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shy-urban-hobbit · 5 months

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Modern au - Vesemir royally screws up by driving Aiden away.

“Aiden.”

“I’m sorry Lambert. Please believe me I am so fucking sorry, but I can’t keep on like this and I’m not going to be the boyfriend who makes you choose between me or your family.”

“So your making the choice for me. Real fucking nice.”

Aiden gave him a sad, teary smile as he threw his duffel bag into the trunk of his beat up, third hand car, “Your family’s everything to you, Pup. Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t regret cutting ties with any of them.”

“You’re family too!”

“It’s been made pretty clear time and again that I’m not and never will be as far as certain people are concerned. I love you Lambert, but there’s only so many times I can take being made to feel like some lowlife criminal every time I interact with your dad.”

Lambert felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth when he realised that he couldn’t even argue that. As he had when he and Lambert had first started dating, Aiden had been upfront about the shit he’d been involved with when he was younger and new to trying to fend for himself after ageing out of the system when the conversation at their first meeting had turned towards questions about his family and childhood. Ever since, Vesemir had taken every opportunity to weaponise it against the younger man - despite the fact that Aiden’s life could very well have been that of any of his own sons had fate played out differently. Lambert, Geralt and Eskel had been some of the lucky ones in the Care Kid Lottery. Aiden, not so much.

Every time, Lambert had asked him to give Vesemir another chance, promising it would be different this time (it had taken him awhile to warm up to Jaskier too, and he was a god damn ray of sunshine) and every time, Vesemir had made him a liar.

Aiden moved his arms awkwardly, looking like he was trying to decide if going in for a hug would be a wise idea until a couple of tears finally fell. He wiped them away hastily as he stepped back, opening the driver’s side door, “Goodbye, Lambert. I wish you every happiness.”

Lambert could only stand and stare as his every happiness drove away down the dirt track.

He heard the front door creak open followed by multiple pairs of footsteps, because of course they couldn’t even let him get his heart stomped on in private – they’d probably all had their noses pressed to the kitchen window. Jaskier was stood shoulder to shoulder with Geralt, looking like he was making a huge effort not to start crying himself while his brother was grim faced. Eskel strode towards him, giving him the same heartbroken look as he had when Lambert was newly seven and had casually informed them he’d never gotten birthday presents before.

“Shit, Lambert.”

He went to pull him into a hug which Lambert immediately ducked away from, “Don’t Esk. Just...fucking don’t .” He pleaded, voice breaking as he stomped back towards the house, jabbing a finger at Vesemir with a snarl as he did so. The old man had yet to react to anything that had just transpired, despite being the cause.

“I am never going to forgive you for this.”

Vesemir sat hunched over in his customary chair by the fireside, elbows resting on his knees as he stared into the tumbler of vodka he’d been nursing as his little granddaughter, Ciri, busied herself making popcorn garlands at the table. It had been over a month and he’d yet to hear anything directly from Lambert no matter how many times he tried to call or how many texts he sent, with any necessary replies being sent to him through either one of his brothers or Jaskier.

He turned when he heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.

Speak of the devil.

Jaskier stood slightly awkwardly, eyes darting between the man and the girl, “Ciri, why don’t you go see how your uncle and dad are doing untangling those lights?” It was flimsy at best but Ciri didn’t seem to notice as she darted off, too caught up in the excitement of Christmas preparations.

Vesemir held the bottle out to Jaskier in a silent offering as he took the chair opposite, “He said he’ll come, but only for Ciri.”

Vesemir sighed through his nose. That was about what he’d expected, “How is he?”

Jaskier bit his lip, “No change really. He still misses him and I...”

Vesemir raised a bushy eyebrow expectantly as he waited for Jaskier to carry on.

“I don’t think that’s going to stop any time soon.”

Vesemir shook his head, “Why does that boy have to be so stubborn? I tried my damn hardest to stop them all from heading down that path and then he goes and throws himself head first.”

“Sir?”

Vesemir downed the rest of his drink, “Do you know how many people see those in the system as easy targets for criminal activity? They purposefully prey on kids who are lonely, desperate for acceptance.”

“Kids like Aiden?”

Vesemir looked up sharply, Jaskier looked for all the world like he hadn’t intended for that to slip out. He took a deep breath before continuing, “With respect, while I think it’s incredibly sweet you’re still looking out for them, Lambert’s a grown man now and Aiden’s had no issues with the law for the last decade or so.”

“That still doesn’t mean he’s good enough for my son!”

Jaskier held up a finger as he started tapping away on his phone, “I remember you thinking the same about me at one point.”

“And what made me change my mind about you?”

“I think the fact that I wasn’t Yennefer turned things in my favour in the end. I don’t know if it’ll change anything but, perhaps you should look at this. Please.”

Lambert took the proffered phone. It was a candid picture of Aiden and Lambert, sometime late in the summer from the looks of it. They were stood in each others arms, smiling softly and looking absolutely besotted, their heads so close together their foreheads were touching and seemingly oblivious to everything else happening around them. Was this how they’d been when he wasn’t around?Vesemir felt his chest clench as he recognised the look in the picture, it was one that had passed between himself and Luka too many times to count before...

Good God, what had he done?

Vesemir knocked smartly on the black painted door for the third time. The apartment building was nicer than he’d expected and he instantly felt shame at his assumption that Aiden would be living in some rat infested hovel. He heard the click of a lock and inwardly winced at the sight that greeted him. Aiden eyes were sunken and puffy, as if he’d been crying himself to sleep before falling victim to insomnia, his clothes were dishevelled and Vesemir found himself wondering when the last time was he’d eaten a proper meal. Nevertheless, he drew his shoulders back and met Vesemir’s eye, even if he did have a death grip on the door knob.

“Jaskier gave me your address. Can we please talk?”

Christmas Eve came around far too quickly as far as Lambert was concerned. He couldn’t deny he was looking forward to seeing his niece and brothers but the thought of long periods of time with Vesemir right now was already mentally exhausting him. He grit his teeth as he threw the last of his things into his overnight bag, it would be fine. It was just two days, and if he needed a distraction God knew Geralt wouldn’t be able to assemble and find correct batteries for all of Ciri’s new toys single handed. It was just two days. He could do this.

Lambert sent up a prayer of thanks that Vesemir wasn’t there when he arrived in the late afternoon, Geralt informing him that he’d just gone out to grab some last minute things and had instructed them to make a start on preparing dinner.

Dark had well and truly fallen, the food was almost ready and Geralt was half threatening Ciri, Jaskier and Eskel with coal in their stockings if they sang ‘grandma got run over by a reindeer ‘ one more time (Lambert might have been partly responsible for that and had zero regrets) when the tell tale beams of car headlights flashed through the kitchen window followed by Vesemir elbowing his way through the door, a neatly wrapped present under each arm.

“Seriously dad?” Geralt sighed, “Ciri’s going to be getting enough from Santa tomorrow without you adding to it.”

“Why should Santa get to spoil my granddaughter? Lambert, there’s one more back in the car. Run and grab it please.”

Lambert rolled his eyes but conceded at Geralt’s ‘Don’t start’ look.

“Happy Christmas, Pup.”

The smallest breath of wind could’ve knocked him over at that moment. Aiden was leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed as he smiled shakily at Lambert, “Vesemir came to see me and we talked. Really talked. He apologised and promised I’m welcome here from now on. If you want me here, that is.”

Lambert all but ran to him before sweeping him up in his arms and into a desperate kiss which Aiden eagerly returned, clinging to him.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, you have no idea how happy I am right now. Mainly because Vesemir was my ride so, kinda would have made for a very awkward Christmas if you’d said no.”

Lambert yanked Aiden’s hood down over his eyes with a laugh, “Dork.”

Jaskier had let out a whoop of delight when Lambert led Aiden into the house, followed by Lambert and Vesemir sharing a brief bear hug in silent apology and the start of forgiveness and when they weren’t eating, Aiden’s hand was firmly wrapped in his.It was perfect.

“Aiden?” Ciri piped up from opposite him, all wide eyed innocence, “Do you know grandma got run over by a reindeer?”

Aiden quickly took in the smothered laugh from Eskel, Geralt’s eyes turned heavenward, and flashed Lambert that impish grin he loved so much, “You know Ciri, I’m not sure I do. Remind me, how does it go?”

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

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wyrm-mlm · 1 year

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Yooooo I just had an idea for a modern Witcher AU that has latched my brain and won’t let go so I gotta just get it out:

Kaer Mohren Animal Hospital

Geralt, Lambert and Eskel all grew up, adopted by Vesemir and somehow all became Veterinarians. Then they decided to open an animal hospital together

Eskel is usually who you see if you bring in a cat or dog, handling the general practice. He’s kind with animals and people alike, sitting with clients as long as it takes to make sure they understand everything.

Lambert takes care of exotics, the weirder the better to him. If Eskel’s schedule is tight he’ll examine a dog or two but he refuses to work with cats. They hate him, he’s sure.

Geralt is usually on the road, tending to livestock. Horses are his favorite of course, and he has some of his own. When he’s at the clinic he will see dogs and cats too.

Yennifer is the lead Tech. She’s hard on her techs but they all know she does it for the good of the animals. She’s not great with clients.

Triss is basically her right hand and takes over if it’s Yen’s day off. She’s great with people and is usually the one to take scheduled euthanasias. It takes a lot out of her but she pretends it doesn’t effect her.

Letho is the muscle, and usually tags along with Geralt to help restraint with larger animals. He tends to intimidate people in the clinic so he’s happy to stay on the road most the time.

Coen is also the muscle but tends to stay at the clinic as he’s better with people. He can get a mastiff on the surgery table with little help. Though it’s catching up to him and he has chronic back pain. He has a hard time asking for help. Yen tends to scold him for that.

Iorveth runs a wildlife rehabilitation center and often brings in things to Lambert. They have to make sure his appointments are on different days from Roche(who helps Foltest with his show and hunting dogs. Basically a glorified assistant.) or the two will argue for hours in the waiting room if they run into each other.

Jaskier fosters animals constantly (he has a big heart and a deep wallet, what can he say?) so he’s commonly bringing in dogs and cats and the occasional exotic to make sure that they are healthy and can be rehomed. He flirts with everyone. All the time. Also a lot of business comes from people who he refers to the clinic.

Aiden is another tech. He has a way with cats that no one else does. Even clients are surprised. A lot of cat owners ask for him by name because of it.

Gaetan is a kennel tech that wants to become a vet some day. He dreams of opening an all cat hospital and roped Aiden into the idea. Lambert thinks they’re crazy.

Vesemir used to be a large animal vet but now works the books for his boys.

Ciri is Geralt’s god child and dreams of becoming a zoo vet some day and spends most of her time not at school at the clinic with Geralt.

That’s all I got for now, may add to it. If anyone has suggestions or head canons let me know. Also PLEASE if this inspires fanart or fanfics tag me.

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labyrinth-runner · 4 months

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Arranged marriage AU starter sentences: Could I request Jaskier x reader with the prompts “I…think I’m in love?” + Don’t cry. I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part.” + “The moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be.” Please and thank you!!!

This is so old but I'm trying to get back into writing fanfic on this site so I figured I'd try to clear out my inbox.

Also, I regret nothing because I would absolutely fuck a bard.

Summary: You're in an arranged marriage with Jaskier and meet him the day of your wedding. Sparks fly.

Word count: ~3800

Pairing: Jaskier x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of domestic violence, NSFW smut.

It wasn't something you wanted. Your father had traded you to settle a debt and quite frankly you were sure your father was the one benefitting the most from the arrangement. It all happened so fast. One moment you were singing in the garden with your mother as you hung up the wash and the next you were engaged to a man you hadn't met and wouldn't meet until you were before the gods and everyone at the altar. You were pissed. Who the hell did that to someone they were supposed to love? Who sold their own child like they were cattle to be easily replaced?

Your mother was against it, and she had pleaded with him to find another way, but your father would have none of it. Apparently it was your job to take care of the family, head of the household be fucking damned. She bought you time. That was all she could do. A week. She bought you a week. A week to make your wedding clothes as was tradition. Part of you wanted to show up in a burlap sack. But that wouldn't have been fair to you. You'd get one wedding, and even if it wasn't for love, you wanted to look beautiful. You wanted whoever your new husband was to know he was marrying an otherworldly beauty that he better not lay a hand on or the gods may smite him.

Your hands hurt. They were covered in pricks from the sewing needle as you put together your dress. It was lace and delicate and white. When you began to work, your mother had pulled out the chest she'd been saving fabric in for you. There were so many scraps and it tugged at your chest at the thought of her putting the collection together over the years for what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. She helped you with the ribbons and even took apart an old pearl necklace your father had given her to help adorn the neckline and bodice. If you weren't pleased with your husband, you were going to be pleased with yourself.

The week passed by in a blink and you found yourself in the woods on your wedding day. Your heart was in your throat. You couldn't do this. You couldn't leave your mother. Who would help her around the house? Who would protect her from father when he had a little too much and lost more than he'd gained?

You wanted to spit at his feet where you stood at the edge of the clearing. He's going to lose more today than he'll ever gain, you vowed. He began to walk forward, but you tried to walk backwards. His hand clamped around your arm so fast.

"Listen, you good for nothing brat, you will go up there. You will pledge yourself to Lord Jaskier. You will pay my debt or I will make your mother pay," your father harshly whispered in your ear. His breath smelled like whiskey and it churned your empty stomach. "Understood?"

You nodded, hot tears pricking your eyes. You clutched the bunch of wildflowers you'd picked along the way in your hand. Turning back to the clearing, you took in the man waiting for you. Lord Jaskier. You finally had a name. He was quite handsome. His hair was slightly long. Enough that you wanted to tug. He wore a red jacket, and his face had a scruffy shadow to it. But it was his eyes that drew you in. The brilliant blue of a sea you'd never seen. His eyes that lit up as soon as they saw you. He held a hand out to you as you walked down the makeshift aisle.

Your heart thudded in your chest as your father shoved you towards him, tripping on a branch. You braced for the ground, but hands were out to catch you. When you straightened, you found that they were attached to your future husband. He was glaring at your father, but his hands were so gentle on you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

A stray tear slipped down your cheek. You couldn't tell if it was because of this whole situation or from relief that he at least didn't seem like a monster.

His brows pinched down as he frowned, reaching up to swipe the tear away with his thumb. "Don’t cry, dear heart. I promise I will love you and protect you to the best of my ability, til death do we part and all that,” he stammered.

"And all that," you echoed.

He smiled at you then, and it was as if the sun had shone down from the sky. He did not let go of your hand as you walked towards the officiant. You didn't know if it was because he was afraid you would bolt or because he genuinely wanted to keep touching you. His thumb rubbed yours throughout the ceremony. When it came time for the hand fasting, he gave your hand an affectionate squeeze. You vowed to love and cherish him and some other things that you'd parroted back, but honestly your head was swimming.

This stranger was your husband. This handsome stranger was your husband. He was going to expect things. Things you hadn't really done or experienced before, but things he looked as if he'd be well versed at. What if he didn't love you? What if he never loved you? As your father had shown you, men would say whatever they needed in order to get what they want. Why would Jaskier be any different?

The reception was joyful and loud. The food was good, but it wasn't memorable.

"Love, are you enjoying yourself?" Jaskier asked, picking apart the chicken on his plate.

You nodded absentmindedly, thinking about a million other things than the party going on around you. His hand reached over to take yours. He raised it to his lips, placing a kiss across your knuckles. "Would you care to dance?"

"Oh I'm really not much of a dancer..."

"Then we can just sway together," he said, smiling softly at you. He stood, pulling you gently up with him. You were guided to the middle of the dancers, letting him lead you through the dance.

“The moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be," he told you, quiet enough that only you could hear as he turned you into his chest.

"In the clearing?" you asked, breathless. He couldn't possibly mean it.

"No, in your garden singing with your mother one afternoon. You were so beautiful and your voice was mesmerizing," his voice was warm and his breath hot against your ear. "I knew then that I needed you in my life."

"And if my father hadn't owed a debt?" you asked, swallowing the dry lump in your throat.

"Then I suppose I would have had to compete with the rest of the men in your village for your heart," he said, spinning you out.

You were dizzy, moreso from his words than the spinning. "Lord Jaskier... what are you saying?"

He pulled you back towards him, running the back of his hand along your cheek, down your neck, further down until his hand settled on your hip.

“I…think I’m in love?”

It was a question. You pulled away from him, feeling cold at the loss of contact. "I think that's enough dancing." You trudged off down a side path, not paying attention to where you were going.

"Wait!" He called after you, following you down the path. "Why are you running?"

"I'm not running."

"You know what I mean."

"Forgive me for not feeling in the mood to celebrate a marriage to a man my father owed a debt. I'm not some prize cattle."

"I never said you were?"

"You can't possibly love me. And you said it like a question. Who admits their love like its a question?"

"I do love you!" He declared, grabbing your hand and stopping you before you walked into the lake. You hadn't noticed it looming in the distance.

"You don't even know me," you murmured, rubbing your arm with your free hand. The forest closed in on you. Birds and insects chirped in the darkness, punctuated by the sound of the water lapping on the shore. The moon reflecting off the lake cast Jaskier in an ethereal glow.

"I'll admit that I know you better than you know me, and I should like to remedy that," he said.

"You-"

He cut you off, listing how you take your tea, the songs you sing when you think no one is around, your favorite flower, "and you love your mother more than anything and protect her from your father."

"And you're taking me away from her! Who will protect her now?" You choked on a sob. His words drew a visceral reaction from you. You felt exposed. Laid bare. Like you stood naked against a man in full armor.

He pulled you close, wrapping you in his arms. "I know, love. I've got someone taking care of it. I need you to trust me."

You nodded into his neck. Then a thought dawned on you. "Jaskier, why do you love me? I didn't even know you existed really until this week. "

"You might as well ask a man why he breathes, love," he said with a chuckle. "I love you because you're you." He kissed your forehead before resting his chin against the top of your head.

This gentle man was your husband. Something in your chest clicked into place. He really did love you. And from what you'd seen from him so far, you did like him. Maybe even love. He protected you. He cared about you. He was incredibly handsome. And now he was singing some elven lullaby softly in your ear and his voice was so soothing. Too soothing. He'd put you to sleep at this rate. You turned to tell him to stop, your lips grazing his cheek. Was he blushing? You smirked. Maybe he wasn't as experienced as you thought? Or maybe he just really liked you? You bit your lip before making a decision. You pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. Then a tentative one to the corner of his mouth. You pulled back, watching him carefully. He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your cheek bone. Then he was leaning closer and you found yourself leaning right back in. His lips were soft and warm. He kissed you carefully at first, as if you'd pull back and change your mind. When you didn't, his hand sank into your hand, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you hard. Your hands fisted in his shirt as you walked him back up against a tree. You sucked on his bottom lip, curious as to how he'd taste. He tasted like fruity wine and he groaned against your mouth. His other hand gripped your hip and you couldn't help it. You wanted more. You were curious as to what he knew and how he could make you feel. You'd heard stories from the other wives about the first night and most had said it was disappointing, but you felt as if he would thrill you.

But, you also knew that he wouldn't push you. You'd have to make him beg so he knew you wanted it and that you were letting him do it. You took his hand and slid it up towards your chest, laying it over your breast before squeezing his hand so he squeezed you. He let out a whine against your lips, squeezing a little harder.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead against yours as he panted hard. He spun you so that your back was against the tree. His lips were desperate, trailing kisses along your jaw, down to your ear where he gently nipped your earlobe, and then down your neck. His breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine. He kneeled before you, his hands resting on your ankles. "Please, love."

"Please what?" you asked, breathless.

His hand tentatively pushed up your dress hem, placing a kiss to your left knee. "Please let me have you. All of you. I will make it worth your while. I will show you stars and sing songs about your beauty. I will worship you as my muse." He kissed a trail up your thigh, your skirt lopsided. You drew a sharp breath as his lips grazed your hip, tilting your head against the rough tree bark.

"All of me?" you asked him, a teasing tone. "My heart isn't so freely given."

"Then let me earn it," he begged.

You looked down at him. His eyes shone in the moonlight and he looked so desperate, his pupils large with more than just lust. You thought back to something your neighborhood friend had said, and decided to be bold. You swung your left leg over his shoulder. "Then earn it."

His eyes widened as he turned his head, his lips making full contact with your thigh. He kissed a trail up, up, up, his left hand pushing your dress up and all the way to the side.

The air was cold against your naked flesh, your nerves suddenly creating a storm in your belly. No man had seen you like this before. And here your husband was looking at you, not as if he'd seen so many before, but as if you were a new, uncharted territory. An enchanted artifact lost to time and just now discovered. He placed a kiss to your hip and continued to kiss across your waist. His eyes the whole time looking up at you, taking in every moment, prepared to stop should you request it. His mouth hovered in front of your sensitive skin and you could feel his hot breath, making you squirm. He placed a tentative kiss above your slit. You sucked in a breath and the bastard smiled. His confidence was growing and he licked along you. The sensation was foreign but not unwelcome. And then his tongue was entering, searching, finding. Your hand slid into his hair, grabbing it hard to pull him closer. He groaned against you, his hands now gripping you hard as he shoved his face against you. He was licking and sucking and you were lost trying to figure out the motions of it all because all you could do was feel. Your head leaned hard against the tree, your hair knotting in the bark as you tried to focus but it was all so new and amazing. Your heart was beating madly in your chest to the point where it felt as though it might burst out against your ribs and you'd die here in this bliss in this man's arms. He devoured you as if no food or drink could satisfy his hunger, only you. It was then that you fully grasped the devotion of this man.

Here he was on his knees.

Here he was taking care of you before asking anything of you in return.

Here he was worshipping you.

Here was your husband.

Here was a man you could love. Who clearly loved you.

Your body began to tremble, your legs weak as you felt like every lick of his tongue and suck of his lips wound something tighter within you. You were leaning more fully on him, and he reached up , throwing your other leg over his shoulder and you let him, knowing it wouldn't hold you up on its own anymore. Your back dug further into the tree, but you didn't care. You bucked against his mouth. Reaching up, you grabbed onto a branch above you.

"J-jaskier!" You gasped, feeling as if you were on the edge of an uncharted cliff. Down below would be darkness. Down below was the unknown. He sucked hard on your clit and you realized you didn't care. Down below was adventure and Jaskier. You threw yourself over that edge, falling, falling, falling and suddenly crashing waves hit you and you realized what it was. Down below was bliss and you were swimming in it. Drowning in it. Gulping it deep down into your throat.

The night air was cold and rough in your lungs as you struggled to catch your breath. Jaskier licked you languidly before placing a gentle kiss to your clit. He pulled back, carefully placing your legs back on the earth. Still, he held onto them, which was probably for the best as you were still very wobbly.

"I think you earned it," you breathed, looking down at him. His hair was positively disheveled from your hands, and the boyish grin he gave you almost made your knees give out on the spot. You joined him on the ground, kneeling before him, remembering the things that were actually supposed to happen on your wedding night and suddenly wanting them to happen very much if you felt like this just from his mouth, his glorious mouth. Your hands fisted the lapels of his jacket, pulling him in for a hot kiss. He tasted like you. That thought clanged through you as you continued to kiss him, pushing his jacked off his shoulders. You slid your hands under his shirt, feeling the strong muscles of his chest.

He pulled back, holding your face in his hands. "We don't have to if you don't want-"

You cut him off with another kiss. "No, I want to, I want to very much." You kissed him rapidly in succession, your lips trailing down his jaw to his neck, nipping his collar bone. He moaned at that, gently pushing you away to pull off his shirt and give you more access. Your lips were greedy, marking every square inch of him you could find, kissing down, down, down to the edge of his pants. There was a visible bulge in his trousers that you were curious about. You'd seen a man's member before, entirely by accident, but this was different. The was your lover. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the ties to his pants, tugging them loose until he was free.

He was glorious. You took it in your hand, stroking the velvety skin. Jaskier hissed, leaning his head down in the grass. A wicked thought crossed your mind. But, he was your husband and you could do with each other as you wished. So you leaned down, taking him in your mouth. Jaskier swore, his hand reflexively settling on your head, just resting there as you moved up and down, sliding your tongue hard against him. You enjoyed how he squirmed, and it made you want to do more, twirling your tongue around the head until Jaskier softly pulled you off. He sat up, sliding his hands up your legs, hiking your skirt up with it until his hands settled on the soft swell of your ass. He gripped you firmly, pulling you forward and into his lap. You placed your hands on his shoulders for balance. You could feel him beneath you, his heat radiating against your core. Looking down at him with a smirk, you decided to tease him, dragging yourself so that the head of his cock slipped just ever so slightly back and forth along your slit. He took the deepest breath.

"It's going to hurt at first," he murmured. "You control the speed and depth."

You nodded. You leaned your forehead against his, exhaling and slowly sinking down onto him. He was a great length, not too long or too short, and just the right thickness to stretch you in a way that felt snug. Still, inch by inch you lowered yourself down, breathing through clenched teeth until you were fully seated on him.

Jaskier kissed you softly. "You are amazing."

You kissed him long and slow as you adjusted, clenching around him to test it out. His hands tightened around your hips.

"Love," he said, his voice strained.

You kissed him, pressing hard against his mouth and began to move. The two of you went slow at first, but then you started to pick up the pace, speeding up every time you found him getting in sync with you. He drilled up into you and you pushed him down into the ground, your hands tightening on his shoulders. You felt that same pressure building within you as he captured your lips with his, kissing you as if you were air and he were drowning. He felt amazing and then he was hitting a new spot as he adjusted your hips and your head was swimming. You couldn't keep up, haphazardly smashing your hips against his as you were pulled back into a sea of bliss, seeing stars behind your eyelids. Jaskier swallowed your strangled cry, holding you close against him. He gasped your name, slowing down until his stilled within you. His chest was sweaty beneath your hands. You rested your cheek against his collar bone as you caught your breath. He gently slid out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before turning on his side to hold you. You were both looking over the vast expanse of the lake, listening to it lap against the shore as you just enjoyed being together.

Jaskier kissed the top of your head. "I wasn't planning to make love to you in the woods," he said. His chuckle rumbled along your spine.

"No, most people don't." you replied, feeling cheeky. You turned to him, resting your head on the inside of his arm. "Is that what we did, make love?"

"Depends. If you felt like love grew from it then yes, otherwise I guess we just fucked." He looked at you expectantly.

You kissed his nose. "I love you."

Jaskier kissed you long and slow, savoring you. "Good, because you're stuck with me." His smirk set your heart aflame.

"I am curious, though..."you said with a grin.

"What about, love?"

"If this was making love then what does it feel like to fuck?"

Jaskier grinned wolfishly. "Oh, you'll find out. Preferably in bed, though, where I don't have sticks pressed into my arse during it."

You shoved him playfully, rolling up to stand. The moon was sinking down towards the horizon. It would be day soon in a few hours. "Where to now, husband?"

Jaskier stood, picking his shirt off the ground. He shook off the leaves before pulling it on over his head. He picked up his jacket and hung it around your shoulders. You hadn't realized you were shivering in the midnight chill. "I think we go home." He offered you his hand and you took it this time without hesitation, letting him lead you towards your new life.

#jaskier #jaskier x reader #sinful sunday #jaskier smut

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tielmamon · 8 months

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Burn, Bonnet Burn (TWN x OFMD AU)

At a tavern near the sea, Jaskier drops his tired self onto a bar stool after finishing his last set. His voice still hurts from belting his heart and anger out when a drunk group of maidens requested he sing 'Burn, Butcher Burn'.

He hoped and prayed he was too far from the main land that the wretched song hadn't found itsway to Skelligan shores. Apparently not far enough.

"Ale and the dinner I was promised, please. Thanks." A second later, he was given a tankard of ale and a bowl of...he's not entirely sure but he assumes it's food

"Good song." Jaskier suppresses a flinch. All he wanted was a nice quiet dinner after that particularly heartwrenching performance. In the middle of his set, he had spotted a burly man, hair so blonde you'd mistake it for white pass by the stage. He knew it wasn't him. He was probably on the other side of the continent, as far away from Jaskier as he could get. Still, his heart never calmed as he finished the rest of his set. No one had a problem with how he was practically sobbing minus the tears by the end of the song. Instead, they relished in it, ate it up like they were watching a pig be slautered for a feast. The applause was louder than usual, his coin purse significantly heavier. It was his best performance yet.

He never wanted to play like that ever again.

"Thank you" He forces a smile and turns to face the stranger, and normally Jaskier isnt one to judge a person's character at first glance, but lets just say the stranger was, infact rather strange.

An older man with wild grey hair to his shoulders, decked in full leather and buckles and, most curious of all...black messy soot around his chin, mouth and eyes. Eyes that stare back at him with a deep sadness he knew all too well. The black and broody nature of it all was too...familiar, too close to home. He could only nod and turn back to his ale, resisting the urge to touch the ache in his chest.

"You seem to know your way around heartbreak well. Someone ripped your heart our recently?" The stranger suprisingly placed a hand on his back as Jaskier promptly inhaled half of his ale into his nose. Despite the embarrassing display, the stranger did not laugh at his expense. Only a stoic, concerned expresssion on his face that just pissed Jaskier off even more.

"And who the fuck are you exactly, my good sir?" He grits through his teeth, wondering just who the fuck posseses the audacity to-

"Blackbeard. Pleased to meet you." -to b-be...the deadliest and most wanted pirate of the seven seas. Oh fuck. He promptly chokes once again, this time on his own spit.

"He-Hello, hi. Gods, really?" The stranger- the infamous Blackbeard offers a small smile and helps him through another coughing fit.

"Easy. Eat your, whatever the fuck that is. I just... wanted to talk." He takes a bite, awkardly. The stew was still a mystery, but thankfully pleasant enough to choke down. An almost shy tension forms between them, which baffled Jaskier. Blackbeard is sitting next to him, very much lacking a beard, covered in soot and looking like he's about to cry into his tankard. And he waits to talk. To...Jaskier?

"What- um, what did you want to talk about?" The older man looks down at his hands. A strange sight, seeing someone so feared look so scared. Then again, Jaskier knew first hand how big hulking figures with bigger reputations have something to hide.

"Your song..." Blackbeard looks at him with determination and a horrifying thought forms in his head. Has the pirate come for Jaskier for information on Geralt and Ciri too? Will he be tied to a chair and beaten once more? Will he be drowned instead of burned this time around?

"What about it?"

"You...why do you write songs like that?" Ed watches the bard blink slowly, practically see the sentences forming in the man's head before he speaks with a sigh.

"Well, when someone as dramatic as myself gets their heart stomped on and ripped to pieces, one tends to seek an outlet for all that frustration and sadness. Writing a heated song about them and burning helps."

"Helps...Does the pain go away? After you sing it?" The pirate fiddles with the handle of his tankard, brows furrowed. Jaskier has the strangest urge to hold the man's hand to sooth him.

"In a way. It turns the sadness into something else for a bit, something more...approachable? Something to hold, to throw, to punch..."

"To burn?" The two share a look before Jaskier chuckles into his mead, nodding.

"Yes. That too." His eyes watch the crowd of strangers in the tavern and spots the blond haired man from before. His features too soft, height too tall. Its not him but it makes his blood boil and heart ache all the same.

"The pain doesn't go away. It just gives you an opportunity to hit back, in a way." Jaskier watches the gears turn in the pirates brain, slowly digesting his words. Silence follows, or atleast the suggestion of it as they sit in a crowded tavern next to an angry ocean. A few more minutes pass and just when Jaskier rises to leave-

"Could you help me write one too?" Ed turns to the bard and pleads. Blackbeard the Pirate wouldn't be caught dead in such a state. Edward Teach, however was desperate. Edward was tired of the pain, the confusion. He needed relief from it, even just for a second. Killing didn't help. Stealing only reminded him more of Bonnet. He was out of options. The only semblace of ease he had felt was when he attempted to write about it, strangely enough.

"You want me...to help you write a song? About heartbreak?" Blackbeard nods solemly, completely fucking serious. Jaskeir being a sucker for a good story and, admitted a chance to help and feel needed replies.

"Fuck it, why not?" Let it be known that Jaskier had a type.

#geraskier #the witcher #jaskier #our flag means death #ofmd #blackbonnet #blackbeard #edward teach #burn butcher burn #they help eachother heal i think #new besties?#jaskier has a type #fanfic

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mochalottie · 27 days

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Masterlist

(Because even though no one asked for one...I wanted to do it to keep my brain entertained)

Avatar (Cameron Movies)

Oel Ngati Kameie (37k+ words) Series about Spider being adopted into the Sully. Post Way of Water.

To protect (2k words) Oneshot about Spider being injured on the SeaDragon.

Baby Mine (6.5k words) 5 times Spider called someone Mom or Dad and one time someone called him Son.

Eywa Provides (23k words) Multi chapter, complete - Feral Na'vi Spider living alone in the forest who is, surprise surprise, adopted by the Sullys.

Our Hearts Beat in the Womb of the World (115k words) Multi chapter, complete - Spider is adopted by Tonowari and Ronal. That's it. That's the fic.

For the Nights and Days of Life (387k words) Multi chapter, complete - All humans leave Pandora after the final battle leaving Spider behind. Oh, and he’s blessed by Eywa. That’s it. That’s the fic.

You Brought light, and new life (78k words) Multi chapter, complete - The comfort fic/sequel that everyone (surprisingly) wanted and I definitely needed.

What am I supposed to do, dance with it? (8k) Oneshot - Spider turns into a tiger. That's it. That's the fic.

Let the Wind Carry Us to the Clouds Multi chapter, ongoing - Aka the ikran racing!au I've snatched up and twisted into my own version, which features some Nocorro but centrics around our boy Spider!

Every Family has Someone Who Falls Multi chapter, ongoing - the time loop au where Spider is thoroughly put through the wringer.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

When You Can't Look on the Brightside, I'll Sit with You in the Dark (63k words) Multi chapter - a Zukka Alice in Wonderland AU where Sokka is Alice and Ozai is the Red King.

If Music is the Food of Love, Play On (4k words) Oneshot - Zuko essentially pining after Sokka in a Modern AU

Final Fantasy XV

Stronger than the Tides (13k words) Oneshot - Mermaid AU for Reverse Big Bang 2023

Blessed be the Boys Time Can't Capture (6k words) Oneshot - heads of families in Eos are vessels for the Greek Gods.

FFXV Song ficlets Series of Oneshots based on songs by Lauv. Includes multiple ships and AUs.

New Dawn (74k words) Multi chapter, complete - Ignis x Male!OC

Star Wars Prequels

Rock You Like a Hurricane Multi chapter, second part abandoned -The Obikin Band AU with Obi-Wan on drums, Anakin with vocals, Rex on Bass and Ahsoka on Guitar

The Mandalorian

Chakaar (22k words) Oneshot - Din Djarin x Male!OC Where a curious thief gets too involved with a grumpy Mandalorian and gains a family in return.

Inheritance Cycle

The World Ahead Multi chapter, incomplete - The Eragon/LOTR crossover that no one seemed to need, but two people very much wanted.

The Witcher

Destiny Changed Series of Oneshots - Jaskier is a Witcher and falls in love for Geralt the Nobleman. That's it, that's the series.

Voltron Legendary Defender

Space Family to the Rescue (1k words) Oneshot - Sick Keith is cared for by his Space Family.

Love is Endless (6k words) Oneshot - Keith pines for Lance in a Modern AU.

(Techni)Colour Vision (60k words) Multi chapter, complete - Klance through many film AUs.

#avatar way of water #avatar the last airbender #final fantasy xv #star wars prequels #the mandalorian #inheritance cycle #toss a coin to your witcher #voltron legendary defender #lottie writes fanfic #writers on tumblr #masterlist

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life-as-a-gamergirl · 9 months

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Lord!Jaskier and Commander!Geralt AU

First encounter

*In the Great Hall of the Pankratz' manor*

Lord Pankratz: "Son, I introduce to you Geralt of Rivia, new commander of the guards as well as your personal escort during your daily activities."

*Enter Geralt: clad in full armor that highlights his strong legs, narrow waist, wide shoulders, with his handsome face, mysterious-looking scars, beautiful golden eyes, luscious white hair. All in all Jaskier's wet dreams come true.*

Jaskier: *whispering to himself* “And hopefully also for the nightly ones because holy shi—”

Geralt: *kneeling in front of them* "My lords, Geralt of Rivia reporting for duty." *turning towards Jaskier* "It is an honour to meet you, Young Lord. I'm at your service."

Jaskier, already coming up with foolproof plans to seduce that God of a man: *horny evil bard-lord noises* "Pleasure's aaaaaall mine, my dear."

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lassieposting · 1 year

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So in NOTW Illyana had three daughters with Lord Zerbst, one of whom had just made her a grandmother before the Sacking of Kaer Morhen. As children of a noble house, those daughters would've married into other noble houses across the Continent.

Anyway AU where she survives to see her youngest daughter marry a Pankratz of Lettenhove.

She survives to see the birth of several grandchildren and even more great-grandchildren, including a brood of Pankratzes.

Everyone in Jaskier's family knows that Great-Grandmama had a tame witcher. It's part of the Family Lore. Jaskier - Julian, back then - spent more time in disgrace at Great-Grandmama's lake house than his better-behaved siblings, and he's fairly sure he actually bumped into the witcher - gods, what was his name? - once or twice; tall and strong, golden-eyed and intimidating. He's only ever known Great-Grandmama as a twinkly-eyed, wizened raisin of a woman who walked with a cane, but her witcher looked young enough to be her grandson himself, no older than Father.

(He's fairly sure he only remembers these chance meetings at all because Great-Grandmama's witcher really had been quite startlingly handsome. Jaskier has always appreciated broad shoulders and toned arms. Perhaps this was something of a formative experience for him.)

She told him once that they'd once been children together, and that her witcher had grown boys of his own, but Jaskier hadn't believed her. No way they were the same age.

They seemed happy, though, despite the age gap. He remembers her giggling like a schoolgirl as her witcher swept her off her feet to lift her into her carriage as though she weighed nothing at all.

(Looking back, and with the advantage of knowing Geralt, the swords the monster hunter carried probably weighed more than she did, by then. She really was terribly old.)

He remembers the roll of letters she kept in her bedside drawer - yes, he was a snoop as a boy, sue him - tied up with a silk ribbon. Remembers the stories she told him when he was small, of brave and heroic monster hunters protecting the innocent from a grisly fate.

He finds himself telling Geralt's family this little nugget of Pankratz family history over an evening of ale, passing on Great-Grandmama's stories. The one about the two young witchers teaming up against a manticore. The one about the big battle at some hidden witcher fortress a long way from Lettenhove - the battle that almost killed her witcher, and would've killed her too had he not sent her away beforehand. The one about the witcher and the elf king.

And when he finishes the story, he realises that his audience has gone very quiet and very still

And they're all staring at Vesemir

#the witcher #the witcher headcanons #netflix witcher #nightmare of the wolf #kaer morons #geraskier #jaskier #vesillyana #anyway jask getting emotional as bards do over the parallels between illy's love story with vesemir and his own love story with geralt #'at least i only had to wait TWENTY years for you to get your head out of your arse and realise i was flirting with you'#vesemir #illyana zerbst #ves has gone as pale as a witcher can go

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fandom-junk-drawer · 3 months

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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 12

Jaskier puased, swallowed, then darted across the door way. He yelped and gibbered as Nerf darts started flying.

Geralt laughed as Jaskier danced around in the door way briefly, trying to dodge the barrage of Nerf darts he was shooting at him. The bard yapped as a few of the darts found their mark.

The guns were custom made. Geralt had f***ed with the mechanisms and now getting shot with one would definitely leave a bruise. And it didn't help that they were both bucka** naked.

They were playing Naked Nerf Gun War because Regular Nerf Gun War was boring, and Yennefer was out with the girls, so why not have a little Swinging D*ck Time ?

Jaskier retaliated. He stuck the Nerf gun out the doorway and blindly fired.

Geralt groaned loudly as one of Jaskier's haphazard shots nailed him in the ribs, adding another bruise to his collection. He ducked down behind the safety of the recliner and heard Jaskier bolt for the stairs. Geralt rolled out from behind his hiding spot...

Jaskier reached the stairs and laid down some last minute cover fire. One of his darts hit Geralt right in the dangly bits. Jaskier froze at the top of the stairs when he heard the strangled noise Geralt made.

"Geralt?" He saw him hunched over, holding his groin. Ooooh...f**k!

"Er, Geralt, are you, uh, alright?" Geralt straightened up, and Jaskier caught a glimpse of the murderous look in his eyes.

Jaskier ran for his life.

"I said no d*ck shots!" Geralt snarled, starting after him.

"I didn't aim for it, I swear-!" Jaskier screamed as Geralt didn't even bother to use the stairs. The Witcher just leaped and hauled himself over the railing.

Jaskier turned and sprayed more cover fire, hoping to slow Geralt down. He heard him grunt as some of the darts hit.

Geralt chased him down the hallway, getting him in the back twice, and almost turned an ankle as Jaskier suddenly changed direction and darted around him.

A Nerf dart hit him in the nads.

Everything stopped. Jaskier and Geralt stared at each other in mute disbelief.

"You little f**ker!"

"I DiDn'T mEAn tOo!" Jaskier screamed as he made a run for it while Geralt was still doubled over. He ran, blindly firing behind himself. There was another pained growl in a very familiar octave.

"Godsd*mmit!"

"Am sOrRy!"

"You're doing it on purpose!"

"AM nOt, I sWeAr!"

Jaskier whipped around the corner and slipped on a t-shirt on the floor. He went down with a surprised shout, landing with a series of thumps.

Geralt came skidding around the corner seconds later and saw Jaskier getting to his hands and knees. He was literally a** up, and Gerlat could not stop himself. He raised his Nerf gun and, with a maniacal crow of triumph, fired.

He got Jaskier right in his a**.

Jaskier was just getting up, knowing Geralt was only seconds behind him, when he heard the pop of the Nerf gun, and felt a very uncomfortable, very abrupt sensation in his nether region.

He's going from horizontal to vertical in a split second, screaming in shock and gripping his a** with both hands.

Geralt is just about laughing himself sick at the way Jaskier has snapped bolt upright to his knees, while holding his backside. But then he sees the look on Jaskier's face. It 's a mix of pain and shock, with a dash of slowly increasing fear.

Geralt *confused*: What?

Jaskier *eyes huge*: My a**...

Geralt: Yeah, I shot you in the a** because you shot me in the d*ck twice, and once in the balls. What about it?"

Jaskier *anxious pained whisper*: The Nerf dart...i-it's in my a**!"

Geralt: F**k...

Yennefer was having coffee with Madeleine and Vespula, enjoying a No Boys Allowed Day, when her phone rang. She heaved an irritated sigh when she saw Jaskier's Caller ID image.

She said a brief prayer to any god that was listening and feeling inclined to be merciful to her today, then answered the phone.

"Y-yEn..?"

A Voice Crack. F**k

"What is it?" Yennefer asked, cautiously. Jaskier's voice sounded very small and anxious. And there was a hint of pain.

"Yen, I...can you -- I know you're out with the girls-- but...can you...cOmE HoMe?"

"What happened, love? Are you alright? Where's Geralt?" Yennefer exchanged worried glances with Madeleine and Vespula. Something was wrong.

Madeleine and Vespula could hear Jaskier hesitantly begin to explain over the phone. They saw Yennefer's expressions go through several emotions. Worry gave way to annoyance, then disbelief, then came mild disgust, which finally turned to amusement.

Yennefer's mouth twisted with the effort of trying not to smile as she asked in disbelief, "You had a what?"

Madeleine and Vespula crowded around Yennefer to better hear the drama.

Yennefer gasped, then slapped a hand over her mouth to cut off the begining of a cackle that was trying to slip out. Her voice shook with the effort of holding in the cackle as she asked, "It wEnT WhErE?!"

A brief pause while Jaskier repeated what he'd said.

Yennefer was fighting for her life when she responded. Jaskier could hear her trying not to burst into outright laughter.

"I'm sorry, my love, but you're on your own for this one."

"But can't you just come and, and...magic it out?"

"I'm going to have to pass..."

"Yennefer, please?"

"Sorry, Jaskier-!"

"But...it's...it's uncomfortable. No-! I know I told you all those stories and about that one time! That was different! How?! What do you mean 'how'? Well for one, it wasn't violently and suddenly shot up my a**!"

"That's what you get for playing with toys that don't have a flared base, Jask!" Vespula interjected.

"Ves!"

"I'm sure it's not the weirdest thing you've put up there," Madeleine added.

Jaskier: *offended bard noises*

"You'll be fine, Starling, " Yennefer assured him, "It's just a foam dart. From a toy gun. Just give it a yank and it'll come right out--!"

"I, um, can't get it..."

"Why not?"

"Geralt, er, Geralt modified the Nerf guns. They shoot really hard now, and it's uh, way up there... and it uh, kind of...hurts..."

Jaskier heard Yennefer gasp.

"Are you f***ing serious, Geralt?! For f**k's sake--! Since you put it up there, you're going to f***ing get it out! Do you hear me?"

"Hmmmmm."

"Don't argue with me! Three times? Well that's what you get for playing games naked! Don't you blame him! You're the one who shot a f****ing Nerf dart up HIS a**!"

"Hm..."

"Don't roll your eyes at me either--! Yes you did, I could HEAR you! You better fix my bard before I get home or you're going to find some of your horse figurines mysteriously gone!"

"Hm!"

Jaskier sighed as Yennefer ended the call. So much for doing things the easy way. He turned to Geralt, a resigned look on his face.

Geralt sighed. "I'll go get a glove."

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jay-arts-t · 1 year

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Modern AU

Jaskier: can I come cuddle?

Geralt: yeah of course.

Jaskier: Lemmie innnnn

Geralt: I love how you ask to come in as if you’re some vampire.

Jaskier: ……………….n-noooooo

Geralt: oh have I revealed your secret Mr Higher Vampire Man?

Jaskier: mmmmmmmmmm

Geralt: Oh no he’s a microwave that’s why he can’t come in. What an enlightening moment.

Jaskier: can I come in now?

Geralt: YES DEAR GODS

#shut up I didn’t realize the original one was fucked up #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #genuine things me and my beloved have said #incorrect witcher quotes #gerlion #dandelion #higher vampire #higher vampire Jaskier

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Note

"Knowing that this is all an act and really knowing it are two different things."

Yenskier! If you feel so moved 🥹🤞🏼

I always feel moved to write Yennskier! Here's a modern with magic AU with mentions of background Yenralt and Geraskier (can be read as pre-OT3)

The ring is perfect, a black pearl surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds, set in a white gold band. It’s exactly the kind of engagement ring that Yennefer would have picked out for herself, if she were the engagement ring type. The fact that Jaskier is the one that bought it—even sizing it perfectly somehow—annoys her to no end.

“Well, that went swimmingly,” Jaskier says, carrying a pile of dishes into the kitchen and dumping them into the sink. “What do you think, my pearl?”

Yennefer looks away from the ring, annoyed to have been caught gazing at it like a dewy-eyed schoolgirl who was just handed her first promise ring. “I think that was the most tedious three hours of my life, and Geralt used to drag me to all your open mic nights.”

“Your wifely support warms my heart.” He puts a hand to his chest. The wedding band he selected for himself is just as perfect for him, with a sapphire as big as his thumbnail. He’s probably going to put his eye out with that thing. “But I think they all bought us as a married couple, don’t you think?”

“Well, they haven’t tried to kill us yet.” Yennefer pours the last of the bottle of wine into her glass and leans against the counter, watching as Jaskier puts his ring on the counter and begins to scrub at the dishes.

“The Turners were a bit overly interested in where we’re from and who our families are,” Jaskier says. “But I think they may just be snobs, not necessarily thinking about sacrificing us to any forest gods.”

“Mrs. Paine was very interested in you.”

“Again, I think she may just be very bored in her marriage, not necessarily homicidal.”

“It’s possible to be both.”

“You speak with such experience.” Jaskier looks over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. “I promise you, my dove, marriage to be will be many things, but never boring.”

"We're not married."

“Yes, I know that.” He waves one sudsy hand. “But if we’re going to be doing this for Melitele knows how long, we may as well lean into it.”

Yennefer snorts. She would much rather have gone through this charade with Geralt, but her lover is on the other side of the Continent right now, pursuing another lead. So she’s stuck here with his other lover, investigating the suburbanites who may or may not be trying to harness the power of an ancient forest god. Which she could forgive, if they weren’t so insufferably dull about their potential apocalyptic plans.

“Lean into it?” she asks. “By going to play badminton with Mr. Paine tomorrow? Do you think their forest god is going to be at the country club?”

“I would hope not. Those clawed feet would probably be murder on the golf courses.” Jaskier chortles at his own joke. “I’m trying to get to know the people we’re supposed to be investigating. That’s why we’re here, remember?”

“Just don’t end up tied to any altars.”

��Worried about me, my sun?” He turns to bat his eyelashes at her.

“I just don’t feel like saving your ass tomorrow morning. I have yoga.”

“Well, you don’t have to save my ass. You own enough black clothing; you’ll be a convincing widow.”

“If you die, I’ll have to go to the Brewsters’ potluck alone and I don’t think I’ll make it through the night without turning someone into a hedge.” Plus, she promised Geralt that she would keep Jaskier safe. She tries to keep her promises to Geralt, even if it means not letting his idiot boyfriend get himself killed.

“The Brewsters actually seem perfectly lovely, so we can’t have that.” Jaskier is quiet for a moment, concentrating on scrubbing a tricky spot. His back is turned to her, but she can picture his tongue poking out of his mouth like it always does when he’s focused. “After I get home from badminton, I was thinking we could go look at paint colors.”

“For what?”

“The bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Well, you’ve only mentioned how tacky you find the green and pink seventeen times this week. I thought you might be bored of complaining about the same thing.”

“This isn’t really our house,” Yennefer reminds him. “The owners will remember it eventually and when they get back from their winter in Toussaint, they’ll wonder why their bedroom is a different color.”

“I’m sure you can just waggle your fingers and turn it back.” Jaskier waggles his fingers to demonstrate. “But we’re probably going to be here for a while, so you should like our bedroom.”

“It’s not really ours.”

“Right now, it is. Anyway, it could be a fun project for us next weekend.”

“When we’re not investigating the murderous cult?” Yennefer asks acidly, staring at the back of Jaskier’s head in disbelief. Of course Jaskier would settle into this suburban life so nicely; this is how he grew up. He has a pair of doting parents, four sisters, a gaggle of nieces and nephews. He grew up surrounded by this kind of mundanity, going to barbecues on weekends and watching his parents debate swatches of paint.

Yennefer has never been meant for this life. She went from a pigsty to Aretuza to the Aedirnian government. If her parents ever got invited to barbecues and games of badminton—unlikely, given that her stepfather was the town drunk—they never brought her along.

Not that Yennefer has any kind of interest in this type of domesticity. If she were to ever settle down, it wouldn’t be in a cul de sac of cookie cutter houses, identical save for the six different colors the HOA allows them to paint their doors. She wouldn’t spend her evenings hosting dinner parties for the dullest people she’s ever met. She wouldn’t be cohabiting with Jaskier, of all people.

Jaskier is talking, she realizes, though whatever he’s saying doesn’t seem to require her participation. As he waves his hand to emphasize his point, soap bubbles fly everywhere without him even seeming to notice. A splash of water comes perilously close to his ring, which lies forgotten on the counter. Yennefer picks it up to relocate it to a safer spot.

“Anyway,” Jaskier is saying. “I’m not a sorceress who can look into their minds or a witcher who can fight their forest god. The best thing I can do is casually bring up the local disappearances while I play badminton with Mr. Paine and make a mean brisket.”

“That was a decent brisket,” Yennefer admits grudgingly.

“Wasn’t it?” Jaskier turns to grin at her again. There’s a bubble of soap suds clinging to the tip of his nose. The sight makes her feel an unexpected, entirely irrational surge of fondness. She thinks about closing the distance between them to swipe it away. Instead, she grips the edge of the counter.

“Just don’t get attached,” she says. “These people aren’t your friends. At least one of them is a killer and given the number of disappearances, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the neighborhood is either in on it or knows what’s going on and is looking in the other direction because they’d rather focus on having the nicest hydrangeas on the block.”

His grin fades into a soft, almost sad little smile. “Don’t worry, Yenn, you don’t have to worry about me getting attached. I did theater in college. I know how to put on an act.”

Yennefer isn’t sure why that bothers her. It’s good that he’s consciously putting on an act; it’s what they’re here for. “Geralt dragged me to your plays too. They were terrible.”

That gets the expected offended noise from him. “It’s a good thing you’re not masquerading as a theater critic, Yennefer, because no one can accuse you of having good taste.”

“And it’s a good thing you’re not masquerading as an actor.”

“I want a divorce.”

“We’re not married.”

“Then I want a fake divorce.”

“Mr. Paine’s a divorce attorney, isn’t he? Bring it up with him tomorrow.” Yennefer realizes she’s still holding Jaskier’s ring, the absurdly large sapphire glittering in her palm, and sets it aside. “I’m going to go upstairs.”

“Fine.” He lets out a long sigh. “Leave me to my toils.”

Yennefer rolls her eyes and mutters a spell. A moment later, the dishes are stacked neatly in the dish drainer, all perfectly clean.

Jaskier turns to look at her incredulously. “You couldn’t have done that ten minutes ago?”

“A little manual labor is good for you.”

“Just for that, I’m painting the bedroom orange.”

“Still won’t be the tackiest thing in this house.” Pointedly, she looks over his outfit, eliciting another squawk of protest.

Smirking, she heads up the stairs to the master bedroom, stepping around the pile of bedding on the floor where Jaskier has been sleeping. Even though the room’s horrendous pink and green color scheme is nothing that Yennefer would choose for herself, the room is filled with the trappings of the life she and Jaskier are sharing here: a guitar leaning against the wall, a sweater discarded on the bed, the fake wedding photo Ciri photoshopped for them sitting on the dresser.

Yennefer’s eyes linger on the photo. Ciri is a talented kid; only the most eagle-eyed observer would notice that Yennefer’s skin tone isn’t an exact match of the bride in the elegant lace dress. The false Jaskier stands behind the false Yennefer, arms around her waist, eyes twinkling with love and joy as he holds her close. Yennefer is fairly sure Ciri took his face from a photo of him with Geralt.

They talked about their wedding earlier, the stunning destination wedding to Skellige where Jaskier cried when he saw Yennefer walking down the aisle. They talked about their first meeting at the coffee shop where Jaskier used to work. They talked about Jaskier proposing in that same coffee shop two years later. It was the story of a happy, normal couple, and it was all entirely bullshit.

Yennefer sighs and twists off the perfect engagement ring, dropping it on her ring holder, before she goes to take off the seafoam green sundress she borrowed from Triss.

This is all an act, she tells herself. She just hopes that Jaskier doesn’t forget that.

***

Fake dating prompts

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #yennskier #jaskier x yennefer #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #ghost's writing #prompt fills #beating back the plot bunny for a 10k version of this with a stick

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