#pining!jaskier

[maarigolds]

I, for one, am really glad that we as a society are finally starting to understand the importance of bards

Honorable mention:

[hannibard]

I want a fic where Jaskier is dying from hanahaki disease and Geralt finds out and confesses to save his life but Jaskier is like:

Jaskier: Um, I appreciate your feelings Geralt but I'm sorry, I stopped loving you like that a while ago...

Geralt: If not me then who?!

Jaskier: ...Yennefer

[wren-of-the-woods]

Hello! Thank you so much for what you do- could I please have some recs for geraskier fics where geralt is the one pining harder?

Here you go!! I wasn't sure how to categorize who was pining harder in all of these (since our boys are masters of longing lol) but these are all stories where Geralt loves Jaskier very much, and I highly enjoyed them all!

~

favorite by @asweetprologue (Rated G, 5.8k)

Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out.

i’ll kiss you slow by @paintedcrayons (Rated T, 4.9k)

Geralt is not being creepy. He’s not. He’s just looking out for his friend (with a questionable choices in lovers). Lately, Geralt has started to notice the way people treat Jaskier’s affection like a means to an end. They kiss him only to move to the next step, dance with him as pretense to get him into their beds. He would like nothing more than to kiss Jaskier for the sake of it. (He does.)

time and time again by @samstree (Rated G, 5.2k)

Marriage proposals, through the years.

The Best Laid Plans by @dhwty-writes (Rated T, 5.5k)

Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

A Friend in the Wild by @samstree (Rated G, 1.6k)

In which Geralt acquires a tiny friend who wouldn't stop following him.

Weak and Wanting by @sociallyawkward--fics (Rated T, 36k)

Geralt had thought that inviting Jaskier to Kaer Morhen after all these years would be a good thing. What he didn't plan on was his brothers deciding to have a little fun with their situation. Lambert and Eskel really needed to stop meddling in things they didn't understand, especially when it came to his bard.

Tell It With Your Heart by @bambirex (Rated G, 2.5k)

While Jaskier always says what's on his mind, Geralt works a little differently. That doesn't mean he cannot tell Jaskier how he feels - he just does that without words.

Repeat After Me by @onwardorange (Rated G, 7.3k)

All it takes is (nearly) three years, two meddlesome brothers, and one exasperated sorceress to get Geralt to admit his feelings for Jaskier.

Love Me Better, Send A Letter by @rebrandedbard (Rated T, 12.5k)

Geralt and Julian have been exchanging letters since participating in an inter-school pen pal program in high school, and Geralt has been pining away for Julian for over a decade since meeting by chance one faithful day in Posada. Between work and Ciri, he hasn't had much time for travelling, but he and Julian still exchange their letters faithfully. Finally, Julian's equally busy life coincides with Geralt's long enough for a short visit, and Geralt has the chance to finally introduce Ciri to the man she knows only on paper. Things would be perfect ... if Julian's visit didn't fall within the week of the concert of Ciri's favorite musician, Jaskier.

Music is no solution by @thecrownprincessbride (Rated T, 4.3k)

Jaskier has self-doubts, and Geralt is there for him.

A Careless Omission by @samstree (Rated T, 5.4k)

Jaskier reveals he has a type. Geralt behaves strangely.

Highway Angel (To the Dark I Said Pour and Forgot to Say When) by @fangirleaconmigo T, 2.8k

Geralt is a long haul truck driver. With long stretches on the road away from his family, and with no one to keep him company but his loyal dog Roach, he has to brave most of his life completely alone. Then one day, just as he is passing the city of Oxenfurt, he turns on the radio and hears a voice.

zero for ten by @yaelathewordsmith (Rated T, 10.4k)

The blue-eyed boy on the school's cricket team seems determined to bowl Geralt out. The worst part is, he isn't even fucking trying. * Or, the ten times Jaskier held Geralt's heart in his hands without knowing, and how Geralt grew to want him to keep it.

~

(You can find my other reclists here!)

[wolvesandfoxes25]

"You should leave."

Jaskier looked up quickly from where he was writing lyrics.

"I beg your pardon?"

Geralt wasn't looking at him, eyes facing the adjacent side of the hut.

"Leave for Oxenfurt...or Redania. Find that Prince you fucked."

Jaskier felt his stomach lurch.

How did he know about that?

Clearing his throat, he shoved his booklet into his coat.

"I'm not sure what you're playing at Geralt, but I've no intention of leaving."

He was still facing away.

"You're wasting your time here. I'm sure the noble could provide you with many adventures."

The words came out sardonically and snappish.

Jaskier felt whiplash at the statement.

"We enjoyed our time together. Until afterwards." He mumbled the last part, feeling the same dreg of anger at Radovid come to the forefront. Even if he had apologized, it hadn't changed what he'd done.

What Jaskier hoped he wouldn't do.

He wasn't looking to marry the man, but a romance that was his, where he wasn't pining and panting after someone who would never love him, well, it would've been nice.

"Cut from the same cloth, I bet you did." Geralt growled.

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows.

"And just what do you mean by that?"

Silence.

"You've no right to judge me based on my dalliances, Geralt."

How had the conversation come to this point?

"Dalliance?" Geralt asked, eyes finally turning to Jaskiers.

The brunette looked sideways, being pinned under the weight of those eyes had always been too much for him.

"Where did you learn this anyway?"

Silence.

The dryads were little gossipers then.

"You cared for him." Geralt grit out.

Jaskier pinched his lips together, feeling as if this were an interrogation.

Silence.

Sighing loudly, Jaskier turned his gaze back to the Witcher.

"It felt nice. With him, I felt I was actually being seen. He learned my songs, even if knowing them was just for nefarious reasons. I-I was... lonely. Being back in the thick of this isn't always easy."

Geralt took in his expression his nostrils flaring.

"It used to be."

Jaskier blanched.

That was before Yennefer was everywhere.

He couldn't blame Geralt and Yennefer for their feelings for each other. But, it wasn't easy to always have it in his face.

"Age tends to change things." He murmured, hoping the other man believed the lie.

Geralt grunted.

Guess not.

Jaskier felt the tension in the room thicken.

"Had I known you went for poncey little Princes, I would have left you at a royal court to do their bidding long ago."

Knashing his teeth together, Jaskier stood up in a furious flourish.

"I don't know why you're being such a bloody bastard to me, but I'm not your punching bag, Geralt! Those days are over! Do you understand me?"

The Witchers eyes flashed and he pulled himself up into a piteous representation of sitting up.

"Fuck you."

Jaskier hissed.

"Fuck me? Fuck you." He fired back at Geralt.

What was happening right now? Why was Geralt behaving this way?

The two of them stared each other down.

"I don't know how you can sit there and have the bleeding audacity to berate me over a potential partner."

The golden eyes narrowed.

"Meaning?" He hissed.

Jaskier felt the anger start to build higher and higher.

"You have your great romance! Yennefer! Your sweet little family! Then there's me, who you tossed away like yesterdays porridge!"

Geralt moved to get up, but hissed at the pain.

"Don't do that, you idiotic lump of a man!" Jaskier chided him, moving to shove him back.

Geralt pushed him away, catching his breath to gather himself to his feet.

"Yennefer healed me, I told you that." He snapped, flinging his cane away.

Jaskier watched him sway, but he rolled his shoulders, catching himself.

"But we both know your leg is still giving you trouble, Geralt."

The Witcher glared.

"Easy to leave then, huh? Just like you did on the mountain."

Jaskiers jaw dropped, feeling his balance shift at the fury that ran through him.

"You have the unmitigated, bleeding gall to say that to me? You blame me!?" He yelled.

Geralt scowled, looking away from him in what seemed like shame.

Suddenly... it all made sense.

"You're jealous." Jaskier whispered.

The Witcher moved to leave the hut but Jaskier grabbed his arm to halt him.

Geralt growled.

"How in all the hells are you jealous? You have never expressed anything regarding romantic affections towards me. Ever."

"All those women you were constantly fucking was supposed to tell me otherwise?" Geralt replied sarcastically.

Jaskier threw his hands up in frustration.

"You could've asked me!"

Geralt said nothing as the other man set his hands down upon the bedding of the cot.

"You have got to be the most stubborn, burlish lout I have ever met in my existence upon this earth."

Silence.

"You have no idea how I fe-."

But he stopped himself, the words clogging his throat.

The truth he had figured long long ago. And had told no-one, not Vespula, not the Countess, nobody.

Yennefer had probably guessed after hearing his song in the tavern, but said nothing in reference to it.

Thank the Gods.

"I don't want to continue this conversation further. If you want me to fucking leave so badly, I'll leave. And I'll go back to Radovid and suck his cock in his pretty little throne room. Would that make you happy, Geralt?" He snarled, shoving past him to get some air outside, when a hand clamped over his wrist...

TBC?

[inanoldhousewrites]

Geraskier makes me a little bit crazy because over the three seasons, it changes so much, but it's not very noticeable from an outsider's view.

Season 1, Jaskier is in love with Geralt, but Geralt is not in love with Jaskier, but Jaskier is trying to change Geralt's mind. He's optimistic. He keeps giving little lead-ins: "and yet here we are," "we could go to the coast," etc. Geralt never even looks that direction and in the end sends him away.

Season 2, Geralt is not in love with Jaskier, and Jaskier has decided not to be in love with Geralt. He's still his friend, that's inarguable, but he holds him at arm's length. He doesn't push in to be closer. They are friends and that's all.

Season 3 ends with Jaskier in love with Geralt and Geralt not in love with Jaskier. But this time, Jaskier seems to have accepted it. He's not trying to win Geralt's affections, he only wants to be with him, to help him however he can.

Their relationship has changed so much and the thing that gets me is that Geralt never seems to acknowledge it. Jaskier does, even Yennefer does, but Geralt doesn't. I'm so curious how they are going to move forward from here in season 4 and if it ever gets properly addressed.

[geekwarriorgoddess]

Fanfic promt:

Geralt falls hard and fast for Jaskier. And he's furious. Nearly 100 years and he's never been such a fool. Even how he loves Yen doesn't make him this stupid. The DOTING. I mean, he let's Jas pet roach, and Travel with him, and bathe with him, and rub lotion on his bum. Lotion. On his bum. What a sap he's become. It's embarrassing. Of course everyone knows about it, he's just grateful no one (especially Jaskier) has been cruel enough to mention it.

Basically: Geralt thinks he's acting like a fool in love, but literally no one but Eskel and Yen know about it. He thinks Jas is being kind, but actually Jas just doesn't even believe they're friends most of the time. Geralt is too stoic for feelings

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt #3

Geralt is the spirit of winter. He brings death and sickness wherever he goes. He understands when the people in towns shun him and cower in fear rather than greeting such a powerful being. He's just kind of... Grown used to the hatred. The fear. Humans don't like him. He is nothing but death. A killer. It's near the end of his time, this year. The seasons will change and he can stop tormenting the poor humans. He doesn't like his job, but it's the only job he can do. The world needs winter. Just like how the world needs spring. But spring just... Isn't coming. Where is the spring spirit? Thus the spirit of winter goes on a journey atop his trusted mare to find the lost spirit of spring, only to come across him captured by idiotic humans and on the edge of life. Winter defeats the villains and brings the spirit of spring back to his own home to watch over him as he heals. When the spirit of spring, Jaskier, comes to, Geralt finds it hard to dislike him. No wonder the humans love spring so much. It's bringer sings nearly all words and soothes with every move he makes. Geralt is sure the spirit of spring could never even grow to like him, let alone love him. This becomes a problem, because Geralt is growing head over heels with Spring's Spirit as he hosts his convalescence.

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Jaskier has always looked up to the spirit of winter, and has just been afraid to introduce himself (perhaps even already having made songs about him)

• Maybe instead of just normal humans, perhaps Jaskier was kidnapped by mages

• Perhaps we could also meet the spirits of autumn and summer. Eskel and Lambert? Yen and Ciri? Triss?

• Geralt is afraid to touch Jaskier in fear of making his flowers and goodness and warmth die (Jaskier wants nothing more than for Geralt to touch him)

[tielmamon]

They stiffle another set of giggles as Jaskier and Ciri hide behind a few trees, spying on Geralt and Yen as they navigate their complicated little partnership once again. The young warrior bites her tongue, beaming at how Jaskier pitches his voice a few octaves higher, trying and failing to mimic Yen. In her opinion, she's say he sounds more like he's been kicked in the balls than anything else.

"You're unbelivable!" He shakes his head dramatically.

"You're delusional!" She almost coughs at the gruffness of her own voice.

They smile and for once in a long, long time Ciri feels...light. She feels like she's actually 15 and not the continent's number one target or the actual harbinger of the apocalypse. She sees Jaskier smile as bright as sunshine, in Geralt's words though she might just secure her death if she ever told anyone that. Not for the first time, she feels an immese wave of gratitute towards him. This silly man who always tries, no matter how grim and depressing everything gets, to make her smile. To reassure her, to talk to her as simply her- not a witcher in training, not a novice mage, not a future queen-to-be.

Once upon a time, she might have hated him for speaking to her like this, like she was a child. Now? She finds herself deeply comforted by that, by him and his words.

She suspects Geralt felt a similar sentiment when he and Jaskier travelled together.

In the distance, they see Yen reach to cradle Geralt's cheek, the other leaning into her touch. Such a horridly cheesy scene to witness, Ciri thinks with a hint of fondness and alot of disgust for her parents-of-suprise. Another quip forms on her tongue but just as it escapes, she turns to her companion and-

Oh.

His face falls, demeanor more serious and...sad. Ciri, with creeping concern realizes that his eyes turn glassy. Jaskier's eyes stay glued on the pair, in a way that is tired. Like he's seen this moment a thousand times before.

"I forgive you...for your various foolish words and deeds. For your lack of faith and hope. For your obstinancy. Doggedness..." This time, Jaskier says these words in his own voice, slightly shakey and whispered. At this point, Ciri is no longer looking at the pair infront of them. She's seen the same forlorn look on both of her parent's faces before, when they were hopping between homes. Everytime Yen looks at Geralt when he doesn't let her in the house. Everytime Geralt reads another letter tacked on the door smelling of lilac and gooseberries.

Everytime she asks Geralt why he stopped travelling with his bard after decades of companionship.

Heartbreak. That's what Jaskier looks like, Ciri realizes. Suddenly, she's overcome with the urge to hug the man beside her, comfort him like how he has to her. The two kiss and she doesn't dare look at Jaskier when they do.

"Jaskier?" She notes the heavy pause before he eventually answers.

"Yes, dear?" He's smiling again, she can hear. How real it is, she can't say. Reaching for his arm, she squeezes.

"Let's go. I'm bored." She hears a chuckle before she feels him get up. They both can't help but glance back at the couple once more, now in an intimate embrace. Ciri pushes the bard towards their cottage, ignoring the sniffle she hears or the quick wipe of hid cheek disgused as a scratch.

"Come on, you deviant." They walk back to the cottage in silence.

Part 2 (x)

[feral-harpy]

I really want more fanfics of Jaskier saving geralt from some Bandits / Nobleman / other by lying that he is his witcher and wouldn't hurt anyone without his permission. And then he would have to prove it.

The whole time Geralt is planing how they could get out of this situation until he hears Jaskier calling him his and everything freezes while he feels his heart hammering in his chest. And in his mind he is like Fuck. He definetly felt something when Jaskier said that.

[dapandapod]

Particular with nicknames

Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.

It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.

His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.

Well, it did not.

Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.

It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.

Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.

They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.

All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.

Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!

No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.

Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.

But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.

“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.

It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.

Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.

He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.

“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.

“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.

Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.

Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?

Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.

It’s fine. He will be fine.

It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.

It is not fine.

Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.

Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.

Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.

While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.

“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”

Jaskier drops the banana.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.

Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.

Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.

Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.

Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.

Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.

He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.

How is his poor heart to cope?

Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.

Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.

Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.

“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.

The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.

“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.

“Sexy? Doubt that.”

Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.

‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.

It should be fine. He is fine.

Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.

It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.

The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.

Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.

His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.

Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.

“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.

Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.

Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.

“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.

In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.

“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.

Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.

“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.

It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.

“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.

“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.

“Sure! Uh… What is it?”

Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.

His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.

Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.

“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.

“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”

With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.

“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.

“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.

In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.

It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.

Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.

“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”

“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.

“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I���d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.

“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.

Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”

“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.

“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.

“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.

He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.

“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.

“Gmmrmgmg.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.

“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”

Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.

They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.

When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.

It’s alright.

When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.

[ikeepwatchinghelicopters]

Random thought: A Witcher AU where Jaskier is an actor and Geralt does historical european martial arts (I hope that's the correct term; basically he's an expert on old styles of sword fighting). Jaskier gets a role in a big movie set in historical or fantasy setting and he must learn how to wield a sword. At least a bit. Cue Geralt and lots and lots of lessons where Jaskier trying to focus very hard because he's supposed to be a professional, but also mostly failing because Geralt's just way too hot.

[readingnreccing]

Geralt Discovers His Prostate by Bourneblack

the witcher | explicit | 9k | geraskier | complete | porn with feelings 

“A prostitute put a finger up my ass,” Geralt says. Jaskier’s brain stutters to a stop, the swiftly begins anew. “That is… quite the mental image. How was, uh, that?” “It felt good.” OR Geralt learns Jaskier sometimes has sex with men, and can't stop thinking about the process. Also, drowners covered in sewage water.

Geralt hears that Jaskier also has sex with men. And gets curious. How does it actually work? How can it be pleasurable? So he does what needs to be done and decide to ask a prostitute about it, and like the title says, discovers his prostate. But that doesn't feel like it's enough, because it's Jaskier! So, it's actually super sweet in a Geralt kind of way, Geralt and Jaskier talk. And the smut is super hot!

Author’s tags: Sexuality Crisis, Mutual Pining, Feelings Realization, Kink Discovery, power bottom geralt, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Service Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Humor, Fluff, Smut, Sits somewhere in the show canon, but idk where, Geralt discovers his prostate, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion is kinda along for the ride, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, unbeta'd we die like mne, Jaskier just wants to braid his Witcher's hair

Remember to leave feedback to the author! <3   @bourneblack

[hannibard]

Nothing to see here, just Jaskier pining as usual

[statisticallymorelikely]

Happy birthday @ironpe!

Witcher au edit: Older Bard Chris Pine x Jaskier

Jaskier meets Older Bard Chris Pine in university, the other being a few years older and an absolute breath of fresh air among the drab scholars in academia and Jaskier naturally gravitates to him. He’s fun, flirty, charismatic and speaks so passionately about stories and love and beauty that fellow students would gather around him whenever he cared to share his musings.

He and Jaskier spend hours reading together in the library, silently penning poems on a piece of paper they pass back and forth, eyes shining with mirth, lips turned in smiles secretly shared. Jaskier has what he calls ‘the tiniest crush’ on him but what everyone else calls a ‘debilitating infatuation’. Some nights, Older Bard Chris Pine sneaks wine into Jaskier’s room and they pull the most beautiful melodies from thin air, drunk half on wine and half on the joy of creation, flushed with laughter, convinced of their own genius, skin tingling as they sit shoulder to shoulder.

Jaskier often imagines him whispering poetry into his ear while he fucks him into the bed. 

But alas, nothing further happens between them, Older Bard Chris Pine graduates and soon enough Jaskier does too. He stays for a while to attempt life in academia, gets bored out of his wits and sets off for adventure. He meets Geralt, gets into all sorts of trouble with him and creates his best songs. It’s a pleasant enough existence, seeing the world, traveling with his best friend he’s kind of in love with but who never even acknowledges their friendship, sleeping under the stars, grabbing inspiration from anywhere and everywhere. 

Most times, it’s enough to see Geralt’s sharp eyes watching him from across the campfire, something akin to longing in that gaze, but sometimes, he misses the touch that came with the easy camaraderie he had in school, elbows digging into his side, knees knocking together, fingers sliding clumsily against each other on the lute. He can’t hope for that from Geralt, not yet, maybe not ever, since the only time Geralt has ever touched him is to push him out of the way or to save his life.

Needless to say, Jaskier has some needs that aren’t being met. And that’s not even counting his desperation for something soft to sleep on. Witching jobs have been hard to come by lately so Jaskier has become very familiar with his bedroll and the cold hard ground. It’s this desperation that drives them into town one night, looking for shelter.

He hopes to get a room in the inn and pay for it with the money he earns singing. Geralt will be going to the alderman first thing in the morning to look for jobs but who knows if he’ll get paid at all. Unfortunately, there’s already a bard playing when they enter. Disappointing. Jaskier suggests they try a different inn but as they’re leaving, someone calls out his name. 

And of course, it’s none other than his crush from back at school, only he’s nearly silver now, a little more muscle, weathered by adventure yet somehow even more attractive than before. His eyes crinkle when he smiles and Jaskier’s knees threaten to buckle when he realizes that smile is all for him.

Jaskier tries very hard not to get hard when Older Bard Chris Pine pulls him in for a tight hug, big, warm hands sliding around his waist. He feels a flush creep up his cheeks but there’s a lingering unease at the back of his neck, waves and waves of anger pouring in from one direction. Jaskier looks back and Geralt looks absolutely murderous, more so than usual, but he doesn’t say anything, just glares. 

Jaskier pulls away, quickly introducing Geralt to his senior from Oxenfurt.

“So! You’re the muse, huh? The infamous White Wolf,” says Older Bard Chris Pine, cheerfully extending his hand. Jaskier has to admire his courage, not many people would shake hands with a Witcher, and a grumpy one at that. Jaskier tracks Geralt’s gaze to the arm casually slung around his waist and fights the urge to explain and placate. Geralt looks like he’s going to break Older Bard Chris Pine’s arm off, and that kind of possessive reaction stirs something hot in Jaskier’s chest, but if he really wanted to, Geralt would have already done it, so the hesitation dampens Jaskier’s hopes.

Jaskier is jostled from his thoughts when the hand on his waist tugs at him, focus drawn back to blue eyes. “What?”

“Oh, darling, you haven’t changed, have you? I was asking if you wanted to catch up. In fact, I insist on it. These fine folks can do without music for a night, right?” 

Jaskier opens his mouth, sees Geralt’s furious expression once more, closes his mouth for a moment before opening it again. “Of course! Nobody’d miss your scratchy strumming, anyway.”

A bright smile spreads on his old friend’s face. “Great! Dinner’s on me!” 

Surely, there’s no harm in agreeing to this.

Except his old friend seems to be doing everything he can to drive Jaskier insane. He parks himself next to Jaskier in a tight cramped table, pressing his thighs against his, looping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close to laugh so his breath tickles at Jaskier’s neck as he tells Geralt embarrassing stories of Jaskier at school. (Enough ale has passed through their table that Geralt’s loosened up slightly, and seriously, if you let him talk enough, Older Bard Chris Pine can charm the pants off anyone and now, Jaskier wants to claw his own eyes out because he’s suddenly imagining him with his pants off.) Jaskier is extremely aware of every point of contact, each of them sending pleasant buzzes across his nerves.

Then there’s also the way he looks at him, like Jaskier has always wanted in the past, the way he smiles so fondly at him, gaze holding something hot behind those blue, blue eyes, drawing him in and holding him captive. When he absently licks his lips to chase some ale, Jaskier’s eyes flick down and he has to fight the urge to lean forward and taste him himself. Gods, every single embarrassing daydream he’s ever had is all coming back to him and it’s all too much.

He needs some air.

So, he excuses himself to get some, reassures Geralt with a look and steps out into the cold night so he can gather himself together. He stays in the alley next to the inn to brood and untangle his mess of feelings because what is going on? It’s frustrating how hot and bothered he is. It’s like he’s gone back in time to the pathetic besotted student he used to be. He blames Geralt and his missions because he hasn’t had a decent wank in a while, they’ve been so busy.

Normally, if he likes someone he just goes for it (barring his thing with Geralt, of course, that matters too much to be handled casually), a predator in his own right, but now, he feels like prey. Maybe it’s just him regressing to his younger self. He used to know next to nothing about the world and about pleasure but now, he’s more experienced and confident but one smile and all that goes flying out his head. Maybe he's just horny and wants to get taken care of once in a while. Maybe it’s because his friend actually wants him, unlike someone else in his life.

He's so close to a realization when he's knocked out of his own thoughts by a rumbling laugh next to his ear. Older Bard Chris Pine is leaning right next to him, and Jaskier wills himself not to startle.

“Where’s Geralt?”

“I offered him a room with a bath, and he took me up on it.”

“Oh.” That answers that question then, Jaskier thinks. Maybe he should stop feeling guilty about this if Geralt isn't going to care in the first place.

“Y’know, it’s been wonderful catching up with you, Jaskier. Really made me remember the good old times, our afternoons huddled together in the library, or nights in your room.” Older Bard Chris Pine murmurs softly enough that Jaskier has to lean closer to hear him. “I still remember the pretty picture you painted, sunlight in your hair, and pink lips curled around your pen.”

He runs his fingers gently against Jaskier’s fringe, down his cheeks, thumb running against his bottom lip and Jaskier sighs. He’s had enough.

He fists a hand into Older Bard Chris Pine’s coat and reels him into a kiss. It’s hot and heavy and when Older Bard Chris Pine slips his tongue in his mouth, his brain finally gives up. He had every intention of being aggressive and redeeming his pathetic demeanor all night, but then Older Bard Chris Pine is pressing him into the wall and his knees go weak.

Jaskier scrambles, fisting his hands in his friend’s hair as he starts to suck on a soft spot on Jaskier’s neck, right over his pulse. They’re pressed so close, chest to chest, thigh to thigh but he wants more, wants to get impossibly closer. This is everything he used to dream of and by gods, he’s going to get justice for his younger self! Older Bard Chris Pine shifts and slots a thigh between Jaskier’s legs and he doesn’t have enough willpower not to rut into it.

“Fuck...”

And then the rumbling laugh is back in his ear. “Be glad to.”

They fall into bed in a separate room from Geralt’s and Older Bard Chris Pine takes care of him gloriously, taking him apart with his mouth and his fingers and his cock. Jaskier gets to have his old fantasy come true. He gets fucked into the bed with poetry in his ear and it’s much, much better than he ever dreamed because it’s poetry about him, and if this is what worship feels like then no wonder the gods get drunk on it. 

They fuck for hours and by the end, Jaskier is thoroughly owned and marked, all covered in bruises and love bites and his hole is so sensitive he’s thankful Geralt won’t let him ride on Roach. He’s sticky with sweat, sated and exhausted, and falls asleep in a warm embrace

In the morning, he wakes up to Older Bard Chris Pine half dressed and getting ready to set off. But when he sees Jaskier awake, he stops his packing to go crawl up the bed again and kiss him senseless.

“I have to go, my party’s leaving by noon,” he says, genuine regret in his voice. 

Jaskier is a little sad but he never expected anything different anyway. He knows this was a one night affair and he’s glad he had it. For younger Jaskier’s sake. Maybe his present self too.

But there’s still a few hours before noon and he bets Geralt has already gone to see the alderman for a job. There's no sense in wasting this time overthinking, so he seduces Older Bard Chris Pine for one last tumble in the sheets and gets enough orgasms to last him a few more cold months with his hand.

Before he finally leaves though, Older Bard Chris Pine looks Jaskier over in all his debauched glory and grins widely, pleased at his own handiwork. Jaskier can just imagine what he looks like, hair all over the place, love bites scattered all over his body, lips bitten red. 

“Yes, that’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.” He runs his thumb against one particularly violent bruise right in Jaskier’s pulse point in his neck. “This one. You can’t cover this one up.”

His grin widens, smug. “Your muse is going to be furious.”

And with that he swans off and leaves Jaskier to wonder what he meant by that and how he knew because Geralt was indeed furious.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

Jaskier singing about Geralt..

[anyanpre]

Okay, listen

Geralt pining really fucking hard, and it’s so obvious he’s in love that Jaskier notices. However, what Jaskier doesn’t realize is that Geralt pining after him.

When Jaskier friendly confronts Geralt about him being so clearly in love and asks who was the lucky person to get the witcher’s attention, Geralt panics — he can’t let Jaskier know about his stupid unwanted affections that would definitely make the bard leave, or worse, pretend that he loves Geralt back and then, when it’s too much for him to keep the charade, leave — so Geralt says that he’s in love with /insert literally any character here/.

So Jaskier being a good friend, tries to help Geralt to court his “beloved”.

Jaskier quietly dying inside from a heartbreak, but he’s a good friend damn it! He will be the best wingman possible for Geralt, even if it kills him.

Geralt is extremely uncomfortable, because he’s kind of forced to court a person he isn’t interesting in, and also completely heartbroken over how eager Jaskier in helping him to “get the girl”.

They both idiots.