#witchernonsense

[inber]

Regency era AU, in which Geralt is the rich nobility, expected to marry advantageously. His younger brothers, Eskel and Lambert, are already wed. His father, Vesemir, is forever inviting families with agreeable young women to stay at their estate, in the hopes that his eldest son will actually settle down.

Geralt is polite and courteous, but he never so much as asks any of the potential matches to accompany him on a chaperoned stroll in the gardens. He spends much of his time with the dogs, or in the stables.

Yennefer is from a good family, but they are struggling financially. She finds Geralt attractive, and she knows that as a woman, it's her duty to marry well - much as she hates the restrictive idea of it. She pursues him, ignoring his passiveness.

She's the one who finds out about Geralt's taboo romance with the stable-hand, Jaskier.

Such a relationship is not only frowned upon, it'd also be an absolute scandal for Geralt's family if it became public knowledge. At first she struggles with the information, until Geralt pays her a visit and begs for her mercy. And then she sees how they truly do love one another, this lord and his servant.

So she agrees to help. She will marry Geralt, so that he might get to live with Jaskier more secretively. Because love is love, she thinks. And Geralt swears neither she nor her family shall want for any material thing, ever again. He will care for her.

The more time she spends with both men, leading up to the wedding, the more fond they grow of each other. At first Jaskier is like an alleycat, all jealous spitting, but he soon realises Yennefer is giving them such a gift. And he softens, becoming fond of her clever manner, and her fashionable dresses. He adorns her horse's mane with flowers regularly.

And Geralt loves her way with the dogs, how she's not afraid to wrestle and get dirty, laughing the whole time. He admires her quick wit and he's intrigued by her flashing temper when she sees injustice. She's a tempest of a woman.

When Jaskier catches them kissing, tangled in the hedges, he's not angry. He's not upset. There's a question in his wide blue eyes for Geralt - this woman. She was sent to us. We will love her, won't we?

And it's as easy as breathing for Yennefer to kiss Jaskier, too, the warmth of her strong fiancé behind her.

Geralt and Yennefer’s wedding is joyful, and the night even more so. At their manor, they dismiss the servants to their quarters early, ensuring they have wine and fine food to occupy them. In their master bedroom, Jaskier joins them, making use of a specially crafted passageway.

There is a bit of concern when Yennefer falls pregnant, because Geralt and Jaskier have strikingly different features, and if the babe is born with chestnut hair and doe-eyes, there might be questions. But Cirilla is born with Geralt's pale features, and she is utterly adored by the household.

Unfortunately, secrets are hard to keep when one has status. Word reaches Vesemir of his eldest son's trysts, and he drops everything to pay Geralt and his wife a visit.

He drags Jaskier into Geralt's office by the collar of his shirt and throws him down onto the rug. Geralt and Yennefer are furious. Jaskier is sobbing. The argument becomes so heated that Vesemir tells Geralt that he either gets rid of his secret lover, or he'll be disowned. Geralt shakes with rage and is about to accept, when Jaskier interjects.

Geralt must think of Yennefer and her family, he pleads. He must think of baby Ciri. If it will save them, Jaskier will leave.

Geralt is devastated. Yennefer is heartbroken. Vesemir stands in the rubble of the love he has destroyed, seeing Jaskier's sacrifice, and it tugs at his heart - although he holds Geralt back as Jaskier departs. He must protect their family name. He must protect his other sons from disgrace.

But it doesn't feel right at all.

The manor falls dark in Jaskier's absence. Geralt spends long periods out riding, or simply staring vacantly out the window. Yennefer throws herself into Ciri's care. At night, the bed feels too big for both of them.

Geralt doesn’t know where Jaskier went. He tries to make enquiries as subtly as possible, but to no avail. Jaskier is protecting him by staying away. He knows it. Yennefer knows it.

When Vesemir calls to visit his granddaughter, Geralt refuses to see him. Yennefer is guarded and brusque in the way she entertains her father-in-law. It's almost been a year; Vesemir was sure they'd have moved on. But he feels the anguish bleeding from the very walls of the house.

The weight of the family's reputation versus his son's happiness wobbles back and forth in his mind. Geralt would have chosen to be cut off from titles and money, had Jaskier not decided to leave. But even though Jaskier spared Geralt the disowning, Vesemir lost his son anyway.

This isn't right.

#the witcher au #geralt x jaskier x yennefer #headcanon #I'll add to this I swear #romance and angst #witchernonsense

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Definitely cursed thought: reader sober, Jaskier drunk/passed out. Reader shaves a heart into Jaskier's chest hair. Or shaves an arrow pointing to his junk Or she means to shave 'BARD' but she fucks up and it looks like barf or bark or bord or brrf

Modern!AU: accidentally shaves BRAD and because he can’t button a shirt to save his soul everyone who meets him until it grows back just assumes it’s a A Statement and that his name is Brad. 

Geralt still calls him Brad when he’s being a little shit

Jaskier still answers to it which only pisses him off more

#sweet readers #witchernonsense

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

Inspired by "Devil Like Me" by @witchernonsense

#moodboard #fanficiton #witchernonsense #tutu makes stuff #witcher moodboard

[goldandlights]

I just found your tumblr and your lovely words and the fact that you're a thirsty angst slut like me and I'm wildly enamoured ❤

*blush, blush* Thank you! :D Let’s be thirsty angst sluts together!!

#ask #witchernonsense

[the-winter-witcher]

Your tumblr problem is rude and I'm angry on your behalf. I never saw your reblog of my fic so I'm thanking you here ❤❤❤ also I'm doing the pëëk at your writing too and boyyy howdyyy I need me a stiff... drink. Yes, sure, drink

Thank you! ❤️

Tumblr is really annoying me rn like I'm not invisible I do exist and I want to talk to you all and interact with you all but I have offended the mighty blue beast somehow so here we are 🤷🏻‍♀️

I absolutely love your writing so much it's wonderful, really well written and it does things to me like oh boy 🥵 let's both have drinks together while we read each others stuff (tysm for the compliment my lovely, it means the absolute world to me ❤️)

#answered #witchernonsense

[princess-of-riviaa]

in case y’all are craving some good af fics, i’m listing my current favs below. warning: most, if not all these fics, may cause intense feelings of love/arousal/angst towards the talented writers the men in the fics.

heaven in your mouth || by @ladyreapermc - Henry Cavill smut

salt and iron || by @littlefreya - Captain Syverson smut

aftercare with august || by @honeychicanawrites - August Walker fluff

tik tok trend? || by @hnryycvll - Henry Cavill smut

Geralt talking Jaskier off || by @valdomarx - Geralt x Jaskier smut

be still for daddy || by @brexrif - Geralt smut

Henry in heat || by @honeychicanawrites - Henry Cavill smut

talented tongue || by @ladyreapermc - Henry Cavill smut

mob! Seb || by @sinner-as-saint - Sebastian Stan smut

first time with August || by @thiccgeralt - August Walker smut

smart mouth || by @witchernonsense - Jaskier x witchers (yes, that’s right, MULTIPLE witchers)

wild Geralt || by @the-winter-witcher - Geralt smut

monologue I, monologue II || by @thiccgeralt - August Walker angst

NSFW Jaskier prompt || by @witcherwritings - Jaskier smut

first time with Jaskier || by @ficsandcatsandficsandcats - Jaskier smut/fluff

Geralt can’t be quiet || by @witchertrashbag - Geralt x Jaskier smut

mirror, mirror on the wall || by @yoursecretsmutblog - Napoleon Solo smut

some more mob! Seb || by @sinner-as-saint - Sebastian Stan smut

overstimulation || by @nsfwsebbie - Stucky x reader smut

trapped || by @dancingwendigo - DARK August Walker smut

marshall, syverson, walker (ALL IN ONE POST AHHH) || by @thiccgeralt - August Walker/Captain Syverson/Walter Marshall smutty headcanons

somnophilia || by @et-lesailes - Chris Evans smut

professor! Bucky || by @nsfwsebbie - Bucky Barnes smut

being fingered by Henry || by @thotgomery - Henry Cavill smut

baby boy || by @asadmarveltrashbag - Steve Rogers smut

cheering you up || by @hnryycvll - Henry Cavill fluff

#henry cavill smut #henry cavill #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #august walker #august walker smut #captain syverson #captain syverson smut #walter marshall #walter marshall smut #stucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #napoleon solo #napoleon solo smut #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt smut #jaskier #jaskier smut #geralt x jaskier

[itsemmyb]

20-04-2020

quarantine has given me a lot of time to read fanfics so i decided to put together a list of some of my faves just to show some appreciation to the writers for providing us with entertainment in this trying time.

please note: * indicates smut

the witcher

geralt

in the garden of you bed, i bloom by @owillofthewisps * - soft, pure, little spoon geralt! it's so fluffy even the smut is adorable.

the black blade by @whitewolfandthefox - badass assassin falling for their target over time as they observe them? yes please!

paths by @witchernonsense - modern day geralt! there's so much love and care coming from geralt in this fic. i'm soft!

betrayed by @yewfandoms - i'm a slut for angst and this is the angstiest angst.

úlfur minn by @scarlettwitcher * - mutual pining! badass couples fighting together! geralt being an idiot! (angsty alternate ending)

kindness by @vivodinson * - we find out where geralt learned his amazing skills in bed from and it's the sweetest and fluffiest! hozier pairs wonderfully with this one.

beautiful and damned by @dreamwritesimagines - these two emotionally constipated assholes make me feel like knocking their heads together sometimes but god i can't get enough of them.

jaskier

secrets are no fun by @thewitcheress2389 - fluff! angst! overprotective dad!jaskier! bless.

untitled drabble by @ficsandcatsandficsandcats - jaskier getting the pampering and love that he so deserves, adorable!

geraskier

untitled drabble by @a-kind-of-merry-war - father's day fluff! we love our little dysfunctional family.

a silent love by @whitewolfandthefox - (this one is technically geraskefer) the angst, my eyes welled up reading this, pure heartache bandaged by fluff at the end.

marvel

steve rogers

no promises by @manawhaat (steve rogers x maria hill) - i never considered this ship before now but mana has given us idiots in love, pining and has shown us the way.

crown of thorns by @moonstruckbucky - in the beginning stages but i'm lovin it so far!

natasha romanoff

who's in control by @darling-little-doe * - ohhhhh the filth! dom!natasha, i need a cold shower!

tony stark

tony the idiot by @iwillbeinmynest - tony being a cute little shit, marriage proposals, i'm lov.

peter parker

far from you trilogy by @hey-marlie * - we got fluff, we got angst, we got smut, we got mutual pining, we got idiots in love. what more could you want?

stranger things

billy hargrove

head over heels by @withoutaplease * - fluff, angst, and eventual smut with our favourite asshole all written wonderfully!

steve harrington

never have i ever by @blueberrylemontea-fanfic * - steve learns how to give oral and surprise surprise, he's a gotdamn natural.

jim hopper

a way to a man's heart by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord - you know we got them daddy issues and hopper is a thicc king who deserves all the love!

misc

ransom drysdale

the assistant by @trillian-anders * - listen, ransom drysdale is a dick wad, a straight up stink boi, absolute garbage man BUT this series almost made me change my opinion of him.

4 months by @princess-of-riviaa * - garbage boi's back at it again, makin us horny and being a piece of shit.

henry cavill

comfort me by @hlkwrites * - oof, i wish i had a henry to do this with after a long day of work.

nicked by @viking-raider - henry being an adorable little shit and stealing the reader's clothing when he leaves to shoot, cutest crap ever!

there's something on your shirt by @neganslucille1994 - short and sweet. domestic henry! kal being a cutie pie! all the fluff!

#fic recs #emmy's reading list #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #jaskier x reader #geraskier #steve rogers x reader #steve x maria #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark #peter parker x reader #peter parker #jim hopper #hopper x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #mcu #the witcher #stranger things #knives out #marvel #smut #fluff #angst #reader insert

[fangirleaconmigo]

Sex Worker Jaskier/Client Eskel.

Eskel lays eyes on Dandelion and is in utter disbelief that this vision could possibly be for him. But after some (consensual) axii he is hopelessly wrapped around the beauty’s finger.

Meanwhile Dandelion is harboring his own secret crush, because a certain Witcher rescued his niece from the bowels of a basilisk as a child. Will Eskel remember him? (Read the fic below)

Ok I’m in love with Eskel/Jaskier now and had to write a fic. I blame the following deities of Witchersexual Jask:

@witchernonsense @witchertrashbag @dinahdarling @valdomarx

They fully and totally converted me with their wiles and amazing writing.

I was inspired to attempt my own humble offering. It turned out 11k words so I’ll link to AO3 as well.

Eskel Meets Dandelion

The man swept into the room. And he really did sweep, graceful as you please.

“This is Dandelion,” said Madam Novak.

Looking at Dandelion was like stepping into a fresh bright morning after a long night in a stuffy pub. Eskel needed a moment to adjust to his beauty. To comprehend it.

Dandelion was a tantalizing blend of masculine and feminine.

His doe eyes and thick black lashes were framed by strong eyebrows. His plush pink lips were set against a hewn jaw with a hint of stubble. His smooth pale neck sloped down into strong shoulders.

Everyone else Eskel had seen that day...hell...everyone he’d ever seen, suddenly felt common. So. Expected.

Dandelion was primly holding a creamy pink robe closed around himself. As he swept his eyes up and down Eskel, he released it. Silk slid away from a defined chest and an expanse of soft black hair. Rosy satin panties strained to contain a substantial bulge. Luxe black fishnet stockings skimmed up his firm legs and were held in place by a black garter belt.

Eskel’s throat went dry. It was impossible that this vision was for him. He looked doubtfully at the madam.

“Ma’am. There has been some mistake.” Eskel said. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Dandelion's expression shape into hurt. But when Eskel looked directly at him again, the handsome man wore a reassuring smile. Maybe Eskel had imagined it.

“What do you mean?” the madam asked.

“I requested the one who was willing to service witchers.” Well. That wasn’t true, and they all knew it. But Eskel couldn’t bring himself to say the truth. He was looking for the one willing to service him specifically.

The whores (and anyone else) willing to service his attractive brother Geralt were far more numerous. If they could get past their fear of mutants, almost everyone found Geralt’s fine bone structure and golden skin appealing. But where Geralt was handsome, Eskel was disfigured. Where Geralt was carved out, Eskel was hulking and thick. Where Geralt’s bass voice purred like a cat, Eskel’s was menacing. It had been likened to a pack of angry dogs by more than one person.

Eskel wasn’t bitter about it. No one loved Geralt more than him. Eskel was proud of his brother. But there was no use in denying facts. Eskel could go years without finding someone willing to touch him tenderly.

So when the madam had found someone willing, Eskel wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Someone...tough looking? Someone so desperate for money, they would be willing to jack even him off? Actually, now that he was trying to form it into a coherent thought, he had no idea what he had been expecting. But it certainly wasn’t this bewitching man in delicate finery.

“Yes,” said the madam. “This is him. And I assure you, Dandelion is our best. In the city, and maybe in the continent. He speaks five languages, he sings like a lark, and his bedroom skills are legendary.”

Eskel didn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on the fates. But they hadn’t exactly coddled him. And there was no way the fates were going to allow him to put his hands on this beautiful creature. But the longer Eskel was silent, the more it was clear that the madam was misreading his hesitance.

“Do you not approve? Do you want a girl? You said you were open to either, but if you’ve changed your mind I can see if any girls are willing...”

As the madam spoke, Dandelion regarded Eskel with placid respect. But Eskel noticed his fingers twisting in his robe. Dandelion was nervous. He was probably having second thoughts. But when the madam offered to send the man from the room, the lizard part of Eskel’s brain was already screaming YOU JUST GAVE HIM TO ME YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM AWAY. And Dandelion had nothing to worry about. All Eskel had bought was a hand job. And he would be so gentle. He would treat him like a dove. So he blurted out quietly...

“Of course. Of course. I approve. He’s. Lovely.”

Dandelion’s face lit up and he practically skipped up to Eskel and grasped one of his rugged hands in both of his. Eskel flinched, shocked by the first warm touch in ages and from this man no less. This man who outshone the bright flower for which he was named. Dandelion’s face faltered. Eskel knew he was being misread again, so he hastened to add, “It’s my pleasure of course, Dandelion.”

Closer up, Eskel could see how the dark grey brushed on Dandelion’s eyelids made his eyes practically shine from within. How the pink sprinkled on his cheeks made his sculpted cheekbones shimmer.

“Excellent.” Dandelion stretched up to kiss Eskel on the cheek, right on the mass of scarring. Eskel’s first instinct was to flinch away again, but he remembered Dandelion’s face falling and guilt twinged in his gut. So he relaxed and melted into the sweet kiss. When Dandelion pulled away, Eskel fought the impulse to reach up and touch where his lips had been.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Dandelion purred. He spun around and pulled Eskel down the hall. Silk, tulle and the scent of honeysuckle wine fluttered in the man’s wake. Eskel wanted to gorge himself on that scent. Get high from it. But he remembered that comparatively, he was lumbering and stinking. That there was dirt caked on the toes of his boots. His high crashed before it could properly take off. He assuaged himself by watching Dandelion’s narrow hips sway underneath his filmy robe.

Dandelion tugged him into a room. Eskel ducked just in time to clear the doorway. He heard the door latch behind him. He was really alone in this room with Dandelion.

It was a colorful and welcoming room. A four poster bed sat in the center. It was draped with purple, green, and wine colored blankets. There was a quilted stool at the foot of the bed. The light in the room was soft. Flickering candles intertwined with the rays of the setting sun. Dandelion’s scent of honeysuckle wine mingled with the spiced candles and the rose petals strewn on the rugs.

Dandelion stood in front of him excited. He was almost bouncing up and down, which was impressive in the spiked heels that Eskel had entirely failed to notice before. There was just so much about this man to take in.

“They told me when you left from the city, so I had time to prepare. I hope you like it,” he said.

Eskel choked.

“This is...for me?” He asked, incredulity obvious in his voice. He was still speaking softly, so as not to frighten Dandelion. But he’d never been good at hiding his true emotions. Even when he tried. There was just nothing smooth about him.

Dandelion laughed, and his laughter sounded like tinkling chimes.

“Do you see any other handsome witchers around?” he asked.

“What? How is your vision?” asked Eskel. Perhaps the pretty and fragrant Dandelion was mercifully severely shortsighted. Dandelion only laughed again.

“And funny, too! Delightful.” he said. “Sit down, dear.’ he cooed. Eskel was beginning to feel disoriented so he sat obediently on foot of the bed, with Dandelion’s sure hands guiding him.

Dandelion sat in between Eskel’s spread thighs on the quilted stool. He rested his hands on each of the witcher’s knees and looked up intently into his face. Eskel shifted nervously.

“Eskel, right?” he asked, gaze idly caressing him.

Godsdamnit this man was beautiful.

Eskel had lived long enough to come to terms with how he looked. Even though the angry red tracks of the scars had never faded. Even though they were so severe, one side of his upper lip was permanently, slightly, lifted. It was ok. He was at ease in Kaer Morhen, with his brothers. With monsters. He had been exceedingly comfortable with that succubus that one time. But looking at Dandelion’s lovely face, the inescapable fact of himself as an other returned like a bad memory.

“Yes.” Eskel whispered now.

“School of the wolf,” said Dandelion, trailing his finger over the witcher’s medallion.

The corner of Eskel’s mouth curled up at the mention of his school. He tried not to smile fully. He didn’t want his scar to pull at his face too much. It was silly. It was like how chubby old men sucked in their gut at the first sight of a maiden. You are who you are. It wasn’t like changing his smile or voice by tiny degrees would turn him from a scarred mutant to a dashing knight. But for some reason, he couldn’t help himself.

Eskel nodded. He was so affected by the steady gaze of Dandelion that he no longer trusted his voice to come out right. He dropped his gaze down but it didn’t help. Now he had an eyeful of Dandelion’s smooth thighs and the straps and buckles of the stockings and garters snugly embracing them. Eskel wanted to unhook the delicate clasps and roll the stockings down. He wanted to lick the milky thighs until he had his fill. He reminded himself that he hadn’t paid for that.

���Well. You are a gorgeous thing,” said Dandelion warmly, and squeezed his knees.

Eskel snorted. Dandelion arched an eyebrow.

“You are, darling,” he insisted. “Your eyes glimmer like honeyed amber. I’m caught in them already. Like a helpless little bumblebee.”

Dandelion reached up and lightly ran his fingers through Eskel’s hair. He ghosted his fingers over his cheeks, scars and all.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Eskel. He shifted again uncomfortably. And it wasn’t just because his cock twitched when Dandelion’s fingers touched his hair.

“Do what?” asked Dandelion.

"I don’t require pretty lies,” said Eskel shyly. Your company is more than enough, love. Look at yourself.”

Dandelion’s forehead scrunched. He looked pained. Then unreadable. He sat back and went silent for a moment.

Eskel had said he didn’t want compliments. That was literally what had just come out of his mouth. But now that Dandelion had actually fallen silent, Eskel felt a stab of lack. Of need. How had this man, inside of moments, created this need in him? Dandelion wasn’t magical. Eskel’s medallion would have vibrated. But still.

Dandelion looked thoughtfully into the middle distance. He slid his fingers, which were encircled by signet rings, through his robes. Eskel watched him and waited. He braced himself for the professional distance he had just requested, but now dreaded.

“I have an idea,” said Dandelion. “Because I need us to be clear. Performing is certainly a part of my job, and I am proud of that. I’m good at it. But I need you to understand what I really think when I look at you.”

Eskel balked. “I’d rather not.” He knew what Dandelion must see. But he certainly didn’t want to hear him say it.

Dandelion grasped both of Eskel’s hands. This time Eskel didn’t blanche. Instead, he committed himself to memorizing how this felt. Dandelion’s hands were sure and smooth. There were little calluses on his fingertips.

“Please trust me. Do you think you can trust me?” Eskel focused again on Dandelion’s eyes. They were entirely earnest.

“I suppose I can,” Eskel said. And oddly enough, he thought that he could.

“Use axii on me,” said Dandelion.

Eskel wasn’t sure why he stood up just then, nor what he would do now that he was standing. But he knew he’d never use axii on Dandelion. Never.

“No. No. Absolutely not. I may be a monster but I do not take advantage.” Eskel heard his voice come out at full strength. But blessedly, he didn’t smell fear spike on Dandelion. But Eskel headed for the door anyway. He knew some people fetishized the brutality of witchers. It certainly accounted for a good half of Geralt’s conquests. But he couldn’t bear the thought of earnest, tender Dandelion thinking of him like that. He’d finish on his own hand tonight.

He’d only gotten halfway to the door when Dandelion was suddenly directly in front of him. Eskel gripped Dandelion’s waist with both hands to keep himself from tripping. Dandelion’s firm muscular waist was a contrast to the slippery fabric. Eskel hadn’t expected to have him in his hands. He fought opposing urges. One to drop his hands free. The other to draw the man in tight and capture a kiss from the soft lips that had called him gorgeous. But then Dandelion surged up to claim him with a kiss so sensual, Eskel’s entire body vibrated.

“I am willing,” said Dandelion when he had released Eskel. “I know you have increased abilities to scent,” he said. “Could I have faked that?”

“No,” allowed Eskel. He had definitely noticed Dandelion’s arousal surge along with his own. And now he realized his fingers were stroking Dandelion’s back, sliding along the fabric and running over the dips and rises of him. “But sweet Dandelion, the answer is still no.” He looked determinedly past Dandelion’s shoulder at the door.

“Eskel. Dearheart.” Dandelion squeezed the witcher’s chin and pulled his gaze back. “I don’t mean for sex. I just mean to talk. Just so you know I’m being honest.”

Eskel was gobsmacked. He didn’t even know what to say. While he stood agape, Dandelion pushed him gently backwards, pressing his body up against him walking him little by little back to the bed. Eskel shuffled backwards until the backs of his legs hit the mattress and he was sitting again. Dandelion lowered himself again onto the stool between his legs. Eskel scratched his face. His scar always itched when he was nervous.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Axii. Then ask me anything. Then, take off axii. And then with my full consciousness I will provide you with the best night of your life. Voila!”

“Angel.” Eskel said. Dandelion beamed at the nickname. “You don’t understand. With axii, I could do literally anything to you that I desired. Not only could I ravage you but I could make you forget it. I could plant suggestions in your head and use them against you later as I wished.”

“Would you?” asked Dandelion. “Do any of those things?”

Eskel spluttered. “Of course not!”

“Well then?” asked Dandelion.

Eskel had honestly never considered axii as a way to extract truth from someone. He was glad no one could read his mind. He was even more grateful he couldn’t read anyone else’s mind.

“Please?” asked Dandelion. He widened his eyes and Eskel’s heart squeezed. “I just want you to understand how I see you.”

The witcher knew he would regret this. He truly couldn’t bear to hear sharp words or insults in his current state of...what was it...infatuation? But he also found himself powerless to resist the pleading in those eyes.

“Pretty please?” asked Dandelion, batting his eyelashes.

“You aren’t playing fair, love.” said Eskel. He quirked up one side of his mouth again, but just a little. Jaskier hadn’t been afraid of his voice. But he stupidly still wanted to look as handsome as he could. As though he could be any such thing.

“I know, that’s the point.” Dandelion clasped his hands in front of him as in prayer. “Would you like me to beg?”

Eskel heaved a sigh. “Ok angel. But if you hurt my feelings, I’m never going to forgive you.” He had meant that to come out silly and teasing. But to his horror it sounded completely sincere.

Dandelion grinned wide. “Trust me.”

CHAPTER 2

Eskel made the sign of axii. He watched Dandelion sit back, relaxing into the stool. His face slackened and his head tilted slightly. He looked drugged. Utterly vulnerable. Eskel stared in wonder. What kind of human looked at Eskel and thought, ‘ you know what’s a great idea? Being utterly defenseless and almost nude in an enclosed space with him’ ?

It was reckless on the part of Dandelion. It was also irrational on Eskel’s part to participate. Dandelion had agreed to service him. Why should Eskel risk the pain of rejection now? He should clear axii and just claim he’d asked for the truth and been satisfied. He could enjoy the handjob and go. But as Eskel raised his fingers to trace the sign in the air, he remembered what he’d seen outside when he’d met Dandelion. He remembered fingers clenching in a robe. He remembered a hurt expression. Eskel dropped his hand. He had to know.

“Dandelion,” asked Eskel softly. He traced his fingers along Dandelion’s tranquil face.

“Yes?” he answered in a small monotone voice.

“You must tell me the truth,” Eskel said.

“Oh, yes. The truth,” said Dandelion. He closed his eyes as Eskel’s hands caressed his temples.

Eskel swallowed.

“Did I...hurt your feelings when I said the madam had made a mistake? Did you think I didn’t want you?”

Dandelion’s dazed eyes clouded. His face pinched, pushing his lower lip into a pout. He nodded.

“Oh gods,” sighed Eskel. He felt a little ill. “Sweetheart.” He kissed Dandelion’s forehead.

“So you wanted to service me?” As he asked, his stomach clenched of its own accord. Fear was bitter in his throat.

“Oh. Yes. Desperately,” said Dandelion.

Eskel released tension he didn’t even notice had been knotting his shoulders. Maybe he should stop there. But then he decided to test his luck.

“You just called me gorgeous,” he said.

“Gorgeous,” whispered Dandelion.

“Did you mean it?” asked Eskel.

“Yes, of course.” said Dandelion.

“How am I gorgeous?” he asked.

“Look at you,” answered Dandelion dreamily. “You’re large and strong. Much stronger than an average man. It’s so exciting. The things you could do to me. You could lift me up and drop me on your huge cock.”

Eskel warmed like a kettle over Dandelion’s flame.

“Also, you’re handsome. Your eyes are amber and they twinkle with kindness. Your scars are outrageously sexy. Other people have common blank faces. Their skin doesn’t tell any stories. Your skin tells tales of brutal and heroic fights with monsters. ”

His words were a salve. But Eskel knew they weren’t exactly true. Yes, Dandelion meant them, but they weren’t true.

“Oh, my face scars didn’t come from a monster. And I’m no hero.”

Dandelion was silent. In the darkening room, the flickering candles cast shadows from his eyelashes. A wisp of his brown hair had fallen forward and stuck to his lips. Eskel reached out and brushed it away. His finger swiped across Dandelion’s lips, streaking lipstick onto his fair cheek. He would look stunning wrecked.

“Why do you think I’m a hero?” he asked.

“Well,” said Dandelion, “you rescued my niece Lety from a basilisk. Cut her right out of its stomach.”

Eskel’s jaw fell open and he sat back. That had been a good decade ago. But he remembered it. You can’t exactly forget cutting open a Basilisk stomach and pulling out a child. Eskel could still smell the reeking intestines when he thought of it. What were the chances?

But Dandelion was still speaking. He was talkative even under a calming spell.

“You know she’s my sister Sarah’s only daughter? She’d already lost her husband to the plague. Losing Lety would have killed her. And losing her. Well. It would have ruined me. Eskel, you aren’t just a hero. You’re my hero.” His words were passionate but his voice remained languid.

“I work for coin,” said Eskel. Ok no, he hadn’t been paid for that one. Still. This could not be. Dandelion sounded besotted. There had to be something about Eskel that disgusted him.

“Does it bother you that I can scent you?” he leaned close and nuzzled Dandelion’s neck.

“Gods no,” he answered. “It excites me.”

Eskel felt goosebumps rise on Dandelion’s neck.

“Why?” asked Eskel.

“I feel seen. Desired.” he said.

“That you are, angel,” murmured Eskel, and he kissed Dandelion tenderly just under his jaw.

Dandelion only stared ahead with the far off gaze of someone under axii’s control. But he squirmed on the stool. Eskel looked down and drew aside the flimsy robe. It fell open to reveal the head of Dandelion’s fully erect cock peeking out of the top of his velvety panties. There were dark spots of wet precum on the fabric. Eskel’s mouth watered like a starving man offered bread from the oven.

“What do you want, love?” he asked, breathlessly.

“I want everything,” said Dandelion. “All of it. I want to gag on your cock, which I just know is enormous. I want you to fuck me until my legs tremble. I want--”

As he spoke, Eskel heard Dandelion’s heart beating even faster, like hummingbird wings. So Eskel pressed a trembling hand to the man’s chest. Dandelion’s soft chest hair and warm skin against Eskel’s palm were a welcome sensation. Eskel spent so many years clutching a sword, building calluses. Not enough years doing this. Touching a lovely man. Eskel felt the vibrations of Dandelion’s heartbeats against his palm.

Dandelion continued describing all the filthy things he wanted Eskel to do with him, but the witcher couldn’t listen anymore. He would not allow himself futile fantasies. He had paid for a hand job because he knew his cock was too sizable for most humans. But wasn’t it a nice thought? Dandelion sliding up and down on his length, eyes flooded with lust and affection...for him . Pupils blown with the pleasure of being claimed by his cock. If Dandelion could take his cock at all, it would be right now, slacked and relaxed on axii. It would be much easier for him.

Eskel shook his head. No. He drew the sign again.

Dandelion’s face came back like he was emerging from water. Mischief, seduction, and tenderness snapped back into his features.

Yes. Eskel liked this much better.

“Did I satisfy your doubt? Do you trust me now?” asked Dandelion.

 Now that Eskel knew for a fact that Dandelion wanted him, perversely, he wanted to make a mad dash for the exit. Eskel was already addicted to the look of adoration in the man’s eyes. What if he ruined it somehow? But he also knew wild horses couldn’t drag him from Dandelion’s side now. Dear, trusting, adoring Dandelion. He’d leave him when he was asked to and not a moment sooner.

“We can just. Talk. If you want?” Eskel offered. He could listen. That wouldn’t ruin anything. And he loved Dandelion’s voice. The man’s lilt went straight to Eskel’s cock.

 Dandelion dropped his head. “Oooo no. No, no no. I thought for sure I would have made it clear how much I want you to fuck me.” He looked again at Eskel and seemed genuinely disappointed.  

 “Ok.” said Eskel. “Yes you did. Let’s go ahead. I paid for a handjob. Do you want to start, love?” He nodded down at his crotch. “I can’t wait to feel your hands on my cock.” And it was true. He couldn’t.

 Dandelion looked at him like he had a secret and slowly untied his trousers. Eskel’s cock sprang free. It was still hard from Dandelion’s seductive words only moments ago. Whenever Eskel went this long without being touched, even words from an inviting man could overwhelm him.  

 Dandelion looked at Eskel’s erection and released a long pleased “wowwwwwww”. His eyes were like dinner plates. The scent of Dandelion��s arousal flooded Eskel’s nostrils. Not fear. Arousal. So Eskel took Dandelion’s hands and guided them to his cock, pressing his fingers to wrap around it. 

 “It’s all yours angel,” he said.

 It had been so long since a hand other than his own had done that. Gripped him.  Eskel knew it would only take a stroke or two to finish him and gods he did not want this to be over so soon. Dandelion began to rub his hands up and down the witcher’s length.  Eskel tried to think about drowners in fetid swamp water. The way strigas are crusty. Lambert cleaning his teeth with a dagger. Anything. He looked over Dandelion’s head to avoid those eyes. Those alluring eyes that would surely have him embarrassed and cumming like a horny 15 year old boy.

 “Eskel.” said Dandelion.  Eskel snapped back to him.  Then, instead of pumping his cock, Dandelion loosened it.  Eskel whined.

He watched Dandelion quizzically as the man shrugged off his robe and lowered himself onto all fours. Dandelion’s face was soon level with Eskel’s cock. His back and ass were stretched out behind him.  Eskel eagerly stared from Dandelion’s soft head of hair, down his broad shoulders that sloped into narrow hips hugged by the black garter belt. When Dandelion stretched and pushed out his ass, the crotch of his satin panties slipped down and wedged between his round cheeks.  Eskel was so transfixed, he neglected to anticipate why Dandelion was on all fours to begin with. 

 Dandelion locked eyes with him, caught the tip of Eskel’s cock in his mouth, and suckled. Eskel almost leapt off the bed from the sheer shock of pleasure.  Dandelion rubbed his calves firmly to ground him though, so he stayed put.

“Oh fuck. Love. No. You don’t have--”

 But Dandelion pushed his lips down his shaft. Eskel felt his cock sinking deeper, deeper into the hot wetness of Dandelion’s mouth.  When he didn’t think Dandelion could take him deeper, the man nudged his body forward and took him deeper still. He must be in his throat now.

 Eskel clutched desperately at the bed and managed to bunch up the blankets into his fists.

 “Fuck. Fuck. How. Oh gods.” he muttered. His body was alight with pleasure.

 Dandelion pushed forward rhythmically in little bounces looking up at Eskel through black lashes. He was expending effort, no doubt. Breath puffed hard through his nostrils and tears clung to his lashes. But his eyes sparkled and arousal radiated from him. He was leaving the most precious red streaks from his lipstick on Eskel's cock. Eskel’s hand twitched to touch Dandelion’s head but he thought better of it.  As if reading his mind, Dandelion reached and took his hand, placing it on his head.  Encouraged, Eskel took his head, stroking his fingers through his hair firmly as Dandelion continued to bob.

“I’m going to. I don’t want to. Yet.” babbled Eskel.

Dandelion slowly slid his slick lips off Eskel’s cock and took a moment to relax his throat. Eskel tried to slow his breathing.  Dandelion sat on his heels, still clad in stilettos. His thighs splayed open and his lips hovered next to Eskel’s cock. There was drool and a shadow of lipstick on his chin and a wicked look in his eyes.

“Did you like that?” he asked innocently, his tone belying his expression.

“Godsdamnit, love. You’re really fucking good at that.”

 Dandelion winked. “I am a professional, darling.”

“You’re a gift.”

Dandelion smiled a fetching lopsided smile. “Do witchers not know how gifts work? You paid coin for services.”

“Not for this service,” said Eskel. His heart was still pounding, but it began to slow.

“True enough. But the upgrades were my idea. So, free of charge. Now. May I continue? I was in the middle of sucking this luscious cock.”

Eskel wheezed out a chuckle. “I just didn’t want to come yet.”

“Well. I have heard that witchers have an insane refractory period, so feel free to cum down my throat.  I’ll swallow every drop, then I’ll get your cock back up so you can fuck me properly.”

 “Oh angel, no. Are you--”

Dandelion sunk his mouth back onto his cock and Eskel’s words turned to a wanton moan.  Had that come out of his mouth? It had. It most definitely had. 

Dandelion’s lips were surprisingly taut and strong given how wide they were stretched. Eskel quickly felt that frantic pressure begin to build in his groin. Then Dandelion slipped his clever fingers into Eskel’s trousers. Oh yes, Eskel liked where this was going. He felt Dandelion press between his buttocks and roll in soft circles.  Dandelion dipped one fingertip into Eskel and moaned on his cock. That was all it took.  The witcher’s body shivered and he swayed. He clutched Dandelion’s head to steady himself and felt the relief of his release gushing into the back of the man’s throat. At first he only heard the long draw of his own moan. Then he heard Dandelion slurping as he pulled off his cock. 

Dandelion raised his head triumphantly.  Eskel’s cum coated his half open mouth and dripped down his chin.  Dandelion swiped a drop from his chin. “Oops, I missed some.” Then he sucked it off his own finger while he hummed contentedly.  “You are every bit as delicious as you look.” 

It was Dandelion that looked delicious, thought Eskel.  The man's chest and face were flushed. Some of the kohl around his eyes streaked onto his cheeks. Eskel felt a primal urge to make Dandelion sweat more and cry more tears of desperate bliss until it was all running down his delicate masculine face. Eskel raked his eyes down Dandelion’s body. He could see that his lush chest hair trailed off into a soft narrow black line down to his panties.  The satin was even wetter and riding down even farther on his straining cock, practically strangling it.  And Eskel had thought him a vision before. Fuck.

“Now. You are not allowed to bring all of this--” Dandelion gestured at all of Eskel “--into my room and keep it hidden. I get to see all of it. Everything.”

 Eskel flushed. Witchers couldn’t blush exactly, and yet people could always seem to tell when Eskel would have been blushing. 

Dandelion could obviously tell and his laughter tinkled.  “That’s right sweetheart. You’re going on display next.  May I?”

 “You can have anything you want, love,” said Eskel. 

At that Dandelion sparkled a smile. “Oooo that’s what I like to hear from my handsome witcher.” He stood up and stepped out of his shoes, kicking them aside. Then he stripped every article of clothing off of Eskel, cooing at everything he uncovered.  

“Oh your biceps are as wide as my thigh. Ahhh, your chest I want it to be my mattress. Dear gods your hips are so solid I can only imagine what they could do to me. Sweet Melitele, these thighs are begging me to straddle them. Ugh I love these scars they are so sexy, I want to know, *kiss, every, *kiss, story, *kiss. When Dandelion was done, Eskel was utterly disoriented by the intoxication of being an object of Dandelion's desire. He was also completely naked. Well, except for his witcher medallion and his necklace.

 “That,” said Dandelion pointedly, “Is staying on while you fuck me senseless, witcher.” Eskel burned with pride. “And this can stay too.” He touched Eskel’s chain that held a pendant replica of his sword. “It’s all sexy. Now, I know, I know, you paid for a handjob. I heard you. I just don't care. You are fucking me tonight.”

“But, I know it’s....sizable.” Eskel looked at him hesitantly.

“Darling.” said Jaskier.  “I literally just sucked off that magnificent cock. Don’t you think I am fully aware of its size?”

“Yes. But as pretty as I know your perfect little asshole must be, it’s more delicate.” While he spoke he stroked Dandelion’s arms.

 Dandelion looked at him. “Please Eskel, trust me. I know what my body can take.”

Eskel thought for a moment. Then he said with awe, “You really took me.  You took it all. You swallowed everything.”

Dandelion’s mouth curled into a grin, and he held Eskel’s cheeks in his hands, looking down into his face.

 “I did indeed.”

“You really do want me.”

“I really do.”

“But. You’re stunning, love. And sweet. And graceful. And I’m..”

“Gorgeous. Remember? That's what I said. And I'm always right." said Dandelion.

Eskel shook his head in wonderment.

"It's going to be easier if you just accept the fact now that I'm always right," said Dandelion.

Eskel let it sink in for a moment. Then he asked, “So. If what I paid for is no longer relevant, does that mean...” he stopped. 

“Go ahead,” said Dandelion gently. “You can ask me anything’”

“Can I...touch you?” Asked Eskel.

Dandelion's eyes softened. “Oh sweet Eskel.”

 “It’s just. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. And if we’re improvising now...”

Dandelion chuckled warmly. “That’s exactly what we’re doing darling witcher. So please. I’m all yours.”

CHAPTER 3

Eskel had always preferred love ballads over battle songs.  He’d fought every creature imaginable to the death.  He knew the reality. You stood aching, cold, and pissing yourself in some swamp or outside some castle completely sure you’d never see your family again. Your ears were pummeled by the animalistic, terrified shrieks of death. Your nose inundated with scents of men shitting themselves as the last of their souls left their bodies. It was something that you drank to forget. Miserable memories that visited you in nightmares.

The only people who loved ballads of bloodshed were politicians. It was the best way to convince younglings to take up arms. Politicians and younglings could keep the tales of heroism. Eskel would choose a love ballad any day.

Why occupy yourself with thoughts of hacking off slimy limbs or pulling fangs out of your shoulders. Why? When you could be sitting on a downy bed with a tall lean man standing in front of you with a heavy cock tugging at pink panties inviting you to touch him wherever your heart desired?

Eskel ran his hands down Dandelions chest and sides, feeling his calluses slide down soft fragrant skin. How could a human be this soft? Maybe it was magic of some kind?

He basked in the unrestrained affection in the crinkles around Dandelion’s eyes.

 Despite his longevity, and despite his century already lived, moments like this were still rare and precious. If this enchanting soul, this Dandelion, was truly to be his tonight, he would savor it.

“Has anyone ever told you your skin feels like petals after a rain?” asked Eskel.

 Dandelion planted a kiss on the top of his head.  He held it there for a few seconds. Eskel’s eyelids fluttered closed.

 “I spent an hour in the bath, with pumice stones, and oils. I wanted to be perfect for you,” he murmured.

“You’re better than perfect, love.” Said Eskel.

“So true,” Dandelion. “Perfect is a boring, overrated concept.”

Eskel allowed his hands to roam.  He ran them from Dandelion’s calves up his long legs to his ass, which he palmed and squeezed.

 “Your legs are so long and graceful. They’re practically to your neck,” Eskel said, enraptured.

 Dandelion took his face and tilted it up. He leaned down and kissed Eskel delicately like he was made of china and not a solid wall of muscle and scarring.  Eskel could reach Dandelion’s shoulders and neck better now so he fondled and delighted in them. Dandelion was a big man if you compared him to the Madam or anyone else who worked at the brothel. But in Eskel’s hands the man’s neck looked delicate and slender. His shoulders were sinewy and sturdy, but easily enclosed in Eskel’s grip.

 Eskel had wanted to kiss Dandelions pretty fuzzy stomach since the man had loosened his robe at their introduction.  So the witcher nuzzled down and kissed it, nosing the hair and nipping his belly button. Then Eskel dragged his tongue from Dandelion’s stomach over to his hip and kissed the waistband of his panties. He could feel goosebumps on the man’s skin and sense him warming under his tongue.

“Oh, Eskel,” Dandelion whispered.

 “Don’t you think it’s time you got rid of these?” Eskel asked. “They’re so fine. But you’ve outgrown them.” He ghosted hot breath over Dandelion's straining cock, and darted out his tongue to capture the precum beading at the tip, still peeking out of the satin. Dandelion shivered and his groan was full of want.

“Yes, yes, darling.”

 Eskel grasped the buckles of the garters. They were so delicate in his coarse fingers that he tried and failed a few times to keep a grip on them. But he managed a light grip that wouldn’t break them, and slowly unclipped them all until the garter belt was loose.

 “Did you know your tongue pokes out and you squint when you concentrate?” asked Dandelion. ‘It's so cute.”

Eskel smiled. “These things are tricky, love!”

 He slid the garter belt and panties down all the way to Dandelion's ankles, dragging his fingers along with them. The stockings stayed put somehow.  Eskel didn’t pretend to know how these things worked.

 Now Dandelions cock was bobbing in front of Eskel. It was thick and gorgeous and curved gently back towards his stomach. Eskel had to taste it. He dragged his tongue up the exquisite curve and Dandelion moaned. Eskel closed his mouth over it and sucked hungrily while Dandelion shivered and gripped his brawny shoulders to keep himself from doubling over in ecstasy.  Eskel bobbed his head then pushed forward until his nose was touching Dandelion's stomach again. He inhaled deeply for the hit of honeysuckle wine scent he already craved in his bones.

 “Fucking hell,” Dandelion cried. He was breathing faster now. 

Eskel felt Dandelion touch his head firmly. He slowly began to pull his heavy cock out of Eskel’s watering mouth with a strangled whine.

Eskel grabbed his ass to stop him before his mouth was completely empty.  He tilted his head up to look at Dandelion, the soft slick tip of the man’s cock still pressing into the lower lip of his open mouth.

“Please? Let me?” he said, rolling a languid circle around the tasty head with his tongue. “I know your cum is just as tasty as you are, angel.”

 “Sweet mother of gods,” groaned Dandelion. “Fuck. Yes.” 

 Eskel eagerly sucked him down again hollowing his cheeks for the tightest pull of pressure.

 “Gahhh ok, no no not yet.” said Dandelion, pulling his cock out. Eskel kept sucking so the pop when it left him was filthy and pronounced.  Eskel whimpered. His mouth felt so empty.

 “I don’t want to come yet darling. I’m not a witcher, so I’m saving it. I want to come with your cock so far up my ass I can feel it in my throat. But holy gods your mouth is divine.”

 Eskel smiled wide and bright and licked his lips.

 “There it is.” Said Dandelion.

 “What?” Asked Eskel.

 “Your gorgeous smile.” Said Dandelion. “Bless me with it as often as you find me worthy. Now lie back. I promised I would get you hard again and I never break a promise.”

 Eskel looked down and shockingly he was already half hard again. Even for a witcher that was fast. In all fairness, Dandelion's cock had been especially provocative rolling around in his mouth.

“I’m almost there already.”

 “I never settle for almost.” winked Dandelion. “If there's anything you especially like, now is the time to speak up.”

“Well.” said Eskel hesitantly. “My scars. The ones on my body.”

“Yes?”

 “The areas around them are sensitive.”

 “Ahhhhh.” said Dandelion.  “Now I definitely need you to lie back.”

 Eskel laid back on the large plush bed.  He took up most of it.

 “Stunning” Dandelion muttered, as he crawled onto Eskel. His cock was right there, so Eskel couldn't resist giving it a little stroke.

“OOoooohh gods.” said Dandelion.  “None of that now. Close your eyes and focus on the sensations.”

It was like Dandelion had practiced his whole life for this moment, because he just seemed to know. He electrified Eskel by dragging the tip of his tongue down the sides of scars and pressing his teeth gently to them.  He muttered ‘so pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ as Eskel squirmed, flattered and gratified by his attentions.

He tended to every single part of Eskel’s body that was sensitive to pleasure or in need of a calming touch. Sensation sparked when Dandelion nuzzled the palms of Eskel’s hands. Nibbled the inside of his thigh. Laved his tongue in circles around his nipples. 

 Eskel’s body sunk further into the bed as Dandelion kneaded his thick shoulders, then pecs, then hips.  Before long, his cock was straining and hard again, and Eskel had forgotten every care.

 “Ok,” said Dandelion. Eskel opened his eyes to see Dandelion on all fours above him. His grey eyes shone. Eskel eagerly stroked his sides, happy to be touching him again.

 “I told you I could.” said Dandelion.

 Eskel smiled. “You got me as hard as my blade again. You are a wonder.” He wrapped his arms around Dandelion’s neck. 

 “Eskel.”

 “Yes?”

 “Sit up.”

 Eskel sat up again on the end of the bed.  Dandelion wrapped around him from behind. Eskel could feel his erection pressing into his lower back.

 "You sure you don't want me to take care of that?"

“Soon enough. Now.  Forget everything and everyone outside of this room.  Forget them. Fuck them. The only thing that exists is me and you, right now.”

 Dandelion’s arms were draped over Eskel's shoulders from behind, so his hands hung in front of the witcher's chest. Eskel took the opportunity to thread their fingers together and touch his fingers to Dandelion’s palms.  There was something about hands touching hands that moved him. He stroked them and listened.

 “Gladly,” said Eskel.

 “Please understand that a person who adores you is closest to the gods when stuffed with your cock. There is no ritual more sacred to him than being impaled on the steel of your erection. No communion more holy than your cum sliding down his throat.”

 Well. Thought Eskel. Well. I mean. Well.

 Every thought emptied from his mind and his body practically vibrated.

Wait. Had he said--?

 “You adore me?”

 “You’re adorable.”

 Eskel chuckled. “That’s a new one.”

 “I’m sorry that other people lack imagination and good judgment.  But they aren’t here tonight. I am. You are a powerful, gorgeous mountain of a man. And I want it all. I am a greedy little fucker. I want my hole stretched wide on that huge cock. And I know you will open me up with those captivating hands until I am so ready that it will be utter bliss.”

 It was an absolute miracle Eskel didn’t cum on his own lap.

CHAPTER 4

Dandelion slipped his arms from Eskel’s shoulders and pulled away.  Eskel felt a pinch of loss.  But Dandelion hadn’t gone far.  The witcher could hear him arranging himself on the bed.

“Now turn around and open your eyes.”

 Dandelion was on all fours at the top of the bed, his ass facing Eskel. The witcher watched speechless with widening eyes. Dandelion lowered his chest and shoulders onto the mattresses until his ass was practically floating in the air.  The bed had become a dinner tray serving the most mouthwatering morsel. 

Dandelion’s puckered little hole was on full display. His balls and comely hard cock hung below like ripe succulent fruit. His black stockings created an enticing contrast with his fair skin where they constrained his thighs. They seemed to frame his ass, offering it up. Dandelion’s hands and arms were folded beneath him now, in complete surrender. 

He wasn’t just  unafraid  of being vulnerable for Eskel, the witcher realized, he  thrilled in it. 

The side of Dandelion’s face was pressed to the plush bedcover. He targeted Eskel with a demure smile and fluttered his eyelashes.  It didn’t take a mage to divine that he knew exactly what he was doing to the witcher.  Eskel was putty in the hands of this magnificent creature. He must be favored by the gods after all.

Dandelion reached back with both hands and opened himself. “Take me.”

 The gesture unleashed a shock of raw lust in Eskel. He wanted to take Dandelion apart. Ruin him in the best way. But he took several steadying breaths and controlled his movements. He crawled up to kneel behind Dandelion. To take his offered gift. He gently took his hips and soaked in the sight.

 “I’ve got this, love.”

 Dandelion dropped his hands and murmured. “By all means.” His eyes were soft.

 “I’m going to make this so good for you.” Said Eskel.

 Dandelion hummed in agreement. “It’s what I’m counting on.” 

 So was Eskel.

 Having witcher senses wasn’t always easy. Sometimes the constant barrage of stimuli overwhelmed even the most experienced witcher. But right now, Eskel’s senses felt like a superpower. He could know Dandelion more intimately than other people. Hear the beat of his heart and time every silent gasp. Scent and taste every change in his pheromones. No average human could please Dandelion the way he could. 

 Dandelion had chosen him, and Eskel was going to make him glad he did.

 Sometimes being a mutant wasn’t all bad.

 He squeezed Dandelion's ass tight and opened him wider. He felt how easily he could pick him up. Move him how he wished.

 So he lifted Dandelion’s ass higher and buried his face in him.  Dandelion was sweet everywhere, and his gasp was like a ballad. Eskel would devour him whole if he could. He couldn’t even remember the last time a want had possessed him so willfully.

 The witcher flicked his tongue in firm circles around the ridges of his delicate entrance. He was gratified to feel Dandelion squirm and keen in his grip. 

 “You taste so good, sweet Dandelion,” said Eskel.

 “Then feast on me,” Dandelion said. His curls were spread on the pillow like rays of the sun.

 So he did. Eskel licked up and down his cleft and ridges, egged on by Dandelion’s alluring groans and wiggles.  He slurped and moved his face and tongue in circles. He listened and felt Dandelion's responses. A twitch, a hitched breath, and Eskel honed his movements.

 He licked deeper, plunging into him, feeling Dandelion shiver and squeeze around his tongue. He felt Dandelion’s thighs begin to tremble. He scented the tang of fresh precum.

 “Gods I need you, Eskel” he pleaded, sounding distressed and darling. “I want your cock.”

 “Shhhh.” Eskel reassured him, soothing and smoothing his hands down Dandelions back. “Your precious little hole is slick from my tongue. It’s pretty, but it’s not ready.”

 Dandelion waved sloppily towards a bottle on the stand.

 Eskel opened it and the scent of almond oil greeted him. He poured a steady stream of it onto Dandelion’s ass.  It pooled and then dribbled down his cleft and thighs. Dandelion glistened in the candlelight. So tempting.

 “You aren’t taking any chances.”  Dandelion smiled half into the mattress. 

 “Not with you, angel,” said Eskel. “I won’t fuck you until you’re juicy and supple like a ripe plum.” 

 Dandelion waggled his hips happily. Eskel gave him a playful light smack on the ass just to see it jiggle.

“Quit your teasing,” he said. 

The swift crackle of lust he scented from Dandelion told him everything he needed to know. He’d remember that for next time. Gods please let there be a next time.

 Eskel stroked the oil onto his own cock and urgent desire shot through him. He yearned to be inside of Dandelion. To fuck him boneless. He ignored his mutinous cock. This was not a thing to be rushed.

 “Tell me what feels good, angel. And tell me if you want me to stop.”

 “Eskel,” begged Dandelion. “Anything. Just please.”

 Eskel thumbed at his cleft, and touched Dandelion’s entrance lightly at first so he wouldn’t startle. Then in a gentle, fluid motion, Eskel dipped in a thumb and pressed, then slid in a circle. He felt Dandelion clutch and release. Clutch and release before becoming pliant around his thumb.

 “Oh fuck.” Dandelion cried.

“There, there, love,” burred Eskel. “Is that good then?”

Dandelion laughed like he was dazed. “Is that--is it--good--? Yes.” His voice was choppy and breathy. “I’m going to cum right now if you keep rumbling at me with that seductive growl.”

 Eskel chuckled. 

He pulled out his thumb and dipped a finger into Dandelion, sliding tight down to the second knuckle.  Dandelion’s groans were becoming more obscene. His shameless begging was swiftly becoming Eskel’s favorite poetry. 

 Eskel held Dandelion’s hip tight with one hand and wiggled in a second finger, searching for the spot he knew would drive him wild. He found it. 

 Dandelion cried out in ecstasy and shoved back spearing himself deeper on Eskel’s fingers. 

 “Please. Eskel. Fuck me now.”

 Eskel “tsk’ed, tsk’ed’. 

“Wanton little thing. You’ve done quite enough bossing me around for one night,” the witcher said fondly. “This is for your own good. My cock is going to stretch you so much further and you need to be ready. I’ll not have you claiming your witcher was a brute.”

“What if I cry,” pouted Dandelion and bounced back again trying to get more of Eskel inside of him. “Then you’ll feel terrible you didn’t fuck me when I told you to.”

 Eskel rumbled softly in his chest as he thrust in again with two fingers. “Angel tears are fine as long as they are the right kind tears.”

Eskel slid in a third finger.  

“Gahhh.”

 “See? Sweet Dandelion? You can barely take the third finger yet.”

 Eskel thought Dandelion wanted to say fuck you, but it just sort of came out as a ffffff. Eskel chuckled again. Gods he was cute. Then he pressed and twisted and massaged. 

Another squeal.

“It was you who said I would make it good for you. I won’t let you down.” 

“But. But.—“ 

He watched Dandelion’s hole intently and spread four fingers now to stretch it wider. Then he impulsively dipped in his tongue again because he couldn't resist another taste. Dandelion squeaked again and jerked forward, only to whine when Eskel’s fingers slipped out.

“Hold yourself still then love, I can’t think of everything,” Eskel teased.

“You wicked man. You wicked sexy man torturing me like this. I’m ready please.”

“I think you might be,” Said Eskel. “As ready as you’re going to get.”

Eskel grasped him and turned him over. He crawled up his body and looked into his eyes.  “Are you sure?”

Dandelion nodded in jerky motions. His eyes looked wild and pleading. He grasped his own knees and pulled them up to his chest. “Baby. Please. All I need now is that perfect cock.” 

Eskel smiled and pinched his chin.

“I said now, witcher.”

 “Fuck, ok love,” said Eskel. 

 He lined himself up with Dandelion’s entrance, but even though he had prepped him as well as humanly possible, he was still so tight it stole Eskel’s breath.

 Dandelion was panting.

 “Breathe deep, sweet thing.” Said Eskel. “Take your time.”

 “I can take it darling, keep going,”  Dandelion whispered from behind clenched teeth.  His pupils were blown, his eyes darkened. His neck strained.

 Eskel nudged. He inched slow and controlled. Dandelion was impossibly tight, but also impossibly soft. More velvety than his panties, and tight as a vice.  Eskel’s lizard brain screamed again for him to take more, faster. To submerge his cock entirely in the excruciating pleasure of Dandelions clutch.  But he held Dandelion’s ass tight, his legs folded against his chest, and kept a steady pace. 

 Dandelion held completely still, head thrown back baring his smooth neck. He breathed progressively slower.  His hands were digging half moon marks into Eskel’s hulking biceps. Eskel considered the scratches a badge of honor.

 Being able to see Dandelion like this at all was a privilege. No pretenses. No defenses. Just animal desires.  Impaled on Eskel’s cock. 

 He was eventually almost completely seated.  He grasped Dandelions hips like handles, squeezing him down tighter.

 Dandelion was a babbling drooling wreck.  He looked at Eskel with naked need.

 “Move. Please. I need you. I need you.” Dandelion chanted.

 So Eskel did. Dandelion was almost just as tight the second full thrust. He pushed Dandelions legs up tighter against his chest so he could see his thick cock stretching his asshole.  So he could fully comprehend that he was fucking this stunning man. Who wanted him. Who begged him. Who was so lost in pleasure he seemed on another plane of existence.

 After a few steady slow thrusts, he felt Dandelion finally begin to ease. After a few more, he felt like his cock was gliding. Then Dandelion opened enough that Eskel slipped in and out sloppy and squelching in oil and sweat. 

 As his body adjusted, Dandelion held his gaze. “More. Yes. Right there.

“Always” thrust “giving” thrust “orders” thrust. Eskel purred as he fucked him exactly as demanded. Eskel felt a fuzzy warmth begin to gather deep in him. It was time to slow down.

 He gently loosened Dandelion’s legs and laid them flat and open.  He wanted to reach his cock. He hoped he would be allowed to stroke it now. He had to see Dandelion cum first then fuck him wild and overstimulated.  He laid his broad hand softly on it and curled his fingers. Dandelion moaned and nodded. So he gripped it tight.  It was thick and pulsed in his hand. He must be close.

 Eskel stroked him and kept thrusting in time. He punched precious little grunts out of Dandelion with each thrust.  But he held back just a bit.  There was no way Dandelion could take everything.  After a few moments of sure stroking, Dandelion clenched down on his cock and Eskel almost shouted.

 “Fuck. Eskel. Yes. Yes baby. Fuck.” Dandelion cried.

 Eskel watched Dandelion’s hot cum splatter onto his fist.  The sight of it, along with the sight of his lovely face contorting in perfect unhinged lust as he came, was going to do in Eskel. But Dandelion took his messy hand.

 “Eskel darling.” Dandelion choked husky and ragged.  “Come here.”

 Eskel lowered himself over Dandelion, his cock still buried deep in his ass.  Eskel felt a trickle of sweat dribble down his spine.  He stroked Dandelion's sweaty forehead, pushing aside his wet tendrils.  He slid his fingers through the darker streaks of kohl and rouge and lipstick.  Eskel pushed his tongue between Dandelions lips and they kissed and panted together.

 “Yes, love?” he asked.

 “You’re being a naughty witcher.” He said with a knowing smile. “I can feel you holding back. And if you do not give me every single inch of that thick cock I will charge you triple.  Quadruple. I will take you for every penny you have. I’ll have your house and your horse.”

 “Oh you can have all that anyway, angel,” said Eskel with conviction. "Just take it. Look at you so darling on my cock. Do you want the moon? Just ask.”

 “The moon?”

 The moon was indeed now glowing through the crack in the curtain making Dandelion look even more ethereal. Stuffed with Eskel’s cock in that glow he was downright heavenly.

 “Well. I can’t get that,” admitted Eskel. “But I could probably get you a selkimore carcass. If you really wanted.” Eskel laughed heartily, and Dandelion giggled, then squeezed down on his cock making the Witcher groan deep in his throat.  That one was definitely on purpose.

 “Don't try to distract me with your luminous smile and your wiles. I won’t be happy until you cum deeper inside me than I even knew possible.”

 “Ok angel.”

 “And when you come, I want you to call my name.  

 “Yes my Dandelion. Your wish is my command.” 

 Dandelion gripped him tighter and shook his head. 

 “No.”

 “No?”

 “Julian. When you come, say Julian.”

 So Eskel grasped his ass with both powerful hands and hoisted him up, spreading apart his cheeks. And gods help him he shoved fast and hard.  Dandelion’s head lolled back and he whispered… 

 “More. More. Baby, more,” as he choked out dainty soft sobs. 

 The witcher smelled salty frantic arousal, desperation and just a hint of pain. His instinct was to pull back but Dandelion whispered ferociously while locking his gaze...

 “More.”

 Eskel slid his hands down Dandelion’s ankles, fingers sliding on the stockings until he found purchase. Dandelion kept his hips raised at just the right angle. Eskel used his grip on his ankles to control his push.

 Eskel shoved the last of his length as deeply into his lovely Dandelion as he could and his angel howled. Eskel’s cock was enveloped perfectly all the way to the hilt. He looked into Dandelion’s glazed adoring eyes and thrust harder.  

 More.  

The bed jumped. They slapped together like an erotic drumbeat.  

 More. 

 Soon Eskel could feel nothing else but the excruciating, exquisite pressure of Dandelion clenched around his cock. The soft velvety slide.  Soon his hips were stuttering and heat was burning in his stomach so scalding had to put it out. He looked into Dandelions eyes, thrust in hard and came with a bass growl. “Julian.” he managed to huff out. “Julian, sweet Julian.”

 As Eskel felt his cum empty into Dandelion, he pressed their sweaty bodies together, making sure it buried deep.

 “Oh yes, look at you,” whispered Dandelion. “Give me everything.” He squeezed his trembling thighs around Eskel’s sides. “Fuck you are so hot so amazing. You make me feel so good.”

 When he was fully spent, Eskel pulled out gingerly. He held Dandelion’s thighs back tightly and leaned down and planted a sweet soothing kiss at Dandelion’s entrance, where the musk of his own cum greeted him.  

 Then Eskel settled above Dandelion, held up on his elbows, face close enough to feel puffs of breath and see streaks of tears. Though he hulked above him, he had completely forgotten to worry about frightening him. 

 “I feel so safe with you covering me.” Said Dandelion. Eskel saw a tear escape.

 “Are you ok, love?” he asked, gliding his rough fingers down wet trails on his cheeks and looking intently into Dandelions eyes for any signs of distress.

 “Yes, sweetheart.  These are good tears.”

 Eskel was certain that if asked, in that moment, he could fly.

 Eskel sunk into him with another kiss. He inhaled the scents of honeysuckle, cum, sweat, almond oil. He knew that once this scent wore off, he would do anything to find it again. He knew it had only taken one hit to develop an addiction.  

 Eskel needed to look again at Dandelion's naked body. He sat up next to him and rubbed his panting glistening chest.  It was then that he noticed the black fishnet stockings were inflicting little angry red lines around Dandelion’s thighs.

 “That doesn’t look comfortable.”

 “Says the man that just had his enormous cock in my ass.”

 “You loved it, angel.”

 “I did.” smiled Dandelion.  He lifted up a leg and propped it on Eskel.

 Eskel reached for the first stocking, fingered it and lifted it off of Dandelion’s leg.  Then he hooked his finger underneath and just as he’d fantasized earlier, he slowly began to roll it delicately down.  Dandelion lifted and stretched his leg so Eskel could roll it all the way down, trailing his fingers with it until he pulled it off of Dandelion's foot.  

Then Dandelion drew his other leg up and propped it on Eskel’s shoulder. Gods he was limber.  So Eskel rolled down that stocking too, making sure to grope and kiss as much of his gorgeous thigh as he could.  Then he licked and kissed and rubbed the red rings around Dandelions thighs, while Dandelion watched him through heavy lids, smiling and biting his lower lip.

Then he laid down and gathered Dandelion in his arms pulling him in. He kissed him on the forehead then light as a breeze on each eyelid.  He couldn’t stop kissing him. 

They laid there in a comfortable silence for several long blissful moments as Eskel squeezed him tight and kissed the last of his tears.

Then Eskel remembered something.

“Wait.” Said Eskel. “Julian? Julian what?”

FINAL CHAPTER (5)

“Julian Alfred Pankratz,” said Dandelion.

“And that little girl was your niece?”

“I told you that did I? Under axii?” mused Dandelion.

“Yes.” said Eskel.

“Yes. Lety.” said Dandelion, as he rubbed Eskel’s back with languid strokes. “She’s a darling teenager now. She’s training to be a midwife.  She’ll help the other women in the village. You did that.” 

“So,” said Eskel. “Wait. So that means you were...the pretty adolescent boy who attempted to...thank me?”

 “That was me!” said Dandelion triumphantly. “You remembered!”

 “It’s hard to forget a boy that offers to ‘ride your cock until it falls off'."  He said through peels of laughter.

 They laughed like a runaway cart going downhill.

 “Oh gods I was so ridiculous. I can’t believe what I thought was proper dirty talk then.  It’s so embarrassing. But many men would have taken me up on it.  And you were the gentleman who said no.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me when I got here?” Asked Eskel.

 “I couldn’t risk a second rejection, darling,” said Dandelion. He was teasing but there was vulnerability there too.

 “Well. That’s different, love. You were so young. So slender. Little Julek.”

 “I had far more cum than good sense, and I wasn’t half as experienced as I liked to think. So it’s for the better that you protected me from myself,” said Dandelion, and nuzzled further into him.

 “So this was your way of finally compensating me?”

 Dandelion cast his eyes down and his smirk became a smile, warm and sweet, nose and eyes crinkling.

 “No. It was my way of finally bedding my first crush.”  

 “I hope I didn’t disappoint,” said Eskel. He hooked one of Dandelion's legs to entangle them tighter into a knot that wouldn’t readily loosen.

 “Better than my wildest fantasy,” said Dandelion, “And I’ve been fantasizing wildly since I was fifteen. So that’s saying something.” He squeezed Eskel. “Gods, your barrel chest makes me weak. Absolutely weak.” He ran his hands over the expanse of Eskels pecs to emphasize his point. He nibbled a pec playfully. Eskel found himself laughing yet again and pinching Dandelion's ass. 

 “Dandelion. Love. You make me feel like a dashing knight,” said Eskel.

 “Oh. You are much better than a knight, darling. Trust me. They are obsessed with themselves and their station in life. It’s exhausting. And all of the heroics? Fabrications. You think any of them would actually get their breeches muddy? No. I much prefer a witcher.”

 Eskel grunted happily, his hands still petting Dandelion.  He knew he’d be leaving soon and he couldn’t bear the thought of having left one solitary part of his lithe body untouched. 

 “Well,” corrected Dandelion. “This witcher, specifically. You’re the only one I’ve been with.”

 Eskel raised his head and cocked an eyebrow. “You accept witchers, and I’m the only taker?”

 “Well. Technically, I actually heard that you  specifically  were in the city on a job. I thought it would be awkward and maybe off putting to send a message, hey some stranger you don’t remember really wants to fuck you.”

 Eskel laughed again.  “Love, all you have to do is crook your little finger. I would travel the continent.”

 “Good,” said Dandelion. “As it should be.” He was laughing that tinkling laugh again.

 “You should come to Kaer Morhen.” said Eskel. “My brothers would all fall hopelessly in love with you.”

 “Are they all as sweet and charming as you are?” Asked Dandelion.

 “Not on your life.” Eskel laughed. “Geralt is grouchy and melodramatic.  Lambert is a dick. Coen’s alright I guess.”

 They shook together again with laughter.

 “But they are good men,” he allowed. “They’re my pack.  My family.”

 “Well. As incredibly tempting as a stable full of sexy witchers sounds, I’m happy here.  I’m appreciated for my skills. I choose my own clients.  Madam Novak is more like a den mother than a madam.”

 “Well. How about a visit?”

 “Well. That could be nice,” said Dandelion. “Consider me convinced.”

 Something occurred to Eskel. He detangled himself from Dandelion and sat up.

 “Actually,” he said, as he reached to take off his necklace. “Vesemir made this for me after I helped your niece.  He can work with steel and sometimes he makes us little trinkets to celebrate victories or accomplishments. This one is a replica of the sword I used.”

 Dandelion sat up so he could place it around his neck. 

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yes.” Said Eskel. “Hold onto it until you come see me.”

 Dandelion looked almost bashful, if that was possible. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.” Then the mischief twinkled again in his eyes.  “And I can’t wait to brag to my sister that I finally managed to bed the witcher I had my sights set on all those years ago. She’ll act like she doesn’t want the details but I know better.”

 Eskel kissed him again. He wanted to kiss Dandelion with every kiss in his arsenal.  Soft. Sweet. Passionate. Tender. Fierce.

 “You know,” said Dandelion. “I cleared my schedule for you today and tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to stay.”

 “Really?” Eskel asked, nosing Dandelion’s hair, and kissing him again.

 “Yes, really.”

 Eskel snuggled into his neck and purred. He felt like a man granted a stay of execution.

 “How could I resist?”

 They darted back under the covers and Eskel drew Dandelion into his arms again. Exactly where he wanted him.

 =====

The next morning, Eskel found Madam Novak in the library. She was sitting at a table and counting coin.

“Good morning witcher,” she said, looking up. Eskel liked her. She was courteous. Professional. The witcher respected it. He strived for the same in his trade.

“Good morning madam,” he said. “I’m off now. Here to settle my account."

Eskel took out his coin purse and he dumped every single coin onto the table in front of the bemused Madam. When it was empty, he turned it inside out just to make sure.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” said the madam. “But this is far more than we agreed on.” She was smiling and shaking her head.

 Eskel didn’t answer. He was too busy searching his pockets and his boots for more coin.

 “Ah!” Eskel found a few more coins and plopped them down.  “I’d give you my horse too if I didn’t need it to get home.”

“I don’t want to say that I told you so,” Madam Novak said with a smug chuckle. 

Eskel bowed his head slightly. “You’re welcome to do so madam.”

 “Ok I told you so.” she said. “He’s special, isn’t he.”

 “He surely is.”

 “We love him around here.”

 “Anyone with sense would love him,” said Eskel.

 “Indeed, witcher. And I expect I’ll see you again soon?”

 “That you will, madam.” said Eskel. 

 He took his leave and walked out into the morning air. He stretched and called cheerily for his horse. He was ready to take on the next ten jobs. He felt like a new Witcher. He felt like a new man.

 And he hoped the scent of honeysuckle wine on the handkerchief tucked in his tunic would last until he found his way back.

#the witcher #jaskier #eskel #jaskel #descarada writes #descarada writes jaskel #my fics on ao3 #eskel's angel

[jocelynscloset]

Hey I saw on your misc fic rec blog that you’re into the new Witcher series!?! Can I get some smexy Geralt Headcanons about Geralt with a petit reader? Maybe an NSFW alphabet in the future?

I am myself very petit so I love imagining Geralt being a gentle giant when he’s with his little love. So for all my little ladies out there, please enjoy ;) NSFW content is under the cut.

Word Count: 589

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Geralt and you have a tradition that when he first walks in through the door of your shared cottage he always greets you with a bear hug in which he lifts you off the ground before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that says “I missed you” better than any verbal sentiment ever could.

It’s not uncommon that you and Geralt cook your dinner together, and when you’re trying to reach high cupboards or trying to manage 5 tasks at once, he’s always there to offer his giant hands to help, which are typically resting readily on your hips while you busy yourself chopping or peeling.

He loves that your head lands right on his broad chest when he hugs you, because he can easily stroke your hair, kiss the crown of your head, etc. While also having easy access to let his hands drift down and grasp at your bottom, which always makes you squeal with surprise and delight, and he thinks that might just be his favorite sound.

When you two are in bed, his feet nearly hang off the end of the bed while you have a good foot of mattress to spare. Though, no matter how much space there’s available to spread out in, you always end up half-way on top of him, your face firmly pressed into his neck and your leg draped over his waist.

He knows that you love to play with his hair, and it’s just as enjoyable for him, so he regularly kneels down or sits in a chair while you stand so you can brush and stroke the white strands, silently drinking in his deep breaths and gentle hums.

Jaskier has always made a game of teasing your size, but became routine when you and Geralt finally got together. He even wrote a song about “Geralt of Rivia’s half-dwarf lover”. You giggle every time he mentions it in front of Geralt, which earns Jaskier a gentle punch in the gut.

(Though, he doesn’t mind hearing that sweet, melodic laugh of yours, no matter what causes it)

Things in the bedroom are quite interesting as a result of your size difference. There’s only so many positions you can manage because he is so much larger and heavier than you. So, you two make up for it with a lot of adventurous locations and some naughty activites that precede your actual sex.

You tease him quite a lot, which he finds trouble punishing you for because you can so easily put on an innocent, helpless facade that discourages him from ever clapping back at your devious actions.

Baths with Geralt are very relaxing because on top of the warmth of the water enveloping you and easing the tension in your muscles, Geralt’s skin and taught muscles are so nice to lean into and stroke under the water.

He’s also got a tendency to be very gentle and sensual in the bath, washing your hair for you, caressing your skin, washing you and massaging every muscle he can reach. He spends the whole bath planting gentle, wet kisses along your neck and shoulders, whispering sweet nothings that make you eager to finish up in the water and drown between the sheets with the man that’s loving on you so tenderly.

He abides by your request to still be rough with you when you want it, despite how easily he could hurt you, but there’s always a delicate tint to his touches that melts your heart and turns your legs to jelly.

__

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[owillofthewisps]

soak you to the bone

notes: @witchernonsense posted these prompts a while back and the ‘reader drunk and sobbing over loss, Geralt utterly unsure of how to approach’ caught me but i left it alone for a bit.  and then i came back to it. and immediately deviated a bit.

title is from the amazing devil’s ‘welly boots’ (because leave it to me to be prompted by a specific lyric and then use another lyric from a different song)

please be a lil bit gentle with me on this one, folks.

rating: teen.  (warnings: angst, grief/mourning, parental death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, reader being cruel while drunk, brief mention of vomiting, no happy ending)

pairing: geralt of rivia/reader

word count: 1.5k

sometimes, grief can make you cruel.  sometimes, it’s easier to hurt instead of be hurt. 

“You’re drunk,” Geralt says, softer than you’d like.

“Mhmm.”

The wine has left you hazy, flows tacky through your veins and burns warm beneath your skin.  You tilt your head back, feel the faintest kiss of pain as the back of your skull hits the wall behind you.  The sting of it is veiled, shrouded by the wine.  It doesn’t matter.  There’s pain anyway, growing like brambles around your ribs, sinking thorns deep between the gaps in the bones.  It stings even through the cotton wrapped around you, bleeds through the bandage of the alcohol.

Geralt is at the threshold of your room.  He hovers ghostlike, at the edge of your world and lost with no map.  He’s wispy at the edges, the white of his hair like rolling fog, bleeding and blurring as you blink against the saltwater of your tears.  A specter all your own.

Am I not haunted enough, you think, the thought rising from the murky deep.  Your head feels like a stone dropped into a pond.  Sinking, too heavy to keep up.  There’s a hollow little thud, and you realize that you’ve banged your skull against the wall again. Your head spins, the world tilting, and you close your eyes, shut them tight against the whirl of it all.

Cloth rustles.  

You open your eyes to meet Geralt’s gaze.  His golden eyes flicker over you like sparks from a forge, pricking against you.  He’s hunkered down in front of you.  The space between the two of you is a chasm, the thin bridge of hard-won affection that crosses it wavering with uncertainty. Through the veil of the wine, you watch his hands flex into fists, knuckles whitening, and then relax again. 

You know he wants to touch you.  Have learned to recognize the hesitation that comes before his fingertip traces across your skin.  He looks small like this, somehow, like a predator caught in a steel trap meant for something else, something bigger.

“What is it?” he asks, each word slow.  You know what it has cost him to string even that simple question together.  

It’s skin cooling against yours; the slack of her mouth; the way her fingers droop even with yours wound between them; it’s the sobbing swelling in you and the way ‘mother’ slips from your lips like a tide; how that tide of ‘mother’ crashes against her empty shore over and over, waves breaking upon the shell of her, like you can call her back and tuck her into her body again because you are still so young and you need the home of her; it’s the way something in you goes cold, cold, cold.  It is all of those things and more, but you cannot find the words, cannot dredge them out of the sludge of wine, and so you don’t.

Instead -

“I saw her face in the mirror,” you tell him.  You curl up like a fern, pull your knees to your chest.   “Her face instead of mine, something hazy and sharp, pieces of her stitched together in my likeness, in my form.  I have her mouth, you know.”

“I know,” Geralt says, and the unusual tenderness in him makes you wild inside, makes something mad in you throw itself against the jagged cliffs that rise high in your chest. There is heat streaking down your cheeks, and you realize that you are crying, tears trickling unsteadily against your skin.

“I want all of her, every piece I can have, want to swallow it down and build her again between my ribs,” you rasp, the words slurring together.  “I want all of her.  Even the pieces that were never mine to begin with.  But I still want to be me, too.  It hurts so terribly.”

Vaguely, you realize that the keening, animal whine that is filling the room is spilling from you.  Geralt’s hands flutter just shy of your skin, like moths circling light.  A sob claws its way out of your throat.  It tears merciless from you, rasps against your throat and slides bitter against your tongue, and then you cannot stop it.  You heave and shake apart into the wine’s tender, sour grasp, its fingers closing around your chest until you are drowning in your own tears.

Geralt does not touch you. You feel the gap between his hovering fingers and your skin like a void, a canyon yawning between you. You want to push into his touch; you’ve grown used to it. In the few months you’ve spent together, it’s become a common thing, the brush of his hand against yours, or the press of your lips against his collarbone. The Witcher has let you peek between the gaps in his shield.  There is something delicate between you, each of you treading careful and slow in new territory.  

“I know,” Geralt says again, but you can see the uncertainty.  “It will pass, as all emotions do.”

Something ugly starts to unwind in you.

“What do you know of emotion, Witcher,” you snarl, the words ripping from somewhere deep inside you, from the feral little creature that’s been curled inside you with its teeth sunk deep, deep, deep, cracking the bones of your ribcage until it aches to take even the shallowest of breaths, “you have none.”

You are drunk, you know, but there is clarity in cruelty. Wine has always given you sharp teeth. And you have always known where to sink them in.

“Grief is just a word to you,” you hiss.  “Just a word, a jumble of letters on a page that you pretend to understand.”

Geralt’s expression doesn’t change, but suddenly - suddenly he is closed off like a shuttered window, wood over delicate glass, solid instead of opaque, a void where the soft light used to spill from him.  

He rises to his feet without a word. He lingers for a moment, stays in place near you, but you cannot find it in you to apologize, can feel the anger and the grief buzzing in you like a wasp’s nest and know you will only continue to sting.

The door clicks shut behind Geralt.

You rest your forehead against your knees and sob.  You can taste the wine where it coats your tongue like oil, sweet and dry and roiling in your stomach.  It will come up soon, you know, will spill from your mouth as bile, dark from the rot it absorbed in you.  

That ugly thing purrs.  It is satisfied now, free from where you’d trapped it when it first gnawed and snarled at the idea of caring for someone new.

Apologize in the morning, you think.  Find words for the terror of letting him close, the terror of gaining someone else to lose.

Beneath the wine’s fog, some part of you whispers that there are things that apologies can’t heal.

You crawl to bed.  

You wake in the morning with stones in your head, rumbling against each other every time you shift.  It’s like a sword beating against a shield.  By the time you stumble down the stairs of the inn, nausea brewing low in your stomach, breakfast is half-done.  You glance around before you settle into a seat with a greasy sausage and a thick hunk of bread.

The bread settles your stomach, just slightly, and you stay seated, your bleary gaze wandering the room.  You idly toy with a small dagger, sharply honed by Geralt’s steady hand, gouging the point into the thick wood of the table.

Finally, you find the courage to ask the innkeeper the question you already know the answer to.  And you are right.

Geralt left in the night.

It’s fine, you think, packing up your saddlebags.  If you unconsciously leave space for the few things Geralt has you carry, it’s not as if he will ever know.  It’s fine, you think again, shouldering one of your bags and stepping out into the empty hallway.

“It’s fine,” you tell yourself as you push coin to the innkeeper, who raises a brow but keeps his mouth shut.

You step out of the inn and into the sunlight.  The road is bustling, merchants with their full carts and children darting about between the houses that line the street. You turn to Geralt to point out the herbalist’s cart, piled high with herbs - you can just see a tuft of white flowers that you know he is running low on - and stop.  You take a deep breath and turn away from the empty space behind you, and orient yourself towards your next destination.  Each step makes something in you rattle.

The crowded main road has never felt so empty.

                                                       ---

taglist: @writingstudent @hina-chans-stuff @1950schick @msgeorgiarae @nonamejustshame @stretchkingblog97 @fairytale07 @alwayshave-faith @sageandberries-png @tutuwho @beautifuluniversityhoagieslime @ayamenimthiriel @bumblingandblooming 

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher fic #angst #does this?? even make sense to anyone but me?? #lmao

[inber]

Geralt is Jaskier's beloved, true, but the bard is not exactly... virginal when they meet.

Jaskier is an ambitious eighteen year old. When he sets off to see the world, all wide sky eyes and naïveté, he lasts exactly three nights on the road before he quite literally wanders into trouble.

They're just starving wargs, two of them, but Jaskier had to take the dark spooky shortcut through the woods because it looked so much more theatrical, but now he's trying to fend them off with a tree branch (because he won't risk his lute, are you mad?) and this isn't how he envisioned his great adventure to end.

Imagine his surprise when a huge iron broadsword takes care of the two pests in one sweep. And his absolute delight upon seeing the wielder of said sword. A real life Witcher! Gods!

He's a babble of thankfulness and gestures and apologises that he doesn't have coin to spare (because he spent it on his current doublet; fashion first, practicalities later) but hey, if the ruggedly handsome man is interested, he has other skills...

And the dark mystery mutant with the beard sneers at that, pauses, and then raises his shoulders in a shrug. He leans against a tree and unbuckles his belt in invitation.

Fuck, it was a good call on the Witcher's part. The bard is young but certainly not inexperienced, and the relief he provides is much needed. He's enthusiastic and determined to fit all of the Witcher down his throat and when he does, the man comes hard with a broken groan, effervescent with pleasure. He hasn't had head that good in a long time.

Jaskier wipes his mouth and stands, all grins, and asks the Witcher's name. Lambert, he's informed, before the burly brute pats him on the shoulder in thanks and is on his way.

Blew a Witcher in the woods, Jaskier thinks, mentally crossing it off his bucket list. And he traipses back to the road, more wary of shortcuts.

Not six months later he's in a tavern, miserably getting pelted with bread, when lo -- his luck changes. A second Witcher? The Gods favoured him, clearly. And this one, oh fuck. This one has a face that makes him all swoony and a voice that draws his breeches two sizes too tight.

But he's no easy conquest. Not even remotely.

Jaskier tries every damn trick he has in his encyclopedia of trickery to charm the man. He flirts and writes songs and buys gifts and follows this Geralt fellow around the entire continent.

Except somewhere along the way it becomes less about conquering a Witcher, and more about loving this one.

When they do finally - finally - fall into bed, Jaskier doesn't even think of Geralt as a belt-notch, or a war he's won (let's face it, purely by attrition). He thinks this is it. This is the man I'll spend my life with.

And he's delighted when Geralt returns the sentiment. He invites him to meet his family. Stay the winter in Kaer Morhen. With teary eyes, he accepts.

So when they do finally push through the keep doors (Jaskier is fucking frozen and exhausted) and Geralt's pack wanders in to inspect the human, imagine his absolute shock when Lambert descends the stairs.

"Ah!" He greets, "The continent's most talented cocksucker! What are you--"

But he's cut off when Geralt tackles him in a rage, intent on protecting Jaskier's honour. It's difficult for the bard to get a word in, what with the punching and kicking and ooh, Lambert isn't afraid to bite, but Vesemir manages to break them up by literally throwing a bucket of ice-water over them like they are squabbling pups.

And oh, Jaskier fidgets, as all the wolves turn to look at him, this is gonna be a fun conversation.

#jaskier headcanon #kaer morhen winter #jaskier x wolves #jaskier x lambert #geraskier #headcanon #drabble #silly musings #fortune writes #witchernonsense

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

So. An request, darling. You're new to court, and it's your first function. You hardly know anyone. You try to become part of the tapestries in the shadow, but Jaskier notices you've not danced once. He takes you under his courtly wing, a gentleman -- right up until some lord scoffs at your unpolished dancing skills, insulting you. Enter feral Jaskier, compelled to defend your honour when he sees the tears in your eyes. ❤

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,526Rating: GTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak a/n: Oh boy do I love me some Feral!Jaskier. Who among us can resist a man who will go from 0 to 100 in our honor? Not I. Hope you enjoy!

As long as you stood perfectly still and didn’t draw attention to yourself, you were safe.

Your dress blended pretty well into the tapestry you crouched by, the reds not exactly the same in shade but enough to help you feel camouflaged. Couples twirled and danced in front of you and you told yourself that this was probably the best way to experience a party. You had the best view and none of the small talk. What more could someone ask for? A dance partner? You’d rather die than betray your horrible lack of experience in courtly practices before this collection of born and bred nobles. You were only there because Jaskier had insisted that he needed at least one interesting person there to talk with between performances and you’d relented. He’d been busy most of the night so far but you were fine with that. He had a way of attracting attention that you usually didn’t mind but nothing about this night was usual. Still, the music was good and the food you’d snuck off the banquet table (your first tactic before you’d found the tapestry was to keep your mouth full at all times so you didn’t have to talk to anyone) was good. As long as you stood perfectly still and didn’t draw attention to yourself, this night would pass without incident.

And then Jaskier saw you.

He’d been searching for you all night, excited to see you at the banquet helping yourself to some of the promised delicacies but you’d somehow disappeared shortly after. As he worked the crowd he could only half-enjoy the applause and praise, seeking out the person whose approval he’d come to value over all others. His eyes glanced are you and he did a doubletake, squinting to make sure that it was your face he saw barely poking out from its shadowy depths. This would never do. He finished the song and gestured for the musicians to continue performing and began to make his way over to you.

You could tell by his determined gait as he made a beeline for you that nothing good would come of whatever came next but you put on a winning smile.

“You have not danced once,” he said, hands propping on his hips as he leveled the accusation at you. Your eyes widened slightly as though you hadn’t realized this.

“Oh? I guess that’s so! Well, they do such a lovely presentation I hate to rob myself of the sight,” you say, your voice just a bit too high and a bit too cloying.

“I believe you’ll find it is even better up close,” he insists and then, oh gods, he holds out his hand. You stare at it and look for something to put in it, but coming up empty, berating yourself for finishing off the cheese cubes you’d brought over.

“Y/N,” he says pointedly.

“Jaskier,” you reply sweetly.

“You aren’t leaving this fete without a dance.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“That is entirely up to you.”

You sigh and he can see genuine distress on your face which softens him a little. Not his resolve, just his tactic.

“Allow me to take you under my courtly wing, I have more than a little experience at these events and it feels a shame not to use that knowledge to help you enjoy it. I won’t throw you in the paths of any stuffy dukes, just you and me and one dance,” he says.

“I know what you’re doing,” you say.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re charming me,” you say, poking his chest in emphasis. He recoils as though you’ve run him through with a sword.

“I am simply trying to ensure that you have a good time. If you find me charming, that’s entirely up to your interpretation,” he says. You open your mouth to respond but the song ends and Jaskier can hear them moving into the next one.

“Right! Here we go!” and he grabs your hand, pulling you onto the edge of the dancefloor, an attempt at a compromise. Once there he holds up one arm and gestures for you to raise yours as well, palms touching.

“Alright, just do everything I do,” he says, as though it’s that simple, as though you won’t need time to see what he’s doing to know how to move your limbs and oh god why does this dance require all four of them in contradictory poses and how does everyone but you seem to know how to do this so easily. You hear chuckling nearby and don’t pay it any attention at first but then you hear someone murmur something a bit more pointed and you look over to see some lord or duke or something smirking at you, whispering loudly to his companion. Your face burns hotly and you try to follow Jaskier but you’re flustered and you when you accidentally kick him in the shins you stop.

“Honestly that happens all the time,” Jaskier says, trying to hide the limp as he moves to pull you back into formation.

“I should go,” you say, working hard to keep the trembling out of your voice.

“Y/N, no, it’s really ok and nobody even cares,” he insists. You scoff and to worsen your embarrassment a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/N, what-”

Jaskier’s words stall as he sees past you at the lord who he sees pointing and laughing at you, doing a cruel pantomime of the steps you’d been trying to complete. You look back up at Jaskier to apologize and insist you’re alright but you swallow the words in shock. Jaskier’s face darkens and his mouth curls up into a feral sneer that he levels at you – no, not at you – past you. Before you can say anything further Jaskier is brushing past you, launching himself at your tormentor like an arrow loosed from a bow, sharp and steady and deeply dangerous.

“Ah Jaskier, you performed splendidly toni-”

The man’s words are halted by Jaskier’s fist, connecting with his jaw and knocking him off balance. Before he can recover Jaskier has seized him by the collar.

“You pompous bastard,” Jaskier bites out as he backs the lord into a nearby column, oblivious and uncaring to the gasps of surprise around him, focused solely on the man in his crosshairs. The man sputters and tries to loosen Jaskier’s grip with his fingers but his attempts are fruitless. Jaskier holds him up against the column and seethes in his face, the normally charming features warped with anger.

“You miserable scrap of offal, how dare you even look at her. You don’t deserve to breathe her air and you dare to mock her? Does it make you feel bigger? Does it make you feel like a man to tear another down? Answer me you worthless degenerate,” Jaskier demands, nearly spitting in the man’s face as he shakes him slightly but his hands are too tightly wound around the collar and the man struggles to breathe much less form words. Unseen arms pull Jaskier away and the man collapses, gasping. Jaskier shrugs off the guard who’s grabbed him and levels a final look at the man on the ground.

“If you ever so much as look at her again I will garrote you with the strings of my lute and charge your widow for a replacement,” Jaskier growls. When he turns he doesn’t see or care about the party staring at him in terror, he only seeks your face.

You’d watched Jaskier’s assault torn between shock and arousal. You weren’t sure what it said about you that watching Jaskier nearly strangle a man to death made you weak but you didn’t have time to examine it because Jaskier sees you and is halfway across the floor to you in an instant. His face is still red and the veins in his neck are still bulging slightly but his eyes are soft and caring, somewhere mid-transformation between the man you knew and the man you didn’t know he could become.

“Y/N I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, taking your hands in his, “Are you alright? We can leave.”

“Well, yes, we do have to leave because I think they’re going to try and arrest you,” you say, pointing to the man who is rising back to his feet, boldened by the crowd that keeps the two of them apart. You pull Jaskier away and hurry towards the doors.

“Are you alright though?” he asks as you make your way back to town through the woods to keep your tracks hidden. You laugh.

“I am,” you say, “And you were right you know.”

He gives you a confused expression as he helps you climb over a log. You can feel your dress snag on something and rip but you don’t like this dress that much anyway.

“These parties really are more exciting than they seem,” you say. He laughs and you join him, voices mingling in the chorus of crickets until you hear hooves and shush each other, still giggling as you continue your escape through the woods, hand in hand.

#witchernonsense #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagines #reader request

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

I might not have asked but please add me to your tag list cause if I miss a fic I'll cry for 2 (two) standard business days. Tyvm ilu

🤣💜You are absolutely on the list, bb.

You are a dear, sweet human ilu2

#witchernonsense #ask answered #ILU FORTUNE DUN CRY

[alphawitchnyxx]

Six Is The Magic Number

A/N: This is filth. 100% pure, unadulterated pornographic garbage. I was bored so I slammed this out super quick, so it’s probably not good and it’s short as hell. Inspired by a post going around that mentioned that Geralt is easily overstimulated because of the mutations. So my brain immediately went to sub!Geralt with dom!Jaskier and lots of orgasms. Also partially inspired by @witchernonsense because her fics are just *chefs kiss* amazing. Filth begins below the cut.

Summary: Not all of Geralt’s mutations make him a better fighter. Some of them make him a better lover, and Jaskier is about to learn just how far his witcher can go before he breaks. 

Warnings: Smut, MxM, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, some light D/S dynamics, slightly dub!con

“Gods, fuck Jaskier,” Geralt moaned, his golden eyes blown black with lust as the bard continued to jack him off. “If you keep doing that I’m not going to last long enough to fuck you.”

“I never said you were going to fuck me,” Jaskier responded. “I want to see how many times I can make you come before you break.” He moved his hand faster until Geralt was spilling over his hand with the first of what Jaskier hoped would be many orgasms. He smiled and added more pressure, earning a low whine from the larger man.

“Gods, Jas, please,” the witcher keened, already overstimulated. His mutations gave him the stamina to keep going for hours but he still got overstimulated quickly if he wasn’t trying to fuck for hours, or days, on end.

Jaskier smiled and continued his ministrations, his other hand moving to fondle Geralt’s balls, his nails gently scratching at the sensitive skin there. “Come on, Ger, I know you can come more than twice. Come for me again, my love.” He squeezed the balls that had been resting in his palm while thumbing at the head of Geralt’s cock, pushing the man into his second release. 

Geralt cried out, squirming below the bard, desperately trying to get away from the hands that were continuing to stroke him. He keened and whined and tried desperately to make Jaskier stop. But the bard was stubborn and soon the overstimulation pushed him into a third orgasm, then a fourth. His lithe fingers never relented, mapping out all of Geralt’s most sensitive spots and making sure to abuse them whole-heartedly until the witcher couldn’t do anything else but shudder through the orgasms.

By the end of the fifth orgasm, Geralt was the definition of a fucked-out mess. His silver hair was soaked in sweat, his whole body glistened with a mixture of sweat from both himself and Jaskier, his seed, and Jaskier’s own release. His whole body was rigid with overstimulation, the muscles taught from resisting. His orgasms were dry and painful, his body convulsing uncontrollably every time.

“Please, Jaskier, fuck, please, I..I can’t...anymore...hurts,” Geralt choked out. His eyes filled with tears as he begged Jaskier to stop this torture. Jaskier smiled devilishly, leaning down. “You can always say your safe word if you need me to stop, my love.” Geralt could always tap out at any time, and Jaskier knew it. “No...I...please...” Geralt keened, not wanting the pleasurable torture to end. Jaskier smiled, placing a soft kiss tothe hollow of Geralt’s neck. “Good. Now, you will come again for me. Make it a nice and even half-dozen for me,” he whispered, gently nibbling on Geralt’s ear. He ran his nails along the overly-sensitive underside of Geralt’s cock and the man came undone, his body spasming as Jaskier milked his sixth orgasm from his spent balls. Geralt finally broke. He cried out, the tears spilling over as he lost control. His hands ripped into the bed sheets as he tried to pull away. He was mumbling incoherently as he tried to get Jaskier off of him. Jaskier climbed off of Geralt gently, grabbing a small cloth and wetting it before carefully cleaning off Geralt’s chest and stomach. Geralt whined under his touch, every nerve in his body on fire. When he finished, he gently curled up behind the witcher, wrapping his arms around him. “You did so well, my love. I’m so proud of you,” he said softly, his fingers gently running through Geralt’s hair. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll try for seven.”

Geralt groaned at the thought, his dick twitching in anticipation despite being fully abused. He pressed his head back against Jaskier’s face, sighing. “You’ll be the death of me, Little Lark,” he sighed as he began to drift off to sleep

Jaskier giggled into his hair. “I love you too,” he said as he joined Geralt in a peaceful slumber. 

#The Witcher #The Witcher fic #Geraskier #Geraskier smut #geralt x jaskier #overstimulation #multiple orgasms #Im sorry #this is filth

[yespolkadotkitty]

Soo back to the Geralt and food diaries: how about Geralt, who’s had a bad hunt, is brooding and not talking, not wanting to eat because his mind is just other places. The reader tries to get him to eat and makes a dish he can’t resist, maybe even spoon feeds him until he can’t resist anymore and gives in and enjoys her mouth watering food. ❤️ since you love the Geralt Food Diaries so much I thought Imd request another one 😊

IT GOT ANGSTY

Roach’s whinny wakes you from your nap, and you sit up to see Geralt coming through the door. He looks wrecked, battered, eyes black from residual potion, his shoulders and back stiff, his mouth a thin, firm line.

You get up from your chair by the fire and cross to him. “Geralt?”

He stands stock still for a moment, looking but not seeing, and then he brushes past you to your bed, unlacing his armour and letting it fall, then laying down on the mattress wordlessly.

“Are you hungry?”

“Hmm.”

This is not good.

You perch on the edge of the bed, stroke back his hair. His eyes are slowly returning to their enchanting amber shade.

“What happened, on the hunt?”

He doesn’t speak for a long time, and you tell yourself to be content with that, just breathing him in, the twinning scents of lemon oil and fresh earth.

Finally he says, staring at the ceiling, “I couldn’t save the child.”

Your heart sinks. Deep inside, Geralt really thought the world needed him, that he could save everyone, everything, fix everything, if only he tried hard enough, gave enough.

And your heart simply bled for him that he couldn’t, and it would never be his fault, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

The world wasn’t kinder to you because you wanted to save it.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmur, laying down beside him, snuggling your head into the hollow of his shoulder, listening to his heart beat. “What happened?”

For a long moment his chest just rises and falls, but then he starts to speak.

“The manticore was in its death throes. I’d partially drowned it, and it was weakening. I didn’t see the child run in after the puppy - fuck, I hadn’t seen the puppy at all. And then when I did see, it was too late.”

His hands ball into fists. “They chased me from the town.”

“Oh, Geralt.”

This was his curse. People needed Witchers more than they would ever know, in their safe, mundane little lives.

“Did they even pay you?” you whisper.

“Didn’t want their coin. I may have killed the manticore, but I also took the life of a child.” He turns on his side, away from you, and your head hits the empty pillow with a soft thunk.

You stare at his back, rigid under the dirty, worn white shirt.

You couldn’t soothe him with words, but you could with food.

You sit up as his breathing evens out. He must have been exhausted and you’d bet good coin that those townsfolk hadn’t fed him.

He softly snores and you glance out of the window to see Roach nibbling at the grass. A soft rain has started to fall.

You set out your mortar and pestle, and get your cutting board and knives. By the time the Witcher wakes, you have his favourite stew on the fire, the aroma of garlic, rosemary, black pepper and partridge meat filling the small space of your home.

Geralt sits up, his face still a study in misery, but he looks a bit brighter.

You scoop three generous ladles of stew into a bowl and carry it to the bed. “Hungry now?”

He grunts, which you take as assent. His face is still set in unhappy lines as you stir the stew. “I made your favourite.”

He sighs deeply, his huge shoulders rising and falling. “Why do you tolerate me in your home?”

You almost drop the bowl in surprise. “What? It’s been two years and you ask me that now?  You mean I could have got rid of you before?”

He doesn’t smile at your teasing, looking away.

“Geralt.” You set the stew down and cup his chin, his stubble tickling your palm pleasantly. “If I did not want you here, believe me, you would not be here. Now, eat.”

Like a little boy or an invalid, he obediently opens his mouth, but when you put the spoon in, he can’t contain a little growl of pleasure.

“It’s good, see?” you prompt.

He chews, swallows, and sighs, some colour coming back into his starkly handsome face. “You’re too good for this world, little wren.”

You smile and feed him more stew, thinking that it’s him that is too pure for this pigshit world, but he will give it his all, anyway.

Tagging people who might like this: @owillofthewisps @princess-of-riviaa @geralt-of-baevia @ly--canthrope @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @radaofrivia @mary-ann84 @chamomilebottom @andahugaroundtheneck @peakygroupie @promptandpros @witchernonsense

@nathyfaith made this awesome fic art for this series!

#geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia x reader #angst #the witcher fic

[itsemmyb]

22-05-20

round two, showing some appreciation to these awesome writers! i meant to post this sooner but tumblr kept deleting it from my drafts. i will admit that i have had a major case of cavill virus recently so...sorry, not sorry.

please note: * indicates smut

the witcher

geralt

on the eve by @laketaj24 - angst and fluff and angst and fluff and ageless exes visiting old girlfriends and making me cry.

here with you by @scarlettwitcher - the sass and the fluff and the mutual pining!

kindness pt 2 by @vivodinson * - (part 1 is on the last list and linked at the beginning of pt 2) y'all i- was this so fucking cute and filthy and i would read a whole ass series if given the opportunity

the thief and the witcher by @brexrif * - whew chile! i need a cold ass shower after that!

constant by @cas-kingdom - we don't have enough dad!geralt in this fandom, thank you for your service. this was absolutely adorable and i'm lov!

things unbearable by @anniesburg * - geralt getting the soft love he deserves. this is so sweet, and soft, and well written. highly appealing to the inner cottage core.

jaskier

untitled fic by @ficsandcatsandficsandcats - ohhh we thicc and we got choices. valdo is a smooth son of a bitch i'll give him that but the pining is where it's at.

geraskier

untitled drabble by @when-a-humble-bard - hair braiding! confessions of love! the purest fluff!

vegas baby by @witchernonsense - it is so geraskier to drunkenly get married in vegas, i can totally see it!

geraskefer

untitled drabble by @dinahdarling - modern day witcher fam! absolute cuteness overload! we love our weird little fam!

marvel

thor

sex pollen by @magnolia-among-the-stars * - 🎶 i think you know where this about to go 🎶 holy shit *fans self* everyone say "thank you grandmaster!"

sam wilson

not slippery enough by @blacktithe7 - sam, samuel, what is you doin, baby? he done fucked up and he needs to fix it.

misc

henry cavill

little spoon!henry by @henchry - we had a whole ass discourse about this in one of my group chats and this headcanon summarizes it perfectly! everyone loves being the little spoon! it makes you feel safe!

captain syverson

double-edged sword by @witcherwritings * - sis i...this was a fuckin ride and it's only been four chapters so far, holy shit! the character development, the feels, the absolutely obscene smut!

napoleon solo

survival by @hnryycvll * - this basically confirms my headcanon that napoleon solo is a freaky bitch and i love it so much!

pastime activities by @toomanystoriessolittletime * - holy shit, this is just pure unadulterated filth and i love it!

walter marshall

fall and i'll catch you by @fishcustardandclintbarton - did you read my mind? this checks every box of my sub!walter headcanon! it's so soft and sweet and my dom side loves it so much.

#emmy's reading list #fic recs #geralt x reader #jaskier x reader #geraskier #henry cavill x reader #the witcher #marvel #thor x reader #thor x reader smut #geralt #jaskier #thor #henry cavill #napoleon solo x reader #syverson x reader #sam wilson x reader #geraskefer #geralt x yennefer x jaskier