could stop it. You tried quietly leaving but before you could, he spoke up.

“I was wondering how long it would take him to leave” he said, standing up turning to face you.

———————————————————————

A/n: AHHHH IM SORRY, tmr tmr tmr tmr i promise!😂anyways I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget, if you’d like to be on the taglist simply leave a 👋 down below, thank you for reading, and have a great day😊❤️

Taglist: @chloe-skywalker @chiefjacob @fangirlanotherjust @jelly-fishy-babie @dillybuggg @Britty443 @ineedmorefanfics @lahoete

#paul lahote x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote oneshot #paul #wolfpack #wolfpack x reader #quileute #twilight fanfiction

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Snowed In pt 3

here we are again. more cramped quarters quarantine inspired pining because i couldn’t stop if i wanted to

Pairing: Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: other than the anxiety there’s none that I know of. if there are plz tell me tho so I can tag it

Summary: Snowballs. Need I expand?

part 2 here

The thing about anxiety is it’s a sneaky beast, yelling and crying would send it away for only a few hours at a time. So when the hollowness in your chest and erratic heartbeat slowly crept back over the next few days, you weren’t entirely surprised. 

You were surprised by Geralt. He’d become more and more physical as the days went by. Just a hand at your back when he passed you on the staircase or leaning his knee against yours at the dinner table, but it was consistent and comforting. You did your best not to read into it, convincing yourself it was a matter of living in close quarters for such a long time. Still, when he brushed your hair over one shoulder to fasten your blouse, you nearly shivered, praying to any god that would listen that he wasn’t paying attention to the goose-flesh in the wake of his touch. On night twenty-six, you felt him brush the stray hairs from your face when he thought you were asleep and cursed your heart for skipping a beat. 

In the morning, you woke with your back pressed against Geralt's. You were doing your best to convince yourself it was merely due to the dip in the mattress, not your body craving his touch. 

When you didn’t get up with him, he sat back down next to you and nudged your shoulder as if checking that you were awake.

“Hm?”

“You gonna get up today?” His tone was almost casual, just not enough to fool you.

You sighed, rolling onto your back to face him, “Doesn't seem likely.” 

He nodded, “Jaskier is a dumbass, but even he wouldn’t try the pass.”

You gave him a weak smile, patting his knee. Geralt had been attempting to be more reassuring as well. His words were a little rough around the edges, but they melted you nonetheless. It was terrifying, knowing you were tumbling into that void of infatuation without any way to stop your fall.

Geralt gripped your wrist like you were shaking on a business deal and hauled you into a sitting position, “At least come down to breakfast. Smells like porridge."

“You're a natural salesman." You teased, shuffling to the end of the bed where your pack was unceremoniously thrown on the ground.

Nothing was said at breakfast, but you let yourself sit a fraction of an inch closer than usual, the sleeves of your shirt brushing his as you ate, almost amused at how something so ridiculous felt like an indulgence. You didn't want to know if this thing between you two was just proximity and human nature taking its toll or if there might actually be something. So your only course of action would be to outwardly pretend there was nothing.

With a full stomach, you felt a little less hollow, and being upright for so long had given you enough momentum to follow Geralt out to the barn after breakfast. 

The snow was just over waist high on either side of the path that staff had shoveled to the barn. You skimmed your fingers over the little cliffs, watching the powder float away in the breeze. The cold was refreshing compared to the stuffy heat of all those bodies in the dining hall. Every breath of pine and what could only be described as after-snow-smell was helping to organize your thoughts.

"Don't you dare." Geralt warned, turning to face you with crossed arms. 

"Dare what?" You asked, crossing your own arms in natural defiance. 

"Snowballs." He answered as he nodded to the trail your fingers had left in the snow. 

You smirked, rocking to your other hip with an air of superiority, "I wasn't gonna." 

He pressed his lips into a thin line before turning on his heel to shove open the sliding barn door. 

The idea was just too inviting, and you could use a good laugh about now.

While the door was squeaking so he wouldn't hear it, you scooped up a chunk of snow and hucked it at him as hard as you could. It hit him right between his shoulder blades, sticking in his hair and turning the greyish blue of his tunic a navy hue. You stifled a laugh and slowly backed up a couple places, anticipating the retaliation.

He froze in place and for a moment you wondered if he even felt it. Before you could hope to duck out of the way he spun around and swiped at the bank of snow next to him, sending chunks and powdery snow flying into your face. 

You yelped, not bringing your arms up to shield yourself fast enough. Blinking away the melting crystals, you dove for the other side of the bank and packed a quick and lumpy ball together, hurling it in Geralt's direction without even bothering to aim. He sidestepped it easily and flung his own snowball, hitting you square in the chest. 

"Shit! That's cold!" You gasped, shaking the front of your blouse with one hand while you tried to form something worth throwing with the other. 

He beat you to the punch, sending another clump of snow your way, getting you in the hip. 

"I told you not to start." He chided, already leaning over the bank to reload. 

You saw your opportunity and took it without thinking. While he was leaning down and off-balance you lunged across the few feet between you and tackled him into the drift. 

Geralt went down like a sack of flour, swearing as he fell. 

You shreiked with laughter, landing half on top of him a good two feet deep into the snow, "Not so cocky now, huh?" 

He rolled back and simply pulled more snow on top of you, effectively burying your torso and thighs. The smug look on his face was downright infuriating and incredibly attractive.

You froze for a moment, before mimicking him, only burying his head and shoulders to give yourself time to plaster on your poker face. 

"Not fair! No faces." Geralt sputtered, wiping the snow out of his eyes.

"You got me in the face first!" You argued, scrambling to get up. 

He was too quick for you, though. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into him as he rolled to quite literally toss you in an untouched bank of snow a few feet away. 

You squealed, telling yourself it was just the shock of being airborne that had your gut twisting like that. 

Geralt popped his head over the bank, brows knit together and cheeks flushed from the cold. Relief washed over his face and he gave you one of those rare goofy smiles he flashed once or twice a month, "You went farther than I thought. Oops."

You couldn't help but laugh, flicking a bit of snow in his direction. He stood and trudged through the snow to you, offering you a hand up. You pulled yourself to stand, having to grab his other shoulder to steady yourself when you went past vertical. 

You almost leaned into his hold, almost pulled him close and buried your head in his chest like you wanted to; like you weren't just a friend. Almost.

You brushed the snow off your clothes to busy your hands, tearing your eyes away from his, "Farther than you thought? Is that a fat joke?" 

He scoffed, kicking his way through the snow and making a path for the two of you, "Fuck off." 

You hurried after him, "I'm kidding." You insisted, glad it was cold enough to blame the blush of your cheeks on something other than him. 

You fed the horses quickly, not bothering to take the time you usually would inspecting their hocks and feeling for any hot spots. It was too damn cold now that the snow had melted through your clothing. You were shivering by the time you locked Beau's stall door behind you. 

Geralt was waiting for you and frowned when he noticed your hands shaking over the latch. He didn't say a word, but fell into step next to you and snaked his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you walked. You wrapped both your arms around his waist, stealing as much of his ridiculously high body heat as you could. The chill took any last shred of shame you had left as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

"Next time I'll dress warmer." You muttered, the awkward angle making it harder to walk, but the warmth was ever so worth it. 

"Or don't pick a snow fight?" He offered, gently squeezing your shoulder and pushing the door open with his other hand. 

"I really wasn't thinking about it till you said something." 

The humm he gave you in response told you he didn't believe you.

_________

Part 4 here!

#Geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fan fic #the witcher one shot #geralt one shot #wait a minute this cant be considered a one shot anymore can it #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fan fic #geralt x reader fic #goofy geralt #soft geralt #two of my favorite geralts #im too lazy to tag anything else

[whitewolfandthefox]

My Guardian Angel

Prompt: Anonymous - hey!! would it be alright if I requested a songfic for Geralt x reader, the song I want is Your Guardian Angel by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. I was hoping for some angst where Geralt is pining after the reader

Summary: After many years, you and Geralt run into each other when he is hired for a contract. The love that the two of you had had prior blossoms again, but not without its setbacks. Is the love that you and Geralt had years earlier enough to overcome the obstacles the world is determined to set in your way?

Words: 8.4 k

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of abuse, death, injury, illness, angst, not a happy ending

A/N. I hurt myself writing this, sorry guys. You said angst and I took it and ran. Woops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I actually hadn’t heard this song before, so it was a nice challenge for myself!

Add yourself to the tag list here!

Thank you to @bastardfruitsandbasil for helping me figure out the fight scenes!

My Guardian Angel

Geralt was tired. He had been on the road for days, having heard of a long term contract with a significant reward. When he had finally reached the castle where the contract was based out of, he was told to wait in an antechamber until someone would meet with him.

He had been pacing for at least half an hour when you finally slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind you before looking up at him.

“Sir Witcher, how kind of you - Oh! Geralt!” Geralt could see a flush come over your cheeks when you realized it was him. Relaxing slightly now that it was someone he knew, Geralt allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

“It’s been too long, Y/N. It is good to see you again.” At the sound of his low voice, you flushed further before gesturing at a small table in the corner of the room. Geralt knew there was a map on it, having examined the room while he waited, but followed you over nonetheless. Leaning against the table slightly, you began to speak, telling Geralt of the monsters that had been attacking various villages in the kingdom. 

“They had just been attacking the outskirts of small towns, taking livestock and supplies originally. Lately, though, they have been taking people. There have been seven villagers killed in attacks, and countless more injured. There are several people missing as well, we don’t know if they have been taken or if they have been- oh!” you were cut off as another man in armour entered the room and came up behind you, grabbing your waist and spinning you around harshly before pinning you to his chest as he kissed you.

He released you, allowing you to stand beside him, though keeping a hand on the small of your back. You offered Geralt a tight smile as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “Geralt, I would like you to meet my husband, Sir Livialli. We were married last year.”

As the man smirked at him, Geralt felt a flash of hot something go through him with the news. “I offer you my congratulations,” he ground out. You thanked him politely, the lines around your eyes getting harder with the phrase. 

Sir Livialli turned to you, dismissing Geralt. “You have informed him of the contract, yes? Discussed payment? Told him what is expected?”

“I-” you tried to reply.

“Good, good. Well, don’t forget that you will be serving dinner for the both of us in my quarters tonight. I have spoken with the cook and he is expecting you to pick up the tray at dusk.” With that, Sir Livialli pivoted sharply and left the room, not waiting for a reply.

You sighed, turning to Geralt as you pasted a smile on your face. He could tell that it was forced, you looked tired under your facade. He frowned at you, silently asking a question.

Dropping into a chair along the wall, you ran a hand over your face before looking up at Geralt as he moved to the chair next to yours. “He means well, he’s just used to having servants. We are just staying here, this isn’t our manor. The king has asked that my husband help out with the monster problem as he is a proficient knight.” You rolled your head so Geralt was in your gaze. “You will likely be working with him at some point.”

Geralt grunted in response as you fell silent. Observing you, he could see the underlying exhaustion in your posture, could see the stress lines that had gathered on your face. You looked so different from when you two had first met several years earlier.

Geralt looked up sharply as the door to his room opened before you stepped in, a tray of food and medicine in your hands. You smiled brightly at him, ignoring the scowl that appeared on his face at the sight of visitors.

“It’s time for your medicine, Geralt.” you almost sang, “I need to check your bandages as well.”

You flounced over to his bed, setting the tray down on the table next to it as you gestured for the man to sit up. Gently, you peeled the layers of cloth back, clicking your tongue when the wounds were revealed. “They are almost healed, love, you’ll be back on your feet and out and about in no time. There is no bleeding either, so I won’t have to change them just yet.” You quickly and efficiently wrapped the bandages back around his torso, your fingers gentle and your demeanour holding no fear.

You stood from where you had sat on his bed to check his bandages, turning to regard him once more. “You are too pale, Witcher, you should get some sunlight.” Pursing your lips at the lack of reply, you shook your head before turning and heading for the door.

“Wait.”

The low voice stopped you with your hand on the doorknob. You turned your head slightly, regarding the man out of the corner of your eye.

“If it would be ok with you… I would appreciate- that is, if you didn’t mind..”

“Spit it out, Geralt, I won’t bite.” You turned to face him fully, a small smile on your face to sharpen the blow of your words.

“I have been in bed for a while, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mind helping me outside. To the gardens maybe?” Geralt looked unsure at his request, wondering if he had taken your comment for what it was meant to be.

A smile split your face, lighting up the room and causing Geralt’s heart to speed up slightly. You practically floated back over to the bed, swiping his shirt from a chair as you went. “I thought you would never ask.”

That day was the first of many ventures out to the garden and beyond.

The two of you had met while he was recovering at a Temple of Melitele where you had been studying healing. You had been one of the only healers who had been comfortable around him, and eventually the only one he trusted with his care. A fragile love had blossomed between the two of you that consisted of walks, stolen nights, and soft whispers in the mornings. You had agreed to part ways when he was healed, as you would soon be heading back to your family and Geralt back out into the hunt. There was an unspoken if at your parting, a small hope that you might see each other again.

It seemed that fate was a cruel mistress though, bringing the two of you back together sooner that you could have hoped, but ensuring you couldn’t be together through your marriage. 

Geralt came back to the present with a frown on his face, which only deepened as he compared his memories of you to the figure in front of him. “How have you been? Since you left the temple?”

You sighed again, shaking your head with a strained smile. “I have been good, Geralt. I learned much, and have been lucky enough that Sir Livialli allows me to continue working with our people. I have been able to heal a great many of the king’s subjects with my knowledge.”

Squinting his eyes at you, Geralt nodded, although he didn’t believe you. As if you knew he didn’t believe your words, you stood, brushing your skirt off. “Well, if you will excuse me Geralt, I have many matters that I need to attend to. Perhaps I shall see you in passing while you are here.”

Geralt stood as well and took a step towards you, frowning when you flinched and took a small step back. Slowly, he reached for your hand, something releasing in his chest when you relaxed and allowed him to lift it to his lips, flushing when he pressed a soft kiss to your palm. “I hope to see you around, my lady.”

A small smile graced your lips as you gently withdrew your hand, ducking your head as you left the room. The softness in Geralt’s face slowly melted behind your back, upset that seemed so tired in such a short time, confused that you flinched away from him when you never had before, dismayed at the prospect that you had already moved on from him. He resolved to seek you out again, to make sure that you were ok with the life you had now. 

**~*~*~*~**

After you left, Geralt met briefly with the king before he asked to be pointed in the direction of the most recent attack. Seeing the late hour, the king said that he would have Geralt escorted to the scene first thing tomorrow morning, but suggested that he get some rest this evening. Annoyed, but seeing the reason in it, Geralt retreated to the rooms he had been given for the duration of his stay. 

Once there, he lay down in bed, closing his eyes to try to go to sleep, but his mind kept returning to you. He kept comparing the memories of the bright, young woman he remembered from the temple to the worn down person he had met today. He couldn’t reconcile what had happened to you, what had been done to make that excitable healer into what he had seen today.

You flung your arms out the side, narrowly missing Geralt’s face as you collapsed backwards into the soft grass. He allowed a rare smile to grace his lips, amused with your antics. Rolling to your stomach, you lifted your head to peer at the Witcher. What started as a chuckle turned into a full blown laugh as he saw the pieces of grass stuck in your hair. Scowling, you swatted at him in retaliation. Gently, he brushed you off, reaching to pull the pieces of grass from your head.

Settling, you tugged on Geralt’s hand, pulling him down next to you, snuggling into his side once he was settled. “I can’t wait to be out in the world, to be able to explore and see all of the sights. And to help people! I’ll be able to use what I learned here to help my people, no one will suffer a hurt if I can help it.”

Nosing your hair, Geralt smiled down at you. “And what a wonderful healer you will make.”

You had been so excited about leaving the temple. You had been sad to see him go, but the two of you understood that your lives were headed in very different directions. There was always that underlying hope that you would see each other again, that fate might have more written for you. It seemed that she did, though not in the way either of you had anticipated.

Rolling out of bed, Geralt shook the memories from his mind. Realizing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night, he attended to his gear, checking his armour and sharpening his weapons in anticipation of morning, falling into a slight meditation as he focused on the repetitive actions.

A knock roused him from the light trance he had fallen into, a servant with a tray of food and the message that a guide would be by to retrieve him in half an hour. It was a quick trip to the village, Geralt being left at the scene of the attack as the guide quickly left him, glancing nervously around him as he guided his horse back towards the castle.

Dismounting and tying Roach to a nearby stand, Geralt surveyed the town. It was deserted, houses locked and dark, streets empty of people. Hearing voices, he moved further into the town, following the low murmur towards a large house in the centre of town. As he walked, he could see evidence of the attack. Blood splatters stained walls, weapons littered the ground along with anything else the villagers had been carrying when the monsters attacked.

He could see the claw marks on the walls, the creature obviously very violent. He needed to see the bodies of the victims, needed to determine just exactly what was causing this much damage. Reaching the source of the noise, he was surprised to see you there. You were directing various healers, organizing the chaos, a bloodstained apron covering your front. Your sleeves were pushed up past your elbows, blood staining your hands, hair falling from where you secured. The beds behind you were full of people, some more injured than others. The healers worked frantically, trying to save as many as they could. You looked harried as Geralt approached you, directing a young healer to go boil more water.

“Y/N.” you jumped at your name, spoken in the low voice you still heard in your dreams. Turning, you saw Geralt standing behind you, dressed in full armour. 

“Oh, Geralt.” you glanced behind you as your name was called. “One moment!” you turned back to the Witcher in front of you. “What did you need?”

“I need to examine the bodies to determine what did this.” He felt his chest tighten as your face fell. You wiped your hands off on your apron, catching another healer as he went past. 

“I am going to show the Witcher the bodies, I will be back in a moment.” the frazzled healer nodded, before continuing in the direction he had been going. Turning, you led Geralt back out of the door of your temporary hospital. You turned and headed towards the edge of town, the sounds fading the farther away you got. Geralt trotted after you, content to remain silent, knowing you needed it after the harried morning you were sure to have had. 

“They were ravaged, Geralt.” He jumped as you broke the silence, before frowning at your defeated tone. “The monsters’ claws cut through skin and muscle like paper, so many people died just from their wounds.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “We also found some bodies drained of blood. Mainly young males. Their bodies weren’t as bad, but they were emptied. I think it's some sort of vampire.”

“It sounds like it, I would still like to see the bodies and confirm. The best would be to see the creatures, but that would require another attack and we don’t want one anytime soon.” Geralt’s frown grew as you shrunk in on yourself, stopping a few meters away from a dark house just outside the treeline. Realization dawned on him when he could smell the scent of blood coming from the house. He glanced back, seeing that the town was out of sight around the bend they had just followed, in the hopes other villagers would not wander across the dead.

“We haven’t had a chance to bury them yet.” You wouldn’t look at him, tears in your eyes as you fought to control your emotions. Shaking yourself, you went to the door and lifted a lit torch from its holder before entering, lighting more torches as you went. Geralt followed you, observing the various pallets that held sheet covered bodies.

Pulling one back, he winced as he saw the face of a young woman frozen in a scream, her chest cut open revealing the layers of muscle and bone. After examining the wounds, Geralt recovered the body, moving to the next pallet. This one held a young male, mostly uninjured. The white pallor of his skin betrayed the cause of death, the body had been drained of blood. Looking closer, Geralt could see a bite mark at the base of his neck, sharp teeth marks deep in the skin.

Standing, he turned to face you who had retreated to the doorway, gazing out into the forest. “It’s definitely a vampire, although of which grade I am not sure. It might be a bruxa or a higher vampire. Do you have any victims who would be willing to talk to me, to tell me what they saw?”

You glanced over your shoulder at him, refusing to turn and look at the bodies, postured rounded under the stress. “There may be a few, some people we are treating were on the edge of the attack and not injured as extensively. I can ask when we go back.”

Nodding, Geralt approached you, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the hospital. The walk back was silent, Geralt glancing occasionally at you. As you reached the bend, Geralt stopped suddenly, you taking a few steps before realizing he was no longer beside you.

“What-” you stopped speaking, seeing Geralt tense, staring at the trees on the side of the path. You realized the forest had fallen silent, no birds singing or animals calling for their mates. Unconsciously, your hand drifted to the short sword you had strapped to your waist, thankful that you had insisted on silver. Your husband had protested, saying you wouldn’t need it, but you fought for it, one of the fews things you didn’t back down on.

Suddenly, a dark figure with wings leapt out of the trees, knocking Geralt to the ground as you shrieked. “Run Y/N!” he growled, throwing the figure from him and rolling to his feet, unsheathing the silver sword on his back in one fluid motion.

Turning, you started in the direction of town, stopping quickly when three more figures dropped down in front of you. You stumbled back towards Geralt, drawing your sword from its sheath, gripping it in both hands. The lead creature flared it's dark wings, opening its mouth to release a screech, displaying a mouth full of sharp teeth. The creature was pale, long dark hair covering its shoulders, ending at halfway down the humanoid’s chest, ribs on display. Wrinkled skin covered every inch, dried blood covering its chin and chest.

The creature screeched again, darting at you with a hand ending in a claw raised to attack. You ducked under the strike, bringing your sword up to slash its ribs as it went past you, pivoting on your heel and back away to keep the two sets of creatures in your sight. You could feel Geralt approaching your left side, sword held out in front of him.

“Stay close to my side, we need to keep them in front of us.” Geralt’s voice rumbled out next to you, making you jump at the abruptness of his voice. Breathlessly, you voiced your agreement before dancing to the right, stabbing up at the creature's chest as it lunged at your pair, as Geralt brought his sword down in a chopping motion, severing its head from its body.

Pulling your blade out, the two of you moved clear of the body, turning back to back as the three remaining monsters separated, two moving to flank you on either side as the third remaining motionless, tilting its head to observe you.

You felt Geralt shift his weight behind you as you watched the two creatures to either side of you, dodging as you heard the man behind you roar “left!”

You moved, the monster to your side attacking, claws swiping at your body. You slashed as it passed, cutting into its arm, leaving the limb hanging useless at its side. You could hear the dying screech of Geralt’s creature, feel him move to stab the creature that just passed you. The monster backed away from Geralt towards you, you swiftly moved out of its way, losing the protection Geralt had provided at your back.

As you moved, you suddenly became aware of the fact that there had been four creatures attacking. You and Geralt had dispatched two and he was occupied with a third, so where was the fourth? Spinning at the feeling of a presence behind you, you desperately brought your sword up to block the claws that were striking in your direction. You managed to catch the arm and redirect it slightly, but it wasn’t enough to keep you entirely unharmed. 

A wave of hot pain washed over you as the monster’s claws bit deep into your arm and side, blood blooming on the cloth. You released a shout at the feeling, switching your sword to just your right hand, ducking and stabbing at the humanoid as it rushed you again, feeling your sword strike true.

Releasing the hilt, you staggered backwards, clutching at your side as your head spun with the pain. Geralt was quick to grab you as you swayed, he must have dispatched the other monster without you noticing. His hands frantically roamed your body, searching desperately for the source of the blood. You swatted his hands away, staggering a few meters to sit on a nearby rock. Not that the pain was setting in, it was like a wave of cold water flowing over you, clearing your mind briefly. You knew you had minutes before the shock set in.

Reaching to the pouch you kept at your waist, you ripped it off and handed it to Geralt who was hovering anxiously, hands outstretched to do what, you weren’t sure. Reaching down, you ripped the bottom of your tunic off before pressing it against your side, Geralt doing the same with his outer layer, having stripped his upper armour to get at it. You swayed again, Geralt lunging at you to keep you upright.

“There are herbs in my bag, they will help staunch the bleeding.” Leaving Geralt to scramble through the pouch you’d handed him, you peeled the ripped cloth away from the wounds on your arm and your side, wincing when you saw the torn skin. Looking more closely, the wounds weren’t too deep, they just bled freely. A broad hand entered your vision, holding the herbs to help stop the bleeding. Taking them with a murmur of thanks, you began pressing the herbs against your side to staunch the bleeding, watching as Geralt moved away to examine the bodies. 

The world spun around you as you pressed the cloth back over the herbs, seeing the bleeding slowing. All of a sudden, Geralt appeared in your vision again, crouching in front of you with a concerned look on his face. You could see his lips moving, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Focusing hard, you finally made out what he was saying. “We need to get you out of here, get you somewhere safe.”

Dazed, you nodded absently, hand reaching up to grip Geralt’s shoulder to help you stand. His arm snaked around your side, replacing your hand as he put pressure on your side. You staggered slightly, leaning on the large man next to you for support. Slowly, the two of you made your way back to town, you insisting on stopping at the hospital to check on your patients.

When you got there and your fellow healers saw your state, your quick check-in turned into an extensive medical check as they cleaned and stitched your wounds before finally allowing you to leave with Geralt after bandaging your arm and your side. You half-led, half-stumbled to a house nearby, mumbling that one of your patients told you to use their house. Geralt was almost hauling you at that point, carrying you through the door before settling you down on to the pallet in the bedroom. You blinked up at him, shivering from the blood loss. As he retreated, you reached up to grab at his hand, stopping him. “Stay, please?” you asked softly.

Geralt stopped, hesitation on his face. You tugged on his hand again, and he went with you, laying down next to you as you shuffled backwards into his chest. His arm came around to hold you against him, cognizant of your injuries. You sighed, body relaxing into him as the two of you succumbed to sleep.

**~*~*~*~**

The next morning, you slowly rose to consciousness, aware of a large, warm weight pressing you down. You shifted, and then winced as your movements caused sharp pain to shoot through you. “Are you awake, mouse?” a deep voice rumbled from above your head.

Slowly opening your eyes, you took stock of your surroundings as the memories from the previous night came back to you. You smiled at the nickname, remembering the secret nights that gave you your nickname. Rolling stiffly so as to avoid agitating your injuries, you turned to your other side to face Geralt. His golden eyes gazed at you softly, “How are you feeling?”

You sighed, “I’m sore, but not in too much pain. I will be fine in a few days.”

He nodded, “Good.” His arms tightened around you briefly before releasing you as he stood up and left the bed. You sat up slowly, wincing as you stretched your arm. Geralt returned to the bed, handing you your pouch of herbs. You thanked him silently, searching for your painkillers.

“The monster was a bruxa.” You glanced up at him as he started speaking. “We knew it was a vampire, now we know which grade. They can only be killed by silver.” he glanced at your sword leaned up against the wall. “Which thankfully you had.”

You sighed, “A bruxa. And it looked like there was a pack of them.”

Geralt watched you as you rolled your shoulder with a wince before standing and striding to the wall and strapping your sword back on. “I should let the king know, he will be interested in what monster is plaguing our kingdom.”

Geralt watched your slow movements with an intensity you couldn’t interpret. “I missed you.”

Your head shot up, not expecting an admission like that from him. You stared at him, watching as he moved closer to you. His hands came up to cup your face, your own latching onto his wrists as you stared at each other. “I missed you as well,” you whispered. “It was so hard to leave, not knowing if I was going to see you again.”

“I know.” his breath brushed against your lips as he brought his face to capture you in a kiss. You melted against him, body relaxing into his broad chest, eyes fluttering shut as a warm feeling came over you.

You sighed into Geralt’s mouth, savouring the feeling that you had missed, that you had longed for. His hands left your face, arms coming to wrap around you, holding you close to him, your hands resting on his chest as you parted, leaning your head against his shoulder, content in each other’s presence.

As you relaxed further, you realized what you were doing. You ripped yourself away from him, panic and fear taking over your being. You stumbled, flinching when Geralt’s hands came out to steady you, backing away further. You tried to ignore the hurt that flashed through his eyes before a stony mask came over his face.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, I can’t, you, we can’t, I have to go.” You turned to rush for the door, being stopped by Geralt’s hand grasping your wrist. You tugged, trying to free yourself, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Why? What did I do?” He asked of you, trying to understand what had changed.

“I have a husband, Geralt, I must be faithful.” You replied wearily, ignoring the hurt that went through you at the sound of his voice.

“He doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, mouse, please.” His voice was ragged, pleading with you to stay. Your heart clenched at the use of your nickname.

“You don’t understand, I don’t stay for me.” With that, you wrenched your arm out of his grasp and fled, hot tears running down your face.

**~*~*~*~**

Geralt tried to speak to you after the incident, not content with the explanation given. It had felt right to have you in his arms, he had the most restful sleep that he had had in years with you. He didn’t understand what had changed. You had loved each other and you very clearly were uncomfortable with your husband. Why you had married him in the first place, he had no idea.

The first couple of days Geralt barely saw you. You would leave the hall when he entered, you wouldn’t come down for meals, and he heard whispers that you had taken ill. He didn’t have a chance to seek you out, spending his afternoons and nights hunting for the pack of bruxa in the forest and sleeping through the mornings to recover. You began to spend more time in court, but he was still unable to find a time to speak to you.

He would see you across the hall, speaking with other ladies of the court. You would look up and see him, sending him a sad smile when your eyes would meet, but whenever he tried to approach you you would disappear, making excuses to the women you were with. They would always apologize to him for you leaving, saying that you had something to attend to, but there was an underlying sadness when they spoke.

Geralt didn’t understand, normally he was met with hostility and distrust, never with this gentle sadness and understanding. The women never shied away from him, but would approach him and make conversation whenever he would try to speak with you, allowing you an escape. Finally, frustrated with being unable to speak to you for days, he asked one of the ladies he often saw you speaking with.

“She can’t talk to you dear,” the lady explained, glancing around as she dropped her voice. “Her husband was furious when she didn’t return to the castle that night, even though she was injured. He has said they will be returning to their manor as soon as the monsters are taken care of, dreadful things. The poor darling was so distressed after the attack she rarely left her room for days.”

Realizing it was your husband preventing you from speaking to him, Geralt felt a shallow hope ignite itself in his chest. You clearly didn’t love your husband, he could offer for you to come with him, leave this life. You had always wanted to travel, and this could be your opportunity. With this resolve, Geralt renewed his effort to speak to you. For all his efforts, you had suddenly disappeared, and even the ladies who had been so kind to him wouldn’t say anything. When asked their faces would drop and they would shake their heads, but refuse to speak of you. He decided that if you wouldn’t go to him he would just have to come to you.

**~*~*~*~**

You closed your balcony doors behind you, allowing yourself a reprieve from the man in your chambers. Walking to the railings, you slumped against them, posture tired. You pulled your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You didn’t hear the sounds of someone climbing over the edge until a hand entered your vision, resting itself on your arm. Frightened, you spun away, mouth opening to scream for help, before freezing as you realized it was Geralt. 

Folding in on yourself in defeat, you dropped into the chair next to you, Geralt coming to kneel beside your feet. “You have been avoiding me, mouse. What has happened?”

You can’t be here, it's not safe.” You whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. “You need to leave, Geralt, before he finds you.”

With a growl, you sensed him send a glare at the closed doors. “He poses no danger to me, I could care less if he sees me here. I am visiting an old friend, what is so wrong with that.”

Exploding out your chair, you dropped the shawl as you strode away before spinning back to pierce with Witcher with a glare. “It is not you who is danger, but me! He does not want me seeing you, Geralt, just leave! Before you do any more damage!” 

Geralt froze as your shawl fluttered to the ground, revealing what you had been trying to keep from him. He thought back to the previous week, remembering that even though the days had been warm, you had dresses with long sleeves and high collars while the rest of the women wore less. He remembered the gentle way they had handled you, no one coming up from behind you, making sure they always approached you from the front.

His eyes raked over you as your thin nightgown revealed the bruises, handprints around your wrists and throats, your arms covered in blotchy black and blue. A growl erupted from his throat as he strode towards you, his mind registering that you didn't flinch away from his approach. Gently, he took one arm, a shiver running through you as he gently brushed his fingers over the wounds that adorned you.

“Why?” his voice was broken when he asked, eyes full of despair at your situation. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook your head, unable to find the words to answer that question.

“Love, you can’t stay with him if this is how he treats you. Come with me. The contract is almost done, we have a general idea of where the nest is, once I have disposed of it I am free to go. I could take you anywhere you wanted. We could travel, see the world. I could set you up as a healer in an apothecary. Anywhere but here, mouse, you know you can’t stay.” 

Geralt caught you as you collapsed into his arms, sobs wracking your body as the dreadful sounds forced their way out of you. Gathering you, he settled himself into the chair you had vacated, arranging you on his lap as you cried, your body shuddering with the force of your grief. He let you, just holding you, supporting you as you released the emotions that had been building up, unable to release them to anyone. Shushing you, he stroked your hair as you quieted, exhausted from your outburst.

Wiping your tears, you squirmed, trying to sit up. Geralt helped you, releasing a grumble when you stood and turned to the railings, out of his reach. Standing, he followed you, but didn’t touch as you shifted away from him.

“I can’t leave, Geralt.” Your voice was tired, defeated. “There is something that keeps me here, something I need to stay for.”

“What are you staying for?” He was starting to get agitated, upset at the thought of you being with that monster any longer. “You have no family here, your husband abuses you, what could possibly be so important that you can’t leave him?”

You refused to look at him, again shifting away as he reached for you. The movement filled him with rage.

“Or is it that I’m the Butcher of Blaviken, the Witcher with no feelings?” He hissed, ignoring the flinch that his words drew from you. “Have you forgotten the months we spent together at the Temple, the love that we had? You can just say you despise me, you have no feelings for me. Don’t lie to me, Y/N, if you have turned against me as well.”

You came alive at that, spinning to face him, eyes flaring with anger. “You don’t understand,” you spat, “I don’t stay because I want to, I stay because I have to. I have to protect what’s mine. You don’t understand the position I am in, you could never understand.”

You sighed, closing your eyes at the expression of disbelief on Geralt’s face. “Just- just leave me, Geralt. Please.” Your voice broke. “I will be fine, just… go.” 

With that, you turned and entered the room behind you, leaving Geralt stunned on the balcony.

**~*~*~*~**

Your words bit deep, saying that he could never understand what you were going through. If anything, Geralt thought he was one of the only ones who could understand, having been torn from his family and forced to endure the abuse that came with the trials and training to become a Witcher. He didn’t seek you out for days, still angry that you wouldn’t explain what was going on.

He spent his nights hunting the bruxa, disposing of them with a brutal efficiency that even he was shocked at. On his way back in the mornings, he would stop and stare at your balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He tried to ignore the whispers about you in court, saying that you no longer left your rooms, you pleaded sick when anyone asked you to join them. He ignored the glances of pity the women sent his way, filled with something he didn’t understand.

It was days before Geralt saw you again, you were walking through one of the gardens in the court grounds, accompanied by one of the maids. As he approached, he could see you leaning on the woman next to you, pale and out of breath. Again, you were wearing a long sleeved, high collar dress.

You glanced up at his approach, and seeing him, quietly spoke under your breath to the woman. She frowned at you, asking a question back. You smiled softly, squeezing her arm as you nodded, before she seemed to acquiesce, staring at Geralt as she let you go. She stopped next to Geralt as she passed him, glaring up at him. “You take care with her, Sir Witcher, make sure that she doesn’t tire herself out.” She spoke before continuing, disappearing out of sight as she turned a corner on the path.

Geralt turned back to you, rushing forwards as you swayed, offering you an arm to lean on. You patted his arm, breathlessly pointing out a bench a few meters away. As he moved the pair of you towards it, Geralt examined you with a frown. He could see the edges of a bruise peeking up over your collar, and you were paler than before, highlighting the edges of a black eye that you had tried to cover with makeup.

“How are you, Geralt? Have you been able to take care of the bruxa? I haven’t been able to make it back to town to see how my people have been doing.” You spoke softly, unable to catch your breath to finish a full sentence.

He stared at you in disbelief. “You are worried about your people? What about you, Y/N? He is killing you, you can’t stay!”

You ignored his question, again asking about your people. Geralt assured you they were fine, that they were healing before returning the subject to you. “Even the ladies in the court are worried. A few of them asked me if I had spoken to you. You need to care for yourself, not just your people.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand. No one understands. I can’t leave him, I have to protect what’s mine.”

“Then tell me!” Geralt all but roared, before regretting his tone as you flinched. He softened his tone, eyes desperate. “Mouse, please, help me understand. If I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t help you. Please, let me help you.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you collapsed into his side, burying your face in his chest, his arms coming around your back to support you. He gently rubbed circles into your back, soothing you as you cried. You quieted down after a while, leaving your head resting on his chest as you spoke. “I have a daughter.”

Geralt froze, understanding flooding him at your statement. You shifted, struggling to sit up as he guided you with his hand. “We met a few years ago, he was kind and caring. My parents were thrilled, a knight!” You laughed hollowly. “He just wanted someone to play with. After a few months, we were out for a walk in the woods and he-” you cut yourself off with a sob, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

Geralt growled at this admission, rage filling his chest. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you into his side as if he could protect you from the world with that action. You took a deep breath, calming yourself as you continued.

“I refused to see him after that, my parents didn’t understand why I had suddenly cut off my relationship with him. Until I missed a cycle. I had always wanted a baby, just not that way. When my parents found out, they spoke to his father and arranged our marriage, not wanting to bring a scandal between the two of us. People had been curious, we had spent a lot of time wandering our town.”

You glanced up at him, frantic to make him understand.. “Once we were married, I thought it would be fine. He was kind to me while I was pregnant. It was only a few months ago that he started getting physical with me. But he started threatening her, my little Corinna, and I couldn’t let him hurt her! If he is too busy with me, he won’t touch her! Please Geralt, he can’t hurt her. I can’t leave, he’d kill her! She’s eight months old, she doesn’t deserve this.”

Again, you dissolved into tears, sobbing against his chest as his arms came up to protect you from the evils in this world.

**~*~*~*~**

You had been exhausted from crying, so Geralt had returned you to your rooms. The maid that had been with you at first was waiting by your door, sending Geralt a glare at your state until he asked her to keep Sir Livialli from the rooms, and that he would be back to collect you at the end of his contract.

“Oh thank you, Sir Witcher, thank you for helping her. She is so kind to everyone, we couldn’t stand that she was letting him do this to her.” She tearfully thanked him, saying that she would have some things packed for you when he came to collect you.

Geralt strode to his room, radiating anger as he dressed in his armour with cold precision, slinging his silver sword over his back. He went to the throne room next, requesting Sir Livialli to accompany him on his final attack on the bruxa’s nest. The king was delighted at this, offering further assistance but Geralt refused, saying that he only needed two, any more and the pack would know that they were coming.

The ride to the forest was silent, neither the knight nor the Witcher speaking to each other. The battle was vicious, Geralt sending as many bruxa at the knight as possible while still taking down the nest. There were six bruxa left, Geralt having exterminated many of them during his previous forays. Sensing the younger, male blood, four of the bruxa went after Sir Livillia while two went after Geralt.

He dispatched them quickly, keeping his back to a tree while parrying the slashes of claws and teeth. Putting his sword point down in the dirt, he leaned against the tree and observed the fight across from him.

The man was a decent swordsman, Geralt observed. He was keeping up for the most part, having killed one of the bruxa. Lifting his sword, Geralt stalked towards the group. One of the creatures saw him coming, turning and attacking. It was a short fight, Geralt slashing its arms before ending it with a thrust through its chest, turning to meet the second last bruxa attacking to avenge its fallen sister. Sir Livialli was slowing, Geralt noticed, as he was occupied with the last monster. 

He slowed his strokes, toying with his opponent as he observed the knight drop his sword after taking a slash to his arm. Geralt quickly disposed of the bruxa, stopping and watching as Sir Livialli fell to the ground, the monster having opened his back with its claws. He dragged himself through the dirt, reaching to Geralt for aid.

“Help… me…” he managed to groan, Geralt watching him with a piercing gaze. He didn’t respond for a moment, the bruxa stalking in for the kill.

Geralt stared at him with a cold face. “Why should I help you when you have hurt her?”

A look of realization came over Sir Livialli’s before the expression turned to horror as the bruxa leapt onto him, tearing his throat out with a jerk of its head. Geralt swung his sword, separating its head from its body while it was distracted with its kill. Cleaning his sword, he resheathed it and swiftly moved to mount Roach, turning her in the direction of the castle before taking off as fast as he could.

**~*~*~*~**

The castle was quiet when he returned, a somber mood in the air. Geralt quickly reported to the king that the nest was destroyed, but Sir Livialli had unfortunately lost his life in the attack. The king dismissed this, praising Geralt for his deeds and passing over his reward.

Having settled his account, he all but ran through the hallways, desperate to see you and to take you away from the hell hole that was this place. As he reached your rooms, he stopped, seeing some of your friends leaving with tears in their eyes. The maid he had spoken to earlier looked up at his approach, her face falling as she saw him. The door opened behind her, Geralt flinching as the copper scent of blood hit him. The colour drained from his face as he saw another woman hurry out of the room, a wad of bloody towels in her arms.

He entered the room, finding you lying pale and limbless on the bed, surrounded by women. Seeing him, the woman at your head gently prodded you, whispering something to you. At her words, you rolled your head towards him, a pained smile gracing your face. “Geralt.” you murmured. 

At your words, he padded forwards, scared to make too much noise. You raised a hand to him, and Geralt’s heart fell as he saw it shake in the air. Grasping it softly, he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as he sat on the bed by your side.

“You came back.” 

“I did. And I promise he will never hurt you or your daughter, ever again.” Geralt reached out, brushing a piece of your hair away from your sweaty face.

“That’s… good…” Your eyes fell closed. One of the women in the room beckoned to Geralt, drawing him to the side.

“What happened to her?” Geralt spared you a glance as you lay pale and motionless on the bed.

“He happened.” The woman spit. “He beat her to within an inch of her life, that bastard, and left her for dead. She’s lost the baby as well.”

Geralt froze. “The baby?”

She glanced at him, sadness in her eyes. “You didn’t know? You poor thing. She was four months pregnant, but she’s miscarried. We can’t stop the bleeding, I don’t know if she’ll make it.”

He looked back at you over his shoulder, you were tossing and muttering to yourself on the bed. “Go be with her.” He felt a gentle prod to his shoulder. Following the direction, he returned to the bed, gently sitting next to you and taking your hand.

You opened your eyes. “Geralt. I’m so tired.” 

“Shh.” he stroked your hair. “I’m here now.”

Tears ran down your face as you closed your eyes. “My daughter, my Corinna, you have to help her.”

“I know, I will.” He wiped your tears. “I will take care of her.”

“You always were my guardian angel, Geralt. You saved me from him. You’ll save my daughter as well.” Opening your eyes, you shakily raised a hand to his cheek. “I’m so tired.”

He felt a tear run down his face. “It’s ok. You can let go now.”

“Thank you.” You closed your eyes, head falling to the side as he heard your heart stutter, before stopping with a finality that sent a dagger through Geralt. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing and turning away from the bed. The woman from earlier stood in the doorway, a bag over her shoulder and a bundle in her arms.

“Here.” She passed Geralt the bag, he slung it over his shoulder as she passed him the bundle. Settling it in his arms, he looked down to see a small face, eyes closed, nestled in the blankets. Gently, he raised a hand to stroke a finger down the little cheek. The babe let out a soft sigh, curling closer into Geralt’s warmth.

Looking up, the woman had a soft, sad smile on her face at the two of them “I know she will be well cared for. This is what she would have wanted for her.” He nodded, not trusting his voice.

She pushed him gently, “Go Witcher.”

Readjusting his grip on the child, he looked down once more, before turning back to her. “Thank you.”

As the tears in her eyes spilled over, “Be safe. You take care of her.”

“I will.” He turned and left the room, holding his bundle close. Reaching the stables, he secured the bag to his saddle before mounting, riding out of the castle.

He travelled for weeks, stopping frequently to feed and bathe the child. It was slow going, but Geralt didn’t care. The people that he passed gawked at the sight of a Witcher with a child, but he continued on, ignoring the stares and the whispers.

He finally reached the Temple of Melitele, the priestesses welcoming him. He hid the bundle under his cloak until he secured an audience with the high priestess. She had gasped when he revealed the child, reaching out to take her from him.

“Who is this little sweet?” she cooed, holding a finger out for the babe to grab.

“This is Corinna, Y/N’s daughter. She died saving her people.” Geralt answered, ignoring the look of shock that passed over the woman’s face. “Will you care for her? The road is no place for a child.”

Looking back at the child with a look of sorrow in her face, the priestess responded, “Of course. You will visit though? Don’t leave this child with no memories of her mother.”

“I will. And I will bring coin for payment as well.”

The priestess scoffed. “No need, Geralt. You have done enough to help us over the years, it is the least we can do. But I will be expecting you to visit.”

Geralt nodded. “Thank you.” The priestess laid the babe back in his arms. Geralt looked down as Y/E/C orbs blinked up at him. “I will miss you, little one.” He raised a finger to brush the child’s face. “You be good for the priestesses, and I will be back to visit soon.”

**~*~*~*~**

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[onthepageoftears]

Kill Your Darlings Ch. 15 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

A/N: Hello again! It’s been a while, but this chapter fills one of my squares for @thewitcherbingo​ ! The last chapter technically did as well (probably more-so), but I didn’t want to tag that one because it would spoil what happened at the end (also I might have forgotten to tag that chapter whoops) Anyway, if while you’re waiting for a KYD chapter you’re thirsting for more content, you can go check my other short fics out (if you haven’t already). Okay okay, enough talk. Read on!

Your comments and feedback are always encouraged and mean a lot to me!

Bingo Square Filled: Death

Summary: One relationship blossoms after another was broken.

Warnings: mentions of blood/wounds/kidnapping/death/pain, pining, soft!!!, slight angst, language

Words: 2,443

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Blood wasn’t something you were new to. Not since the first time you scraped your knee, not since the first time you saw a dead body, and definitely not since you killed your first target. It was everywhere — and in a fight, it got everywhere. But for some reason, you couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that it was Joneta’s blood all over your hands. It was her blood that seemed to be a permanent reminder of what you did.

Geralt burst through the back door of the tavern not long after Joneta’s eyes went dark. Or, maybe it was a long time after. You couldn’t tell, and the sky wasn’t helping — darkness surrounded you for as long as you could remember. You were beginning to think the sun would never return. But even that didn’t bother you. Not while your friend — who you once considered your only friend — was dead in your arms. Not while her blood was caked onto your fingertips, not while her now dried pool of blood mixed with your own.

Geralt tried to get you up. But even he didn’t dare touch you when you sent him daggers through your eyes. Instead, he made sure no one ventured back to the tavern’s courtyard, all while keeping his eyes off of you. Smart, because if he sent you any look that resembled pity, you might’ve stabbed him as well.

The tears had stopped falling almost as soon as her blood dried. You were silent, which wasn’t new either, but it was…unsettling. Like you couldn’t speak. Like the words that died on Joneta’s tongue as she choked on her blood…they died on yours too.

So instead of crying, you watched the girl in front of you, stiff and departed, thinking maybe she would get up again. She’d blink, or gasp, or laugh at the fact that you thought you killed her. Killed her.

“You could never,” she’d say, wiping the blood from her face. “The only thing that’d kill me is…me.” And you’d laugh.

But she didn’t wake up. She didn’t move. She didn’t even bleed anymore. She was a corpse. An ‘it’. A was.

“Oh.” You snapped your eyes up, the quickest movement you’d made for a while. Jaskier was standing at the door of the tavern, his hands wringing together, probably because there was no lute between them. Geralt stood behind him, making sure the door was closed and blocked by a heavy barrel beside it. He only nodded at you and turned away, most likely to guard the other entrance.

You looked back at Joneta’s eyes, which now seemed to be judging you — testing you. But when you spoke, it was to Jaskier, “I thought I told you to keep playing.”

You almost didn’t notice him kneel beside you, “You’re hurt.” His hands shook as they reached towards your thigh, his fingertips gently ghosting over where blood had already been soaking through.

“I already tied it off.”

It wasn’t a lie. Somehow you managed enough energy to rip part of your cloak and tie it around your stab wound — the blood wasn’t fully soaking the material, which meant you hadn’t been out there too long. Otherwise, you would probably be passed out by now. Or dead.

“Not your arm. Or — oh, your stomach.” You barely flinched when he held one hand to each wound — it hurt, the sudden pressure, but somehow, it made you feel better. “We need to get you inside.”

“I can’t,” the crack in your voice made you inhale sharply, your eyes brimming with tears. “I can’t leave her.”

Jaskier’s gaze softened, his grasp on your arm tightening so you would look at him. “She’ll be here. Geralt will make sure of it.”

You didn’t want to believe him. Him, of all people. The person who made you kill your friend. The person who made you go against your uncle, the one person you could call family. But there was part of you…the part of you that you wanted to push away. That part of you believed him. Trusted him.

So you let him help you up, lean your arm over his shoulders, and guide you back inside the tavern. He whispered in your ear as you made it to the room. You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. You knew it wouldn’t. But you listened anyway.

He told you he needed to clean the wounds. So you watched as he readied the tub, listened as he told you exactly what he was doing even if you didn’t give two shits. His voice was therapeutic, numbing, comforting. He spoke to you as he led you to the tub, spoke while he was turned around as you peeled the clothes from your body. He hummed as he quickly helped scrub the blood from your hands, from your face, from your hair.

It was after you got fresh clothes and were sat in a chair that he became silent. He worked quietly as he stitched what he could of your wounds. Badly, you might have added. Maybe you would have teased him if the circumstances were different. But you instead kept your eyes on the tub full of blood infested water, biting down on your tongue to hold back grunts of pain. And then the stitches were secure, or as secure as they could’ve been, and you looked over the damage as Jaskier cleaned off his hands.

You’d had worse. Rauf once found you nearly unconscious outside his door after getting in a mere bar fight. But these wounds were from a friend, and that made them so, so much worse.

You tore your eyes away from the stitches on your arm, swallowing back the bile that crawled up your throat. Instead, you toyed with the fresh cloth that was wrapped around your thigh, where the blood had finally managed to subside. The silence in the room was deafening. It wasn't comforting out there behind the tavern, where Joneta’s eyes haunted you and her voice echoed in your head. But here, with Jaskier, you desperately wanted to hear something else. Anything else.

“How long was I out there?” Your voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.

“Too long.” Jaskier set his towel down, his own eyes not meeting yours. “I tried to get you sooner, but Geralt—“

“I wouldn’t have let you either,” you said, watching him fold your now clean clothes, probably to busy his hands. The fact that he wouldn’t look at you scared you. So you spoke again, “Where did you learn to…”

Jaskier turned, finally meeting your eyes. He noticed you gesturing to your wounds, “Geralt made me help him on our…many adventures.”

You managed a small scoff, “Didn’t teach you very well.”

Jaskier paused, a smile lifting onto his lips when he realized it was a joke. A joke. You recoiled at the smile that threatened to fall on your own face. Your friend was dead, and you were making jokes.

Jaskier sat in the chair just across from you, his knees just inches away from your own. But still, he didn’t speak. He fumbled with his hands, staring at them like they were the most interesting thing he’d seen in his entire life. But you knew he wanted to speak. To talk to you. To ask you what happened. And even though it hurt, you cleared your throat.

“I was eight years old.” You watched Jaskier’s gaze fall back on you, his fumbling hands now going still. He frowned at your words, waiting for you to continue. You cleared your throat again, “I was eight when my parents died.”

Jaskier blinked, his eyes clouding with sorrow, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You smiled sadly, laying your palms flat against your knees. “But they didn’t just die. They were killed.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You let out a deep breath before meeting the bard’s eyes again, “My father was a good man. He was. And sometimes that’s all I want to remember.” Your eyes darkened, the memories washing over you like a cold rain. “But he killed my mother. He killed her because — shit, who knows why. He was crazy. He thirsted for blood. And my mother was victim to it.”

Now, Jaskier’s eyes were dark. “Did he hurt you?”

His concern made you bite your lip. You shook your head, dropping your eyes from his face, “No. My uncle killed him before he could. He tried to stop him at first, but he was too late.”

“And you saw it?”

“Only the blood on my uncle’s hands.”

“That’s…terrible.”

You frowned. Terrible. It was. But it was your reality. Your past. The memories were always in your mind, but you never labeled them as terrible. They were just there. Another part of you. You thought of the way Rauf looked at you when he left the house, reaching out to you with his hands covered in blood. The way he grabbed your arms and carried you away from your home, from your life.

Part of you hated him for not letting you see what your father did. For once, he didn’t want to expose you to the graphic scene. But you wished you saw it. You wished you didn’t only remember the good parts of your father, the parts that made you miss him.

“Some days I wish I could’ve done it myself.” The venom in your voice surprised Jaskier, but you kept going. “Others…I miss the man I knew before. And I hate myself for it.”

“You couldn’t have known he would do that. You were a child—“

“But I wish I could go back. To before. I miss our time together. I miss seeing his face when he came home at night, even after knowing he killed—“ You stopped yourself, wiping furiously at the tears that fell from your face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, lifting your eyes to the man in front of you.

“It’s why I do what I do.”

“Kill people?”

“People who need to die. Evil people. Even the people you hold close.” Joneta’s face flashed in your mind, making you shudder. “I don’t want someone else to regret not stopping someone evil, just because they’re a friend, or family, or…whatever.”

“But you also want revenge.” Jaskier’s words stunned you. You expected his face to be disgusted, dejected. But he was staring right at you, not an ounce of aversion in his eyes. “You want revenge for what happened to you.”

Your voice was a whisper, “Yes.”

He waited a moment before speaking again. “Who was that assassin?”

You closed your eyes, “Joneta.” The name felt like it burned a hole in your tongue. “A friend.”

“And you killed her…for me?”

Your eyes met his, the tears clouding up your vision. You didn’t have to answer.

“You’re a good person.” Jaskier searched your eyes, keeping his gaze there almost like it would make you believe what he was saying. “Hell, you’re a good assassin.”

“There’s no such thing.” You sighed when he kept his eyes on you, silently urging you to continue. “Murder is murder. I’m just...another type of evil.”

“I don’t think that's true,” Jaskier’s voice was firm, confident. “Other assassins would have killed me just for the money. You…you had to make sure I was the right — or, the wrong — person. You didn’t just call it a day and slit my throat just because.” You winced. Joneta’s chokes echoed in your brain. Her shocked expression. Her dead eyes.

You turned away. “That doesn’t make me a good person.”

“It doesn’t make you evil either.” Jaskier leaned forward, placing his own hands on his knees.

“I guess you’re lucky I was picked for this job.”

“Guess I am.”

You looked at him, despite your eyes burning to fight back the tears. No matter how hard you tried to pull away, this man pulled you back. This bard. This bard who you were supposed to kill — to kill, and never look back.

You watched him and he looked back, his tongue darting out to lay upon his bottom lip as he searched your face. His eyes flicked from your own, to your lips, then back again. You felt a twist in your gut, but also a release in your chest, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. And for a moment, you were positive that his hand reached out in the short distance to touch your own, ever so lightly, just ghosting the tips of your fingers. And then he cleared his throat.

“I found something. In your pocket.” You nearly sighed again as he stood up and walked back towards your clothes. You had to fight the disappointment that settled in your chest, internally kicking yourself at the feeling. You couldn’t possibly be this selfish, wanting Jaskier’s attention. Not after what happened. Not after what you did.

Wanting Jaskier's attention. Was that all it was? Or was it something more? 

Before you could think more of it, Jaskier was in the chair again. He held out two pieces of parchment towards you. “Notes. Perhaps from...secret admirers?”

You scoffed and took the papers, ignoring the teasing smile he held. The first one was the instructions to get to the guild, which normally, you would throw a fit over Jaskier seeing. But your trust for him made you shrug it off, instead turning your attention to the second one.

Keep the girl until the rest arrive. They’ll know where to bring her.

— Hotch

You frowned, blinking as you tried to remember where you saw that name. You knew you found the note at the bandit camp where Lilla was captured, but why was the name so familiar?

Then you remembered. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

You were turning over the first piece of parchment when Geralt came in the room.

“I cleared up the body. We can bury it when you’re ready.”

The forwardness of his words surprised you. Burying Joneta. You snapped out of your daze, blinking away the tears that lingered from earlier. Standing from your chair a bit too quickly, you wobbled as the pain shot up your leg. Despite gritting your teeth, you spoke, “I’m ready.”

“What do you mean?” Jaskier grabbed your arm to steady you. His face was construed with concern. “You’re hardly ready to take another trip—“

“I’m fine,” you snapped, eyes softening when you looked back at him. You leaned forward, holding the pieces of parchment towards him. Softening your voice, you placed your own hand on his shoulder. “And I know who is after you.”

———————————————————————————————————

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[fangirlshrewt97]

The Witcher Fic - Give Me One More Chance (Part 5)

Author: Fangirlshrewt97

Fandom: The Witcher (TV Series)

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier|Dandelion, Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer of Vengerburg, Geralt of Rivia & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Jaskier|Dandelion & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier|Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Yennefer of Vengerburg, Roach

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up (Swearing, Mild Gore)

Warnings: None Apply

Additional Tags: Post Episode S01E06: Rare Species, Emotionally Constipated Geralt of Rivia, Pining, Touch-Starved Geralt of Rivia, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt & Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Canon-Typical Levels of Violence, Monsters, I really put Geralt through the wringer here, but I am ok with that because poor Jaskier did not deserve it, I do acknowledge though that Geralt is multiple levels of screwed up and maybe thought he was helping them both when he was actually hurting them

Summary: After the dragon hunt, Geralt tries to cope with his actions. And misses Jaskier a lot. But refuses to deal with his feeling even when it almost kills him.

Alternate title: 5 things Geralt misses about Jaskier + 1 he didn’t need to

Link to A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24389734

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

                                                             *****

Traveling together with Jaskier made the void Geralt had been feeling since the dragon hunt feel a little smaller but at the same time, just as deep as before. For the first few days, Jaskier barely acknowledged Geralt or Yennefer. He was also quieter than ever, though he maintained a constant stream of conversation with Ciri. He answered every question she threw at him, sometimes with outlandishly impossible answers that had her giggling. At night when they made camp, he took over cooking whatever ingredients Yennefer had bought in the previous town and whatever meat Geralt hunted.

He sang his songs, well, every song that did not have to do with Geralt in any way.

He did not touch Geralt. He did not speak to Geralt. He scarcely looked at Geralt.

Geralt wanted to shake the bard, beg him, plead for an accidental brush of their hands, a question out of habit, a peek from the corner of electric blue eyes.

But Jaskier gave him nothing. Demonstrating a mastery over his bodily reactions Geralt had not known the bard was capable of, Jaskier ignored him completely and intentionally.

Jaskier was even cordial with Yennefer, never outright cutting her with sharp words but not sparing a word that was not needed. Geralt would even venture to say they might be friends from the good-natured teasing he heard when he was out of their earshot.

Ciri saw all this, but surprisingly, or maybe totally unsurprisingly, after all how well did Geralt actually know her, the little princess took Jaskier’s side. Or perhaps not side, but she seemed to find his actions justifiable. A few times when Geralt was returning from a hunt, she heard Jaskier and Ciri rummaging about in camp. He heard her trying to convince Jaskier to give him a second chance. Jaskier stayed quiet.

///

After nearly three weeks of traveling together, of too quiet camps, non-music filled walks through possibly enemy woods, of distances so easy to close yet so insurmountable, Geralt was at his wits end. Yennefer had portaled herself and Ciri away, claiming that she had a friend who could help her with training for Cirilla and that the princess needed to remember what a bed felt like. Geralt had a suspicion based on the pointed glare both girls sent his way that they were actually conspiring to grant him some time alone with Jaskier.

Jaskier was mute as he watched the portal closed, getting back to setting up their camp in the same efficient way he had done when once upon a time it had always been just the two of them. Geralt knew he had to be the one to talk, since Jaskier was obviously not going to.

“Jaskier, we have some spices left, and I hear a deer nearby. What do you say we have a meal with some flavor for once?” Geralt asked, wincing at his own pathetic excuse for conversation.

Jaskier just hummed noncommittally. Geralt resisted the instinct to growl or run a rough hand through his hair. Was this what he had subjected Jaskier to all these years? But he did not have the talent the bard did to draw words out of others. Much less from someone who typically could not be stopped from talking. Needless to say, Geralt was frustrated and reaching the bottom of a very shallow pool of ideas.

Which is what he chose to blame for why he completely missed the sound of a monster approaching. Night had fallen, and both were sitting on opposite sides of the camp. He was brushing Roach while enjoying the absentminded strumming of Jaskier’s lute, the bard obviously composing inside his head. Geralt finished brushing and turned, only to feel his breath catch in his throat. Jaskier was glowing by the campfire, his pale yellow doublet casting golden shadows over his delicate features, the shadows making him look all the more unearthly. He was humming something under his breath, and Geralt had to strain his ears to catch it.

Had the bard always been so… lovely?

He was so enraptured in the blue of the bard’s wide open eyes that he entirely missed the alarm in those eyes. Roach’s neighing and shove with her snout was the only reason the endrega did not behead him.

“Geralt!” Jaskier screamed. Geralt did not even have time to enjoy the sound of his name passing through his bard’s lips in nearly a month before the endrega advanced, pinning him to the ground with on of it’s claws.

Geralt freed his arms enough to quickly sign Aard and throw the monster back against a tree. That dazed the creature long enough for Geralt to dive for his silver sword. Now armed, Geralt threw himself at the monster, swinging his sword and managing to cut of one of it’s claws. The endrega retaliated by smashing into him with its mace-like tail. Geralt’s unprotected skin tore easily under the spikes in the monster’s tail. A pained groan escaped him, but his training ensured he did not drop his sword.

The monster clawed at him again, executing a sharp cut into his right shoulder.

“Hey ugly! Try this on for size!” Jaskier shouted, voice dripping with fear yet underlined with the same steel as Geralt’s sword. When Geralt rolled his eyes in his direction, he saw Jaskier holding said sword, arms shaking with the weight but keeping the sword steady. Geralt vaguely recalled Jaskier saying he was nobility, he would have been taught the sword. Or at least fencing. His stance looked firm even if the sword didn't.

The creature snarled before dropping Geralt against the tree and advancing towards Jaskier. Just as Geralt feared that he was going to watch his bard get eviscerated, Jaskier threw something into the fire between him and the creature, making the fire roar up before transforming into a thick green cloud.

Geralt coughed as the smoke enveloped him thoroughly, grimacing as he pressed his abdominal wound closed. On the other side of the fire he could hear the creature screaming and screeching before steel sang through the cacophony and the noise cut off abruptly.

He was still coughing when a pain of hands grabbed him from below his shoulders. He yelled but the body behind him did not stop until they were clear of the camp and the smoke. Geralt was breathing hard and pale as the moon that shone through the trees when Jaskier deposited him against a tree.

Through the haze he saw a cut on the bard’s upper arm, but Jaskier brushed away his arm and cut open Geralt’s shirt with the small knife he always kept on him. He swore when he saw the extent of the bruising. Pressing firmly, he guessed at least two broken ribs, possibly three based on the volume of Geralt's groans.

“Damn it Geralt. Wait here. I will be right back, I need to find your potions.” Jaskier complained as he rose, only to yelp when Geralt yanked him back towards him, nearly sending the both toppling into the forest floor.

“Ow you bastard, I am only trying to help!”

“You… are…hurt…” Geralt rasped.

“Yes and you pulling me by the arm that was injured is not going to exactly make it better now is it?”

“Monster…”

“Is dead. Or at least it better be, the thing was in two pieces last I saw it. Plus we left poor Roach and my precious lute at the camp. Let me go check on them!” Jaskier said.

Geralt groaned but relented. Jaskier stumbled as he was suddenly released but stood up and tugged his doublet into place. “Thank you. I will be right back. Just… try not to get killed will you?”

Saying so, Jaskier disappeared between the tree lines. Geralt groaned again as he closed his eyes and lets his head thump back against the tree. Tonight had not gone at all as he had wanted.

True to his word though, Jaskier came back to where Geralt was, loud enough to wake the forest.

Cursing as he nearly tripped over a root he didn’t see, Jaskier dropped beside Geralt.

“Ok I have all your potions here. What do you want?” Jaskier asked, holding up Geralt’s potion bag. Geralt winced as he shifted against the tree, pretending to do so to get more comfortable and not because this way, Jaskier was leaning more heavily onto him.

“Dark green one. And clear potion in the square vial.” Geralt grit out.

Jaskier rooted around the bag before crowing victoriously as he held out his prize, quickly uncorking the two potions and helping Geralt swallow them. Geralt hissed as he felt the potions rushing through his veins, but settled as his healing was further boosted by the potions.

“Use my tunic.” Geralt slurred. Jaskier looked up confused from where had settled into Geralt’s side.

“What?”

“You are bleeding. Use my tunic. It is ripped.”

“Oh.” Jaskier said. He looks at his own injury, the wound a graze that has almost stopped bleeding. Deciding not to argue with the Witcher for once, he did as told and ripped up the shirt, wrapping the make-shift bandages around his upper arm. with the left over cloth, he wrapped them around Geralt so as to make sure the open wounds did not get infected.

They stayed like that for another moment until Geralt grunted and tried to shift.

“Come on, let’s get back to camp.”

“Are you sure? Can you walk?”

“Jaskier. It is cold and I don't have a shirt. We will both freeze overnight.” Geralt growled.

“Fine, fine off we go to the camp with the dead monster, why not?” Jaskier said as he placed an arm around Geralt’s waist and let the Witcher lean his weight on him as the two made their way back to camp.

Jaskier had Geralt sit back against the tree that Roach was still tied to while he went and reignited the fire that had almost been put out during the fight.

Geralt tried to push away Roach when the horse started to nibble on his hair, patting her nose to comfort her.

The endrega was lying several feet ahead of him, cleaved clumsily in half, his steel sword embedded haphazardly in it's abdomen. Jaskier was quiet as he set about cleaning the campsite, giving the monster’s corpse a wide berth.

“Should we be worried of more of those things coming after us?”

Geralt grunted. “Endregas are solitary creatures.”

“Oh small comfort I guess. Anything else going to attack us while we sleep?”

“No.”

“You sound confident.”

“If something comes for us, I will stop it.”

“Geralt I know I say…used to say you could defeat monsters in your sleep, but I didn’t actually mean it.”

“I am not going to sleep. You sleep.” Geralt bit back, trying to cover the hurt from Jaskier’s correction.

Geralt could make out a vein in Jaskier’s forehead, which was new, and he knew the timing was awful, but he found it equally amusing and adorable.

Jaskier took a deep breath and exhaled it before sitting in front of Geralt. Geralt felt oddly cornered with no escape. Which actually wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“What was your plan?”

“Plan?”

“Plan for whatever you wanted to do without the girls around. And don’t insult my intelligence by saying us being left alone was not planned.” Jaskier said.

Geralt swallowed. The bard perpetually surprised him with his perceptiveness. He sighed.

“I told Yennefer to take Ciri it would be nice to have a couple nights for just us so we could have a chance to talk. So I could apologize.”

Jaskier groaned before mumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘stupid Witchers with skulls thicker than the mountains they get thrown against’.

Jaskier sat up from his slump and sat closer to Geralt, making his heart beat tick up. So close, Geralt felt like he would burn from the intensity of the gaze that seemed to pierce right to his soul.

“Before you start apologizing, I want to say that you're an idiot.”

“Hmm.”

“And I kind of hate you right now.”

Geralt flinched internally but kept his face blank. “I understand.”

“No you don’t you self-loathing bastard. I regret the 22 years that I spent with you.”

Geralt bit the inside of his cheek. Was this how Jaskier had felt when Geralt had screamed at him on that mountain that accursed day? Like his heart was being ripped to shreds, and his world was becoming darker with each passing breath? How had the bard ever found it in him not to chase Geralt out of his life in that village? But Geralt heard the slight change in Jaskier’s heartbeat and held on to it like a life line.

“That's not tru-”

Jaskier cut him off. “Okay, that's a lie. But you've really hurt me, Geralt.”

Geralt had a feeling that the expression on Jaskier’s face was yet another that would haunt him in his nightmares, in addition to his face on the dragon mountain and that stupid doppler that stole Jaskier’s visage.

Geralt weighed his words carefully before speaking. He was walking on a tightrope and he had this sharp feeling in his gut that if he messed up this conversation, he would never get his bard back. “I... I know. I'm sorry. You... You didn't deserve any of it.”

“Keep going.”

“You've always been good to me... You're the reason people don't hate me anymore... You were by my side when nobody else was.” Geralt verbalized slowly.

“Glad you finally noticed that, but it doesn't really sound like an apology.”

Geralt clenched his fist. Jaskier was making this unnecessarily difficult. But this was a problem that could only be solved with words not steel or silver or grunts and looming appearances.

Closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see Jaskier’s face, Geralt inhaled deeply and laid his heart out for him.

“I'm sorry I didn't appreciate it. I was a fool. Now I get it. You were always kind, thoughtful, loyal. All you wanted in return was to go on adventures and find inspiration for your songs. I should have respected that. But all I did was treat you as a nuisance and a bother. When you might be the only true friend I have had who chose to be my friend out of his own free will and not because you had a duty to put up with me or were tied to my by something.” Geralt finished, gasping. His hands were so tightly clenched he could feel his nails making crescent indentations into the rough skin of his palm.

Jaskier stayed quiet in front of him. When he pried his eyes open, and hesitantly looked up, the bard was sitting in front of him with a stunned expression and a gaping mouth.

“Jaskier?”

No response.

Geralt tentatively released one hand and barely brushed it on Jaskier’s hand before the bard seemed to crash back into reality.

Geralt and Jaskier froze, hardly daring to breathe. The millimeter of skin Geralt had pressed against the bard felt as though it was on fire.

Jaskier finally gasped out a soft “Oh, you idiot.”

Geralt hardly got the words “What did I say-” before the bard was crashing into him. Geralt tensed up for a minute before feeling all his stress melt away in the bard’s arms. He wrapped both arms around Jaskier and pressed the bard in close, burying his nose into soft brown hair that smelled of sweat and faintly, lavender. In his current position, Jaskier was practically straddling Geralt, his body a line of heat that warmed Geralt to his core.

Jaskier sobbed into his ear “You idiot. Geralt... I... Yes, I wanted those things, but it wasn't what mattered. I... All I ever wanted was you.”

Geralt felt a lump in throat, his heart matching the wild thumping of Jaskier’s own. Today had started off as a nightmare where he had been sure he was going to loose the bard, and now Jaskier was telling him, what? That he…cared for Geralt?

Geralt whispered, scared that if he said the words any louder this moment would break, or worse he would find out it had all been an illusion “All these years... Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought that this was... I thought that once you satisfied yourself, got all the songs and stories you needed out of me, I mean-” Geralt grunted tightening his arms around Jaskier’s waist as he mulled on what to say. “I thought you will get bored with me eventually. I didn't think that you'd… that you might have feelings for me. Beyond friendship. Or companionship. And it is fine if that is all you feel for me Jaskier. I just want to travel with you again. I… I have missed you far too much.” He confessed, his secret out now, no longer weighing him or eating at him.

Jaskier stayed quiet once again, and Geralt feared he had once again said the wrong thing. He loosened his arms even as every muscle in his body was screaming at him to hold on and never let go. Jaskier smelled of confusion, and underlying it was his personal scent of honey and sunshine.

Geralt was so focused on his own thoughts he nearly missed Jaskier’s faint voice

“Feelings? For... How long?”

Geralt tried to suppress the hope blooming in his chest at Jaskier’s own hopeful words, no disgust or rejection in them.

Shrugging, Geralt said “Give or take five to six years.”

Jaskier jaw opened and closed a few times as he lip synched Geralt’s admission before unexpectedly punching him in the arm with the injury.

Geralt groaned. “What was that for?

“Shit sorry. But seriously? Five to six YEARS? You unbelievable idiot, Geralt why the hell would you not tell me?”

Geralt shrugged again, barely not wincing as the movement jostled his injured shoulder.

“You- oh, oh you just-” Jaskier sputtered, slapping his own forehead before pinching his nose. “Ok listen to me you thick-skulled buffoon. I am in love with you. 1000% gone on you. Pining after you so bad the whole continent could see it.”

Now it was Geralt’s turn to gape. He let out a strangled “What?”

Jaskier’s shoulders slumped. “Geralt, we are not made for monogamy. I know that. We have had far too many paramours to pretend otherwise. But do you know why Yennefer was always the one that got under my skin?” At Geralt’s silence, Jaskier continued “She was the one who had a chance. God Geralt, look at her. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life, she is terrifying and powerful, and knows what she wants. She is as immortal as you.” Jaskier’s voice was frail for his next declaration. “How could a mere bard stand up to all that?

Jaskier’s head dropped, and he wrung his hands until Geralt covered them with one of his, the other cupping Jaskier’s jaw and setting his every nerve on fire.

“How long?”

Jaskier whispered “From the moment I met you.” Geralt spied a few tears gathering in Jaskier’s eyes. “Gods. I can't believe it. So much wasted time…”

“Guess we're both idiot.” Geralt offered before pulling Jaskier in closer until they could feel the other’s breath on each other’s faces. “Can I kiss you?”

Jaskier’s breath hitched before he nodded. Unable to wait another second, Geralt closed the gap between them.

It was a simple kiss, just a press of rough lips against dry ones, but both men felt a joy foreign to them flood them and threaten to drown them. They broke to merely gulp a breath before diving into a second kiss that was far more passionate.

As both men fell back against the tree, uncaring of the rough bark, Roach snorted something that had they been paying attention could almost have been interpreted as “Fucking finally.”

#the witcher #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #geraskier fic #i'm done with the fic #i'll be updating daily #let me know what you think! #part 5