#Valdo x Reader

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Lyutsifer Safin X Fem!Reader Fluffy prompt with a sad ending

!TW: Mention of explosion, mild violence, mention of being wounded!

Safin had gotten an idea, and he smirked to himself, before he ordered his workers out of the laboratory. Safin then sent for you, acting as if he wanted to show you something, but as he did, he secretly locked the laboratory door, before he wrapped his arms around your waist. “What do you think of it, angel?” Safin inquired, and you shrugged.

“I - I just don’t like to think that it would have been used to kill all of those innocent people,” you murmured, and Safin frowned, but shrugged your response off. You then turned to face him, and he smiled softly at you. “Can - Can we go back upstairs, now?” You requested, and Safin nodded, following you to the glass doors of the laboratory. Safin tried not to chuckle when you attempted to push open the doors, but they wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” You mumbled, looking back at Safin.

“The workers must have-” Safin gently pressed you against the doors, “locked us in accidentally.”

You tried to ignore his action, fighting the urge to bite your lip. “When will they come back?” You asked, and Safin pretended to think about it.

“They’ll have to return in the morning,” he answered, “it looks like we’ll be trapped for a while.”

You hesitantly eased him off of you when he made to kiss you, disappointing him as he frowned, a pained expression on his face. “Safin-”

“Don’t be afraid, angel,” he interrupted gently, before he tried again, pressing his lips against your’s delicately.

𖧷☭𖤍

Safin had heard that you were downstairs when there was an explosion, and he panicked, running down as fast as he could; he was afraid that he’d lost you. “Mr. Safin!” Valdo cried, and winced when Safin pushed him against the wall of the laboratory.

“Where is she!?” Safin demanded, looking around as he was desperate to find you, but Valdo didn’t have to answer, as a group of the workers carried you out of the wreckage. “Y/n,” Safin whispered shakily, a pained expression on his face as he rushed up to the group. “Is - Is she okay?” Safin inquired, his voice full of hope.

“She needs to be treated, sir,” one of the workers answered, “but she is still breathing.”

Safin expressed relief, lowering his head slightly. “I’ll carry her upstairs,” he stated, “one of you get the doctor, now!” Safin carefully took you from them, before he rushed you upstairs to his and your bedroom so he could lay you down comfortably.

↯

Safin hadn’t left your side since you’d been wounded in the explosion, and he didn’t intend to let anyone call him away from you. Safin had his face buried into his hands when you began to wake up, looking around the room, before you focussed your attention on him. “Safin,” you managed to speak, though your voice was slightly weaker after the accident.

Safin, upon hearing your voice, lowered his hands slowly. “Y/n,” he whispered, his eyes lighting up; he’d begun to think that you’d never wake up. Safin leaned closer to you, wrapping his arms around you carefully as he didn’t want to hurt you. “I almost lost you,” he mused, his voice trembling.

You shook your head, lifting your hand to stroke his hair to comfort him. “You’ll never lose me, Safin,” you promised, “I’ll never let anyone or anything take me away from you.”

Safin tried to believe you, but he found it difficult after the explosion. “Wanna bet?” Safin murmured, a pained expression on his face.

You frowned, relocating your hand to his left cheek. “Safin,” you responded gently, “just - please try and believe me.” Safin sighed shakily, before he nodded, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

So i know how you love writing for Valdo Marx, and I'm fond of him now as well, and not just cuz he's basically robert sheehan.... anyway...hahaha! how bout a plus size reader x jaskier, either already together or not up to you, and then Valdo is there somewhere. And maybe a bit of feral!jaskier! Thank you as always dear heart hope you're well! 💙💚💙

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x Plus Size ReaderWord Count: 2,941Rating: TTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @kemmastan @mycat-is-mylove @amirahiddleston a/n: Hello dearest. This went in a direction I was not expecting. I hope that you’re ok with how it went. I had fun writing it and hopefully reading it will be enjoyable too.

“Take me through this plan one more time,” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a very simple plan, Geralt. I’m going to escort Y/N to the dance tonight as her wingman, no one we find will be good enough for her because no one on this earth is, I will dance and sing to her and woo her and by the end of the night I will give my big speech about no one being worthy of her but I love her deeply and truly and will spend the rest of my life endeavoring to prove it and she will fall into my arms and the rest is none of your business you cheeky devil,” Jaskier recited. His head was tilted back against the window he perched on, pale blue eyes gazing at the ceiling as if he were watching the scene play out.

“What if she finds someone she fancies,” Geralt asked.

“What?”

Geralt didn’t repeat himself, he just leveled Jaskier with a Look. Jaskier thought over Geralt’s words for a moment, apparently not considering this possible flaw in his plan before now, and then shook his head.

“No, Geralt, don’t be silly. We’ve been traveling with Y/N for months now and no one has even so much as caught her attention a little bit. That’s certainly not going to change now.”

—–

You had to make a change and you had to do it now.

You’d spent months pining after Jaskier, unable to summon the courage to tell him and finding no signs of interest from him. You knew that you could try and force yourself to share those feelings and potentially ruin the friendship, or you could try and move on. The dance seemed the perfect chance and when Jaskier volunteered to help find you a match, well, that was all the answer you needed. You usually dressed to blend in, years of training put into hiding your body or minimizing yourself in any way you could. Tonight, you chose to stand out. First because if you were going to find a new partner you would not waste your time on someone who didn’t see and want all of you. Second because you were feeling a little bold and excited by your choice to pursue someone. The benefit of traveling was that if things went horribly wrong you could just leave the next morning and never return. You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but the knowledge it could helped bolster your courage. It was gratifying when you saw Jaskier go speechless, mouth agape and sky-blue eyes wider than you’d ever seen them, as you stepped out in the vibrant, emerald green dress. Your hair was plaited back in a simple but attractive way, framing your face in a way that enhanced your looks but did not try to hide its roundness.

“This’ll do then?” you asked teasingly as Jaskier stared at you until Geralt finally thwacked him in the arm to help bring him back to his senses.

“You look absolutely… Geralt I’ve forgotten words oh gods they are my whole livelihood…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you laughed, blushing a little under his gaze.

“If you don’t take her arm I will,” Geralt hissed to Jaskier, eager to get the evening underway and over with. That snapped Jaskier out of it and he nearly leapt across the room to your side, taking your hand with unparalleled reverence.

“Here’s hoping someone else at court feels the same,” you said. Geralt watched Jaskier’s face freeze, a glimmer of fierce panic in his eyes before he recovered and offered you a smile.

This would be a long night.

—–

Valdo Marx had come to the ball for one reason and one reason alone – spite.

True he had been one of the first to receive an invitation but it was to attend, not perform, a slight he would not forget or forgive anytime soon. He had come to drink their wine and eat their food and scoff at their doubtless subpar performers. He hadn’t come with carousing in mind though he saw flickers of interest in the eyes of many he passed. He couldn’t blame them. He was aware of his effect on people, especially when he looked as resplendent as he did tonight in his black and burgundy attire. His curls were artfully disheveled and he’d smeared just a bit of kohl around his eyes to further emphasize them, not that they needed it. He’d trimmed his mustache and goatee and applied a tasteful amount of patchouli cologne to his neck and wrists. Still, it was all for himself and to know that he had appeared and provided the quality appearance that one could expect from Valdo Marx, even if all he had planned was some smirking and sipping of wine.

And then he saw you.

Valdo’s plans immediately pivoted. He moved from his haughty lounging to standing straight up, pressing out the wrinkles in his doublet and then setting down his goblet as he made his way to you. His eyes never strayed though yours surveyed the hall and he was vaguely aware that you were talking to someone. He didn’t look at their face, briefly taking in the quality cut of their black and cerulean lined attire with an appreciative glance, but when his eyes flicked back to your face it was inclined by the other and he stopped walking.

Jaskier.

Of course fucking Jaskier de Lettenhove, golden boy of Redania, would walk in with the loveliest creature tonight. No matter, Valdo told himself, taking up the chase again even as Jaskier led you onto the dancefloor. You may have arrived with Jaskier, but you would be leaving with him.

—–

“Jaskier if I dance with you all night I won’t find anyone,” you protested, though a traitorous part of yourself that wasn’t as easily swayed loved the feeling of his hand in yours and the way the oceanic eyes never left your face as he led you around the dancefloor.

“You’re right,” Jaskier said, though he kept a tight grip on your hand, “After this dance as ended I shall seek out some good company for you.”

You forced a smile. You’d secretly hoped he may say no, that he wanted to be your only dance partner, but you knew this was just a fantasy and if he really did do it you’d rankle at the unearned possessiveness. Still, you were a simple woman, and you wanted to feel wanted even if just for a moment. After the dance Jaskier did as promised, guiding you off of the floor and setting you up with a goblet of wine before heading out into the fray where he would circle a few times and then return to you. He would take the opportunity to check on Geralt who was where he usually sat during parties, alone and as far away from others as he could with refreshments.

You watched Jaskier’s retreating back and tried not to pout as you worked at finding that vigor you had earlier to find someone.

“It is too early for you to be here,” a voice in an accent you couldn’t immediately placed said. You turned to see a man standing nearby, leaning his long frame against a column and smiling at you with eyes that matched your gown.

“Pardon?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat as his mouth curled into a smile.

“Persephone is supposed to stay with Hades until spring, but here we still have a whole winter’s month left and yet you stand before us,” he replied in a voice that was so low it was nearly a purr. He spoke the words quietly as though it were a secret. As though he truly had spied a goddess out of place and was trying to coax her back before the other mortals caught on. You laughed and moved closer.

“Let me guess, you fancy yourself Hades?” you teased, the courage you’d lost coming back to you.

“Alas it seems I do not have that honor. But I shall let you cast me in the roll you see fit for me to play,” he answered smoothly. You stared at him thoughtfully as the bottle green eyes boldly, but not lecherously, swept the length of your body. You felt seen by this man in a way you hadn’t in some time. It scared you. You liked it.

“Eros,” you replied. He laughed, caught off-guard but delighted by your response.

“Indeed?” he said, “Oh you must tell me your justification.”

“You look the sort to tempt maidens in all kinds of trouble,” you answered, taking a sip of wine. His eyes fell to you lips as you licked a drop from the rim of the goblet and you knew he was wondering how the wine would taste if he kissed it from your lips.

“Tempting makes it sound like there’s some sort of coercion. I guarantee every maiden I’ve met was an eager devotee of my temple, love,” he replied, raising a hand using his slender, soft fingers to brush a lock of hair out of your face. He glanced up, something catching his attention, and his lovely features grew a little bit fiercer and more wicked and fool that you were, you only found yourself more enticed.

—–

“Geralt you were worried about nothing,” Jaskier insisted, though he addressed himself more than his friend who stared ahead with an expression that was a cross between bemusement and foreboding.

“Indeed,” Geralt said.

“Yes! We have had some lovely danced together and I left her with wine. Her favorite kind, I’ll have you know,” Jaskier insisted.

“And Valdo Marx was a part of your plan?” Geralt asked, eyes still gazing ahead. Jaskier scoffed and glanced to where Geralt look, opening his mouth to offer some witty retort but then he did a doubletake. You were standing inches away from Valdo whose eyes caught Jaskier’s. He looked delighted at the ashen pallor Jaskier’s face took. The color soon returned with vigor and before Geralt could rise from the table, Jaskier was halfway across the floor.

—–

“Y/N,” Jaskier said, appearing at your side so suddenly you squeaked in surprise.

“Jaskier!” you exclaimed, “Good gods where did you come from?”

“Hades,” Valdo murmured.

“I just saw you talking with an old acquaintance and wanted to ensure that you were properly introduced,” Jaskier said coolly, his words directed at Valdo more than you.

“Allow me,” Valdo said, interjecting quickly, “Valdo Marx, bard of Cidaris.”

He took your hand and raised it to his lips though Jaskier looked at him as though he may physically tear his lips from his face if they touched any part of you. You looked between the two of them confused.

“Wait, you’re Valdo Marx? Oh Jaskier he’s nowhere near as odious looking as you said. Quite the opposite in fact,” you said. Valdo shot Jaskier a squinty glare which was duly returned.

“And Valdo, I know some things you’ve said about Jaskier which were equally false. And things you’ve done. Did you know that your little stunt of spreading that lie about Jaskier and the pox cost him a job which cost us the chance at staying in an inn one night?” you asked, jabbing your finger in his chest.

“If I had any idea that you were with him I never would have done such a thing,” he replied emphatically.

“Y/N come, let’s have a dance,” Jaskier said, taking one of your hands.

“Allow me to explain myself further,” Valdo implored, taking the one you had pressed against his ribcage, “I promise I’m not as bad as I’ve seemed. Or acted. And in some ways I can get so much worse.”

His eyes glinted with a promise that made your stomach flip and Jaskier’s insides burn. He roughly pulled you next to him, his hand moving to wrap a more possessive arm around your waist.

“Y/N came with me,” he snarled at Valdo.

“She’s leaving with me.” Valdo snarled back.

“If you’re quit done fighting over me like two dogs with one bone I have something to say,” you interjected, though a part of yourself you weren’t proud of enjoyed watching these men inch ever closer to a physical altercation over you. They looked at you expectantly though whenever their eyes caught each other’s they squinted into a glower.

“Jaskier I did come with you but it was with the express intent to find someone because gods knows you aren’t interested and it’s not fair of you to try and decide who I speak with now,” you argued. Valdo preened as Jaskier stammered a bit under your glare. This was not going how he expected at all.

“I am,” he said quickly, “Y/N, believe me when I tell you that I am.”

“Oh sure because now Valdo is here and it’s a matter of pride,” you argued.

“No,” he implored take your hand up again with his, the sky blue eyes gazing into yours as they had earlier that day and as you thought about it, as they had many times before though you’d dismissed them as a foolish trick of your own love for him. “Y/N I have loved you since nearly the very day we met. I didn’t know how to tell you or if I should and, I must confess, I thought I had more time.”

“Because you didn’t think another man would be interested?” you asked, hurt plain on your face.

“Gods no, because you didn’t seem interested in others,” he explained.

“Well why would you offer to help me find a partner if you wanted me?” you demanded.

“She raises a good point. A pretty shit plan if I may say so myself. Seems the lady would fare better with a smarter, more direct partner,” Valdo cut in.

“Shut it,” Jaskier bit out fiercely before turning his face back to you, tender once more, “It was, admittedly, a plan that sounded better in theory. I was going to do this whole elaborate speech about no one being worthy of you – myself included – but how much I wanted to try and work at it for as long as you’d let me.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the words you’d wanted to hear for so long brought a tear to your eye. If he had done this five minutes before it would have been the easiest, quickest answer. But he hadn’t, and you found yourself in the unprecedented position of feeling torn between two men. This always sounded exciting and enviable in stories but now that you stood here you just felt frozen.

“Pretty works, Jaskier, perhaps the first you’ve ever spoken. But the fact remains that you have had months to make these feelings known and didn’t whereas I identified her the moment my eyes laid on her as someone I must know. And I didn’t wait for silly games. So I ask you, Y/N, what would you rather have? Someone who goes after what they want when they want it, or someone who plays the long game, taking for granted that you’ll be hanging around waiting for them?” Valdo asked.

“I do love you Jaskier,” you said. You felt Valdo drop your hand gently and you turned to face him, “But.”

The word hung in the air as both men stared at you breathlessly.

“But I cannot deny that I’m drawn to Valdo as well,” you confessed, feeling oddly guilty, “And I know it’s not how it’s supposed to be but… It’s true.”

“Perhaps a sampling,” Valdo suggested.

“What?”

“You spend an evening seeing what Jaskier has to offer and you spend an evening seeing what I can do and you make your decision,” he explained.

“You’re not a platter of meats,” you scoffed. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I could be,” he purred. You felt Jaskier’s arm tighten around your waist.

“Unless you’re worried that I would outperform you. Yet again,” Valdo said to Jaskier. Jaskier gave a sharp, humorless bark of laughter.

“Gods no. If anything I think of you and your poor, tender feelings. I fear you would never bring yourself to perform again after being so soundly shown up,” Jaskier sneered.

It wasn’t ladylike or right or moral but you had an idea. A scandalous, daring, wicked idea. Then again, you reasoned with yourself, men did it all the time.

“Perhaps this can be settled,” you said. Again two pairs of eyes landed on you, blazing green and cool blue. “Perhaps…”

“A fuck off?” Jaskier offered. Valdo rolled his eyes at the vulgarity but you brightened and nodded, grateful someone had spared you saying it. “Well I have no reason to fear it.”

He looked at Valdo challengingly and your heart pounded in your throat. The man looked back at you and as his eyes slowly scanned your body again you felt Jaskier’s grip tighten so hard it would likely leave marks. The idea thrilled you.

“Name the time and place,” Valdo said, “It will be an unequivocal pleasure showing you up yet again.”

—–

Geralt watched the three of you walk away, Jaskier’s arm around your waist and Valdo taking up your free hand. He debated with himself for a full five minutes about whether or not he should follow. If what was happening what he thought was happening, he didn’t want to be anywhere near it. Then again, there was an even chance that it would end in attempted murder. He took a long pull from his ale and shook his head. You could handle yourself.

[seanfalco]

Hair Pulling | Valdo x f!Reader

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x Reader Word Count: 947 Rating: E Tag List: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @wayward-dream (idk why it won’t let me tag you;;) a/n: I couldn’t help myself :3

“Why is your hair so… big?” you asked wryly, your smirk disappearing with a moan as Valdo nipped at your neck, drawing the sensitive flesh between his lips and sucking hard to mark you.

“I like to give my partners something to hold on to,” he purred in your ear, sending a shiver racing through you and a wave of heat pooling between your thighs.

“That’s -- considerate of you,” you gasped as he parted your legs with his knee and his mouth explored your flushed skin further.

“I aim to please, sweetling,” he murmured between wet kisses against your chest, his lips dragging across your flesh like the sweetest caress.  

Arching toward him and grinding your aching core against his thigh only did so much and you needed more.  “Valdo,” you whined, feeling him smirk against you before circling your raised nipple with his tongue.  “Fuck -- ahh!”  Your words dissolved into a breathy moan as the bard continued to toy with you.

“What was that, my songbird?  I didn’t quite catch that.”  

Lifting his face from your chest, his dark curls fell across his forehead and you were met with a smug smile on those perfect lips; his emerald eyes dark with barely restrained lust.  If a look alone could make you cum, you would have right then and there, and for a moment all thought fled your mind and you gaped up at him, lips parted; your entire body thrumming with need and anticipation.

“Valdo, I want you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch as he caressed your cheek.

“I’m all yours, love,” he purred, brushing a lingering kiss to your lips.

“You know what I meant,” you huffed, knowing his game -- it wouldn’t be Valdo if he didn’t tease you first; wanting to hear you say exactly what you wanted him to do to you.

“Oh?  Did I?”  His grin turned wicked and you squirmed under him, reluctant to give in just yet; blushing at the thought of voicing your desires. 

“[Y/N], tell me what you want,” he drawled, knowing how desperate he was making you as you ground against his thigh again, whimpering softly.  “All you need do is speak, for I am your willing slave.”

Groaning with frustration you stilled, forcing yourself to speak, though you wanted to hide your face.  “I want… your mouth…”

“Yes, dove?  Where do you want it?” he prompted, kissing the shell of your ear.

“...between my legs.”

“Good girl,” he breathed and you blushed readily at his praise.  Taking his time kissing down your body, he seemed to revel in every breathy moan that left your lips and the impatient way you squirmed under his every featherlight touch til he was settled, finally, between your legs.

Expecting more teasing you gasped, muscles constricting in surprise as his tongue swiped along your folds, deftly flicking at your swollen nub.  Humming in amusement, he reached up to take your hands, which had balled in the sheets beneath you and moved them to the top of his head.  Obediently, you carded your fingers into his thick curls and felt him grin against your cunt.  

If that was what he wanted, then you could certainly oblige.

Tightening your grip experimentally, Valdo moaned, his tongue lapping faster the harder you tugged.  Loosening your grip brought a lazy flick to your clit before Valdo paused, peering up at you from between your legs -- the sight a rather nice one, though you pouted at the loss of his mouth where you so wanted it.

“I’m not so fragile [Y/N].  Don’t be afraid to be rough with me.  Use me,” he purred, the last words turning to a growl, his sharp green eyes boring into yours and you nodded wordlessly, unable to look away from the intensity  of his gaze.

Satisfied with your response he lowered his face, kneeling before you as if in prayer, reverently worshiping you with his deft tongue and you tightened your grasp in his curly locks once more, forcing his face closer as you arched toward him, pressing your throbbing cunt against his eager mouth; dragging a pleased groan from his throat.  His fingers tightened on your thighs, biting into your flesh as you ground against his face, fuelled by the blind need to tip yourself over the threshold of your pleasure.

Head thrown back against the sheets you crashed headlong into the release you’d been chasing, Valdo’s name on your lips, turning into a wordless cry as he didn’t let up; your body shuddering from the overstimulation, forcing a second orgasm to seize you until you collapsed back, completely spent.  By the time Valdo crawled over you, pulling you gingerly into his arms some of your strength had returned and you opened your eyes.

“You like having your hair pulled, don’t you?” you mused.  

It was less of a question and more of an observation, and Valdo grinned down at you; his curls still sticking up at odd angles from your rough treatment.

“And you do it so well,” he drawled, brushing a stray strand of your own hair from your flushed face.

“There are other things I do well, too,” you pointed out smugly, giving him a meaningful look as your hand brushed over the straining bulge in his small clothes.

“I’m quite aware, my talented little songbird,” Valdo replied, letting you push him to his back.

“Good, because I intend to make you beg before we’re done,” you said as you crawled astride him, planning to pay him back tenfold for all his teasing.

“I would expect no less,” Valdo admitted, following you every movement eagerly with his gaze.  “You know how I like it.”

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

[angst-fairygodmother]

Parties (Valdo Marx x Reader)

For @heroics-and-heartbreak who is having a birthday. A/N: That little note in the wee hours of the morning was definitely not a mere (wholly meant and heartfelt) distraction in case I didn’t finish this in time... Word Count: 2150

Valdo had been acting strangely for weeks, oddly anxious, especially about your normally slightly lackadaisical travel schedule, and skittish when you tried to ask him about it. And even though you loved him and trusted him without question, you were starting to get a little bit annoyed and suspicious of his behavior.

“That’s it Valdo!” you snapped, planting your fists on your hips and staring him down. “Tell me what is going on. You’re rushing us like you’ve gotten an unexpected invite to a royal banquet. Only I know there isn’t any banquet. So what gives?”

“I know, my muse, that I have been acting peculiar and unfair,” he sighed, looking apologetically up at you through his long lashes. “But I promise, if you trust me just a little while longer, it will all be worth it. Can you do that for me?”

You jutted your jaw stubbornly. He reached out, pulling one of your hands away from your body so that he could lace his fingers through yours and bring it to his lips, planting adoring little kisses across your knuckles and trailing them down to the inside of your wrist. You tried to maintain your glare, but you practically melted into his touch and sighed.

“Fine, a little while longer. But this had better be good.”

~

You fussed and fidgeted with your laces for perhaps the twentieth time tonight as the carriage where you and Valdo rode bounced along the narrow road.

“Y/N, angel,” Valdo murmured, lips close to your ear and hand moving to cover yours, guiding it down into your lap instead of fiddling with your collar. “Please relax. There is nothing to be worried about.”

“But Duke Agloval is the ruler of Bremervoord.”

“And still just a duke. You have met kings and queens my love, and held your own against them stunningly. There is nothing to worry about. This evening will be fun, I promise.”

You bit your lip nervously and flashed him a shaky smile. “Alright, Valdo, I’ll try.”

“That is all I ask.” He reached over to brush a stray hair out of your face and smiled at you, leaving you momentarily breathless from the brightness of it and the glimmer in his emerald eyes.

When your carriage finally rolled to a stop, you had mostly talked yourself into being calm, if only to avoid embarrassing your lover.

Hopping lightly to the ground, Valdo reached back up to the carriage to offer you a hand, which you gladly took even though you probably could have alighted without assistance. Rather than releasing you, he tucked your arm into his, leading you down the long, cobbled path and up to the door. When the pair of you passed into the ballroom, you were momentarily startled to hear your name announced beside Valdo’s rather than simply being ‘and his guest’ as you usually were, but that shock was nothing compared to what you felt when you saw the sight before you.

Candles flickered in crystal globes around the room, some sitting on tables or pedestals but most suspended from the ceiling on delicate braids of silver and copper wire. Rich linens the color of the sea decorated every surface, and many had runners of a truer teal brocade down their centers. The air was thick with the heady scent of flowers coming from the bouquets of peonies and roses on the tables. You frowned, puzzled to notice how much of the room’s décor reflected your favorite things rather than anything more traditional of Bremervoord (or its parent-state of Cidaris), and at the fact that much of the crowd had stopped their actions to watch as you entered.

“Valdo,” you murmured, leaning close and feeling his curls tickle your face as you spoke. “What is all this?”

“Do you not know what day it is darling?” he asked lightly, waving the gathered people back to their dancing as he swept you into a move of his own as soon as your toes touched the polished floor.

“Of course I…” your jaw fell open, stunned. It was your birthday. Had he…?

“Are you telling me that you did all this for me?” you asked incredulously.

“Technically, I just called in the favors to have others do it for me, but yes. I’ve been planning and corresponding with the Duke for months. He owed me a few favors that I decided to cash in.” The grin on his face was of the cat that ate the canary, and you had a sneaking suspicion that his favors were not all granted in entirely good faith.

“Oh Valdo,” you sighed, eyes welling up with tears and feeling utterly overwhelmed. “It’s too much…you shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense, I had to make sure it was only the best for you oh Pearl of my Heart. You deserve the world, and I wasn’t able to get that for you, so I had to do what I could.”

You smiled weakly at him, heart and nerves fluttering for entirely separate reasons, before pulling him close and resting your head on his shoulder, burying your face into his neck as you danced.

~

At some point during the evening, it had come time for you to open gifts from your guests (some of whom you actually knew, family and old friends and people you had met on your travels, but many more simply the nobles who had heard this was the event to be at). Your stomach twisted at the thought of what might be hidden in the colorfully and expensively wrapped parcels and how you were ever going to handle the attention of receiving them in front of a crowd of nearly two hundred.

Most of them turned out to be from Valdo: fine jewelry and extravagant clothing, a delicately engraved and embroidered saddle and set of tack (for the sturdy little brown mare that the duke proffered), a fine ivory toothed comb. You lost track of the number of clearly expensive things given, guilt at their cost rising higher and higher in your throat until it, along with the stress and pressure of the rest of such a public event, threatened to choke you.

Finally it became too much and you found yourself stealing away from your own birthday party during a moment where Valdo had disappeared to fetch you more wine. Collapsing with a sigh onto the rim of one of the fountains bubbling away in the castle gardens, you tried to steady your reeling head.

“Aren’t you the picture of godly grace?” a familiar voice teased from the shadows a short while later while you sat there running your fingers delicately through the pool. “I almost wish I were a painter in this moment rather than a musician, so I could capture this sight. Instead I shall just have to hold it in my heart until the day I die.”

“Valdo,” you said, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “What are you doing out here?”

“If you are here, Sweetling, then I can think of nowhere else I could possibly be.” His emerald eyes smiled at you, crinkling slightly at the corners, as he walked over to sit beside you, knees bumping. “Although I do have to wonder what the star of the hour, and every one of my hours, is doing absconding from their own party?”

You turned away, suddenly finding yourself unable to look at him directly, instead locking eyes with his reflection in the moonlight.

“I know you went through all of this effort, and I really do appreciate the gesture but…it’s just not me. It’s too much. I felt like I was suffocating in there.”

“I…” he trailed off as you held up a hand gently, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“It was a lovely thought to put together this party and those magnificent gifts, but I would have liked a quiet dinner with you under the moon and stars, the two of us tangled in each other’s arms for the night, just as well, or even better, than all this.”

“Of course you would have,” he sighed, face falling forlornly. “I should have known that. I wasn’t thinking enough of you when I…will you wait here, darling, for just a bit for me?” he asked, giving your hands a brief squeeze as he stood, a new determination on his face.

You nodded. “I would wait here for a thousand years if you asked, Valdo. You know that. Although I think my limbs might go a little numb by then.”

He chuckled, bending down to kiss you sweetly, all too soon pulling away despite you trying to chase after him. As your eyelids fluttered back open, all you caught sight of was his retreating back.

~

You were sure nearly an hour had passed while you sat by the fountain, waiting for Valdo to return. You weren’t particularly keen on returning to the party, but you were growing chilly as the shadows lengthened around you. You were just starting to consider breaking your promise and going back inside to look for him when Valdo reappeared from through the hedge.

Pausing before you, he reached out a hand. You placed yours in it, feeling the warmth of his long fingers curling around you as he tugged you up from your seat and into his arms. Cupping your jaw gently he kissed you with a slow, steady passion that threatened to send you back to the fountain rim, legs feeling weak beneath you in its wake. His tongue traced patterns and promises against your own and you threaded your hand through his curls, not letting your other hands part. Reluctantly, he pulled back to let you breathe, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve one more thing for you, love, if you’ll give me one more chance?” he whispered, lips and facial hair still tickling as they barely brushed against your skin.

“One, a hundred, a thousand,” you murmured in answer, licking your lip slightly in the hopes of tempting back into the kiss.

Instead, he pulled away, using your interlocked hands to lead you down a twisting garden path. You whined at the loss of his body heat, shivering slightly in the night. Noticing this, he shrugged off his lush burgundy doublet without pausing and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it closed around you with your free hand, inhaling the sharp, spiced scent of him and admiring the way his now exposed black shirt clung to his lithe form.

Suddenly he stopped, blocking your view of whatever was in front of him with his body. Covering your eyes with his hands, your back pressed to his chest he spun you, swinging you around in a wide, circle, almost like the waltz you had danced earlier except that you were backwards, before coming to rest.

“I hope this makes up for my mistake,” he purred in your ear before sliding his hands away from your face.

You gasped at the sight before you. A smooth green blanket stretched over the grass of this open part of the lawns, and sitting off to one side of it was a tray with a pair of pewter goblets and a pitcher of wine. Several of the little candle-globes sat strategically around the blanket, lighting everything with a soft, warm glow. In the center, sitting like a crown jewel on display, was his lute.

“Before you had even finished saying it, I knew this is what I should have done,” he said, arms still wrapped around your middle. “Shall we sit?”

You nodded, not wanting to leave his hold but also longing to feel what the soft-looking blanket was like beneath you.

Gently, he picked up his lute, cradling it close as you settled and strumming a soft cord. It wasn’t long before he lost himself in playing and you lost yourself in him. This song was new, but so beautiful that you thought you might cry, and he was so beautiful and so in his element, peaceful and happy, that you did cry.

Noticing the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, he set the instrument aside, cupping your face so his thumbs could brush them away.

“Y/N?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. “Why are you crying?”

“Because this is perfect,” you whispered back, smiling.

“Only the best for you, star of my eye and treasure of my soul.”

He leaned in to kiss you once more, cradling your body against him as he laid you back on the blanket. You wrapped one hand around his shoulders, the other tangling into his hair, relishing in the familiar warm weight against you. You moaned softly, melting into him as his hands roamed and caressed you and his tongue danced with yours and he poured every ounce of love he possessed for you into your union.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

[moonlights-inkwell]

Come On, Rip My Clothes Off

Modern! Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 1635

Summary: When your boyfriend told you he was dropping out of university to start a band, you expected a lot of things. This was not one of them.

A/N: Really, I have no excuse for this one. It’s straight up some mindless smut, but like. Modern. It was a good enough distraction from the like... 3 unfinished serieses I have. Rip. It’s modern and junk, but I’m still seeing this reader as the same as the one in the rest of my fics. Enjoy the smut.

Title from Wild Blue Yonder

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Slight dirty talk. Jokes about foot fetishes. Explicit mention of Jaskier having an exhibition kink.

When your boyfriend said he was dropping out of university to start a band you expected a few things. One was moving out of your flat to find a smaller one that would be easier to afford on one pay check. Another was to spend too many nights hanging about in dive bars to listen to him strum away at that guitar, listening to honeyed words and watching ringed fingers move over the frets at speeds while trying not to focus on the silly Bart Simpson sticker in the lower corner. The thing you expected the least, however, is exactly what's happening to you now: being fingered in the back of a tour bus.  

The tour bus itself you probably could have guessed. Jaskier is overwhelmingly talented, you knew he would do well with music, even if his stupid song about his weird best friend hadn't gone viral and ended up on Billboard's Hot 100. The fingering too was always on the cards, but the two together? No. You never would have assumed that was on the cards. It seemed too much like something from one of those tabloid magazines piled up by the self-checkout in any store, kinda fantastical and something that happens to other people, not you. You work in a bar between classes, and girls like you don’t have this happen to you, but it’s happening none the less. It’s dizzying, but not as dizzying as his fingers are.  

His fingers, stupidly talented fingers, are moving at such a lazy pace you could cry, alternating between crooking and scissoring the digits as if you both have all the time in the world. You guess you do. It was a good show, and his hand is moving at a pace that would make that clear even if you hadn’t been watching the whole thing. He takes his time after shows where everything goes as they should, still riding the high of screams of his name. Thrusting and spreading fingers, moving and searching for your g-spot, have you trying to cover your mouth, but he pulls your hand away with his free one to press sweet kisses to your palm. A jacket, gaudy and dyed a mint green with pins and badges along the lapels, is on the floor at your feet; it had served as a pathetic attempt to at least vaguely mask what is going on between the two of you while Geralt had been searching for his own jacket before going to meet his not-quite-girlfriend. He had figured out what had been going on, you suppose, seeing as he had made a sharpish exit after you had moaned but Jaskier had pushed his tongue into your mouth by that point, and maybe he just thought the two of you were very into kissing. It wouldn’t be the first time it had ever happened.

Performer that he is, Jaskier's got an exhibition kink a mile wide, one you know all too well.  

First year, when he was dorming with a prick called Valdo Marx, Jaskier made it his mission in life to make you cum until you screamed every time you had sex. Second year had seen you and him fucking in the untouched music theory section of the Oxenfurt library so often that you’re still surprised you weren’t caught. But those were different; you hadn’t given a shit about if Valdo Marx knew that Jaskier could make you cum six times in one night and knew there were no cameras in the dingy third floor corner that housed music books that no one ever came looking for. Here though? Here is something completely different. Even with the tour bus being empty you feel far too exposed.  

“God, Little Miss, you’re fuckin' soaked.” He sighs out, rubbing the heel of his palm into your clit leisurely. You are. Each ministration of his fingers has a soft moan coming from you. He’s grinning, ocean-eyes glittering at the sight of what he's doing to you, and you don’t know if you want to kiss or kill him. “You really must have liked the show.” You did, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t even the show you had enjoyed, not really, it was the sight of Jaskier strutting about on stage: glowing from the pure joy of performing, winking in your direction with every song, the gruff way his voice turned to a growl in songs about your sex life. He’s a god, an idiot and everything in-between, and you have absolutely no idea what the fuck you must have done in a past life to deserve him.  

“Fuck off, Julian.” Is all you can manage in response before another moan is torn from you, muffled by you biting your lip. You don’t need to be quiet, not now, all of his band mates and security have long since left the bus, but still you’re determined to be quiet.

Quiet infuriates him. He cannot stand the quiet, you think it’s the musician in him that just can’t let the quiet be, he spends so much time making noises with his hands- drawing beautiful sounds from every instrument he ever touches. Being silent is rebellion, to encourage him to try harder, so he does. A hand, soft but firm, pushes you onto your back- and when you glance to him, he’s smirking down at you, like how a dog eyes a steak before devouring it. The look would be enough to make a weaker woman worried, but you know it all too well, know those cornflower eyes and the path they always take from your own eyes to your tits and then down to your cunt, how to roaming of his eyes has his pupils growing wider and darker. Feral. Your thighs are pushed up without warning, pressed into your stomach while those clever fingers are tugging your jeans and panties down so he can see you fully. A gentle breeze passes across your soaked slit, which makes you shiver and Jaskier grin. The position is not the most comfortable in the world, but it’s worth it when you hear the weak moan that comes from the man leering over you; dazed and grinning at the sight of your soaked sex.  

“Melitele's tits, Dear Heart, you’re fucking beautiful.”  

“Flatterer.”  

“No, just a man with eyes.” He smiles and thrusts his fingers back into you, struggling to remove your jeans with one hand. “A man lucky enough to have you, Little Miss.”

He’s forgotten your shoes, the muttered curses he lets out when he gets your clothes down to your ankles makes it obvious and you laugh. Of course, he did. Of fucking course he forgot about your shoes. He’s been all over you from the moment he got off stage, but now he’s found an obstacle, and it was entirely because he didn’t give you a second to kick off your boots.  

The laughter dies on your tongue though when he slaps your thigh playfully. He’s trying to look indignant, but you can see the smile in his eyes even if it doesn’t quite reach his lips yet. It isn’t enough power to hurt, but it is enough to make you stop laughing and smile up at him.

“Are you laughing at me, Little Miss?”  

“I don’t know. Did you forget I had shoes on?”  

He flushes at that, gnawing at his bottom lip before thrusting a finger towards your face as fingers inside of you crook; drawing out a loud moan both from shock and pleasure.  

“Sorry I care more about making you cum than I do about you having shoes on. It would be weirder if I spent my time staring at your feet, don’t you think?”  

He’s right, but you just moan again and grab at his wrist. Crooking fingers finally hit that spot deep within you, your thighs shake and eyes roll back slightly.  

“There she is.” Jaskier coos, and you feel your boots be pulled from your feet, one by one, followed finally by your pants. “You close, Dear Heart?”  

“Yes...”  

“Oh I know, darling. I can feel you, you’re so fucking tight.” He leans over you and presses his lips to the crook of your neck. “Do you wish it was my cock, Little Miss? My cock just slamming into you while you grip me so fucking tight.” How his words are enough to have you teetering on the brink of oblivion is confusing but you can’t afford it any thought, no all you can do is chase his fingers with your hips, desperately trying to reach that perfect, blissful high. “I wish it was too, Dear Heart.”

“Jaskier-"  

“Or my mouth on you. You always did say I had a smart mouth. Could just lie down and let you just... use my mouth until you cum, so I can flip you over and make you cum, over. And over again.”  

His fingers slow slightly, but there's so much more power in the thrusts now, clearly trying to send you over the edge. He’s hitting your g-spot over, and over, unyielding and unwavering. You’re close. So close, just a little more is all you need. For him to just duck his head down, lather his tongue across your clit and show you how that little death feels once more but...

He stops.  

“Jaskier!” You almost shout at him, moving towards him only for him to grasp the back of your head and kiss you- bypassing any nicety to push his tongue into your mouth and tugging you onto his lap. Cold, rough denim drags across your naked sex, and you remember suddenly how naked you are in comparison to him.  

“I want you to cum on my tongue or on my cock.”  

It’s going to be a long night.  

[motimatcha]

Запах.

Reader x Urd Geales (Valdo Geales).

Читатель является Третьей основательницей и королевой Великобритании.

Запросы открыты, если кому интересно.

За окном буйствовала метель, чей пробирающий до костей ветер, снег и дождь нещадно колотились в окна домов, вырывали деревья с корнями и, чудом, оставляли крыши и дома без своего внимания, позволяя людям и вампиром переждать эту адскую ночь. Ещё с утра можно было понять, что этот день будет тяжелым не только для человеческих детенышей, которые только доброте душевной (если такая ещё имелась) продолжали жить в Великобританском царстве вампиров, но и для обращенных королевой вампиров, что с хмурым выражением лица смотрели в сереющее, а позднее и чернеющее, небо, где яркими вспышками мелькали молнии, да раскаты грома доносились до острого слуха каждого вампира; им всем неуютно, но каждый продолжает делать свою работу, ожидая приказа своей королевы.

Очередная вспышка молнии разнеслась над городом и последовавший грохот извещал каждого, что вот-вот начнется метель.

— Королева, — с глубоким почтением, если не восхищением, в голосе произнесла одна из служанок и опустила взгляд в пол, когда Третья основательница подняла на неё пронзительных взгляд алых глаз, — Как и было написано в послании, к вам прибыл Второй основатель. Ваши подданные уже встретили его и сопровождают в сторону дворца.

[Имя] на секунду словно задумалась, прикрывая свои алые глаза и аккуратно поправив прическу, она грациозно поднялась со своего трона и, спустившись по мраморным ступеням покрытие бархатным ковр��м, направилась в сторону приемной палаты, куда должен будет прибыть Вальдо Джиллес и его свита подданных. За окном бушевала метель и королева не могла не наслаждаться видом, как на высоких стеклах медленно расцветают узоры инея, как бушует снег и ветер с дождем, как качаются верхушки деревьев и нагибаются практически к земле, треща от той силы, что действует на них.

— Королева [Имя], — снова послышался голос служанки, отвлекшей её Королеву от созерцания бунта природы. Вопросительный взгляд королевы показался той раздраженным, словно женщина готовилась снести её голову за такое своеволие, отчего обращенная немедля отступила на три шага назад, — К-Король России, господин Вальдо…

Тюдор не успела закончить, как двери в палату широко распахнулись и верные слуги впустили жданного гостя вместе с его свитой. [Имя] степенно отошла от окна, каждое её движение было наполнено силой и властью, что не могло не завораживать других вампиров, которые считали всякие эмоции утерянными для себя, но эстетичная королева Великобритании, что одним взглядом могла поставить на колени любого вампира и человека, словно пробуждала в каждом из присутствующих трепет, восхищение чужой красотой.

— Третья основательница, королева Великобританского королевства, — спокойный, нежный голос лился из чужих губ, когда обращённая женщина сделала почтительный реверанс, — Рада приветствовать Второго основателя, короля России Вальдо Джилесса в своем доме.

— Ваша красота всё так же прекрасна, как и сотню лет назад, — тихо прошептал мужчина, одарив [Имя] поклоном и легким поцелуем руку.

На какие-то мгновения королеве показалось, что в вечно равнодушных, а порой и усталых, алых глазах мелькнула волна недовольства и легкий прищур, словно Вальдо усомнился в подлинности королевы Великобритании, которая не соблюла этикет, но [Имя] предпочла не обращать на это внимание, предложив отправиться в её кабинет, чтобы обсудить важные вопросы из письма Второго основателя, а служанка принялась распределять гостей, понимая что королева в ближайшие часы будет занята политическими вопросами двух стран.

— Я понимаю, что указанные причины в твоем письме были только предлогом, — произнесла наконец-то вампирша, к��гда двое добрались до её кабинета и расположились на мягком кресле, — Если происходит что-то серьезное, то ты созываешь Совет основателей. Так что, расскажешь про свои истинные мотивы?

Вальдо молчал, молчал долго и упорно, словно находится не в доме своей возлюбленной, а на самом настоящем допросе, где за информацию палачам ещё придется побороться. Но Вальдо не на войне, его не брали в плен и не пытаются выведать информацию — он был в доме, где очень тепло и на столе стоит две чашки с горячим чаем, а рядом находится любимая им женщина, что хватаясь за частички прошлого, смогла сохранить в себе капли эмоций. Джиллес вздохнул так, словно собирался принять самое тяжелое для него решение в этой вечной жизни и медленно поднялся со своего места, сопровождаемый любопытным взглядом [Имя], он медленно обошел её со спины и опустил свои холодные руки на хрупкие плечи.

Вальдо холодный, потому что он давно мертв.

[Имя] холодная, потому что на улице бушует метель, а дрова в камине почти прогорели.

Чужой шеи касается холодный металл, где вставленные темные камни блестели, отражая языки пламени. Тонкие пальцы аккуратно касаются украшения, а взгляд цепляется за зеркало: Вальдо стоит за спиной, ожерелье на шее и удивленный взгляд алых глаз.

— С новым годом, королева [Имя], — улыбка трогает губы вампира, когда на него налетают с крепкими объятьями от которых трещат кости, а внутренности вот-вот будут раздавлены.

— С новым го-… что ты делаешь?.. — шепчет женщина, когда попытавшись отстраниться встретилась с препятствием в виде рук на талии, а так же пары острых клыков, что слегка задевали кожу под ухм во время поцелуев, которыми одаривал её Вальдо, — Валь…

— Мне не нравится запах той служанки, что остался на тебе.

[jaskierswolf]

Other Ships and Gen Fics

AO3 Series - Gen AO3 Series

Dandelion/Priscilla: And I Love Her, To Find Your Heart - (x), Sunset Date, Ruin

Triss/Eskel: Flower Crown, 

Yennefer/Triss/Eskel: Greek Mythology AU,

Yennefer/Istredd: Arguments, Grow Old With me, Handsome stranger,

Geraskefer: Cuddles

Calanthe/Eist: Bookshops, Blacksmith AU, Yes Chef,

Valdo/Jaskier: Backstage, The Prince of Darkness (CWs apply)

Regis/Geralt: Addiction, Hold Me,

Francesca/Fringilla: Partners

Eskel/Dandelion: Lovely Thembo

Lambert/Jaskier: Beauty in the world

Jaskier/Reader (You): It’s a date,

General: Tired Dad Geralt, Hair Grooming, Ace/Aro Eskel, Jaskier and Essi, Witcher Cuddles, Campfire cuddles (Hexer), Perfume Incident, Lambert & Dandelion Hair grooming, Aro Milva, Lambert plays the Lute, Wolfy Witchers, Times Worth Keeping, Burning, Help me (Angst!), No More Dreaming, Enby Jask, and Pris, Enby Cahir, ADHD Geralt, Tiger Eskel, Yen & Jask Coparent, Yen & Lambert make make-up,

Main Masterlist - (Updated: 27/03/22)

[aminiatureworld]

Moonlit Words

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Bit angsty

Premise:  For Jaskier the night is a time for thoughts and anxieties. For Geralt it is a time when his bard seems to get little sleep but disappears a lot. This situation becomes unbearable and the two finally have a conversation about themselves and their feelings for each other.

Author’s Note: Sorry for how long it's been since I've written! My mental health took a bit of a hit these past few weeks, so writing was slow going. Still, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope to be back to posting every five days soon!

My thanks to my readers in the endnote!

Ao3 link in reblog

        Jaskier could never say that he was unlucky for being alive. The things he’d experienced, even in the first years of his life, were the kind that children would dream of. For who could say that they’d traveled the Continent with a witcher, that they’d seen the edge of the world and had been gifted an instrument by elves, that they’d seen the absolute best and worst of humanity? Who could say that they met someone said to be a monster and had fallen hopelessly in love with them? For indeed, by now Jaskier could wholeheartedly admit that he’d fallen for Geralt, had crashed and burned, and was now in the process of being eaten from the inside out with the longing. Though he also knew to say anything might be an even more painful fate. So he’d said nothing. And indeed he was grateful, and lucky too. But sometimes it hurt a bit to keep it all inside. Especially after the mountain.

        Geralt had apologized of course, and Jaskier, as angry and hurt as he was, couldn’t say no to joining him again. Especially not after meeting Ciri, after hearing that Yennefer had gone missing. How could he leave Geralt to fend for himself in such a situation? So of course Jaskier went along with Geralt. But the bard couldn’t deny that there had been a shift in the relationship between the two and that the secrets Jaskier had once thought to reveal were now locked up firmly in his thoughts. Thoughts not only of his love for the Witcher but other things, like the trials of boyhood and long-gone friends and enemies. The worst thoughts were the anxieties that kept him up ungodly hours into the night. He’d toss and turn, head spinning round and round in a litany of despair. Jaskier wanted someone to confide in, needed it even. But there was no one, and he felt a bit like he was adrift on a dark sea, continued to corrode inside, wondering if there’d ever be some sort of reprieve.

         Geralt knew that something was wrong with Jaskier. At first Geralt had tried to ignore it, then he’d tried apologizing again, then he’d said nothing and simply watched as Jaskier seemed to slip farther and farther away. It was an agonizing thing to witness. Nightly there were the now-familiar sounds of Jaskier’s unrest, oftentimes resulting in him walking away from where the trio was camping. He’d leave for hours, hours in which Geralt felt every fiber of his being screaming at him to run after Jaskier. Not that he ever disappeared. Geralt knew Jaskier wouldn’t pull something like that, nor did Geralt have any false pretenses about Jaskier being able to defend himself against vagabonds and the like. Jaskier was lethal with a knife, something that secretly thrilled Geralt. Still, monsters were a different matter altogether, and though Geralt was always careful to camp where they’d be least likely to disturb any creatures lurking who knew where the bard went in the night. And the Witcher knew too well there were some things in the world worse than the monsters around oneself.

        That wasn’t the only alarm though. Geralt sometimes marveled that he’d ever complained about Jaskier talking too much. Not that Jaskier was completely silent, no, perhaps that’d be too obvious. Still, the times when Jaskier made stray comments about something he’d learned at Oxenfurt or asked questions about Geralt’s adventures appeared to be over. Now it was asking if he was going too slow, commenting about whether there’d be a storm, and every so often letting a short hum pass his lips before the melody inevitably stopped short, replaced by a nervous smile. It threw Geralt off guard, more than he’d like to admit, and suddenly the Witcher began to realize how little he knew of Jaskier’s thoughts, much less of his past. The contrast was even more apparent when traveling with Ciri, who was in the habit of mentioning things that reminded her of home or asking Geralt, and now Jaskier as well, about things such as her parents and her grandmother. Jaskier answered those questions readily enough at least, but now even Valdo Marx seemed to become forbidden territory, and when Geralt offhandedly mentioned the incident with the djinn Jaskier simply chuckled and pointed out a particularly lovely patch of daisies.

         The fire flickered lazily, reflecting perhaps the hot day that’d come before the night. These were the worst nights for Jaskier since sleep never came easily to him on the best of days it seemed, and the heat was bound to make things a hundred times worse. He’d tried to stave off the others, had spent extra time telling Ciri about various friends and acquaintances of her grandmother and parents, ignoring Geralt’s grumbling that fatigue was deadly for warriors. He’d even broken out the lute, something that hardly ever happened these days in front of other people, for his instrument had become a companion of the night when he could steal away from the campfire, rather than something to be enjoyed out in the open. It was too personal now. Still he’d sung a few songs, the usual fare that people at taverns liked best, and managed to get himself about an hour and a half of time before the inevitable grumblings from Geralt became snappish and it was time to sleep. Well, for the others to sleep at least.

        Jaskier lay down as always, throwing off the noisy blanket with the pretense it was too hot, and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for some time, waiting for Geralt’s breathing to hit the length and depth that betrayed the Witcher as fully meditative, before sitting up and grabbing his case. A part of him nagged at this stealing away once more, but it was easily ignored. He needed this, needed some time where he could be alone, could be fully himself, fully aware of all the pain and anxiety that was kept tightly corked in the daytime. So he looked around him, making sure that nothing was out of place from where he left it, and slowly crept out of the glade and into the welcoming trees beyond.

         Geralt’s surprise at Jaskier’s nighttime excursions had by this point vanished. It’d become such a routine part of the night that the Witcher couldn’t even find himself surprised at his companion’s reticence to lie down, his insistence on tiptoeing around the idea of going to sleep. Still, the whole activity sat wrong with Geralt, and this night was no different. Maybe it was even worse, for try as he might Geralt couldn’t stop the thoughts spinning round his head. Visions of broken ribs, twisted ankles, shadows that maimed and stabbed and killed, they all lined themselves up in an exhaustive litany in his head. It was ridiculous of course, Jaskier was many things but though the bard was sometimes foolish he was never an idiot. Still, perhaps Jaskier’s leaving and Yennefer’s disappearance had taught him something, for Geralt now stood up, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. He walked over to Ciri’s bedroll, shaking her gently. “Whaddya want?” came the response, for by this time Ciri had stopped jumping every time Geralt went to wake her up, something that had originally hurt the Witcher to see, a reminder of how many lives were ruined by the greed of men, a reminder that his family was a band of various survivors.

        “Jaskier went off, I’m going to look for him. You know where the weapons are. Whatever you do –“

        “Don’t fall asleep yeah, yeah.” Ciri sat up and waved her hand dismissively. “About time you go after the poor fellow, what’s it been three months?”

        “Yeah.” Geralt replied, impressed, as he’d never thought that Ciri would’ve noticed. The surprise must’ve shown somehow for Ciri smirked and made a pushing motion.

        “Go off and get Jaskier, he’s waiting, whether he knows it or not. Besides you’re all awfully annoying as you are right now.” Geralt shook his head and rolled his eyes, but still, a smile came to his face, and as he stalked out into the woods, trying to track where the bard went, he found himself thinking, survivors or not, he was very lucky with the family he had indeed.

        The moon was a sliver in the sky, barely enough light for a human to make out a few fingers in front of their face. Geralt, of course, had no issue picking himself throw the overgrown, well could one even call it a path? The marks of Jaskier on the other hand were much more evident, brambles bent and crooked, marks in the cool, wet earth. If someone had wanted to come after the bard locating him would’ve been no trouble. Still, the air seemed clear enough, and Geralt could hear no anomalies in the normal nocturnal comings and goings, something he found himself grateful for. Ears straining to hear any mark of the bard, Geralt finally caught a few scraps of Jaskier’s voice, although the sounds were hardly intelligible. Using Jaskier’s voice as a guide, Geralt found himself veering off the path, into a particularly lovely group of trees, all greenery, leaves puffing out in perfect circles like mushrooms, although the stars could still be seen through the gaps. Stepping silently near the one with the lowest branches Geralt made to call out, but finally, the words hit him, and the Witcher could do nothing but listen.

         “Well it’s not like I wouldn’t still like that bastard to rot. I mean really, the amount of groveling I did in my youth.” Jaskier sighed, leaning back into the cool comfort of the tree. It was really too easy to talk to himself. He was swallowed up by his own words. His lute was swung about his stomach, carefully protected from being smashed, but Jaskier had yet to play it. For now he was simply talking with himself, releasing all the pent up frustration. It wasn’t a two-way conversation, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in a way Jaskier didn’t mind that either. After all, didn’t other people always act like you said the wrong thing?

        “Not that I’ve stopped groveling. Damn it’s a miracle I left Geralt instead of beginning for forgiveness or something. Before coming right back of course! Can’t ever explain myself can I? Not that I still don’t love the damn idiot, but it hurt. It hurts to be disposable. But no one ever thinks like that do they? I don’t even think like that. Still, oh I don’t know. It hurts of course, but that’s nothing new.” Sighing Jaskier gazed up at the sky. “I wonder if the stars feel cold and lonely. Do they talk to themselves? Do the gods do so, all up in their marbled palaces, away from us all? Maybe they’re all lonely, and that’s the secret.” Sighing once more Jaskier made a halfhearted attempt to open his lute case. The cap he was wearing, really Jaskier now couldn’t live without his hats, fluttered off his head, and, too afraid to crush his instrument, Jaskier waited for the sound of it hitting the mossy ground beneath. When that didn’t come he leaned over, trying to keep his weight as centered as possible so as not to fall and wreck his lute, and, squinting a bit in the dark, found himself face to face with the last person on the Continent he’d like to have heard his ramblings.

        “Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice seemed odd to Jaskier’s ears. He loved Geralt’s voice, it’s deep tone and slow cadence, Jaskier had always suspected the Witcher could be one hell of a storyteller if he wished to be. Geralt’s voice was steadying, but now it only threw Jaskier into a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, most of them various levels of embarrassment.

        “Geralt!” Jaskier’s voice on the other hand was quite squeaky, hardly the dignified tenor the bard was known for. Still, acting cool in such a situation was out of the question, for Geralt had surely heard it all, damn his witcher senses. “Why’re you here?”

        “Why’re you here?”

        “I… uh… I came to relax. It’s much too hot, even without the blanket. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

        Jaskier could make out Geralt shaking his head, his hair seeming almost like liquid silver in the faint moonlight. “I knew you weren’t going to bed. You always sleep with a blanket, even in the hottest weather.”

        “Ah.” Jaskier wasn’t sure whether to be even more embarrassed or vaguely happy that Geralt knew his habits so well. The talking, however, was a habit that Jaskier would rather no one know about, witchers absolutely included. “Well, I’m sorry to worry you, but I’m alright, really. Just want to stay out and see the stars a bit longer. You don’t have to babysit me. I know you don’t like dead weight or anything like that. Go back to bed, I’m sure Ciri needs sleep too.” No way would Geralt leave Ciri asleep alone at night; Jaskier realized with a pang how much this excursion was costing others. Still, he couldn’t go back to sleep, not now.

        “You aren’t dead weight.” The reply was so unexpected Jaskier for a minute thought he’d imagined it, that this was one of his fantasies where Geralt was understanding and receptive, and, yes, as in love with Jaskier as he was with Geralt. The breath seemed to steal from Jaskier’s lungs, and a what was forming on his lips before Geralt continued. “You don’t have to go off to talk either. I… I’ll listen to them. I want to listen to them. I want to know more about you, like before.” Geralt’s head moved, showing the Witcher had moved his gaze towards the ground. “I want to know about your past. I want to know about your feelings. I want to know your thoughts, about yourself, about those around you. About,” the pause in the air was so charged Jaskier wondered if it would shock him, “me. You aren’t disposable. And I’m sorry. About the mountain. About making you feel like you aren’t important to me. You’re my companion. My family.”

         Geralt felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him. He usually didn’t like to talk much, stringing multiple sentences together felt somehow burdensome to others. Still, the words needed to be said. More needed to be said of course. Geralt’s feelings for Jaskier had always been warm. Jaskier was the sunlight in his life, a fire that danced and crackled, brilliant and flashy, yes, but warm and comforting too. He didn’t want to think about it, not even to himself. He wasn’t brave like Jaskier, couldn’t put those words out into the universe, where they’d have such power. Still, apparently keeping them locked up harmed instead of helped. He gazed up in the tree, could see the watery quality of Jaskier’s eyes, something that only made the blue of his irises more striking. The urged seized Geralt to climb up the tree and sweep the bard into a hug. To listen to the stories of the bastard who forced Jaskier to grovel, something that swept waves of anger and sadness through Geralt, so strong for a moment he couldn’t even pin them down. He wanted to listen to Jaskier, to respond so that the bard didn’t have to respond to himself. He wanted to do that and then to talk himself, to string those tricky sentences together, to bind them and throw them haphazardly into the world where they’d fall to Jaskier’s feet, like flower petals. He wanted Jaskier to feel less alone, to feel happy. He needed to say that. How though? There seemed such a barrier, why was there always a barrier?

        “Thank you.��� Jaskier was speaking now, even as his eyes continued to water and his face redden. “I know this is unexpected. And I know you don’t talk much about it. About anything really, most silent man I know.” Jaskier huffed out an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to say that just to humor me though. I just need time for myself.”

        “You don’t need to say that, don’t need to make me leave you alone.” Geralt he knew this dance, had learned the steps himself at an early age. Tell everyone it’s alright. Push them away. Let the loneliness eat you up inside as long as no one else knows. “I meant those words. I want to listen. And I want you to have someone to listen to you. I’m not letting you humor me either.”

        “You don’t understand what that means. I’m fine.”

        “No, you aren’t. And you don’t have to haul ass in a tree to hide. I don’t understand. But I want to. And that’s it.” Geralt reached for the nearest branch, and quickly found himself sitting on the same level as the bard. “I won’t force you to talk. But I also don’t want you to pretend and then spend the better half of three months running away at night to let yourself get eaten up by the feeling you repress. You always defended me against people who said witchers didn’t feel things, right? Well, I’m defending you against whatever part of your mind tells you bards don’t feel things either.”

        “Alright.” Jaskier shook his head. “I’m tired. You win. But don’t act all surprised when you don’t like what you hear.”

        “Thank you. From now on?”

        “From now on.” Jaskier nodded. “But first, sleep.”

        “What?” Geralt looked a bit as if he’d been rammed by a horse, something that made Jaskier burst out into laughter, for it all seemed so wildly hilarious now, the entire situation.

        “You left Ciri to defend on her own, didn’t you? And talking to you is exhausting.” Jaskier gazed up through the tree. “The stars will be here tomorrow. Just like my troubles. One night won’t make them go away. Even hundreds of nights won’t.” Sliding down the tree, careful to protect his lute, Jaskier landed in the moss, Geralt close behind. “You sure you meant all you said?”

        “Yes.” Geralt seemed back to his reticent self. Jaskier felt the urge to slip into his regular persona as well, but it was too late for that. Besides, he thought to himself, I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. I’m tired. And, somehow, I think it’ll be alright. After all, no one’s offered to listen before. Jaskier suddenly felt his hand enveloped in warmth. Glancing down he saw his finger intertwined with Geralt’s.

        “You sure about this?” He blurted out.

        “Yes.” Geralt replied again. “And, Jaskier?”

        “Yeah?”

        “I… I may not… I mean… you’re my friend.”

        “I hope I am!” Jaskier joked, slipping into his usual bluster. Still, it seemed as if Geralt wasn’t quite done with his thought, for he shook his head again slightly, and plowed ahead.

        “You’re my friend. But also, you’re more than that. Witchers don’t have companions. Not with our lifespans, not with the danger we put ourselves through. But, if we were to have them, if I could choose a companion… you’d be mine.”

        It wasn’t quite the same thing as Jaskier’s ramblings, honestly, nothing could compare to those, but the bard smiled anyways. Squeezing his hand Jaskier suddenly felt light. There was still so much he had locked away, still, so much he’d buried and hidden. Still, it was as if, if only for a moment, there’d been a great flash, and hope had suddenly warmed his soul. It wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was enough. And if Geralt was truly going to listen, then Jaskier was so very lucky to be alive indeed.

My heartfelt thanks to the 20 people who liked my last post and the 4 people who reblogged it. I’m so sorry for the wait and every single like makes me feel honored and brings me joy. I hope to live up to your expectations as a fanfic writer and I hope you continue to enjoy my works!

[cowbpy]

Witcher Fics I Want

this is jaskier x geralt by the way. i couldn't sleep so i came up with these instead.

Skating AU

Jaskier is a figure skater and Geralt is a hockey player. Geralt plays for “the Witchers”. The two groups fight for ice time a lot. 

High School Teachers AU

Jaskier teacher choir or art. Geralt teaches History or Chemistry. All their students call them mom and dad. Ciri is their favorite. She is too smart for her classes so she hangs out with them after school and during lunch. They are oblivious and ciri is like “omg just kiss already!”

Pride and Prejudice AU

Its just pride and prejudice, but Jaskier is Lizzie and Geralt is Darcy. Geralt is emotionally constipated and cant handle his feelings so hes a dick instead. Basically just follows the plot of the book/movie and geralt proposes and gets turned down until he fixes himself. Georgiana is ciri she helps geralt win back jaskier.

Princess Bride AU

Jaskier is Buttercup and Geralt is wesley. Follows the movie kinda. Geralt is “killed” by the witcher then comes back pretending to be that to save jaskier from marriage to a shitty prince (valdo marx???).

The Little Mermaid AU

Jaskier is Ariel and Geralt is Eric. Jaskier is a mermaid who loves to watch people but some drowners (or ther water monster idk) is in the area he likes to watch and geralt gets knocked out saving jaskier who in turn saves him. He makes a deal to give up his voice to have legs so he can travel with geralt. Yennefer is Ursula i guess,,, idk.

Aladdin AU

Jaskier is Jasmine and Geralt is Aladdin. Jaskier hates being stuck in the palace and having to act like a royal. He sneaks out and geralt helps him escape some guard so he can play his lute in a market or something. Geralt is in love but doesnt think a prince would fall for him so he uses a potion or magic or something (yennefer helps??) to change his hair color and disguise himself as a prince. Takes jaskier for a ride on roach idk.

Falsettos AU

This is based off of falsettos the musical. Geralt and Yen divorce and geralt leaves to live with jaskier, but hes still trying to have a relationship with ciri and yen. I think triss would be marvin cause gay is always better. This doesnt have to be an exact copy of the story, but just an inspiration.

Theater AU

This would just be a one shot lol. i just think it would be funny. Jaskier is the lead actor and geralt is on crew. thats it lol.

Coffee Shop AU

Jaskier works as a barista at a little cafe and falls for the guy (geralt) who always come in and sits in the corner reading and only orders a plain black coffee. Jaskier is a gay disaster and his coworkers know it.

Disney World AU

Geralt brings ciri to disney world for a weekend and Jaskier is playing her favorite prince (idk which one just pick) and they go and visit him everyday they go.

Drag Queen AU

Jaskier is a drag queen at a club (goes by dandelion or buttercup) and geralt is the bouncer/security. Someone gives jaskier a hard time outside f the club after closing and geralt saves him and walks him home.

Public Transport Musician AU

Geralt takes the subway everyday and jaskier is always playing in the station. One time he gets on the train with geralt and they talk. Jaskier shares that on weekends he plays at a club and geralt goes and sees him.

Self Defense Lessons AU

Jaskier moves to a big city or something and wants to take self defense lessons and geralt is the instructor. Jaskier can not handle geralt pinning him down and straddling him.

Neighbors AU

Jaskier and Geralt live next to eachother in an apartment building. Jaskier is always knocking and asking for extra flower or help fixing something. At first geralt hates it but it becomes endearing and then one day geralt asks jaskier for help with something and thats when they get together. Yen and Triss live across the hallway and laugh as it goes down.

Mandalorian/Star Wars AU

Geralt is apart of a bounty hunter clan (the mandalorians/witchers) and is supposed to find a child and deliver it to some bad people (its ciri/baby yoda) but doesnt and adopts her. Jaskier come in at some point idk how tho.

Gym Training AU

Trans!Jaskier wants to get buff so he passes better and gets trained by geralt. thats it.

Role Reversal AU

Jaskier is a witcher (he still has a smaller frame. I think hes more of an assassin and more stealth based.) and Geralt is a moody musician (i dont think he sings) Somehow geralt gets tied up with one of jaskiers hits and that how they end up travelling together. Jaskier is jealous that geralt is still huge and jacked despite being a musician.

Gender Bend AU

I just want a big muscly lesbian geralt. Jaskier is a cottage core lesbian. otherwise nothing changes.

You’ve Got Mail AU

Jaskier owns a smaller bookstore thats going to be swallowed up by witcher co. books. Just follows the movie plot. I read a really good youve got mail au fic a long time ago and i want more.

Fake Relationship AU

This is honestly my favorite au and ive yet to see it in the witcher fics. Jaskier lied to his family that hes in a relationship so that theyd stop trying to set him up, but they come to visit so he has to get Geralt to pretend to be his boyfriend. or Jaskier gets a chance to go to a resort or on a cruise and play for the guests but its a married couples only thing so he brings geralt along and they have to pretend to be a happy married couple. Triss and Yen are there and onto them the whole time.

Soulmate AU

i havent seen any witcher fics with a classic soulmate au. there is plenty to pick from. One could be matching birthmarks and jaskier ( or geralt) figures out that the other has the matching birthmark but is scared to tell cause “witchers cant feel”

Mechanic AU

Jaskier keeps “accidentally” breaking things so the hot mechanic will come fix it.

Circus AU

geralt is a strong man or “beast” tamer and jaskier is some artsy shit idk. Concept: jaskier is a trapeze artist and he sings while he does it so hes the “song bird”. Yen can be a fortune teller or some shit.

PLEASE let me know if you right a fic going off of these or if you find one similar to one of them that youd think id like. Im shit at writing myself, but im a pretty ok editor so let me know if you need a beta reader

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Lyutsifer Safin X Fem!Reader Cute and caring prompt with light, brief angst

!TW: Implied nudity!

“Safin-” You fell quiet when you noticed that he was talking to his workers outside, and you felt bad for interrupting him, rubbing your arm, before you folded the piece of paper back up. Safin’s gaze drifted to the piece of paper, before it returned to your eyes. “I’m sorry, I - I’ll go back inside-”

Safin shook his head quickly, slowly advancing closer to you. “Please, don’t leave, angel,” he interrupted, and you stopped, turning to face him. “What is on that piece of paper?” Safin inquired, curious.

“I was just doodling, thinking about what our little girl might look like,” you answered, before you unfolded the paper to show him.

Safin smiled softly as he looked over the drawings, before he glanced up at you, a warm twinkle in his eye. “I can’t wait to see her, angel,” he expressed, before he placed his hand on your cheek, “she’s going to be beautiful, like you.” You smiled softly, a faint blush forming on your cheeks. You then leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his lips, before you rushed back inside so he could continue talking to his workers.

𖧷☭𖤍

Safin would be shocked to find you standing in the shallow pool of water outside during the night, and he rushed down the steps. “Have you lost your mind!?” Safin shouted, and you would be startled, turning to face him. “It - It’s not safe, Y/n,” he stated, and you shrugged.

“Your workers said it was, now,” you answered, but he wouldn’t listen, he just attempted to drag you out of the water. “Why can’t you just let yourself have some fun, for once?” You asked, trying to pry your arm from his grasp, but he was too strong.

“Fun isn’t messing around in a pool which could easily be polluted by poisonous particles, Y/n,” he muttered, and you gave in, letting him pull you inside.

𖧷☭𖤍

“You’re the only one I trust to do this, Obruchev,” he stated; he wanted Valdo to ensure that the workers were kept in line on the day of his and your wedding.

Valdo nodded, and winced at the same time; he felt as if it was too much pressure. “I - I don’t know, Mr. Safin,” he responded, “I don’t want to ruin the wedding if anything goes wrong - I don’t think you should put me in charge-”

“That’s a shame,” Safin interrupted, “because I wasn’t asking.” Valdo nodded, bowing his head respectfully as if to ask Safin for forgiveness. “Just do your job,” he uttered, and Valdo nodded again.

“Of course, Mr. Safin,” he replied, before he returned to his work when Safin left the laboratory.

𖧷☭𖤍

You and Safin silently walked alongside each other; he’d finally agreed to go outside of the base with you. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he murmured, breaking the silence, prompting you to grin and giggle softly. You would be startled when you heard a motorbike revving, and you tripped up, scaring Safin as he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, stopping you from falling. You whimpered, turning to face Safin so you could cling to his blue coat. When the guard on the motorbike saw Safin, he drove off; he’d thought that someone was trying to invade the base, or that you were trying to escape. Safin attempted to comfort you by hugging you; you were trying to recover from the small shock you’d had. “You’re safe now,” he whispered gently, relocating his hand to the back of your head, “I’ve got you, angel.” Safin held you at arm’s length, his greyish blue eyes searching your’s. “This is why it’s better to stay in the base,” he stated, and you grunted, shaking your head.

“No, I just - I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you responded, “it won’t happen again. I’ll - I’ll be used to hearing motorbikes here and there now.” Safin held back an internal grunt; he wanted to return you safely to the base, but at the same time he didn’t want to upset you. You then held his hand, pulling him in the direction of a clearing which looked like a petite beach. You got excited when you felt the sand beneath your shoes, and Safin held back, watching you with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You then turned to face him, smiling widely as if you were a child again. “Would you want to go into the sea with me?” You asked, and Safin would be taken aback by the question, wincing. “Please,” you begged, “we - we don’t have to go in very far.”

Safin sighed heavily, wondering why he always agreed to do these things for you. “Just once,” he stated, and you cheered, excited as you took off your shoes and socks, and Safin did the same, warily.

Once you’d both undressed enough, you pulled him down to the sea. You wouldn’t waste any time as you waded a little deeper, turning to face him; he appeared nervous, though he wasn’t sure why; he recalled that he and his siblings liked to come down to this beach, and they would often go into the sea together, but now he was afraid of it. “Come on in, Safin!” You encouraged, giggling as you splashed around; you’d not gone to the beach in a long time. “The sea won’t bite you,” you stated, and Safin would soon feel embarrassed, lowering his head slightly. You expressed concern for him, wading up to him. “Safin,” you spoke gently, “are you okay?” Safin wouldn’t respond, he just forced a smile at you, nodding, before he followed you into a slightly deeper part of the sea.

𖧷☭𖤍

Safin had remembered that your birthday was coming up, and he’d arranged for one of his workers to leave the base to get you a present; he’d spent almost a whole night thinking about what you might want, before he remembered that you liked poetry and flowers, especially daisies and orchids, so he sent the worker away to find a good looking poetry book, and some orchids, before he arranged for another to find daisies. Once the workers came back with the items, he arranged nicely the orchids and the daisies in a special vase, before he carefully wrapped the two poetry books up in a silky material with flowery patterns on it. When the morning of your birthday came, he decided to wake you up, excited to show you your gifts. “Wakey, wakey, angel,” he spoke gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You would be surprised, groaning as you turned to face him. “What’s going on?” You asked him sleepily, and he smiled softly, finding you adorable as you were struggling to wake up properly, clearly.

“I got you presents,” he answered, and you would express confusion, forgetting that it was your birthday.

“Why?” You questioned, and he would lift his eyebrows slightly; he couldn’t believe you’d forget about your own birthday.

“It’s your birthday today,” he reminded you, and you winced when you realised, embarrassed. “How could an angel forget about it’s own birthday?” Safin inquired, and you rubbed your eyes, before you yawned, trying to wake yourself up. “Get dressed,” he commanded softly, “I want to show you your gifts.” Safin then stood up from the bed, leaving you alone in the room so you could get dressed.

↯

Once you’d finished throwing on whatever clothes you could find, you left the room to go and check on Sylvia; you wanted to make sure that she was okay, before you left to go and find Safin. You would be taken aback when you walked into the main room; the workers had tidied up and tried to decorate it for you; you assumed that Safin had commanded them to as they wouldn’t do it without any instruction; most of his workers still didn’t like you very much. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered, amazed as you walked further into the room.

“You like it, angel?” Safin assumed, and you turned to face him, smiling sheepishly at him.

“You didn’t need to do this for me,” you responded, before you threw your arms around him; he made you feel so special.

Safin shook his head, holding you at arm’s length. “I did,” he contradicted, “I wanted to make your special day - extra special.”

“Thank you so much, Safin,” you replied, pulling him into a hug again, and he returned it, smiling warmly as he liked to see you happy.

𖧷☭𖤍

Safin leaned against the doorframe of Sylvia’s room; he couldn’t believe how fast she was growing. You were playing a game with Sylvia, and he couldn’t help, but smile as he watched. When Sylvia noticed Safin, she squeaked, excited as she got up and ran over to him, hugging his leg. “Come and play with us, daddy!” Sylvia squealed, leading him over to you.

Safin crouched down when Sylvia’s tiny hand let go of his, and you smiled warmly over at him. “What are we playing?” Safin inquired, and you answered for Sylvia as she was still struggling to say the words properly.

“Rock paper scissors,” you answered, and Safin grinned, looking to Sylvia.

“Care to teach me how to play, Sylvie?” Safin offered, and Sylvia got excited again, nodding as she attempted to relay the rules of the game to him.

𖧷☭𖤍

Safin, with great reluctance, agreed to go outside of the base again with you, but he regretted it instantly when it began to rain down heavily upon the island. “We should go back-” Safin would be surprised when he noticed that you seemed to be enjoying the rain as you let your head tilt back so it could land on your face. “What are you doing?” Safin asked, worried that you’d get a cold as he pulled you close to him, prompting you to lower your head so your eyes could meet his.

“What?” You responded, tilting your head partially at him. Safin winced when he heard thunder rumbling nearby, and he began to take off his blue coat; he couldn’t let you catch a cold as he didn’t want you to suffer in any way.

Safin draped his coat over your shoulders, looking around warily, before he began to lead you in the direction of the base. “What do you mean ‘what’, angel?” Safin uttered; he couldn’t believe you. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm, and you really want to stop and feel the rain? You could catch a bad cold, Y/n,” he scolded, and you groaned, annoyed.

“It’s just nice to stop and feel the rain sometimes,” you murmured, and Safin sighed heavily, shaking his head in disagreement with you.

𖧷☭𖤍

You had been searching for Safin as Sylvia had been asking for him, but when you’d finally found him outside sitting on one of the concrete steps, you noticed that he seemed down. You set Sylvia down on the ground, crouching down in front of her for a moment. “Why don’t you go and play with Uncle Valdo for now, Sylvie?” You suggested, and Sylvia reluctantly agreed, running off to find Valdo; you tried not to worry about letting her run off, reminding yourself that Safin had told Valdo to stay upstairs whilst Sylvia was awake, in case she had to go and play with him if you or Safin were busy. You then returned your attention to Safin, sitting on the step beside him. “Hey,” you broke the silence, placing your hand on his. “What’s wrong?” You inquired, and Safin briefly glanced up at you, before he lowered his head again.

You frowned; you’d noticed the tear stains on his cheeks. “You and Sylvia are too good for me,” he answered, his voice quiet and barely audible.

You shook your head, turning your body more to face him. “That’s not true, Safin-”

“It is,” he snapped, surprising you as you fell quiet, “I’ve - I’ve hurt you so many times..”

“That’s in the past now, Safin,” you assured, wishing he’d forget about it, and focus on the present. “You’d never hurt me, now,” you stated, and he nodded slowly, looking up at you again. “I love you, Safin,” you added, “you know that, right?” Safin nodded again, smiling weakly at you. You wrapped your arms around him, and he returned the hug, feeling better instantly.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

[seanfalco]

A Matter of Honor

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Feral!Valdo Marx x Reader Word Count: 2247 Rating: T Tag List: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats​ @nevadawolfe​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @coffee-and-stories​ @whatevermonkey​

a/n: Kat asked begged for some Feral!Valdo after reading my headcanons so I had to oblige :3  Takes place after this fic.  I just hope this lives up to the idea I have in my head;;

Traveling with Valdo had been like nothing you had ever dreamed and you were even beginning to understand why your brother enjoyed his own adventures so.  You were seeing so much; experiencing so much.  

And while the fancy parties Valdo was invited to perform at were exciting and romantic -- the sumptuous food and drink, the music, the dancing, the decadent outfits -- it was the simple quiet moments that were your favourites.  Those moments when you got to see Valdo for the man behind the flamboyant persona, somehow gentler than you could imagine him.

No longer were these moments stolen; ending much too soon for your taste, but they were unpredictable, sneaking up on you when you least expected them.  And though you had already fallen for him, it was in these moments that you knew it was more than just some passing fancy, and you marveled that it truly was possible to fall more in love with someone every day.

So when you walked into the latest noble’s ball on Valdo’s arm, decked to the nines, how could you have guessed that by the end of the night you’d grow to love him even more?

—

“You look especially stunning tonight [Y/N],” Valdo purred in your ear as he led you to the main hall.  “I fear I shall be so distracted by your luminous beauty while I am performing that I shall certainly forget all the words to all the songs,” he bemoaned dramatically, though his lips curled into an amused grin.  

“Perhaps you should only sing of me then,” you suggested, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Valdo hummed, clearly pleased.  “Perhaps I shall.”

Your heart gave a flutter as his lips brushed the back of your hand, his green eyes intent on your face before he straightened, throwing you a wink as he turned, making his way to the head of the room to greet the host.

Taking a seat, you settled in to listen to Valdo’s performance, glancing around you at the other nobles in attendance; trying to see if there were any familiar faces.  There were a few hushed murmurs around you, but most of them fell away as Valdo began to play; his fingers nimbly plucking the notes of a song you were familiar with as one of your beloved’s favourites and you lost yourself in his voice for a time, smiling as his eyes met yours.

It was during the next song that a pair of voices, not far from you, caught your attention and you glanced around to determine who was so rudely spoiling the moment.  A man and woman, glittering in layers of gold and velvet, seated several chairs from you leaned in conspiratorially, their rather loud whispers carrying and you half wondered if they wanted to be overheard; their eyes suspiciously flashing over to you more than once.

“Have you seen the bard’s latest muse?”  The woman asked, a touch of scorn in her hushed voice.

“Ah yes, the pretty little thing that swaned in on his arm tonight.  Isn’t she the daughter of some minor nobility?”  The man asked and you held your breath, knowing for certain now that they were talking about you.

This had become somewhat of a regular occurrence, for no matter where Valdo traveled whispers inevitably followed and now that you were connected to him, you’d swiftly become a favourite subject of gossip.  Usually you could tune it out, knowing the words they spoke were usually borne of jealousy, but this time they’d brought up your family.

“Yes,” the woman replied, glancing around surreptitiously.  “I can’t believe she left their family estate in the hands of her playboy brother to go gadding about with Valdo Marx…” here she paused to watch Valdo for a moment and sighed.  “Well, I suppose I don’t blame her, but really the girl obviously has no sense.  I wonder how long it will take him to tire of her.”

“Isn’t her brother the fellow who throws all those extravagant parties nearly every other week?  I believe I’ve been to a couple of them.”

The woman nodded primly.  “The very same.  I gather within the next few months their estate will be penniless, mark my words.”

Her haughty tone filled you with barely concealed rage -- how dare they talk about your brother like that?  Sure he had his flaws, but he was a good man and you knew for a fact that he was no longer throwing these parties; trying his damndest to be the responsible elder brother you’d always hoped he’d be.

“If they were my children it goes without saying that I’d be disappointed.  They have so much and yet they squander it away.  Perhaps it’s a blessing after all that their parents are gone, so they don’t have to see what their family name is coming to,” the man intoned solemnly and you felt like you’d been kicked in the gut.

“Oh quite right you are,” the woman agreed, “they’re probably turning in their graves right now…”

The casual callous way these two strangers spoke about your deceased parents -- like they knew anything about your family disgusted you.  It was a slap in the face, and though you knew none of it was true you felt shame grip you, twisting your stomach.  You didn’t even realize there were tears in your eyes until they spilled down your cheeks.  

Jealous pettiness you could stomach, but not this.  Without thinking you stood abruptly and hurried from the room before anyone else could see the tears running down your face.

—

Valdo watched you rush from the room with a frown, his brows drawing together, and it took every ounce of self control he owned not to simply chase after you during the middle of his set.  He eyed the crowd as he sang, noticing the way the couple not far from where you’d been sitting shifted, glancing over as you’d left the room before putting their heads together once more.

His eyes narrowed and he plucked at the strings of his lute with more force than necessary; anger and worry gripping him -- for surely something must have happened for you to flee like that.  As he finished the song, Valdo abruptly bowed deeply to the audience, cutting his set short despite calls for more songs.  Stalking the halls he searched for you and when he finally found you, tucked away into a tiny alcove, tears streaking your face, he felt he could finally breathe again, though the sight of you only made his worry spike.

“[Y/N],” he exclaimed, hooking a finger gently under your chin and tilting your face up to brush the tears from your cheeks.  “What happened?”

The tightness around his bottle green eyes was so at odds with the tenderness of his touch and voice that you lost your words for a moment, gaping at him.

“It’s foolish really,” you insisted, voice still thick from your sobs.  

Valdo shook his head.  “If it upset you this much, it’s far from foolish.”  Pulling an expensive looking silk handkerchief from his pocket he gently dabbed at your eyes, his touch so soft.  “Did someone, perchance, say something?” he asked pointedly, his gaze finding yours, and you knew you might as well tell him.

“Not directly to me,” you mumbled, your lips twitching into a frown.  “But I overheard… and I think they meant for me to.”

“Go on,” Valdo urged patiently, though anger simmered dangerously in his chest, just below the surface.

“They badmouthed my family.  Insinuated I was selfish for leaving with you and that my brother was going to ruin our house.  They even brought my parents into it…”  Your words were cut short by another choked sob and Valdo quickly pulled you into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest as he held you close, stroking your hair and back soothingly.  He didn’t know the specifics of your parents’ untimely deaths, but he knew it was still a tender subject and that you missed them very much.  

His anger sharpened.

“I’ve never done anything for myself before,” you murmured, sniffling.  “Was it truly selfish for me to run away with you?”  Your voice sounded so small and when you lifted your face to look up at him, he frowned slightly.  

“No love,” he whispered, a quiet fierceness filling his words, “you are the farthest thing from selfish.  Me on the other hand...”  He trailed off, taking a steadying breath before pulling back to place a firm kiss on your forehead, squeezing you tighter for a moment. 

“Why don’t you head back to our room and get comfortable.  I’ll be there shortly, but there’s something I need to attend to first.”

“Attend to?” you asked, peering up at him.

“Don’t you worry about it, songbird.  Just... bardly duties, you know.  I have to be seen mingling for a proper amount of time.”

Skeptical, but really just looking forward to putting the evening behind you, you nodded, sniffling.  “Alright, I’ll see you soon?” you asked hopefully, wanting nothing more than his presence, uninterrupted.

“Yes, this shouldn’t take long darling.”

As soon as you disappeared around the corner, making your way back to your shared chamber for the night, Valdo’s expression hardened, his green eyes flashing.  Turning on his heel, the half cape hanging off his shoulder flaring with a flourish, he stalked off in search of the two who had dared to make you cry.

It wasn’t hard to find the couple, the Duke and Duchess of some minor Duchy, their simpering smiles only serving to temper his fury further into a cold hard thing; sharp and swift, and he wondered if they had any idea what they’d done or if they were truly as clueless as they looked.  Plastering a hollow grin on his face Valdo approached, bowing slightly and taking the Duchess’s hand to press a kiss to.

“My Lord, my Lady,” he greeted and the Duchess’s face lit up at his presence while he fought to keep his smile from slipping, though it never touched his eyes.  

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Master Marx?” The Duke asked, his words somewhat strained; clearly displeased with the appreciative way his wife eyed the slim bard.

Valdo’s smile sharpened dangerously and he stepped closer, almost conspiratorially, and the Duchess’s eyes lit up with interest.  “You see I’ve just heard something rather shocking that I’m afraid concerns the two of you,” he said, his voice dropping along with his grin.

“O-oh?”  The Duchess’s ridiculous smile slipped at his tone and she reached for the necklace hanging at her throat out of habit.

“It really is impolite to sling unfounded judgemental accusations around, especially within earshot of those you’re so rudely gossiping about.  If you have a problem with me, well I could certainly care less; gossip is an occupational hazard in my line of work, but when you bring my lovely muse into it…”  He spread his hands apologetically and as the two gaped at him, their mouths working silently in an attempt to find the words to backtrack gracefully he slipped a slim dagger from the seam of his doublet, it’s razor thin edge pressed to the Duke’s side.

The man flinched, stiffening as he realized what was happening.  “Are you th-threatening us?” he demanded, spluttering indignantly.  “Do you have any idea who we are?”  His eyes flashed with fear as he kept glancing down at the dagger pressed to his skin.  To any passerby the three merely looked as though they were having a close conversation, not even noticing the blade in the bard’s hand and Valdo pressed it closer, a sadistic thrill passing through him as the man’s eyes bulged further and a small patch of red soaked through his shirt.

“Let me make myself succinctly clear,” Valdo bit out, his usual drawl falling away as cold anger filled his voice, his eyes flicking between the two.  “Spread such slanderous drivel about my [Y/N] again, and I will ruin you.”

“Bold words from a bard,” the Duke spat, though he flinched again and the Duchess looked on wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open like a codfish.

“And do you not realize how much sway I hold?”  Valdo retorted, a cruel smile twisting his lips.  “I hold the ear of those much more powerful than you, I assure you -- scores of important players that can make your life a living hell until your titles are empty and your reputation is shit.  Or, if you prefer, a dagger in the back before you even knew it was there…” Valdo shrugged, stroking his goatee with his free hand.  “Just remember this warning the next time you decide to flap your mouths about things you aught not to be.”

The Duchess nodded emphatically, her jewels jostling loudly as her husband swallowed audibly.  “Y-yes, we’ll remember.”

“Fabulous,” Valdo exclaimed, his usual rakish smile returning, though his emerald eyes still flashed darkly, a reminder that he more than meant his words.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very lovely woman waiting for me in my chambers.  Cheers.”

Without a backward glance Valdo strode away, tucking his dagger back into its hiding place with ease.  Did he go a little far?  Perhaps, but it was worth it to see the panicked look on the Duke and Duchess’s faces.  Besides, there was no ‘too far’ when it came to his love or her honour.

[yespolkadotkitty]

Hi, hi! I love your work and wanted to ask about some of your favorite writers and fics! For spreading the love and also, selfishly, to fill up my long weekend lol

Thank you ever so much, little grey face! OK, so you haven’t said which fandom(s), so I’m going to dive right in and give you a smorgasbord of just some of my absolute favourites.... Buckle Up.

Fairy Dust by @di-kut - perhaos my favourite EVER sex pollen fic. Ezra x reader. Buckle up for this one. You’ll need a change of underwear, but it’s also touching and lyrically penned.

Perfection by @nildespirandum. Thomas Sharpe x OFC. Oh gosh. This epic fic will live in my memory forever. A fantastic OFC and Thomas is SO vivid.

Suits and Stilettos by @aims777 - Kylo Ren x Rey. Oh God. I binged this, it’s SO engrossing and amazingly told. I love the representation of the A/B/O universe here.

Traffic @just-the-hiddles. She will tell you that I have literally NOT SHUT UP about this fic since we met. Frustrated Tom, naked Tom, Tom being sexy over the phone to you. I still re-read this from time to time. Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Reckless by @keeper0fthestars - an excuse to fuck Javier on the hood of his car. Very hot, sensual, and each word chosen carefully. Sort-of roleplay as well which is HOT. Bring a change of underwear. Javier Peña x reader.

Another Man’s Shoes by @truthisademurelady. Forever TV fandom, Henry Morgan x Jo Martinez. Henry and Lucas bodyswap while having to solve a murder and trying to hide the secret from their family and friends. I was so hungry for each update of this and I still re-read it from time to time.

Daily Disasters by @concavepatterns . Darcy x Loki. Tasertricks is one of my favourite pairings and Connie is the MASTER of dialogue, fluff, snark and slow burn.

Somewhere Between by @awriterthatwrites (on AO3). Ichabod Crane x Abbie Mills, set after Abbie’s return from the catacombs. Heartbreaking and gently penned.

Look But Don’t Touch by @valdomarx. Geralt x Jaskier, filthy one shots. Valdo is the RULER of Geraskier and she does it with red-hot smut and then whacks you over the head with more feelings than you know what to do it.

Quriosity by @dr_girlfriend (on AO3). Oh God. This fic ate my life for at least three days. Q and Bond are such a good pairing in this and Q’s voice is spot on; I could constantly hear Ben Whishaw and Daniel Craig in my head.

Yes, Ma’am by @spacegayofficial. Tori is FANTASTIC at Whiskey and this is no exception. loved the dialogue and sub!Whiskey lives in my heart forever. Agent Whiskey (Kingsman) x Reader

Curriculum Vitae by @tiffdawg . Professor!Javier is EVERYTHING I WANT in a man. The story is engrossing and I binged 7 chapters before I remembered I was late for an appt.

Digging Up Bones by @songsformonkeys. I think, to date my favourite Whiskey fic. SFM’s wriitng is measured and enchanting. I would also give A LOT for Whiskey to call me Moonshine in that drawl. Whiskey x Reader.

We Were Warriors by @copperdead . THE BEST Triple Frontier fic, like, EVER. The slow burn between Pope and William is the stuff I can only dream of writing. All the boys get their moment in the sun and Pope and Will babysitting Catfish’s kids made me sigh with bliss. Santi Pope x Will Miller.

Rough Day by @no-droids. I don’t know how to put my love for this fic into words. Mando’s voice is spot on, the kid is SO ADORABLE, the FEELINGS are so intense and the smut is hotter than the sun. The world-building is DIVINE and I was sucked into this fic from chapter 1. Reader is brave and creative, and the way she and Din dance around their feelings while sexing each other raw is just... Just read this. You will not regret it ever. The dialogue is well plotted and relatable. I fell hopelessly in love with this writer’s Din Djarin when I wasn’t even halfway through this fic.

Right  WELL I AM OUT OF TIME NOW but there are at least twenty other fics I didn’t get around to shouting out. May I recommend the following: @fishcustardandclintbarton @hopelessromanticspoonie @littlefreya @ly--canthrope @murdermewithbooks @fleetwoodmactshirt @dindjarindiaries and there are so many more and I love you all.

PSA: where possible when I refer to writers in the 3rd person I have checked blogs to see which pronouns are preferred but I apologise unreservedly if I have messed up.

[angst-fairygodmother]

@ficsandcatsandficsandcats since this is a part 2 of your request I’m tagging you in it. I give up on trying to reblog it onto its original post; this blue hellsite wins. A/N: “*Cries in Douche Prince*” you say? Well, part two is more prince than douche I think, but we all know Valdo is a soft, goopy marshmallow deep, deeeeeeep down. Word Count: 1770

“We could egg the place?” Valdo suggested as he buttered a slice of toast.

“That would make it my problem too,” you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself a cup of tea.

“We could egg her car?” He reached around you to grab the milk, shoulder bumping yours jokingly.

“She doesn’t have a car. She takes the bus or carpools everywhere. Or gets me to drive.”

“I’ll hide in the bushes and egg her on her way to her next date with this guy.” He gestured at you with a jam-covered spoon as he spoke, grinning like it was the best idea he’d ever had.

“Why do you want to egg someone or something so badly?” you laughed.

“I don’t know. You see it in the movies and it just seems like the thing to do. I’ve always wanted to egg something in revenge. She doesn’t deserve something with effort to get back at her.”

You found yourself glancing up at the ceiling as if asking the universe what you had done to get saddled with such an idiot for a best friend, or worse to be cursed into falling in love with him.

“Fine, no eggs. What’s your idea then?”

“Suffer through the next seven months,” you said scrunching your face in annoyance. “Hope she breaks up with the guy or is willing to be the one to break lease to get away from me.”

“There’s no arguing you out of that is there?” He sighed, sagging against the counter as you shook your head stubbornly. “You deserve better you know.”

“She’s my friend. Things are just weird lately, it’s not…it doesn’t really…she doesn’t mean it.” You cringed at how much your tone sounded like you were trying to convince him, or yourself and even more at the knowing quirk of his eyebrow.

“Let me drive you to work?” he offered, pointedly changing the subject.

You smiled at him. “That’d be great.”

~

You stepped off the bus, feeling better about everything now that you had some distance and walked down the block toward your building. A pile of boxes on the porch made your heart lurch. Deciding to ignore them until you’d had a chance to talk with Karla (and not wanting to pry in case they weren’t your things), you tensed your shoulders and walked past.

When you reached the third floor, you frowned at your door. Something seemed off but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it, until you tried your key and found that it would not fit in the doorknob.

Your fist pounded on the cheerful blue polymer, fuming while you waited. When Karla opened the door, she took one look at your face and stepped out into the hall, arms crossed over her chest defensively.

“What the hell?” you snapped.

“I had the super change the locks,” she said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I got that. Why?”

“This living arrangement isn’t working. And you have like, a higher paying job or whatever so you can find a new place easier than I can. I told you last night that I was going to do it. I figured since you didn’t come back you didn’t care.”

“You can’t just kick me out of our shared apartment and have the locks changed while I’m at work!”

“Well I did. I’ll talk to the leasing company, totally take the blame, if you just…go.”

“You’re being completely unreasonable,” you sighed, all of the anger leaving you in a rush. “Look if you really don’t want to live together we can work something out but can you please let me back in until then?”

“Nope. The boxes downstairs are your clothing and stuff that you probably need sooner than later, and I mean if you want to come by with movers or whatever to get the rest of your stuff that’s cool, just let me know when.”

“Karla, come on.”

She shrugged again. “Sorry, Y/N.”

~

You thought the day could not leave you more shocked, until Valdo came walking around the corner.

“So that’s taking a bus huh?” he asked, shoving his sunglasses back up so they vanished into his messy curls. “Novel.”

“Who are you and what have done with Valdo Marx?” you teased as you carried over the first of your boxes to place in the trunk of your sedan.

“Don’t worry, I hated it and will not be doing that ever again,” he joked back, grabbing a second.

His smile dropped as he saw your lip wobble in barely-contained emotion. Quickly he wrapped you in a hug.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

You scoffed. “I just got kicked out of my apartment and will probably be sleeping in my car until I can find a new one. It doesn’t exactly feel like that right now.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. Just move in with me.” He waved it off like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What?”

“It’s not perfect, I know, but it’s a sight better than being technically homeless.”

“You’re serious?” you stared at him incredulously.

He shrugged. “Yeah, why not. We’ll have to work out a schedule for who gets the bed and who gets the couch, but there are worse arrangements. It’ll be one big sleepover.” He grinned at you as he hefted another box.

“We’re not working out a couch sleeping schedule,” you said, stuffing the last box in and slamming your trunk shut.

“Fine, fine. I shall be a gentleman and let you have the bed.”

“I’m not kicking you out of bed either.” He smirked and waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively and you blushed at your accidental innuendo.

“Guest sleep on couches,” you explained. “This situation is why the term couch-surfing was invented.”

“We’ll fight it out later,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “It can be our first big roomie argument, which you definitely won’t win. For now, let’s get food.”

“Pizza?” you offered.

“Sounds good. You’re buying.”

You stuck your tongue out and shoved him teasingly. “Jerk.”

~

You felt yourself drifting off as you leaned against Valdo and he belted out all six parts of “Cell Block Tango” (or tried to anyway). You jerked back awake, again, and then heard the sound of a remote clacking onto the coffee table and silence fell over the room.

“Oh, I’m sorry Y/N, am I boring you?” he pouted.

You tried to assure him that of course not but the words blended into a huge yawn.

“I’m sorry Valdo, I know we said marathon and this is only the second movie but…”

“It’s been a long day? You’re a lightweight after two glasses of wine?” he rested his cheek on his fist on his folded knee. “You find me terribly dull?”

You stuck your tongue out at him impishly, mind sleep-fogged enough that you couldn’t formulate an appropriately cutting response, and fought back another yawn.

He chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “Alright, to bed with you. We’ll resume right here in the morning.”

“If I’m going to sleep, you need to leave. Your bony ass is currently occupying half my bed.”

“Excuse me! I am sitting right where I’ll be sleeping and you are going up the hall to the proper one. And I am not bony! It’s called lithe.”

You scowled at him. And then your exhausted mind came up with an idea and you blurted it out before you could think it through.

“You have basically the biggest mattress in existence. There is no reason we can’t sleep together.”

“Watch those words angel,” he said, voice low but with surprising softness. “A less chivalrous man might take them the wrong way.”

“Or the right one,” you muttered, flushing and immediately grateful that he had (at least seemingly) not heard as he busied himself cleaning up from your movie night.

~

After a few minutes of awkward shuffling and blanket sharing negotiation, the pair of you finally settled into the bed together. You found yourself staring at his peacefully resting face in the darkness and had the overwhelming urge to reach out, to bury your fingers in his curls and kiss him and be held by him.

“Valdo?” you whispered, not wanting to wake him but equally unable to contain the feeling.

“Yes, Y/N?” he cracked an eye open with a raised eyebrow to look at you.

You took a deep breath. “Will…will you kiss me?”

You could have cut the silence that fell between you, suffocating and foreboding. Just when you were beginning to think you couldn’t take it anymore, he sighed.

“Y/N, you have no idea how much I want to say yes right now. But,” he reached out to stop you gently when you shifted closer, “it’s been a long day, and you’ve been through a lot and are emotionally vulnerable and I won’t…I can’t,” his voice broke on the word, “when I’m not absolutely sure, for both our sakes, that it’s not just a balm to soothe that ache.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at him, choking up at the gentle passion in his tone as he continued.

“And more than that, I have been drinking and you have had a few glasses and I can hardly think straight with you so close to me and you have always said that we shouldn’t do anything important impaired.”

“It figures,” you interrupted, sighing in mostly mock frustration. “You finally start listening to me at the most inopportune moment.”

“If you ask me that again tomorrow…” he did not want to admit how easily he would surrender to your every request.

“Will you at least hold me then? Please?”

He smiled and pulled you in, tangling around you as if you were built to fit together. The embrace was full of promise for long discussions and change and tenderness. You smiled softly as you buried your face in the hollow of his throat, falling asleep surrounded by his familiar smell and the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

If in the morning, you woke up alone and walked out to find him folded awkwardly under a single thin blanket on the couch, in front of an email to an old friend in Transit Authority which contained a promise of an elaborate steak dinner in return for revocation and banning of your ex-roommate’s bus pass, it was a sight so oddly enduring that you would treasure forever. And if he secretly noticed you press ‘send’ before moving to the kitchen to prepare a pancake wake-up call and it warmed his heart, he would certainly never tell.

[whitewolfandthefox]

12,and 14 for dialogue prompts with geralt and friend reader?

Dialogue 12: “I miss moments like this more than anything.”

Dialogue 14: “You were meant to be watching him!”

Warnings: fluff, pure fluff, see guys? I can be nice

Words: ~2.2k

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Summary: Geralt x friend!reader, Jaskier x friend!reader. Geralt and Jaskier stop by after Jaskier sustains an injury. Chaos ensues.

The Witcher and the Lute

“Thank you,” you murmured as you were handed a hot mug, Geralt groaning as he lowered himself into a chair next to you. You chuckled as you watched him, tucked into your own chair on your porch, covered in a blanket. You sighed as you returned your attention to the sky, watching the colours that spread across it as the sun rose. You loved mornings like this, seeing the dew glisten on the grass as it slowly dried, the sun rays glancing off of them, the fog slowly lifting as the sun chased it away.

“It’s nice to just sit and watch the sunrise,” Geralt glanced over at you. “I don’t get to do this much anymore, Jaskier is not a morning person.” 

You giggled, “I like it every once in a while. The world is quiet and calm in the mornings, it’s a nice time to centre myself.” You rolled your head to look at him with a gentle smile. “I miss moments like this more than anything, just being able to spend the mornings with you.”

Geralt drew a hand down his face, looking weary. “I don’t.”

You had been woken last night by Geralt pounding on your door, dragging an injured Jaskier behind him. You had let them in without saying a word, working on Jaskier into the early hours of the morning. He was resting now, wrapped in blankets on your bed. He had taken a nasty fall and split his head open and the wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. Geralt had had to give him some of his blood clotting potion, which was toxic to humans in the long run. You had cleaned and stitched the wound and then spent hours fighting Jaskier’s fever down.

Now that he was sleeping peacefully, you and Geralt were resting on your porch with a hot drink. Your smile slowly slid off your face. “Yes, he really is clumsy, isn’t he. He’ll be ok though, Geralt. He’s just sleeping now.”

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement and the two of you fell quiet once more, the silence broken by the clucking of your chickens and the singing of the birds as they welcomed the start of a new day. A while later, once you had finished your drink, you set the mug aside and stood. You stretched, a groan leaving your lips as your joints popped, stiff from having sat either at Jaskier’s bedside or curled up in the chair for hours.

“I’m going to check on Jaskier quickly before I head into town. I used up the last of some of my herbs last night and I need them to make his next dose of medicine. I’ll take Charlie, but I’ll be a couple of hours yet. The markets should just be opening by the time I get there.” Folding the blanket, you set it on your chair. “I might just pick up his next dose while I’m there.”

Geralt grunted his acknowledgement, standing and making his way towards your stables. You knew he was going to saddle Charlie for you and make sure you had everything you needed for the short trip. Charlie was a bay horse that the Witcher had gifted to you, Roach had apparently been a female and pregnant when Geralt had gotten her. She gave birth in your stables and you had raised the foal by hand, Roach was always happy to see him when they came back. As for the name, well, Jaskier had chosen the name for the small horse, and no matter what you tried, it had stuck.

You refused to take payment from the Witcher for your services, even though he used them semi frequently. He had saved you from a monster several years back, and this was your way of repaying him. Geralt came by a couple of times a year, most often when he was injured, but you were glad to see him when he did. It sometimes got lonely, far away from the village as you were.

Checking on the bard, you smiled as you smoothed his hair away from his face, laying the back of your hand against his forehead. You frowned slightly, his temperature was still higher than you would have liked, but it was acceptable. You dipped a cloth into the bucket next to his bed before wringing it out and laying it on his forehead. Jaskier’s face relaxed further in his sleep at the touch of the cool cloth, a sigh escaping his lips. 

Satisfied, you turned and left the house, seeing Geralt standing with Charlie fully saddled and waiting for you. The horse danced, throwing his head in anticipation of the journey ahead. You thanked Geralt as you mounted, taking the reins into your gloved hands. 

“Keep an eye on him, Geralt, if you don’t mind. He may wake up soon and he will be disoriented from the medicines I gave him. Make sure he stays in bed and is resting, I don’t want his fever coming up anymore.” Geralt nodded in response and stepped back, allowing you to turn the horse’s head towards the village, watching until you turned a corner and were out of view.

**~*~*~*~**

Knowing you would be several hours until you were back, Geralt stuck his head inside to check on Jaskier before getting to work. He knew you wouldn’t take money as payment, but he could do some of your chores instead. Returning outside, he grabbed the ax sitting next to the woodpile and started splitting wood. After he finished that, he moved over to your chicken coop, fixing the hole that had been torn in it by a rogue coyote.

Chores completed, he brought Roach out of the stable and took her tack off, letting her roam as he worked on repairing her saddle and oiling the leather. That done, he moved on to grooming Roach herself, working the knots out of her mane and tail. He put Roach back into the stable before going inside, brushing himself off as he went. He called to the bard as he went, not wanting to surprise him if Jaskier was awake. Entering the room, he stopped short at the sight of the empty bed, blankets thrown to the ground.

“Fuck.”

**~*~*~*~**

You rode back into the clearing to find an odd sight waiting for you. Geralt was sitting in the middle of your lawn, banging on Jaskier’s lute as he loudly called the bard’s name, the combination of his rough voice and the off-tune music making a discordant sound that filled the small clearing. Dismounting, you tied Charlie to the hitching railing next to the stable before approaching the Witcher cautiously.

“Umm, Geralt?” The man in question jumped at your voice, obviously having been caught unawares. Your concern grew as you realized he hadn’t heard you approaching. “What are you doing?”

Halting his strumming, a sheepish look came over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm, I may have, umm, misplaced the bard?”

You stared at him. “You what?”

“Heh, I don’t know… where Jaskier… is.” The Witcher spoke haltingly as you slowly pale, not liking the expression that was slowly appearing on your face.

“You don’t know where he is.” 

“Ah, yeah, pretty much.”

You turned and marched towards the house as Geralt scrambled to his feet behind you. “Y/N?”

You whirled towards him, throwing your hands up in the air. “You were meant to be watching him! I left you with one job, Geralt, one job! Watch the bard! And you couldn’t handle that! Now I have to go find a sick Jaskier who has wandered off, and I have no idea where he would be.”

Turning back around, you continued towards the house to grab various healing supplies. As you went, you threw back over your shoulder, “Find him Geralt, or so help me, Melitle won’t be able to save you.”

You could hear the discordant sound of the Witcher and the lute started up again in the background, cursing to yourself under your breath as you went. You quickly searched the house, not finding the missing bard, before heading into the woods as Geralt continued playing in the clearing. You heard a cry of success as you returned to the clearing, the jarring sound of the lute continuing.

Exiting the trees, you allowed a small smile to form on your face as you saw Jaskier emerging from the trees, Geralt gently placing the lute on the ground as he strode towards the bard. A frown appeared on Jaskier’s face as he muttered something about needing to find his muse as he turned and walked back into the trees.

Geralt’s face turned frantic as the bard started to disappear, all but leaping back towards the instrument on the ground as he continued to play the lute. Jaskier turned back around again, coming further out of the trees, drawn by the sound of music. You snuck over to the bard, laughing as Geralt started backing towards the house, continuing to bang on the poor instrument. As you got closer, you could hear Jaskier muttering curses under his breath.

“That total sod, no idea how to play a lute properly. Should’ve done something about Valdo Marx when I got the chance, stupid talentless waste of a bard. No, not even a bard. Geralt, where did that djinn go? I need those wishes.”

Gently settling yourself underneath the bard’s arm, you took some of his weight as he continued to move towards the lute, and the house behind it. You got him settled in bed, handing him a potion to drink, promising to make Marx give him the lute once he drank it. As he drifted off to sleep again, you rounded on Geralt, narrowed eyes making the already pale man whither beneath your gaze.

You marched outside, not checking to make sure the Witcher was following, knowing that he would. You turned on him as you reached the centre of the clearing. “What the fuck, Geralt? Did you see what I meant? You left him alone and he got out!”

“Yes, but I also got him back.” The Witcher pointed out, hoping to calm you now that nothing bad had happened.

“Okay, but you also lost him in the first place! You wouldn’t have had to find him had you not lost him!” You threw your arms up, almost at your wit’s end with the stupidity of the pair. The dense idiot in front of you couldn’t figure out why you were mad in the first place. Sighing, you shook your head as you moved towards Charlie, intending to remove his saddle and rub the horse down before putting him back in the stable, done with Geralt’s antics.

As you were stripping the horse, you could feel Geralt approaching you. “I am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to forget about him, I just wanted to get some chores done for you.”

Again you sighed as you leaned your head against the horse. You seemed to be doing that a lot because of these two. “I know, Geralt. I just worry when you two get hurt.”

You felt a hand on your arm, allowing yourself to be pulled against the hard chest next to you as Geralt wrapped you in a hug. “I do my best to keep us in one piece, you know that. And when I can’t, we trust you to put us back together.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, leaning into him, allowing yourself to be soothed by his warmth and embrace. Remembering the scene you walked into, you started to giggle. You could feel Geralt pull back to look down at you, a confused expression on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“You, the lute, Jaskier.” You tried to get out, breathless as you dissolved into a full blown belly laugh, unable to speak in proper sentences. A sheepish grin crossed Geralt’s face as he realized what you were laughing about.

“Ah, I thought he would come for that. He never lets me touch that stupid thing, so I figured it would be the same even if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.” You could feel the vibrations against your cheek as he chuckled as well, happy now that he knew you weren’t mad at him and that Jaskier was safe.

You pulled back from him, wiping the tears of mirth from your eyes. “C’mon, you big lug, let’s go get dinner ready for when Jaskier wakes up again.”

The occasional chuckle left you as you walked, sensing Geralt catching up to you. “Thank you,” came the quiet sentence.

“Don’t mention it.” You swatted at him as you said this before falling silent. Your friendship had its ups and downs, but at the end of the day your small trio trusted each other without question. You would be sad when they left, but would look forward to the day they trundled back into your small yard once more. 

**~*~*~*~**

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The Dancer with Golden Earrings (Part 2)

Summary: The bard and the reader travel together, hoping to find a job once in Brugge. However, more they get to know each other more they’re afraid to part from one another;

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;

Word Count: 2k;

Warning: Slow burn? (or my attempt at it);

A/N: Here is the second part of “ The Dancer with Golden Earrings”, if you haven’t read it, here is Part 1. As always, feedback is appreciated. I hope you’ll like it. Love you all xoxo. 

The cool breeze of the morning caressed the leaves making them rustle and creating a peaceful melody. The sun was still faint behind the hills as the birds chirped before vanishing in the early lights of dawn. The only other sounds were a horse neighing and-

“No.” said a voice, sternly.

“Geralt come on!” Jaskier lowered his tone after seeing few people around him snap their heads toward him “She will travel alone!”

“The answer is still no”

The bard sighed “You weren’t so disappointed when you asked me to come with you”

“I did not ask you, you followed me”

“That’s because I knew you needed some company on your way to kill monsters” said Jaskier cheerfully pointing his finger to Geralt.

The witcher grumbled, quickly turned his head and came back to fix his bags on the saddle while the bard smile faded as he placed his fists on his hips. But Jaskier knew how to coax his friend, touching his inner protective side.

“So you are letting a young, unarmed woman wander these dark and dangerous forests, even knowing she’ll probably be at the mercy of some foglers, leshies or even giant centipedes?”

Geralt slowly made eye contact with him, a serious expression on his face. Bingo, thought Jaskier.

The witcher’s eyes glanced behind the bard’s shoulders were you stood saying farewell to the chamberlain, while giving him a respectful bow and a small smile.

Besides Jaskier constant ranting if he refused to let you come with them, he remembered how kindly and friendly you had greeted him, even after knowing he was a witcher. Moreover, Jaskier was right about all the forest’s creatures lurking around Cintra.

Geralt glanced back into Jaskier’s eyes and grumbled again.

“Fine.”

“I knew it! Lady Y/n, come here there’s a place for you on Roach”

“Nobody touches Roach, Jaskier!”

The first few hours of walking were occupied by the bard’s tales and by your interested comments in regard to those stories.

“And from that day, they all call him White Wolf, thanks to me” said Jaskier “I composed at least three ballads out of that”

“I’m sure they have been all very successful” you smiled watching your steps.

“Well, I can’t deny that” he smirked.

Laughing you looked up to the witcher, who was riding his horse ahead of you two.

“Oh, I still haven’t had the chance to thank you for letting me come with you” you mentioned while stepping over a fallen tree.

Geralt slightly turned his head to the side revealing his profile but not fully making eye contact with you.

“It was Jaskier’s idea” he simply said.

You turned to him and even if you weren’t sure, you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of redness on the bard’s cheeks.

“I thought this wasn’t the right place for wandering alone” he said with a nervous smile “Mostly for a lady”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered by his interest or… concern? No, it was probably an act of chivalry, you thought.

“This is wouldn’t be the first time that I travel alone, but I quite enjoy some company” you responded, winking at him.

Few days went by, you arrived in some small cities east of Cintra but luck was not by your side: no jobs, neither for you nor them, so you decided to head far east, hoping to find a better opportunity. To be honest, you were not mad at it. Geralt and Jaskier were an odd pair of travel companions as they sometimes made yourself ask how could they even be friends, due to their evident differences. Geralt was quiet most of the time, easily irked by the bard’s enthusiasm and his keen singing but they seemed to get along, nonetheless. Little did you know, they felt the same for you: Jaskier was always by your side, playing his lute or talking about new ideas he had for his ballads, happy to have found someone who gladly listened to him, meanwhile Geralt was delighted to have found some peace from the bard and not having to listen to him constantly.

All day went by and without even realizing it, the sun was already setting.

“We will stop here for tonight” Geralt dismounted, drawing his sword “I’ll find something to eat”

Placing your bag on the ground you watched as the witcher ventured into the forest. Finally, after a long day of walking, you sat down with a loud thud next to Jaskier.

“In just two days we will arrive in Brugge hopefully” you mentioned looking at the fire.

Jaskier seemed to think for an instant, then his face lit up.

“There’s the Spring Festival in Brugge!”

Both of you knew the annual festival always attracted many people and there was plenty of work for artists like you two.

“Oh, that’s true! I almost forgot it’s already spring time.” you squealed in excitement.

“If they want to listen to some good music and leave behind those old, awful ballads written by Valdo Marx, they cannot do it without me”

“A rival?”

“You can call him that. I prefer, pretentious pompous stuck-up minstrel”

“Uhh, I sense some bad blood” you chuckled “I have listened to those ballads and trust me there’s no competition” you assured placing your hand on the bard shoulder.

Jaskier’s lips curved in a genuine smile “Lady Y/n, you flatter me”

“Please, call me Y/n. Just Y/n”

“As you wish. We are already dropping the formalities”

You chuckled at his flirty comeback. After few days spent with him, you sort of got used to his antics and compliments, but you never got used to how those compliments made you feel.

“Let’s hope we have some luck this time”

“I’m confident we will find someone who’s looking for our service and not just any service. The best dancer around all the four kingdoms is coming their way. I’m sure you will find something” as soon as he finished the sentence a profound sense of sadness washed over him, even if he couldn’t quite understand why. Or maybe he could.

She will leave…, he thought. 

Why do I feel so upset about this? You knew it was just for some time, she has her life, someone to return to…

“What about you earrings?” he suddenly asked, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Well, you are known as “the dancer with golden earrings”, even if I prefer Y/n”

Giggling you glanced back at the fire “It’s a long story.”

“I love long stories.” he said, ready to listen to whatever you were going to say.

“But it’s also kinda sad…”

Jaskier instantly froze, worried to have touched a sore point “I mean if you want to tell it, if you don’t want to it’s ok-”

“Oh no no, it’s okay, it’s okay, it was a long time ago.” you lowered your glance “It all started when I was just a little girl. My parents were street artists, they traveled around the Continent trying to survive with just those little payments they received. My mother... she was so full of life, she loved to dance, she taught me all about it and my dad was a musician, together they performed in all four kingdoms. They were the happiest years of my life, but it didn’t last for too long… One day my parents were getting ready to go out on the street, just as every other day, when suddenly we heard screams from outside. I remember my mother screaming and shoving something in my pocket, I remember her tears, my father yelling to run away, my home burning down. What happened next is a just a confused and blurred memory, the only thing I remember is waking up in an unknown place, sobbing, asking where my parents were. One of my parents’ friend took my away and saved me, I could see the horror and the sorrow in her eyes while she told me I was now alone in the world. That day I lost everything, my parents, my home… the only thing I have are these earrings, that my mom gave me before dying. So, yeah, I travel alone more than you think”

Jaskier stood quiet for a bit, he just kept his eyes on you, then he simply murmured “I… I’m so sorry, Y/n”

You managed a small smile “I believe destiny has been cruel but I also think it has more plans for me. I know it”

When you turned your head toward him, Jaskier was glaring at you, silently.

“Do you believe in destiny Jaskier?”

Without breaking eye contact with you, he placed his hand on your knee tenderly.

“I do” his voice steady and clear.

You smiled.

The sun wasn’t up yet when you cracked your eyes open the next day. That would have been the last day of walk before arriving in Brugge even if you weren’t so happy about it. You knew that some coins could come in handy, but you couldn’t help but think you had to part from them. From him.

The day went by quickly as you tried to enjoy all the small things, even the bickering between Geralt and Jaskier, who never failed to make you laugh. When the sun eventually set, Geralt left as any other night to hunt, meanwhile you and Jaskier were left to light up the fire and set up the bedrolls for the night. Enjoying the fire’s warmth you placed your bag down and sat next to Jaskier who was now strumming his lute.

The night was already dark, the stars shined through the trees and Geralt was nowhere to be seen, but you knew hunting wasn’t a simple task, so you patiently waited for his return.

His fingers started moving on the strings, filling the air with a slow and gentle melody.

Jaskier started singing, just a little higher than a whisper, one of his most famous ballads. You loved  listening to his voice since the first time you heard it, back in Cintra. The bard was playing cheerfully around the room, making the audience sing and clap their hands and occasionally winking at the noble women, who were themselves really captured by the bard’s enthusiasm. And how could you not? you thought.

The rhythm of the music accelerated as your feet involuntarily began stomping on the ground and without thinking about it twice you got up and let the music take over you. Jaskier curiously followed you with his eyes, unsure about what you were doing and then smiled when you started dancing near the fire. Your arms, your hands, your fingers followed his voice elegantly in an almost hypnotic movement. He couldn’t help but thinking about how beautifully you danced, how naturally your legs rhythmically drew circles on the fallen leaves, how your golden hoops shined at the fire’s light. How breath-taking you were.

He gave a final, mighty strum of the lute as you playfully bowed, almost making contact with the ground with your head.

“Jaskier that was amazing!” you exclaimed getting up again.

“Your dance was superb!” Jaskier stood up as well, and without noticing it at first, you found yourselves mere inches away, making eye contact with each other.

Your breaths got caught in your throats as a strand of hair fell in front of your eyes. Few seconds passed in complete silence, just the crackling of the fire and a lonely owl screeching and hooting.

Jaskier’s eyes darted up to look at your head “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

Too focused on his deep blue eyes to give a proper answer you just mumbled out something.

“Oh, umm, yes”

Jaskier slowly lifted his hand and grabbed the leaf that got stuck between your beautiful hair, the feeling of his palm so close to your cheek sent shivers down your spine.

The bard by now was surprised you still hadn’t heard his heart pounding so fast in his chest, he thought it would burst out of his ribcage. Your hair was soft

A sudden movement near the fire made the two of you break eye contact.

“Dinner’s here” Geralt dropped the carcass near the fire while his gold, feline eyes observed you, attentively.

With a quick step back you both parted from each other, hoping that the red light coming from the fire would conceal the warm sensation you felt all over your face.

“G-Geralt, you managed to come back after all” Jaskier mentioned trying to shift the attention to the motionless animal in front of the witcher.

“You can do it the next time” he grumbled “If you are not too...busy”

“Don’t be so prickly! I’m actually starving, let’s cook” said Jaskier approaching him.

Fortunately, their bickering draw the attention away from what was happening, even though you knew the witcher could see better than any other night creature and could hear anything even from far away.

The rest of the night you occasionally shared glances with the bard, your head was filled with thoughts, doubts, sensations, it was a mess, a complete mess. Why do I feel like this, nothing happened, stop being so silly, you thought. Looking at the two men you decided to focus on their conversation, trying to distract yourself.

“Geralt, are you sure Calanthe will give you his grandson? I mean you saw how she reacted with that sort of porcupine” asked the bard.

“I know she will, and even if she won’t, I will meet his grandson sooner or later”

“How can you be so sure?”

The witcher tossed something into the fire absentmindedly “Because it’s destiny”

Both you and Jaskier instantly looked at each other.

“And people who are destined to be together will always find each other.” 

Jaskier glanced at you before smiling. I hope you are right Geralt. he thought.

Part 3

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