Hello! Thank you so much for what you do- could I please have some recs for geraskier fics where geralt is the one pining harder?
Here you go!! I wasn't sure how to categorize who was pining harder in all of these (since our boys are masters of longing lol) but these are all stories where Geralt loves Jaskier very much, and I highly enjoyed them all!
~
favorite by @asweetprologue
(Rated G, 5.8k)
Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out.
i’ll kiss you slow by @paintedcrayons
(Rated T, 4.9k)
Geralt is not being creepy. He’s not. He’s just looking out for his friend (with a questionable choices in lovers).
Lately, Geralt has started to notice the way people treat Jaskier’s affection like a means to an end. They kiss him only to move to the next step, dance with him as pretense to get him into their beds.
He would like nothing more than to kiss Jaskier for the sake of it.
(He does.)
time and time again by @samstree
(Rated G, 5.2k)
Marriage proposals, through the years.
The Best Laid Plans by @dhwty-writes
(Rated T, 5.5k)
Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.
A Friend in the Wild by @samstree
(Rated G, 1.6k)
In which Geralt acquires a tiny friend who wouldn't stop following him.
Weak and Wanting by @sociallyawkward--fics
(Rated T, 36k)
Geralt had thought that inviting Jaskier to Kaer Morhen after all these years would be a good thing. What he didn't plan on was his brothers deciding to have a little fun with their situation. Lambert and Eskel really needed to stop meddling in things they didn't understand, especially when it came to his bard.
Tell It With Your Heart by @bambirex
(Rated G, 2.5k)
While Jaskier always says what's on his mind, Geralt works a little differently. That doesn't mean he cannot tell Jaskier how he feels - he just does that without words.
Repeat After Me by @onwardorange
(Rated G, 7.3k)
All it takes is (nearly) three years, two meddlesome brothers, and one exasperated sorceress to get Geralt to admit his feelings for Jaskier.
Love Me Better, Send A Letter by @rebrandedbard
(Rated T, 12.5k)
Geralt and Julian have been exchanging letters since participating in an inter-school pen pal program in high school, and Geralt has been pining away for Julian for over a decade since meeting by chance one faithful day in Posada. Between work and Ciri, he hasn't had much time for travelling, but he and Julian still exchange their letters faithfully. Finally, Julian's equally busy life coincides with Geralt's long enough for a short visit, and Geralt has the chance to finally introduce Ciri to the man she knows only on paper. Things would be perfect ... if Julian's visit didn't fall within the week of the concert of Ciri's favorite musician, Jaskier.
Music is no solution by @thecrownprincessbride
(Rated T, 4.3k)
Jaskier has self-doubts, and Geralt is there for him.
A Careless Omission by @samstree
(Rated T, 5.4k)
Jaskier reveals he has a type. Geralt behaves strangely.
Highway Angel (To the Dark I Said Pour and Forgot to Say When) by @fangirleaconmigo
T, 2.8k
Geralt is a long haul truck driver. With long stretches on the road away from his family, and with no one to keep him company but his loyal dog Roach, he has to brave most of his life completely alone. Then one day, just as he is passing the city of Oxenfurt, he turns on the radio and hears a voice.
zero for ten by @yaelathewordsmith
(Rated T, 10.4k)
The blue-eyed boy on the school's cricket team seems determined to bowl Geralt out.
The worst part is, he isn't even fucking trying.
*
Or, the ten times Jaskier held Geralt's heart in his hands without knowing, and how Geralt grew to want him to keep it.
~
(You can find my other reclists here!)
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He sees her last. After the blood and the gloom and the despair that plagued his sight, after the death and the wails and the pleas that teared at his chest, he sees her last.
Chaos, he thinks, has never looked more serene.
In another place, at another time, it would be beautiful.
Now Yennefer meets his eyes from across the hall and a sudden jolt shakes her whole and she runs, gods, she runs to him with such helplessness and relief that he knows he will welcome the most bruising hug, if it means it will keep her afloat. There is a weeping beauty in sadness, but not for her eyes. Never for her eyes.
As she buries her head in his shoulder, he feels her heart digging a hole in his chest. He holds her tight.
"Thank the gods," she whispers, as though to herself, "thank the gods you're alive."
In another place, at another time, he would make a joke, perhaps about the feeling not being mutual, just to steal a smile and a banter from her lips.
But he has no heart for that now. Not even for that.
He only has a chain clenched tight around his heart and gutting his voice in shame every time he opens his mouth to speak. "Yennefer, I–"
At once, she looks at him. "No words." As though she knows what he would say, as though she knows all he hasn't done, and mourns him anyway. She shakes her head, eyes huge and dark and pleading. "You can't stay here, it's dangerous. You have to go. You have to find Geralt."
"Yennefer, Yen– I know." His fingers dig into her arms and he can't bear to loosen his hold, he can't bear to let her go. Not yet. He smiles, soft. Leans to search for her eyes, for just a moment of peace in their turbulent current. "I just wanted to see my darling witch."
Yennefer stares at him for a moment, shoulders tense. Then, she huffs a laugh. Her expression softens, almost crumbles.
He feels her hands shaking where she holds him and the corners of her lips tremble as though with all the unspoken screams of the sea trapped into a single shell, wailing and weeping and waiting to be heard. He only wishes he had time to put her heart to his ear.
Her voice is quivering as she speaks. "I don't know where Ciri is," she says and it sounds like the complaint of a mother and a child crushed into one, like the world's cruelest crime, the earth's deepest regret, choked in swallowed tears. "I don't know where she is, I don't–"
She doesn't let her face break, as if she knows that when the bottle cracks, there will be no end or beginning, as if she knows he will only have to stay there, and hold her through it. And he cannot stay here between death's teeth.
She can't afford this too.
But he knows terror when he sees it in her eyes, for it is not frequent, and floods them with a different kind of darkness. It breaks his heart.
She looks at him for a moment deeply, in thought. Then she lets out a sharp breath. Quiet, exhausted. "Gods, Jaskier. I'm losing everything all over again. And then," she nods at him from tip to toe and laughs again, as though she finds it absurd, "here you are. Here you always are."
Maybe it sounds painful, because she winces.
Maybe she cannot bear looking at him, maybe in hope it will hurt less if she loses him. But Jaskier doesn't abandon her eyes, only stays there, because their violet melts just like then, just like that other time she was all bereft and scared and he got to see it, and knew. Yet again, a familiar kind of despair.
But, gods. What else could one make out of shared pain, except for love?
A tear flows down her cheek, and he wipes it away with his thumb before it shatters. He holds her face. "Hey. You are not in this fight alone." He swallows, voice thick, hand firm as though to caress the love on her skin and right into her. "Not anymore."
Oh, she has been alone for so long. So long that her first instinct is to disbelieve him, doubt him, squint. But it is only for a moment.
Because his thumb is still stroking her cheek clean of stray tears and her brows can only twitch in desperate acceptance as she slowly covers his hand with hers and leans into his touch, closes her eyes. Presses on, as though to memorize the shape of his palm when it's missing, as though asking of him to remember her shape.
Jaskier can't hear her, but feels her own voice in his head as he prays they don't become no more than a memory.
"We'll meet again." She looks at him again and now her voice is steadier.
It makes him smile. He will miss this. Offering a hand for her to lean into every now and then. Watching as she rises again, indelible.
A chuckle, as the curtain threatens to rise. "Eh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Besides," he speaks softer now, like a lullaby, like a confession, "I could never be done with the likes of you, Yennefer of Vengerberg."
A promise.
And Yennefer smiles, through the tears, and shakes her head. How strange, how comforting. To fight so hard for a purpose, and to know the purpose is willing, at last, to fight back for you.
With a deep sigh, she raises her head. And there she is again. Solid, seething, like a burning hill. "Don't leave Geralt alone."
"You know I won't." Then, pleading. "Be strong."
He knows she will be. It's mostly to remind himself.
Slowly, their hands drop away, and he hopes the warmth of her touch lingers on his hand for a while.
"Be brave," she replies, but she knows too. "I won't be there to save you this time." Jaskier huffs, mostly to hold back tears. "Well, then," she continues, and her voice is suddenly strained in a half-laugh, half-sob, an attempt perhaps, to seal the promise back. "Goodbye. Good luck–"
Only, she can't.
Her voice dies in her throat, and she presses her lips together, in refusal, in grief. Her eyes are wet again.
Jaskier lets out a silent gasp and shakes his head, pulling her close one last time, tighter than before. This is too much. He can't ask for too much. So he only lets her steal some breaths from his chest before he lets her go, and places a kiss on her head.
He feels her holding her breath, or his, as she pulls back and silently looks at him one last time.
And then, like a cord snapping in two, she turns around and walks outside the room. She doesn't look back.
And Jaskier watches numb. Her form disappears behind the walls and he stands wrecked, a sob threatening to rip his throat apart.
Broken, trembling, he smiles at her remaining memory, and decides to seal her promise himself. "Good riddance."
His voice echoes back to him in the empty hall.
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