#flirty eskel

[catscraftsandcommentary]

How to Catch a Witcher

(written by Priscilla, as inspired by Jaskier)

I imagine that during Jaskier's trip to Oxenfurt University in @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU, Priscilla heard Eskel call Jaskier "catmint" and asked what that meant. And also asked how each of the humans at Kaer Morhen got together with their respective witcher (or witchers, Jaskier.) And at some point she was bitten by the composing bug, and well...

A few months after the fiasco with Agatha and Marta, witchers return to the keep with a new song and stories of strangely, uh, handsy? flirty? young people. No one quite knows what to make of it. One of them grumpily recites the new song for Jaskier, who promptly dies laughing.

If you want to catch a Witcher

I'll tell you what to do

To find a Witcher lover

To fall in love with you.

First and most important:

You must feel zero fear

Lest your intended scent it

When he to you draws near.

Prove that you have skill

In what, it matters not

Competence is sexy

And witchers think it's hot.

Now take him by the arm

And claim him as your own

Give him a sweet kiss

And invite him to your home.

Congrats on your new lover!

Keep him warm in bed -

Safe and loved and happy,

And most of all, sated.

[sleepybabybees]

Some shadow company ones- ft my 2 Ocs Oryn and Eskell (may make a post about them later-)

--

Oryn: Ah shit, I forgot.

Graves: Forgot what?

Oryn: How do you expect me to answer that?

--

Eskell: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Graves: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

--

Oryn: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

--

Oryn: Why would anyone want to harm Graves?

Eskell: Maybe because they met him?

--

Oryn: There's no way he likes me back.

Graves: Eskell would throw himself in front of a moving car for you.

Oryn: Eskell would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.

--

Graves: Eskell, that’s disgusting. You’re only giving free stuff to beautiful people.

Oryn: Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Eskell: Oh yeah? *gets really close to Oryn* How about a muffin on the house baby?

Oryn, giggling: I’m pretty.

Graves: I hate it here-

--

Oryn: Come on, Graves. Nobody actually believes that Eskell is in love with me.

Graves, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Eskell is helplessly in love with Oryn.

*Everyone raises their hand*

Oryn: Eskell, put your hand down.

--

Graves: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Oryn: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Eskell walks in*

Oryn: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know.

--

Soap: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Ghost: We were helping Oryn write their vows, but they kicked us out because Graves was making inappropriate suggestions.

Graves: How is “Eskell, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

Soap: this is why I tried to blow him up in a tank.

--

Graves: Hey, what have you two been doing?

Oryn: we were helping Soap with their wedding vows and we were kicked out of their house for making it inappropriate.

Eskell: How is “Nice ass, Ghost” inappropriate?

Graves: not everyone needs to hear soap mention ghosts ass in his vows, Moon.

Eskell: I would-

Oryn and graves: we know.

--

Eskell: Are we really going to let Ghost keep Soap?

Oryn: We kept Graves.

--

Graves as a child: I can’t wait to grow up and have cool adventures!

Graves now: I can’t wait to go to bed.

--

Graves: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Graves: When I find out who you are, I’m going to punch you in the face.

--

Graves: You can de-escalate literally any situation by asking ‘are we about to kiss?’

Graves: Doesn't work with getting out of speeding tickets, though.

[eskelwolfed]

“As good as you look dressed like that & with a nice choice of gear, I just don’t know if I should let you walk like that out there…I may just decide to keep you in here & have some fun.” @kingofthemirkwoodelks (for the modern AU)

Eskel cocked an eyebrow, feeling dashing and flirty now that Thranduil mentioned the outfit might be sexy. Eskel felt sexy too. That Thranduil told him he would then not let Eskel go out was hot in a way. No one ever said that to him.

His scarred face lit up and he couldn't help a big bright smirk on his face while fumbling on his tie, trying to get it done in the mirror, but it turned out to be harder than he thought. Usually his sister had done that for him in the past... On the rare occasion that Eskel wore something fancy.

“So, you think I look hot in a suit or is it the stuff I wear underneath?”

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

A Melody (Ch 3/?)

The fact that this chapter was successfully completed is due solely to @stinastar who reminded me that compliments are a thing and I was making things way more difficult than they needed to be. Thanks darling, you’re the best <3

“A Melody” is the sequel to this one-shot, you should read it first.

Previous chapter

Summary: After saving Eskel from certain death, Jaskier travels alongside the witcher to Kaer Morhen.

Warning: nightmare aftermath, memories of poison and torture, and things get kinda spicy this chapter; future instances of canon typical violence and sexual situations

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eskel didn’t realize immediately he was shaking as he listened to his surroundings, it wasn’t until he determined there was no movement nearby that he realized his sword was unsteady in his hand. He slowly sheathed the blade and sat back down on his bed roll, heart pounding, feeling dizzy.

It had been a nightmare.

Flashbacks, really.

He was feeling sluggish, confused. His hands and feet were becoming numbing, his movements becoming more difficult with every passing step when suddenly, he was surrounded.

Normally, he would have noticed the ambush well ahead of time, been able to disappear or even fight them off, but his body wasn’t cooperating. Poison.

As men surrounded him, he felt his stomach drop.

Everything had been blurry after that. The only other clear memory he had was the pain he felt from his naked knees hitting the ground as he collapsed, the bonds around his wrists keeping him upright even as his body sagged.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, unable to move, strung up for the disgusting pleasures of the twisted village, before Jaskier had freed him.

Jaskier.

Eskel looked over to the sleeping bard, not sure how he hadn’t registered the man’s presence.

Unwilling to dull his senses with sleep again, fearing another nightmare, Eskel rested on his knees on his bed roll, attempting to settle into a light meditative state. After a distressing amount of time, Eskel found his mind wouldn’t calm enough to meditate.

Looking around the campsite, he noticed a tree just at the edge of the clearing with low, strong branches, and he decided that working his body might help his mind rest.

-

Jaskier woke slowly, rolling on his back and stretching, trying to relieve some of the tension he always got in his lower back after sleeping outside for a while. He sat, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, finally looking over to Eskel’s empty bedroll.

Frowning, Jaskier quickly looked around the campsite, noting the witchers belongings all where he had left them the night before. Just as he opened his mouth to call out for Eskel, he finally noticed the witcher.

Doing pull ups.

On a tree limb.

Shirtless.

Jaskier couldn’t look away, the witcher’s muscular torso damp with sweat and his arms flexing. When Eskel finally released the branch and dropped to the ground, landing in a low crouch, Jaskier was still sitting on his bedroll, open mouthed.

Eskel looked at Jaskier, sitting dumbstruck, and raised an eyebrow, “Everything alright?”

Jaskier let out an embarrassing squeak, his cheeks turning red, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Eskel slowly approached Jaskier, towering over the bard with smile on his face, “If you say so. Ready to get a move on?” Jaskier nodded and moved to stand.

They were quiet as they packed their things and got dressed for the day. Jaskier grabbed his lute and slung it over his shoulder, “Alright, I’m ready when you are.” Eskel nodded at the bard and grabbed Scorpion’s reigns, leading the two toward the road.

-

Travelling was slower today, with Eskel tired and Jaskier distracted.

Jaskier had been uncharacteristically quiet, occasionally strumming his lute or playing a short tune, but his mind was occupied elsewise. He had spent nearly his entire adult life hung up on a witcher, and he finally meets another witcher, and bam! Now he’s hung up on two.

And maybe it wasn’t quite the same, Jaskier knew he was in love with Geralt, had been for an embarrassingly long time, but he didn’t know Eskel nearly as well, certainly not well enough to be in love with him.

But the little smiles Eskel sent his way and his comments on Jaskier’s playing and his friendly banter and his body certainly had Jaskier wanting.

It was around midday when Eskel decided to walk next to Jaskier, claiming Scorpion would tire of his weight soon enough. Their banter carried on as before but now with the added bonus of Eskel gesticulating nearly as wildly as Jaskier and proving to be very tactile. He was quick to rest his hand on Jaskier’s shoulder or to clap him on the back when Jaskier made a particularly good joke.

And it was a lovely time.

But Jaskier didn’t know what to do with himself. The camaraderie was wonderful, they were getting along splendidly, but he didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with the attraction he was feeling to the witcher.

Ignoring his attraction to Geralt hadn’t failed him yet in the past decade, though. Jaskier mentally nodded to himself, pleased he’d come up with a solution to his problem.

A few miles down the road, Jaskier decided that maybe just ignoring his attraction to Eskel wouldn’t quite work. With Geralt it was easy, the man mostly kept himself at arm’s length, he wasn’t particularly talkative, and he didn’t often initiate contact.

Eskel was proving to be very different from Geralt.

Eskel was happy to chat back with Jaskier, sharing anecdotes and stories of contracts and all the things he’d experienced, telling Jaskier of all his favorite places to travel to. And he did all of this talking while keeping in near constant physical contact with the bard.

And every single touch was making Jaskier go mad.

-

Eskel wasn’t sure exactly what his plan was, but he wanted to be certain that he was reading Jaskier correctly.

That morning, Eskel had only noticed Jaskier when he picked up on the bard’s scent changing. His natural scent reminded Eskel of the ocean, light and fresh, but suddenly it had changed, deeper and almost spicy.

A change that Eskel had always associated with lust.

But Jaskier hadn’t done or said anything to indicate he was attracted to Eskel. The bard was continuing on, business as normal.

Maybe he just wasn’t interested in men.

Eskel looked over to the three travelers passing by the opposite direction and let out a hum, leaning over to Jaskier to whisper in his ear, “Can’t say I’m overly fond of humans at the moment but that one is awful tempting, don’t you think?” Eskel indicated the man walking slightly behind the other two, he was fairly tall and decently well built, most likely a farmer by the looks of him.

Jaskier stumbled.

Eskel reached out and put a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, “You alright?”

Nodding, Jaskier stuttered, “Yeah I’m fine. He… uhh… yeah, he was attractive. I suppose. Yeah.”

Eskel smiled.

-

When the pair stop for lunch, Eskel decided to push Jaskier a little farther. The more time he spent with the bard, the more interested in him Eskel felt.

He looked over at Jaskier, taking in the man’s appearance. He was wearing an incredibly detailed doublet, unbuttoned, and matching trousers. The set looked very nice and extremely expensive, clearly tailored to Jaskier’s measurements.

Eskel cleared his throat, “That doublet looks very good on you.”

Looking up at Eskel, surprise furrowing his brow, Jaskier responded “Ahhh, thank you? It’s the best work you can find in Novigrad. It’s out of season though.”

“Well,” Eskel started, “I don’t know much about what is and isn’t in season, but I do know that it fits you well, you really do look good in it.”

Jaskier blushed, ducking his head, “Thanks.”

-

The two finally found a good place to make camp for the night and Eskel started setting everything up while Jaskier walked down to the small stream to clean up from the last couple days of travel.

Through the rest of their travels, Jaskier had seemed more receptive to Eskel’s continued flirting, leaning into his touches, smiling more at his compliments, but the bard never reciprocated. Eskel decided he would try one last time, before the two laid down to sleep, and if the bard didn’t seem enthusiastic with the attention, he would drop the whole matter.

Jaskier came back to camp and sat upon a log, watching Eskel as he finished lighting the campfire. Eskel stood and swiftly walked to Jaskier, settling beside him on the log.

Jaskier had just opened his mouth to say something when Eskel leaned in close, his face close to the crook of Jaskier’s neck. Eskel inhaled and then said lowly, “You smell nice.”

“Ahh… thanks?” Jaskier squeaked out as Eskel pulled back slightly, meeting the bard’s eyes. Jaskier’s pupils were blown, the blue of his irises just a thin ring, and his gaze was fliting down to Eskel’s lips.

Eskel smiled, he had been right all along. He put his hand under Jaskier’s chin and leaned forward, pressing their lips together.

Jaskier froze under him and he quickly made to pull back, worried he had misread the situation after all, but Jaskier grabbed Eskel by the neck, pulling him further into the kiss. Eskel deepened the kiss, running his tongue across the seam of the other man’s lips, eliciting a moan from Jaskier.

Not pausing the kiss, Jaskier moved to straddle Eskel, settling on his lap. Eskel set his hands on Jaskier’s hips, drawing the man even closer, startling another moan from the bard.

Jaskier let out a gasp when he felt Eskel’s erection grind into his own, rocking his hips down to get more friction. Eskel slid Jaskier’s doublet off of his shoulders and then traced his hands down Jaskier’s chest slowly, finally gripping his waist.

Jaskier broke the kiss, gasping for air, still grinding their hips together. Eskel continued kissing down Jaskier’s neck, making sure to nip at the spot just behind the bard’s ear, making him whimper. Jaskier let out a breathy moan and moved his hands into Eskel’s hair just as he felt the witcher freeze below him.

“Jask,” Eskel whispered calmly, “when I say, I need you to your right as quickly as possible, okay?”

Jaskier’s eyes met Eskel’s and the bard nodded.

“Now!”

Jaskier launched himself out of Eskel’s lap just as Eskel threw himself forward, grabbing his silver sword and clashing with the creature in front of him.

Where in the hell did a katakan come from?

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Next Chapter

Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it (and it was worth the wait), this chapter gave me a fair bit of trouble. At one point it contained the sentence “Eskel had spent the day with Jaskier not his mind on his nightmares and that was good.” so I think it’s a miracle I ever finished it.

Tag list: @fandommagpie @caffeinatedcorvids @elliestormfound @birds-of-forgiveness @bastardofmothman @jaciespoonlovesdrwho @tookarma @geraskier-trashh @justalittletomfoolery @batfam16 (idk why this tag won’t work, im sorry), and @jaskierswolf (idk if you’re interested in this but this is my current project so if you like it im happy to add you to the tag list :D)

[myidlehand]

Hitman AU where Geralt really hates his job but it's the family business. They only take contracts on bad people and he takes the pets from the people he kills. He has 7 dogs, 5 cats, 2 horses and surprisingly an iguana. Vesemir keeps begging him to please stop bringing them back to the big farm where they all live at.

Jaskier is also a hitman from a rival family. His methods are a little bit unconventional but they do work well.

Jaskier falls immediately in love with Geralt during a contract. He keeps taking contracts he knows will let him work with/against Geralt which is incredibly frustrating to the man, cause Geralt won't have anything to do with him cause Jaskier kills all sorts of people. So Jaskier decides to take on a really big contract on a really big bad guy to show Geralt he can be good too.

Of course Geralt has to rescue him cause the idiot took on way more than he can chew.

They kill the bad guy and all his goons together and Jaskier ask Geralt on a date right then and there, both still covered in blood. Gerald sigh, roll his yes and just goes "fine". Jaskier doesn't stop smiling for two days after that.

[mvncesa]

julian looking like a disney prince in a flowy white shirt with his fluffy hair as he flirts with maidens and witchers alike !!

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Modern!Human in Kaer Morhen

Summary: How the Witcher characters would try to impress a modern person + feel about them

Notes: I put some of the non-Witcher characters here too since some of them wintered at Kaer Morhen as well

it's been a while, but i had my wisdom teeth removed and was incapacitated for the last few days

Tagged: @lucyinthelibrary @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @sunndust (hmu to be tagged!)

Masterlist | based on this request | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He tries to stay away from you at first since destiny loves to fuck him over

But you’re just so nice

Finally he’s being treated like a normal person

Would never admit it out loud

Doesn’t try to impress you per se, but tries to show that he cares about you and might become very protective

Yennefer

Has one talk with you, becomes the Continent’s first suffragette

Loves you for being a feminist (if you aren’t, why are you reading this??)

Tries to impress you with magic

Would probably work (come on! PORTALS???)

Very possessive of you, even as a friend

Triss

Honestly, she doesn’t really think about impressing you at all

But she kinda does?

She’s just a super kind person in a super shitty world

If she actually does try to actively impress you, it’ll also be through magic

Just more wholesome opposed to Yen’s intimidating

Jaskier

Will write you a song

And a song about you

He’s a bard, so be prepared to be serenaded (it would probably work on me tbh)

Ofc super flirty

So happy that you treat his witcher friends as anyone else

Eskel

Internally screaming

AKJSDJFHASAJFJKHKJ SOMEONES TREATING ME WITH DECENCY???

Crushes so hard I’m not okay

Tries to impress you with absolutely everything

From fighting to good reading recommendations to leaving little gifts (especially the little gifts)

How could you not love this guy?

Coen

He just constantly hast to remind himself that you’re nice to witchers

And ofc he melts for it bc obviously (obviously being deep-rooted trauma and self-image issues, applying to all witchers)

Tries to impress you by teaching you how to fight

And showing off all the while

Means well, but very distracted

Lambert

He’s defensively aggressive from the get-go

And so startled when you’re just… normal to him

Has no idea how to act around you

He can’t just… be mean now???

So chaotic with trying to impress you

Starts tripping while showing off his sword skills

Vesemir

Super suspicious of you being nice to his boys (and him)

Yeah, he doesn’t trust you in the least

When he does start to like you, he tries to impress you with kind gestures

And by being a good listener (Vesemir = Kaer Morhen’s local therapist)

Also makes the boys respect you

[jaskiersvalley]

Cookie Cutter Boyfriends

The bakery wasn't new to the area but Jaskier was constantly surprised by the variety of people who came and went. There were a couple of regulars but fewer than he'd anticipated. Some people he wished would come back, others he was glad to see go. However, the two beefcakes that just walked in, Jaskier prayed to any listening deity that they would be back repeatedly.

"What can I get you gents?" Jaskier asked with his most winning smile.

Eyes like molten honey scanned the selection and Jaskier wanted to tuck the strands of white hair behind the man's ear to see his face better.

"Cookies. The personalised ones."

"A fine choice," Jaskier trilled and pulled the tray out. "I can put any name or message on there for you. Even a phone number, if you want to give it to a special someone."

So maybe Jaskier was flirting and hoping for a number from the man for himself. But it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Write Eskel on one," the man said, carefully spelling out the name while the other smiled at him indulgently. It had Jaskier's heart fluttering at the sweetness.

"And what shall I put on yours?"

"You should put a heart on either side of Geralt's name," Eskel piped up with a snicker. He got an elbow in the ribs for it but didn't seem to mind.

Obliging, Jaskier did as told, curling the most perfect hearts he could onto the cookie. Done, he popped them in a box and put them on the counter by the till. "Anything else I can do for you today? Does your, uh, friend want anything?"

Geralt's eyes widened before saying, "He's my boyfriend."

Of course he was, the two looked beautiful together and Jaskier sighed internally. However, he couldn't help but note the look horror on Eskel's face. Hopefully he hadn't accidentally helped Geralt out himself and his boyfriend when they were trying to keep things a secret.

"Well, good for you both!" Jaskier mustered up a smile and nodded at the small rainbow flags by the till. "I sometimes do flag cookies if the mood strikes. Usually on a Friday."

The transaction was processed in silence and at speeds. Jaskier could only watch as the two bundled out of his bakery and, as soon as the door closed behind them, Eskel was asking Geralt something, face torn between despair and entertainment. If Jaskier could trust his lip reading, he could have sworn Geralt had said something along the lines of "I panicked, okay?".

Somehow, Geralt and Eskel became semi-regulars. They didn't pop in on a specific day each week but they were bound to appear either independently or with each other. Each time they did, Jaskier watched them with heart eyes. Eskel was broad, almost apologetically large but kind and gentle. He was quite the sight to behold but Jaskier had an even softer spot for Geralt who really looked like he needed to relax. So, whenever he came by alone, Jaskier slipped an extra cookie in his bag or asked him to be a taster for a newer cupcake flavour.

It was all going well until Geralt came into the bakery with someone new. Another well-built, handsome man but with a sharp edge to his energy. He made a beeline for the display case by the till.

"Please don't knock on the glass, it scares the muffins," Jaskier said by way of greeting and got a bark of a laugh.

"I'll be careful, don't you worry. It's Geralt you need to keep an eye on."

Which Jaskier diligently was. Well, he was checking out Geralt's backside. Tearing his gaze away, he cleared his throat.

"I'm glad Geralt has brought a friend along today."

"Friend?" The man stood up straight with a hand over his heart. "Geralt, what have you been telling people? I'm his boyfriend!"

Which just didn't compute. Geralt had called Eskel his boyfriend. The mild panic of figuring it out was interrupted by a low growl of "Lambert" that was both a threat and fond exasperation.

"What might people think?" Lambert cried out dramatically. "Are you ashamed of our love?"

A hand clamped on the back of Lambert's neck and Geralt stood next to him, not letting go. "Jaskier, a couple of dark chocolate and ginger cookies please and a tray of lemon muffins."

Hastily putting everything in boxes, Jaskier tried not to let his imagination go too wild. Maybe Eskel was Geralt's boyfriend but so was Lambert. It wasn't unheard of really. It gave hope to Jaskier that they might take a liking to him and invite him home for a wild night. He could only watch as they walked out and the first thing Geralt did was cuff Lambert on the back of the head.

Things only got more weird. The next time Geralt was in, he was trailed by another man. Lithe, seemingly on the edge of bursting out giggling and he made a beeline for the counter.

"You're Jaskier, right?" The man held a hand out. "I've heard so much about you! I'm Aiden, Geralt's boyfriend."

Face schooled into something carefully blank, Jaskier nodded. "A pleasure to meet you."

"I think the pleasure is all mine." The wink was followed by a blatant once over and a low whistle. In the background Geralt closed his eyes, jaw twitching as he visibly counted backwards from ten. This time Aiden was the one who asked for a dozen cookies with an array of pride flags on them, two of each, pan, bi, ace, nonbinary, trans and demi. Oddly, the polyamory one Jaskier had started making since meeting Geralt and his boyfriends was left unrequested. The two left and Jaskier rubbed at his temple, trying to figure out just how four incredibly attractive men had found happiness with each other.

Only a week later Jaskier was waiting for a customer to make up his mind. He was the most silently intense man Jaskier had ever encountered and he really wished he'd hurry up and leave. Alas, he was taking so long, looking over everything in the display cases like the choice was of the utmost importance.

"I'll take two cherry and almond slices."

Cutting said cake, Jaskier was relieved and hoped that once the man had gone, he'd not be back again. The sound of the bell above the door had him looking up and Geralt stood there, alone for once. However, he eyed the man by the counter with a closed off expression which remained as the man took his slices and walked past Geralt, shoulders brushing.

"Geralt.

"Cahir."

It was awkward and Jaskier tried not to pry. But curiosity won out. "Another boyfriend."

From the door Cahir laughed. "He wishes."

For a moment Geralt stared at the ground before squaring his shoulders. "They're not my boyfriend. They're dating Eskel."

Immediately Jaskier adjusted his internal monologue to reflect the new pronouns. Though what Geralt just said made no difference.

"Are they a paramour to your polycule?"

"No." Geralt shook his head firmly. "Cahir and Eskel are a couple. So are Lambert and Aiden."

Not understanding, Jaskier wet his lips and cast a glance around. His eyes landed on a familiar group on the sidewalk outside the shop, making no attempt to disguise the fact they were all watching. Cahir and Eskel were leaning shoulder to shoulder as they munched on their cake. Meanwhile Lambert leered and Aiden sent him a thumbs up.

"I'm not sure I understand," Jaskier said. "I thought you said they were all your boyfriends."

Feet shuffling on the spot, Geralt cleared his throat. "Lambert and Eskel are my brothers." Which made even less sense and Jaaskier hummed, desperately trying to understand without asking whether Geralt really just admit to being in an incestuous relationship.

"I'm not dating any of them."

But you said-"

"I panicked." Geralt was watching Jaskier intently. "You were cute, flirty and I panicked. I wanted to ask you out."

A giggle bubbled out of Jaskier. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it but that wasn't a problem in the moment.

"Well then, how about a personalised cookie, on the house?" He grabbed Geralt's favourite and, with a flourish, wrote his own name and number on it, dotting the 'i' with a heart. Handing it over, he smiled. "I told you these cookies were great for phone numbers."

Outside a cheer went up as Geralt's family decided that the outing had been a success.

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Kids and Coffee Dates Ch 7

Masterlist

Here's a fun game, it's called spot the reference. Also yeah my life has been crazy but you can't keep a good dog down and all that

Y/n: Hey what are you doing on Monday?

Esk: Work. I’m free afterwards though. What did you have in mind?

Y/n: oh………

Y/: Wanna ditch work and go with me to the waterpark?

Esk: why on a Monday?

Y/n: Less crowds, shorter lines, more time spent going down slides and less time standing around getting sunburned.

Y/n: Don’t feel pressured to ditch for me. I go every year as a tradition, figured I would see if you wanted to tag along.

Esk: I mean if we can do it next Monday instead of this Monday I can probably go. Gives me time to get all my stuff either covered or done.

Y/n: Sounds like a plan to me. Meet me at my house in the am.

Esk: Sure thing.

Arranging to have the day off was, awkward for Eskel to say the least. On the one hand he was the most seasoned worker and the owners’ son, so no one really could tell him no per say. On the other hand he never was not at work. Hell he usually came in on his scheduled days off simply because he was bored. That had been happening less and less recently due to y/n.

Since there last big date Eskel had taken to sending Y/n his work schedule so they could hang out on his days off. They took turns with who drove to who’s house. Unless it was raining, in which case Y/n always came to him. As a thank you for not forcing him to get soaked riding the bike over to her house Eskel usually ordered takeout for the two of them.

At first Eskel had been hesitant about hanging out around each other as much as he and Y/n did. He feared she would get tired of him, especially in a setting where they weren’t actively doing anything. The anxiety of possible boredom shifted slowly to become a comfort in the familiar. They gradually became constants in the other’s life. Y/n knew the layout of his kitchen and where he kept utensils and dishware. Knew where the tools were located in the garage and how the bathroom handle liked to jam. He knew when Y/n preferred to feed the goats and what scents of candles she liked to light in the house. He knew where she hid the sweets and that she loved having the windows open on cool summer mornings.

Eskel and y/n both found that they preferred staying at home with one another rather than going out publicly. This waterpark date would be the first time going out in a while.  2 months at least. The date of reference only stood out as important as Eskel had been keeping track of time till he was projected to be a “goat grandad” as Y/n would say which was projected to be in a little over 2 more months.  Purnima and Ciri were ecstatic about having baby goats around. The rest of the family was just happy Eskel couldn’t use a lonely goat as an excuse to get out of things any more.

2 months. It didn’t feel like it to Eskel The time spent with y/n seemed to blend into an amazing haze. However the longer he sat in the haze the more guilt he felt about not telling his family about her. It just seemed like he could never find the right time. He didn’t want to just blurt it out at Wednesday dinners, it felt like something he needed some preamble to. But then again he had yet clarify with y/n what they even were. They just kinda started going on dates together and never stopped. They never defined what they were to each other. Boyfriend girlfriend? The flirty-est pair of friends on the planet?

Eskel flopped his head on the pillow on the couch. One leg planted on the ground the other hiked over the back as he willed himself to get up and start backing for the waterpark tomorrow instead of procrastinating it till the morning. Eskel closed his eyes in contemplation. Hmmm sleep now but wake up earlier or do it now and sleep in longer? Eskel gave a long sigh and sat up, gathering what he would need in a gym bag. He had to dig in his dresser for a bit to find his swim trunks. The last time he had used them was the guys’ trip he and his brothers had taken before Lamberts wedding.  Considering Purnima was five now and they had been married a year before having her.... the trunks position in the back and bottom of the dresser drawer seemed warranted. Eskel gave a contemplative look down to the garment in his hand. They should still fit

Probably……

~

As Eskel entered the threshold of the old school turned house he was hit in the face with scent. The odor of lilac pervaded the space, intruding in the air like a mist. Eskel set his bag on a stool as Y/n entered the room. She was in shorts and a swim cover-up and bounced about the kitchen, grabbing several items out of cabinets and drawers and setting them on the counter next to a cooler.

“Sorry about the smell” she said as she was bent over grabbing things out of the fridge. She lifted up holding containers with some sliced fruits and sandwiches. “I poured a batch of soaps this morning to solidify while we were gone.” As she set the containers in the cooler she gestured with her head to a table over to the side. Several square trays were setting on it, some purple, some white with little purple specs and one tray marbled in the two.

Eskel moved to the counter to help y/n pack. “Do a lot of people like smelling like an overbearing flowerbed?” Y/n chuckled at this as she handed some water bottles to him.

“You’d be surprised, this soap gets a lot of repeat buyers.” Y/n handed him another water bottle but Eskel paused before loading it up. “Hey I think this one was opened you wanna put it back?” Eskel made to hand her back the bottle but shrugged and let out a sly “Nah it’s all good” before winking at him, turning as she did so to get her shoes from the door. Eskel screwed the cap off the bottle and raised it to inspect it. The strong scent of vodka just barely able to cut through the overpowering floral scent of the house.  Now ready to go Y/n took the bottle out of his hands and carefully screwed the lid back on.

“ I don’t know if you’ve noticed hon but I’m not exactly the most social person. I can only take so many screaming human kids sober. The whole point of going on a weekday is to avoid as many people as possible but…” y/n shook the bottle cheekily before putting it the cooler and snapping the lid shut. “Just in case”

~

Y/n had been right in that were less people, but not no people unfortunately. Still the pair were able score a small secluded area under some trees in the park to set up. Eskel was digging through the various bags and pulling things out when looked up and his breath hitched.

Some how despite the fact that he knew he was going to a waterpark with y/n and he himself had made musing about his own swimwear—Eskel’s brain had somehow not registered that this would mean seeing y/n in her swimwear as well.  Eskel was sure his eyes were wide as he watched y/n. New expanses of smooth skin uncovered to him. She reached hands above her head and stretched upward, eyes closed and contented smile as she seemed to absorb the sun at her back like a little flower. The light behind her haloing around her.

Eskel felt his face flush. His mouth going dry and something stirring up in him, causing him to shift in his seat.

This date could get very awkward very fast.

Eskel’s mind panicked slightly and he spaced out, only coming to after a hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Hey earth to Eskel” Y/n was standing next to him, leaning down to look at his face. The position creating the perfect angle to look at her cleavage.

Focus man focus.

“You gonna go swimming in that?” She asked.

“uh no, I need to head over to the bathrooms to change uh.. sorry heat must be getting to me” Eskel tried to paste on his dopiest smile, hopping y/n wouldn’t question anything. She just sat on the chair, hands behind her as she leaned back.

“Well go change so we can go get in the water before your brain melts”

~

Eskel found himself getting more immersed in the waterpark than we thought he would. He thought he would feel out of place or that everyone was staring at him. However with y/n at his side, grabbing his hand and leading him to different attractions, he felt a little thrill run through him. Y/n’s sense of childlike giddiness spreading to him as they ran around the park, trying there best not to get there feet burned on the hot pavement.

They day passed in a second and soon he and y/n were at a local ice-cream place near her house. Sat on a picnic table watching the sunset, hair still wet and smelling like chlorine. Y/n leaned back slightly and rested her head on his shoulder. Eskel looked down to her, remembering his dilemma from the night before.

“Hey y/n?” She looked up at him, eyes wide and curious. “What are we?”

Her eyebrows creased slightly and a confused frown found it’s way on her face.

“Uhh humans, unless you have something you need to tell me?”

A laugh rumbled in Eskel’s chest, the tension eased slightly.

“No I meant like our relationship….. like, uh god like were not just friends right?”

Y/n giggled at this “Friends that make-out on one or the others couch on an almost weekly basis? Maybe the make out parties Sean-Paul told me about were true.”

“The what?” it was Eskel’s turn to look confused.

‘I’ll tell you later” Y/n waved her had dismissing the comment for the more urgent topic at hand. “Eskel I never really thought we were ever just friends”

“So like are we…. Boyfriend, girlfriend then?”

Y/n giggled slightly, looking up at Eskel. The sunset reflected in her eye, only adding to the adoration there. Her smile barely contained. “I kinda thought we already were”

At this Eskel leaned down to her, a hand coming to y/n’s cheek and guiding her into a kiss, the lovers perfectly cascaded in the fiery light of sunset.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Take Me, I’m Yours

(the highest voted options on the poll were ‘Geralt rescues Jaskier from trouble’ and ‘Jaskier riles the Captain up in public’ so I teamed up with the ever-marvelous, stupendously talented @limrx to bring you this Swashbuckling AU oneshot/art piece featuring a horribly jealous Geralt and a frisky, flirty Jaskier)

------------------------

“Do you think he likes me back?” Jaskier asked. He leaned over the ship’s railing to look more closely at the dolphin following behind them. Lambert didn’t think he’d fall overboard but it would be kind of funny if he did. The strange young nobleman did have a way of always landing on his feet, though. 

“I know he does.”

“Well how come he hasn’t told me anything about it, then?” 

“You’ve met the Captain, right? About this tall, long white hair, weird yellow eyes, emotionally incompetant?” 

“You have a good point. Should I just confront him about it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lambert rolled his eyes before shooting Jaskier a pointed look. “If you want to send your ransom note back to Lettenhove the following morning.”

“Fuck. I just want to kiss him, Lambert. Regularly. I want to know if he snores or not. I want to lay on the deck beneath the stars and talk to him like we’re friends and not just pirate and pseudo-pirate-captive. I really want to see what his ass looks like under those godsforsaken trousers, Lambert, it’s killing me not knowing.”

“You’re more insatiable than a siren during the rainy season,” the second mate teased. “But with fewer teeth.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going ashore when we lay anchor?”

“Am I allowed?”

“I assume you’ll be allowed. You’re practically part of the crew. You’ve been aboard for nearly two weeks and you’ve pulled your fair share of the weight, if not moreso.”

“Why thank you, Lambert. I appreciate you noticing.”

“Of course, Jaskier. You may be an utter fool and a fop to boot, but at least you’re a hard worker.”

“Asshole.”

“Mhm.”

They both watched the dolphins for a minute in silence before Jaskier’s face split into the most heinous and dastardly grin. It filled Lambert with an unmistakable sense of fear and worry. “I have a brilliant idea. I know how to get Geralt to admit his feelings.”

“No, absolutely not. I am not getting roped into this, you horrible little minx. Don’t give me that look! I won’t help you this time!”

“But Lamby-bert,” Jaskier whined. “If he has someone to take all his frustrations out on in bed then I’m sure it’ll be easier to negotiate for higher shares next time we take a vessel.”

Lambert did not miss the fact that Jaskier said ‘we’ when referring to the crew. The second mate knew the little nobleman was here to stay; it had been clear that Jaskier would be sticking around from the moment Geralt first laid eyes (and hands) on him. The Captain hadn’t stopped looking out for the lad since. Lambert wasn’t even going to think about that singular flirty kiss atop the mainmast nearly a week and a half ago. Geralt had been pining after the acrobatic little idiot ever since and making absolutely no move to flirt back. It was driving the crew absolutely crazy. “Alright, you devilish siren. I’m in.”

----------------------------------------

Jaskier cleaned up nice.

And he deserved to clean up nice. He’d worked hard to put this outfit together. Billy had lent him a pair of dark blue breeches in return for Jaskier’s help with mending the mainsail. The shirt he was wearing was half a size too big, which was exactly big enough for the neckline to plunge even lower than he usually wore it. This way it revealed more of his toned (and rather hirsute) chest. He’d borrowed it from Starkey, who was the same height as him but who had much broader shoulders.

The Captain was going to absolutely die when he saw Jaskier.

He whistled a rather naughty shanty as he exited the bunk room and made his way towards the gangplank where Starkey, Lambert, and Eskel were waiting for him. He spun in a quick circle, arms out to show off his clothes. Lambert and Starkey whistled appreciatively and Eskel hid his face in the palm of his hand. “Ready, boys?”

“Absolutely not,” Starkey smiled. The first mate standing next to him tilted his head back to look at the sky, sighing deeply.

“Are you sure about this? What if the Captain tries to kill Lambert?”

“He won’t be killing anyone. Hopefully. If he does run his sword through anyone, it will most likely be me,” Jaskier joked. “Now, this is my first time drinking with real pirates. Anything I should know?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Eskel suggested. Lambert bit back a laugh and Starkey snorted.

“Impossible.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

The four men made their way down onto the docks and through the sparse crowd of sailors and merchants still mingling in the evening light. Starkey led them to a decent tavern and found a vacant corner table, which gave them an excellent view of the door.

Geralt and Starkey had spent the morning selling their stolen cargo to various merchants, shopkeepers, and artisans. The Captain had divided up the gold between his crew according to their various contracts and Jaskier, more as a jest than anything else, was given two crowns as well. “For not dying,” Geralt had intoned seriously. The men were amused but Jaskier’s face had gone bright red with embarrassment. The young noble had talked them out of trouble with the Skelligan patrols twice last week and Geralt was repaying him with public humiliation? Lambert knew that the Captain’s earlier actions were about to make this evening a lot more entertaining (if slightly uncomfortable) and he was ready to get this show on the road. He flung an arm around Jaskier’s waist and ordered them all a round of ales.

“So everyone knows what the general goal here is, right?” Jaskier clarified.

“Yes,” Eskel nodded. “You’re using Geralt’s jealous nature to make him act on his less than subtle feelings for you.”

“Correct. Wonderful.”

Lambert squeezed the noble’s hip through his borrowed pants and Jaskier huffed indignantly in reply. Starkey chuckled softly at their antics and winked at the barmaid when she brought them their drinks. “Can’t wait, really. It’s been so boring lately and the last two ships we took didn’t even fight back. This is drama. This is entertainment!”

“Shut up, Starkey,” Jaskier pouted. He leaned back into Lambert’s embrace and gulped down half his ale.

“Slow down, kid,” the first mate teased. “Or you will be drunk when he gets here and your plan won’t work.”

“I need to get the pink in my cheeks or I’ll look suspicious,” Jaskier argued. “One ale should do it without getting me tipsy. Maybe two if it’s weak.”

“Method actors,” Lambert rolled his eyes.

Jaskier was sipping slowly at his second ale and the other three pirates were on their fourth or fifth when Geralt finally came barreling through the tavern door. “There you are!” Eskel shouted, waving the Captain over. Nobody missed the barely-hidden glare Geralt aimed at Lambert’s arm where it rested against the nobleman’s lower back.

“Captain,” the second mate nodded.

“Lambert. Eskel. Starkey.” Geralt greeted them all in turn.

“Heyyyy,” Jaskier whined, leaning forward against the edge of the table and pouting. “What about me, sir?”

“You.”

“Rude,” the brunette huffed. Lambert ran a lazy hand up and down his spine and Jaskier watched as Geralt’s eyes narrowed into slits. He sighed sadly and melodramatically into his mug and nodded once in the second mate’s direction. “Thank you, darling. At least someone in this crew likes me.”

Starkey saw Geralt’s eyelid twitch and slid Eskel two crowns under the table to settle their bet. He thought the vein on their Captain’s throat would show up before the eyelid went, but it must have been the first mate’s lucky night this time around. “Hey Eskel, let’s see if any of the lovely ladies here want to dance with us, eh?”

“You coming, Captain?” Eskel asked. “Seems like Jaskier and Lambert are a bit busy.”

“Yes, Geralt,” Jaskier egged him on. The Captain had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of his mug. The noble took a long swig of ale and licked a bit of foam from his lip when he was finished, noting the way Geralt’s eyes locked onto his mouth. “Why not go dance with a pretty lady. Certainly nobody else has your attention.”

The pirate Captain finally snapped. He slammed his mug down and reached around the table to grab Jaskier around the waist. He hauled him out of the second mate’s grip and onto his feet. “Captain, what are yo-”

“Yer coming with me, siren,” Geralt snarled. Lambert relinquished the nobleman with very little fuss, winking at Jaskier as the pirate Captain swung him up and over his broad shoulder. The young man flashed all three of his co-conspirators a thumbs up as he was carried out of the tavern like a sack of potatoes.

“A little rude to Lambert, don’t you think, sir?” he asked, resting his elbow against Geralt’s shoulder blade and settling his chin onto his hand. He crossed his ankles to make it easier for the pirate to balance his weight comfortably. “But they’ll be happy to know that our little plan worked out.”

Geralt stopped in his tracks but did not set his captive down. “Your what?”

“Our plan,” Jaskier explained as if bored. “To get you to finally do something about all this sexual tension between us. I kissed you on the mouth for fuck’s sake.”

“I thought it was an accident.”

“Oh, and saving you from hanging at the hands of some Skelligan officers, was that an accident? Not sending a ransom note last time we stopped for water and not turning you in for the reward in Novigrad, were those accidents too? There is a hefty bounty on your head, White Wolf, and I could be living independently in a castle somewhere right now except that I happen to find you endlessly attractive and fascinating.”

“Hmm.” Geralt resumed walking. Jaskier noticed with a smirk that his pace had picked up quite a bit. As if he was suddenly in a hurry to be somewhere.

“Hum dismissively all you like, sir, but you’re still carrying me back to your cabin to ravish me senseless, are you not?”

“Ravish may be the wrong word for what I’d like to do to you, but you do look rather tempting.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of effort into this ensemble.”

“You’re a calculating little nymph, aren’t you?”

“No, of course not. I only managed to secure a bunk aboard the Kaer Morhen and wrap its infamous captain around my finger in less than a month. I am but a silly nobleman with excellent dexterity and a penchant for climbing.”

“Lambert was right to call you a minx.”

“He does love that nickname.”

“It’s not an endearment.”

“Whatever.” The ground shifted and Jaskier knew they were making their way up the gangplank and back onto the ship. This was the part he’d been waiting for! Geralt kicked in his cabin door and stepped inside, turning to close and lock it behind them. Jaskier wriggled impatiently. “Set me down!”

“Hmm, no. I rather like the view from here.”

“Excuse me?”

Geralt gave him a gentle smack on the ass, almost a pat really, and huffed out a laugh at Jaskier’s offended noise. “You’ve been an awful lot of trouble for a nobleman and a captive.”

“I’m barely a captive, Geralt. Give it up already.”

“You haven’t signed the book.” He set Jaskier back on his feet and looped his arms around the younger man’s waist to pull him close. “You’re still a captive until you swear on the book and sign your name next to the others. Then you’ll be part of my crew.”

“I have yet to negotiate for my shares,” the brunette stated. He tilted his chin back, baring his neck slightly and offering Geralt his ale-damp lips. “Ten crowns after every capture and I get to sleep in here with you. That sounds fair.”

“You’re a good worker. Seven crowns, you can sleep in here with me, and you can borrow my bandannas whenever you want.”

“Even the red one?”

“Especially the red one.”

Jaskier’s soft pink mouth brushed against the pirate’s as he murmured his answer: “Deal.”

Geralt’s lips crashed against Jaskier’s with the strength of a wave hitting the side of his ship in a maelstrom. The Captain’s mouth was so warm and his lips moved against the younger man’s with almost frightening determination. As if he was trying to prove himself. His arms were strong around the nobleman’s lower back and his white hair brushed deliciously against the skin of Jaskier’s neck.

“You’ve bewitched me, body and soul.”

“Oh, Geralt,” the younger man sighed, opening his mouth to let the other in. I never thought the word ‘plunder’ could apply to kissing but here I stand, corrected by experience yet again. The White Wolf of the Seven Seas pulled away, made breathless by a young and foolish nobleman in search of adventure.

“I’m not a siren, you know. Not even a little. My family’s estate is landlocked.”

Geralt’s fingers rose from his waist and brushed against his cheekbone reverently. Those amber eyes, so cold and focused when he shouted orders or intimidated a merchant captain, were looking down at Jaskier with such devoted tenderness. The ex-noble felt his heart fill anew and double in size. There wasn’t enough room in his body to hold all of this feeling.

“Kiss me again, Captain. Take me to bed.”

“You’re too good at tempting me. You must be evil.”

“I assure you,” Jaskier smirked, ripping Geralt’s shirt over his head in one smooth movement. “I am.”

[quiet-moth]

Modern/Accidental Witcher!Jaskier AU backstory

So this definitely turned out much more elaborate than I was planning, but I never could keep things simple 😬 I’ll most likely write a fic eventually, but for now here’s some brainspew of my little AU! (NSFW elements)

The setting is modern, but monsters/magical creatures are still a big problem and threat to civilization so it’s common to have Witcher response units in towns to take care of monster threats. (Like firefighters, so shirtless Witcher calendars are definitely a thing)

After graduating at Oxenfurt, Jaskier moves to Cintra and gets a job at a botanical cafe (owned by Triss, next door to her girlfriend Yenn’s magic services shop [she does magical tattoos too]) that also lets him perform his music some nights. A pack of Witchers come in to get coffee at the cafe pretty much every day, so Jaskier gets to know them over time. (Pack consists of Vesemir, Geralt, Lambert, Eskel; and sometimes Coen and Aiden, but they’re part of other regions’ Witcher response units and only come by to help sometimes or visit.)

They’re all instantly smitten with this ball of sunshine of course. They often invite him to sit at the table with them while they have their lunch and coffee and they tell him stories about the monsters they’ve taken care of that week. Which he starts writing songs about. He play flirts with all of them as he does with all his friends, but especially hones in on quiet observer Geralt, who he is particularly endeared to. 

They ask Jaskier to babysit Ciri one night during an ‘all hands on deck’ monster situation (Triss and Yenn included, who help out with the magic side of it sometimes) since he’s the only one they trust with their precious bundle of joy (her parents made Geralt her godfather after he saved them from a monster, so Ciri went to live with the pack after her parents died). Ciri adores Jaskier and demands he visit more often, so he starts hanging out at the ‘Witcher HQ’ and basically becomes an honorary member of the pack.

Geralt and Jaskier get closer and more flirty after he starts hanging out at Witcher HQ, and eventually they start fucking. The morning after one such session of extracurricular activities, Jaskier wakes up feeling ill and feverish, which he just assumes is a random flu or something. Geralt lets him stay while he recovers. (Nursemaid Geralt, anyone?)

Then Jaskier’s hair starts turning white, his right eye turns gold and he grows lil fangs. He’s also a bit stronger and a lot more agile than he used to be, and his senses are suddenly enhanced and overwhelming. Both of them freak out of course because they have no idea what happened. They go ask Vesemir who is also like ‘haha what the fuck’ and he goes and reads one of his old tomes.

Most Witchers are intentionally made through genetically modified embryos these days, because it’s more guaranteed to ensure a healthy purebred Witcher, but in previous centuries there were other ways they were made as well. Come to find out, the Witcher mutagens are transmittable through blood transfusion or sexual means, but only in special circumstances. Jaskier happens to have a specific rare gene that the mutagens take to and is now irreversibly half-Witcher.

Jaskier is a tad freaked out at first by all these sudden changes, handles it like the dramatic bitch he is, and tries to restore some normalcy, which really doesn’t work out for him. But he eventually accepts that his life now revolves around the dangerous supernatural world of the Witchers instead of an at least within-the-ballpark-of a normal life in the music industry.

Ciri is, of course, delighted by this turn of events and Jaskier’s permanent move to Witcher HQ. Thus ensues the pair’s endless shenanigans and mischief. So now the pack has to deal with training this dumbass little Witcher mutt to make sure he can handle his new mutations and keep him out of trouble caused by the terrible mixture of his established ADHD and new mutation-addled-instincts. Melitele have mercy on them.

Eventually everything falls into place and Jaskier settles into his new life as the latest Witcher pup of the pack, happily dating Geralt, surrounded by doting big brother wolves, causing mayhem with little Ciri, working at the cafe in his spare time, and occasionally being allowed to help with hunts (even though he generally causes more problems than he solves).

(Will be developed more in doodles and eventual fic, asks with questions/doodle prompts always welcome)

[mollymawkwrites]

Eskel/Jaskier: AU where Jaskier met Eskel instead of Geralt and wrote Toss a Coin for him instead - scar kissing/appreciation - "guess love is a response/of the body it haunts"

This took me longer to write than I would have wanted, so thank you for waiting! This is... pure fluff. Hope it’s worth the wait, thank you for the lovely prompt!

CW: mildly horny towards the end, but otherwise it’s only fluff!

"I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood."

Eskel raises his head from where he’s been staring at his spit flavoured ale to meet a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

The bardling can't be more than eighteen, fresh-faced and smelling of arousal as he looks at the Witcher appraisingly. Eskel expects him to recoil at the sight of his scars in the low tavern light, but the bard's eyes only widen with interest, and he slides into the opposite empty seat, leaning his lute against the table.

"Oooh, you're a Witcher, aren't you?" He asks with barely restrained excitement. "I could tell from the other side of the room you were filled with stories. How about I buy you an ale, and you tell me some of them?"

Eskel snorts. "And how are you planning to pay for that ale? Stale bread?" He nods towards the bulges where the bard stuffed the food thrown at him after his less than appreciated performance.

"Well, no," the man deflates, but not for long, his carefree smile returning along a flirty wink, "but I'm sure we can find an arrangement."

The Witcher rises from his seat, leaving his untouched ale and a couple of coins on the table. "I do not bed teenagers."

That earns him an offended splutter from the bard, who doesn't take the hint and follows him through the tavern. "I'm not… I can assure you that I am a man. An adult man." His voice breaks a little on the last syllable and Eskel smirks.

"Want to try that again?" He asks, but before the bard has a chance to reply, a man interrupts them. There is fear in his voice when he asks for Eskel's help with a so-called devil haunting his fields, and the way his eyes keep going back to the Witcher's scars shouldn't make Eskel so uncomfortable, but it does. He still accepts the job.

*

After the whole debacle with the elves, Jaskier follows Eskel back to the inn, strumming his lute with a spring in his step despite the bruise on his forehead and the tears in his doublet. Eskel informs the man who hired him of his deal with the elves, collects his meagre pay, and immediately spends half of it for a warm meal. He sits in the same corner as this morning, and forgets all about the whole ordeal for the time it takes to fill his stomach.

His peace is temporary, as Jaskier takes back his place in the middle of the room, undeterred by his earlier flop, and starts strumming the same melody he’s been composing on their way back to Posada. And then he starts singing.

The song is… embarrassing. Jaskier doesn’t pay attention to the first hollers and insults from the patrons who recognize him, his eyes rarely leaving Eskel, who sits still, mortified, as he discovers the lyrics at the same time as everyone else.

By the end, the complaints have turned to cheers and stomping, and Jaskier’s cheeks are ruddy with exertion. He accepts to play the song a second time, then follows with popular jigs and bawdy tales that have the drunks singing and the others getting drunker. His attention strays from Eskel, though he still spares him smiles and winks when he happens to pass by his table.

Eskel should leave, he knows. The sun will go down soon, and he still has to find a place to set up camp. But he’s stuck to the bench, people throwing coins at him, clapping him in the back. The bartender even slides a free ale in front of him, with a grateful though reluctant nod. It doesn’t even smell of spit.

A warmth spreads in his chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and it only flares brighter every time Jaskier sends a smile his way. It takes him a while to identify this emotion, practised as he is at ignoring them. It’s gratefulness. Not for the people thanking him for ridding them of the elves, though that is a nice change. No, he is the one being grateful for the bard who met an old, grumpy Witcher and decided to see a hero worthy of ballads instead.

Eskel knows the bard benefits from it too, his pockets clinking with coin, knows the friendliness of the villagers will only last as long as alcohol fogs their stereotypes and superstitions, but he can’t help but revel in it, hoarding warmth and comfort as much as he can before he goes back to the cold loneliness of the Path.

Just after the sun sets, but long before the impromptu party is over, Eskel slinks outside, stomach full, a little tipsy on ale and joy. He doesn’t want to wait until alcohol makes the mean ones meaner and pushes them to try starting a fight with him. The bard has earned his success, Eskel won’t be the one to ruin it. He meets Scorpion on the outskirts of the city, caresses his velvety nose as the horse sniffs at his pockets for some treats.

“That was a good day, boy,” the Witcher tells his horse. “We shouldn’t get used to it, though. That’s how you get disappointed.”

Traveling with a human is a change Eskel struggles to adapt to, though it is admittedly nice. The boy is a smart one, cultured and quick-witted, but he doesn't know anything about life. His noble upbringing quickly becomes obvious to Eskel, the lack of basic knowledge like making a fire or cooking food revealing themselves on the first evening of their acquaintance. Eskel doesn't mind teaching the boy. It seems like the thing to do to thank the bard for the song, and for the company. 

Before he finds himself maudlin longer, Eskel swings a leg over the saddle, and directs Scorpion to the South. Rapid footsteps echo behind him, and he turns to find the bard running in his direction, lute banging on his back and pockets heavy with the night’s earnings. The warmth that had bloomed in Eskel’s chest in the tavern buries itself deeper.

*

He doesn't expect the boy to stay long, maybe a week or two, until he's tired of sore feets and sleeping on hard ground, or he finds another "muse*, like he insists on calling Eskel.

But he stays, following Eskel everywhere, unless the Witcher insists he stays back at camp while he goes on a dangerous hunt, or he finds something of interest in a town they go through and decides to stay a couple more days. He always catches up, though, finding Eskel in whatever clearing he's set up camp and sitting at his side like they've never parted. It's nice, Eskel admits to himself. To have someone to talk to, about everything from music and art to monsters and magic. He finds himself brooding less and less, his mind focused on the colourful bard chatting next to him rather than on his own dark thoughts.

It comes slowly, he thinks, it buries itself under his skin, filling his every crevice without him noticing, but it's like falling from the edge of a cliff when he finally realises: he's happy.

He's been happy for a while. Since the ridiculous, optimistic, flirty bard entered his life.

He thinks about running, leaving Jaskier behind, before the inevitable happens and Eskel is left with a heart emptier than it was before. He could survive the loneliness when he had nothing else to compare it to; he's not sure he can go back to it now.

But he's not like his brothers, running from his feelings or translating all of them into anger. He takes the time to think about it, and decides that he'll take the risk. Jaskier doesn't look or smell like he has any intention of leaving Eskel's side for the moment, and Eskel has no intention of letting anything happen to the bard.

So he stays, and gets used to the company. It's surprisingly easy.

*

Winter is close, and Eskel finds himself feeling maudlin. Soon, Jaskier will head towards Oxenfurt to spend the season in warm lodgings, between some pretty girl's thighs, and wait for the sun to come back. Eskel will depart for Kaer Morhen, if he wants to get to the pass before it gets snowed in.

They've talked about it, and agreed to meet in the spring, but it doesn't keep Eskel from wishing they could stay together. He won't keep Jaskier from his plans, though, the bard sounding happy every time he mentions the friends he has at the Academy and his favourite inns to play at, where everyone, even the lowest drunkard, knows how to appreciate good music and poetry. 

He shouldn't ask for more, he knows. The bard already gives him so much; his friendship and his songs and his smiles.

The day before they part, they pay for a room in an inn close to the crossroad where they’ll have to say goodbye to each other, and Eskel spends the afternoon knees deep in murky water to rid the local pond of a particularly aggressive bloedzuiger. It’s not dangerous, just long and damp, and his already foul mood sours even more. Back at the inn, Eskel leaves muddy puddles on the way to their room.

Jaskier hasn’t moved from the bed, where he is writing down his latest composition in the leather bound notebook that never leaves his side, along with his lute. He raises his eyes as Eskel enters the room, nose scrunching up at the Witcher’s state.

“I asked for a bath,” Eskel grumbles, unbuckling his armour and putting it close to the crackling fireplace to dry.

“Oh, good,” Jaskier chuckles. “Everything suits you, my dear, but I can’t say I like the smell of dead fish on you.”

Eskel snorts, but doesn’t reply, as the innkeeper’s daughter knocks on the door and sets to filling a modest tub with tepid water. He thanks her, and waits for her to close the door behind herself before undressing completely and stepping into the bath. It’s not Kaer Morhen’s hot springs, but it does soothe the ache in his bones that always settles when it gets cold. He sighs, relaxing after the frustrating contract, and doesn’t notice Jaskier has moved until he’s right behind him.

It should unsettle him that the bard can sneak up on his Witcher senses, but it has become a recurring occurrence, and Eskel doesn’t mind it so much. He likes being able to lower his guard with someone who’s not his brothers or Vesemir.

Nimble fingers thread in his hair, and he suppresses a shudder at the pleasant sensation. “What are you doing?” he asks without opening his eyes.

“Helping you clean that mess,” Jaskier replies in a low voice, almost a murmur.

Eskel hums, not seeing a reason to refuse the offer. The bard’s fingers on his scalp feel divine, and a purr builds in his chest as he slowly melts into a puddle. “That feels nice.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t stop either, even when he’s done with Eskel’s hair. His hands trail down to the Witcher’s neck and shoulders, digging into the muscles there with both strength and care. Eskel’s hard prick bobs in the water, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He knows the bard would accept enthusiastically if Eskel were to proposition him; he hasn’t stopped smelling of lust and ogling Eskel even after all these months, but that’s not what the Witcher wants at the moment.

The hands on his shoulders have traded their massage for featherlight caresses, trailing down old scar tissue and up again, teasing and tickling the sensitive skin. Touch purely for touch’s sake. Eskel hums again and Jaskier chuckles, a puff of air brushing the damp skin of Eskel’s neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“Come with me to Kaer Morhen,” the Witcher says before he has time to talk himself out of it.

The silence that follows is short but Eskel has the time to regret everything that has led him to that moment, until a pair of soft lips caresses the curve of his shoulder, where a werewolf bit out a chunk of flesh thirty years ago and left only a jagged silver scar. Jaskier follows it from one end of the half-moon to the other, then breathes against Eskel’s skin, “I’d be honoured.”

And the warmth in Eskel’s chest makes itself a home there.

[eskelwolfed]

Geralt (@witchered) sent a prompt! [ SLEEVES ] : sender rolls up their sleeves to reveal their forearms.

Oh. Oh, this was...

Eskel didn't mean to stare, but he did, ultimately. How could he not? Geralt had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and now his strong arms showed and... oh well, that was a very strong biceps, too. Veins popping on his arms made Eskel swallow thickly. For whatever sick reason he was into this. Seeing some very strong arms that he could imagine holding him, those large hands grabbing him and maybe even - around his throat --

Eskel had to clear his throat very loudly and looked away in the distance. He shouldn't stare. Alys told him not to stare at people, even if it was in awe. She said it was rude.

Maybe it was, but what was even more rude was how attractive this guy was. Unfair. Absolutely utterly not fair in the slightest.

"So, umm, thank you for coming to the show... you've sent me a message or two on instagr.am, right? I recognize your face."

Where he didn't even look so far, if he met those eyes again he might fall for it and stare like an idiot. Having an attractive fan... or at least attendee from their second concert on this small tour (but first time headliner, yay!), that was something he wasn't ready for. And also not for the flirty tone and ... those arms...

"Also thank you for those messages, I've read all of them but I can't keep up with replying. Never mean to ignore anyone, really. But after that tv show it's become really chaotic. Lots of new faces and followers, things drown."

Oh great, now he was whining about first world problems... he was getting famous now and he whined over a clogged inbox... to a guy who he was weak for the second they exchanged glances.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt 2

holy fucking shit yall really loved the first one so I wrote some more

this is totally self indulgent tho. like yall have no idea. if i could live in any AU it would be this one. i have so many feels.

Warnings: drinking mention, nothing over the top, unwanted pics taken but like they’re celebrities? i guess, we get a bit emotional about past relationships/crushes but nothing too heavy

__________________________

Jaskier had no idea how he got there, but he was knocking on a green room door with a temporary label reading ‘The Witchers’ before the stadium had completely emptied. 

Lambert yanked the door open, Aiden clinging to his back like a monkey, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head before a huge grin spread over his face, “Hey there, Jaskier!”

Eskel grumbled, “Haha, Bert. No need to fuck with Geralt.” 

Jaskier shoved his hands in his corduroys and rocked up onto his toes, “He’s not fucking with anyone,” he laughed, desperately trying to keep the nerves out of his voice as he peeked around the door jam. 

Geralt was curled up in the corner of a couch, now wearing a massive grey-blue hoodie and gold wire-rimmed glasses, scribbling in a composition notebook propped up on his knees. His hair was pulled back in a disaster of a bun with pieces falling in his face but Jaskier absolutely loved it. It suited him. He hesitated a moment before scrawling one last line in his notebook, brow furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip.

When he looked up he snapped his notebook shut, “Holy fuck,” he breathed, “Hi!”

His eyes were actually gold. Jaskier had just thought that was some thirst driven exaggeration. He expected light brown, but no. He was staring directly at eyes that practically sparkled.

Lambert waved Jaskier in and he hesitantly stepped through the door, “Hi! I uh, dig your boots.” 

“Th- Thank you,” Geralt bit back a grin, blushing bright pink as he stood up, “I didn’t think you’d see my message. Or respond.” 

“After that performance?” Jaskier, normally bard-worthy with his quick tongue and easy conversation, was feeling his own cheeks heat up as he scrambled for something to say, “I’m honestly not sure if I even locked my car when I came back in.” 

Eskel snickered from behind Jaskier, stretching and putting his feet up on a coffee table, “Told ya.”

Aiden sighed and rested his chin on top of Lambert’s head, “This is so cute.”

Jaskier laughed, not entirely uncomfortably but definitely awkward, and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Geralt. 

Geralt pushed his glasses farther up his nose and snatched his wallet from the coffee table, “I offered drinks. You wanna…” Geralt trailed off and made an exasperated, and maybe a little annoyed face at the guys behind him but when Jaskier turned around they were pretending to mind their own business, “How does Pensive sound?” 

Jaskier shot him a grin, “Sounds perfect.”

Geralt snagged his keys from a bag and held the door open for Jaskier, “After you.” 

-

“Okay so,” Jaskier took a sip of his drink and set it in line with their two empty glasses and a napkin holder, “Aiden and Lambert fuck?” he asked, pushing an empty glass and the napkin holder together. Geralt snorted and nodded so he went on, “And Eskel and Lambert are brothers?” Another nod as he tapped the two empty glasses, “And you and Eskel were college roommates?” he asked, gesturing to his half-empty glass. 

Geralt grinned, “You know, you’re keeping up pretty well for a self-proclaimed lightweight.” 

Jaskier giggled, “I’m trying really fucking hard.” 

Geralt leaned his head back and laughed and Jaskier was absolutely done for. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand as he stared dreamily at this adorable man. He was carefree and soft around the edges, nothing like Jaskier had expected from the lyrics he’d listened to all night. And either he was a good listener or Jaskier had had one too many vodka-crans. 

When Geralt finally got himself under control he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes before placing them back on his nose with a grimace, “I shouldn’t have taken my contacts out.” 

“Old prescription?” 

Geralt blushed, “Don’t usually wear them in public,” He admitted, pushing the frames higher.

Jaskier must have had too much to drink because he reached out and tucked a curly strand of white hair behind Geralt’s ear, “I think they’re cute on you.” 

Geralt’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jaskier, jaw hanging down just a bit, his pupils blown wide. Jaskier bit his lip and smiled as he pulled his hand away and rested it on the table between them, hoping Geralt would get the hint. Gods he just wanted to hold his hand and giggle until the sun came up. 

“Thank you,” Geralt muttered, blinking a couple times and laying one of his hands over Jaskier’s. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Geralt licked his lips and nodded, shaking the hair loose that Jaskier had just tucked away. 

“Why that song?” Jaskier stared at their hands, not having the courage to look at Geralt in case the answer wasn’t what he wanted it to be. 

“Hmm…” he didn’t sound upset, but he was certainly choosing his words carefully, “I’ve done the whole.. How do I put it?” Jaskier looked up at him only to see him staring at their hands too, “...‘I could be enough for you if you’d let me’ dance more times than I can count… and knowing it would never happen but yearning anyway…” he chuckled and glanced up at Jaskier, a sad look of acceptance in his eyes, “And I love your voice.”

Of course, he’d heard those words before, it was his job to have a good voice, but fuck, they hit different coming from Geralt. He was so earnest and disarmingly handsome that Jaskier felt anything he said would make him giddy. His chest felt warm and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. He had planned on showering Geralt with praise and adoration, not the other way around. 

Jaskier squeezed his hand, “I love yours too,” he whispered.

There was that gorgeous blush again, making Jaskier’s heart skip a beat. 

“I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re not magnificent,” Jaskier mumbled, watching Geralt blush even deeper and dip his head so the loose hairs covered his face a bit. Jaskier may have been a flirty drunk, but he was one hundred percent sure he’d be just as forward with Geralt sober. He wasn’t leaving the bar without making damn sure Geralt knew he was gorgeous and talented and everything Jaskier could imagine wanting in life. 

“Careful. You can’t just say things like that,” Geralt warned, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a guarded but amused smile. 

“And why not?”

Geralt squinted at him for a moment, “I might believe you.” 

“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier started, sitting up and turning to square his hips toward him, holding his large hand in both of his, “I don’t mince words. I mean everything I say. And tweet. I really do think you’re wonderful. And I really do want you to sing me to sleep. Sometime. Anytime. I’m not picky.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows and took a breath in to say something but was interrupted by a camera flash in the low light of the bar and someone swearing.

“Oi!” Jaskier turned toward the light, and the idiot fumbling with their phone. 

Geralt squeezed his hand before he could say anything more, “It’s alright. The hair kinda glows in the dark, I’m used to it. I was thinking we could get out of here?”

Jaskier did his best not to let the sly smile take over his face and give him away, “Would you like to come to my place?”

Geralt grinned, “Absolutely. Mine is a shit show right now.”

“Is it really that bad?” Jaskier joked as they stood.

“Eskel is a slob,” Geralt laughed.

“Mine it is!” Jaskier declared, slapping enough cash to cover their drinks and an exorbitant tip on the table.

They walked out of the bar with Geralt’s arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, both with giddy smiles and a little extra pep in their step. 

[jaskierswolf]

A very happy birthday to @endrega23 🥳

Please accept my humble offering of Geraskier at Kaer Morhen! (1.6k)

________

Jaskier stared open mouthed at the great witcher keep of Kaer Morhen.

He’d been lucky enough to meet Geralt when he was just eighteen. His very first real witcher. Monsters were scarce these days thanks to the efforts of the witchers and most of the monster hunters had branched out, specialising in other trades to support themselves. Jaskier had even had a teacher at Oxenfurt from the School of Cat that had become a travelling bard several years before Jaskier had even been born. Aiden had served as great inspiration for Jaskier’s own chosen career path. Many of his professors had tried to get him to teach or at the very least find a cosy court to make his home. He was talented enough for either, but it hadn’t been enough for Jaskier. No. He wanted to travel the world just like Aiden had. He wanted to see what was left of the remaining monsters and immortalise them in song. He wanted to watch the monster hunters fight before their job became defunct.

Geralt had been that chance, the White Wolf, formerly the Butcher of Blaviken. Jaskier had clung to him like a leach and never let go, and after all these years his devotion had finally paid off? He was going to see the elusive witcher’s keep in the Blue Mountains. They’d met a few other wolf witchers along the way, most of their kind still returned home for winter, a tradition that had never been broken.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed in awe. The keep was magnificent. Snow coated the turrets of the tallest towers, and icicles hung down over the doors but more than anything… it was alive.

It was bristling with an energy that Jaskier had come to associate with Oxenfurt. Torches were lit all around the keep, some witchers were leading horses to the stables, others were sparring in the courtyard. There was a witcher sharpening a sword against a grinding stone in front of a huge blacksmith’s forge and he waved when he saw Geralt and Jaskier arrived.

“Geralt of Rivia!” The blacksmith set his sword aside and strode across the courtyard.

Jaskier’s eyes widened. The man had a vicious looking scar on one side of his face, twisting the broad smile in one corner, but aside from that and Geralt’s snowy white hair…. they looked almost identical. The same sharp jawline that Jaskier had felt under his fingertips, the same crooked nose that he frequently lavished with kisses, the same golden eyes that shone brighter than the sun, slitted like a cat and so unbearable radiant in beauty.

“Eskel,” Geralt greeted warmly and pulled the man, Eskel into a hug.

Jaskier watched the two men fondly, as Geralt pressed his nose until Eskel’s neck, scenting the other witcher. It had been strange the first time Jaskier had seen Geralt greet a fellow wolf witcher, but after almost a decade of travelling together he was more than used to it. Geralt explained that the different mutagens of different schools affected each witcher differently. For the wolves it had created a high familial instinct, which was a big part of why most of them still returned to Kaer Morhen for winter. It was a time to be with their pack once more.

“Oi! Geralt!” another witcher called, bundling over. He had long dark brown hair, tied up similarly to Geralt’s. Unlike Geralt and Eskel’s pale skin, he had tanned skin and his face was covered in freckles. He had the same golden eyes, and now that he came to think of it, all the wolf school witchers had warm yellow cat eyes.

Aiden’s eyes had been a sharp emerald green in contrast, and one of the witchers he’d seen at court had had startling blue eyes not dissimilar to his own, but with slitted pupils just like Geralt’s.

“Markus!” Geralt called and waved the brunet over. Like Geralt, he had two swords strapped to his back; another monster slayer. Markus and Geralt scented each other’s necks just like Geralt had done with Eskel, and their arrival was now drawing the attention of the others.

Jaskier chewed his lip as he waited. It was a strange feeling, not being the centre of attention. Normally it was Geralt that slunk into the background whilst Jaskier commanded the room, but it was different here. Jaskier was the outsider in Geralt’s home. His heart fluttered fast in his chest and he tried to quell the rising anxiety but he couldn’t. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head that he didn’t belong.

He shouldn’t have come here.

He was intruding.

An outsider.

Witchers were everywhere and he was the only human. Gods, why had Geralt invited him? He should be at Oxenfurt teaching, adored by his students, but he hadn’t been able to resist the idea of wintering with his lover, and it would have been rude to refuse after so many years of dropping hints and quietly pestering Geralt about spending the winter together.

Geralt’s laugh rumbled next to him. and familiar calloused fingers laced with his own. He started and looked at his witcher. Geralt wasn’t looking at him but had reached for his hand. Jaskier’s heartbeat must have given away his anxiety… a heartbeat that dozens of witchers could hear.

Oh fuck.

Would they even be allowed to have sex? Unless the walls were enchanted then Jaskier couldn’t imagine there were many secrets in Kaer Morhen. Geralt was a naturally private person, would he want to have sex when there were so many witchers able to listen in?

“And this is Jaskier,” Geralt introduced him, squeezing his hand tightly.

Jaskier blinked, the mention of his name pulling him from his thoughts. He plastered a wide smile on his face and extended his hand to the nearest witcher, Markus. “Hello, I’m Jaskier, Geralt’s boyfriend.”

“Markus,” came the gruff reply. “I cover Kaedwen with Lambert and Jonas.”

Jaskier nodded. “Right, yes, yes. I think Geralt’s mentioned that. We cross into Wolf territories all the time?” he glanced over to Geralt who gave a small nod.

“I roam between the Wolf territories, sometimes I’ll get a call from the bears if they need a hand,” Geralt reminded him.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose as he tried to remember the etiquettes of the witchers. It wasn’t as political as the Royalty and Nobles of humanity but he’d grown up learning about them so that was easy. He could name all the nobility and Royal families at the drop of a hat. Witchers laws were still a work in progress. Witcher territories were there to ensure that the monster slayers all had enough work to do and there would always be a witcher nearby to help the humans should a monster problem occur. It was deemed offensive to hunt in another school’s territory without permission, a slight on that school, but nothing that would end in bloodshed.

The only exception being the cat witchers.

They were quick to anger and fiercely protective of what was theirs. Jaskier had seen that one first hand. It had been a messy affair. He’d never thought of his fun and flirty professor in the same way ever again.

If Jaskier wanted to travel outside of the Wolf School’s land for bardic competitions then Geralt had to leave his swords and armour behind. It was almost like a holiday! Not Geralt was ever very happy about it. It made him angsty to travel without his swords, especially when bandits and monsters still roamed the forests.

“You have a beautiful home,” Jaskier sang sweetly, winking at Markus and giving the witcher a cheeky smile. “Much nicer than the bedrolls we’re used to, isn’t that right Geralt?”

“Hmm… save the charm for Vesemir, bard.”

Jaskier licked his lips. “Ah, right, well… doesn’t hurt to try?”

Geralt chuckled and pulled him closer, pressing his lips to Jaskier’s temple. “We don’t want to be late for dinner on our first night, let’s go bathe.”

“Oh if you insist,” Jaskier purred, running his fingers down Geralt’s chest.

“Actually bathe, Jask.”

“Pity.”

The other witchers roared with laughter. “You really weren’t kidding about this one, Geralt.” Eskel said in his deep bass tone that made Jaskier a little weak at the knees. Damn witchers were all so stunning. What was a bard to do?

“He’s a flirt, and he’s mine,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier did the only thing he could think of… he jumped at Geralt so that the witcher had to catch him in his arms. Geralt grunted under his sudden weight but caught him easily. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck, placing a sloppy kiss on Geralt’s cheek. “Yours, my love.”

Geralt hummed, a happy purr rumbling in his chest. “As I am yours.”

Jaskier’s heart fluttered, a giddy warmth spreading throughout his body despite the winter chill. “Mine,” he agreed and pulled his witcher into a kiss. Geralt softly lowered him back to the floor. As his feet hit the ground his hand cupped the back of Geralt’s neck, gripping the nape tight between his fingers. Geralt purred loudly and melted against him. Jaskier giggled against Geralt’s lips and wrapped an arm around Geralt’s waist to support him before he slid to the floor.

Neither of them paid any attention to the protests of the surrounding witchers. It had been a difficult journey up the mountain and Jaskier was happy to be home. Not at Kaer Morhen, but with Geralt, his home.

[officerjennie]

to have your hand in mine

Summary: Eskel doesn't know him and Jaskier are dating, and is pining because of it

CW: Pining, silly boys being silly

Taglist: at the very bottom - let me know if you want on/off it!

Jaskier’s fingers were never still. They wound themselves around Eskel’s endlessly. Tapped absent and nonsensical rhythms on his chest as they laid together - on the sofa, in bed, on a pile of blankets in the livingroom floor. Picked at lint on Eskel’s shirt and pulled hairs off of his clothes as they talked endlessly into the long hours of the night.

It was perhaps a bit unusual how focused Eskel was on that single part of him. Watching his fingers as they danced through the air, the flick of his wrist and the catching light on his bracelets, the different colors his nails were over the weeks and months.

He tried not to reach for them then. As they laid together on his bed, Jaskier fitting against his side, leg tossed haphazardly over Eskel’s. They were tap, tap, tapping away on his chest, a quiet tune on Jaskier’s lips, his humming the only thing keeping Eskel’s heartbeat from deafening the room.

They were long. Calloused from years of practicing string instruments, and yet so well cared for. Eskel had felt them intertwined with his own fingers so many times - Jaskier would reach for his hand casually while they were out for lunch or spending time together in the park, as if his friendly, flirty gestures didn’t send Eskel’s mind reeling and dry his throat.

Jaskier loved to flirt. To blur the line between friend and more. Eskel knew this, knew this was how Jaskier was, and yet his heart yearned for the ‘and more’.

“Not sure I could make the drive,” Jaskier murmured, turning his face to nuzzle into Eskel and making his breath catch in his throat. “Mind if I stay the night again, love?”

“Stay as long as you like.” He meant it.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Eskel could have sworn Jaskier pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder then, but it must have been wistful thinking. When the fingers stilled on his chest, Jaskier’s breath evening out and the last rays of light leaving the room in pitch darkness, he dared to cover them with his own.

-

@fontegagrilledcheese @unyielding-as-the-sea @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf @sulkyshengshou