Requests Are Closed

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s certainly not opposed to watching you collect his cum off your skin and lick it off your fingers but Jaskier does like to finish inside you whenever possible. You both know there’s the inherent risk of pregnancy because of it, but you both get so lost in the moment, you’re not actually bothered that much. And if the time comes when you do fall pregnant, then Jaskier will be over the moon that he gets to do it all with you. He wants nothing more than to have a family, and he knows he absolutely wants it with you, as long as you want it with him too. But yeah, he likes to finish inside you, and does quite like to watch it run out of you too.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Wants to be pegged. He absolutely loves when you take control in the bedroom and fuck him for all his worth as you ride him. But he’d love for you to actually fuck him one day. He likes to be at your mercy, and he’d love to just completely let go and get you have your way with him like that. The normally silver-tongued bard isn’t usually shy with his words, but he’s just not sure how to bring this up to you. He’ll ask one day, he’s sure, but he’s nervous about what you’ll say so he’s kept quiet about it so far.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jaskier’s got a reputation. Many women have had the Viscount of Lettenhove sneak them away from their husbands for the night and bed them. So he’s certainly experienced. And he absolutely knows what he’s doing, and he does it very well. But everything was different when he met you. He’s never had a real connection with someone before. But from the very first time with you, he knew what you has was special.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’ll have you anyway he can. Anyway you’ll let him, frankly. He has a soft spot for having you in his lap where you can control the pace but he can also rut up into you. Likes to be able to kiss you while you’re going at it, and to look in your eyes as he whispers sweet nothings to you. Or so he can say the dirtiest things you can imagine and watch as your cheeks burn at his lewdness. He can be rough and fast and have you from behind sometimes but yeah, he’s more than happy to let you take control of things and let you have your way with him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jaskier is a huge goof. Yes he can be tender and loving and serious in the moment, but he is absolutely a joker too. He wants to please you, but he also wants to make you smile and laugh. He always wants you to be happy, and this extends to the bedroom. He’s cracking jokes or singing silly lines from his songs to make you laugh. He’s especially giggly if you’ve both had a few drinks and are a little tipsy. Those are some of your favourite times with him. Neither of you have a care in the world as you get lost in the feeling of each other, all touchy-feely and giggling as you work yourselves up to release.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps everything neat and tidy. Jaskier cares a lot about his appearance, and he makes an effort to look presentable all the time. So he’s always keeping everything down there trimmed and neat when he has the chance. If you’re out and about and on a long journey, things might get a little unruly depending on how long you’ve been travelling. But as soon as you’re back in an inn or home, he’s doing some tidying up. If you told him you’d prefer it all gone, he’d do it. But he knows you like the little scratch of hair against you sometimes, so he leaves a little something for you to enjoy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Full of romance. Are you kidding me? He’s all over you, whispering sinfully sweet compliments in your ears and telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t believe his luck. Telling you that if the muses stop talking to him one day, it’ll all be fine because they sent him you in their place. That he could write a million songs about you and he’d never grow tired of singing them. He adores you, and loves any chance to prove it. Loves to be pressed against you, showing you how much he loves you. King of romance and intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he’d rather be buried in you, sometimes needs just have to be taken care of, and he’ll get himself off if you’re not around or not in the mood. He’s got a very overactive imagination though, so he just has to put his mind to work thinking of you and he can get it over with fairly quickly. I feel like sometimes he could also indulge himself and use like fancy lotions or something, or maybe he has like an item of your clothing that’s been sprayed with a bit of your perfume or something so he can visualise you. I also feel like he’d be the type to do it in front of you, if you asked him to? Or perhaps enjoy a bit of mutual masturbation?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

PRAISE!!! Love love loves to hear how good he is. And this applies to any and every situation! Loves when you tell him he wrote something beautiful. Loves when you gush over his performances. And he can’t get enough of the way you tell him he feels amazing when he’s buried deep inside you or he’s got his mouth on you. He loves to know he’s doing a good job. I could also see Jaskier liking to be tied up and teased until he’s practically begging for some kind of release.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed or bath. They’re his favourites. Loves the comfort of a bed, but loves the fun of the bath. He’ll happily have sex with you anywhere, but if he’s making a decision he wants to be able to be comfy and stretch you out over a bed. Or have you in his lap. Or laying with your back against his chest in the bath, overwhelmed by the scents of oils and salts and you. Relaxing in the bath and just slowly moving against one another as you get clean is where you can both be really loving and intimate.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Loves you being sassy or quick-witted. You’re always ready to fire back at his wit with equal passion, and he adores it. Also gets very turned on by you holding his lute or attempting to play it. As well as you singing along to his songs. And gods, he’s caught you playing little tunes on his lute before and the sight and sound has him turned on immediately. You in a flimsy, kinda see-through nightdress? Stunning. A couple of occasions when you’ve gotten into skirmishes and you’ve defended yourself and him, he’s trying real hard to contain his erection. Especially if you’re brandishing some kind of weapon too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t want to share. Ironic, considering his past and how he would bed married women. But now he has you, he can understand why those men were always so angry at him. He doesn’t want anybody else touching you, pleasing you, enjoying you. You’re his. And he is yours. He hates the thought of anyone else getting involved. He could maybe be on board with someone watching, but actually getting involved would be too far. He’s not possessive in an unhealthy way, and it’s probably rooted in some insecurity of his, but he considers himself incredibly lucky to be able to call you his. He doesn’t plan on letting anyone get their hands on you and lead you away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to go down on you, and will do so at any given opportunity. He’s very good at it, and will happily spend hours between your thighs, pulling every last whine and whimper from you as you writhe under his tongue. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer receiving. As mentioned earlier, he loves your mouth, and seeing your lips wrapped around his length is one of the most sinful things he’s ever seen. And he can’t get enough of the way you manage to absolutely ruin him every time. He’s a complete mess from the very first stroke of your tongue. If he’s being honest, he’s already done for when you drop to your knees in front of him. And on the rare occasion when you’ve woken him up with a blowjob, he swears he was seeing stars.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

More the slow and sensual type. Wants to make the moment last. Wants to feel you against him for as long as he can. Wants to run his fingers and lips across every inch of your skin and feel you come apart for him. Loves the slow rutting up into you as you ride him carefully, even torturously. On occasion there’ll be a rougher session, but for the most part you’re a pair who takes their time and drags the whole affair on for as long as you can.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d both rather have the time to properly take care of one another, but sometimes he finishes a set and you’re both just riled up from some of his innuendo-filled songs and just need quick relief so he’ll drag you to a secluded spot and fuck you quickly before you return and act like nothing happened.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I mean… this is the same man who spent many a years bedding married women and narrowly escaping death at the hands of their husbands. So he’s definitely game for risk and experimenting. As long as it’s nothing too dangerous, he’s probably up for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If you’re going for a slow and sensual round, there’ll probably be an extra round while you’re in the bath afterwards. And if you’re going for a rougher, faster round, it’ll probably just be the one. But Jaskier can last quite a while, he’s good at containing himself and holding off his release so you can get there before him, or so you finish at the same time. Sometimes he’s really pent up and will finish quickly, for which he apologises profusely and will make it up to you by going down on you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I think Jaskier would be the type to find an interesting looking toy in some shady shop or market stall and bring it home to try on you. He’s also occasionally found something for himself and bought it, and you’ve had a go with it. Toys are something that are brought out every now and then, but you mostly don’t use them. He’s also got one tucked away somewhere for when he finally asks you about maybe pegging him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HUGE tease. Absolutely. He’s always throwing you winks and sly glances while he performs, especially if it’s a bit of a naughtier song. But even some of the very sweet songs about you might have a throwaway line about your activities in the bedroom, and he knows that a perfectly timed glance over at you will have you shuffling in your seat. Thus the quickies after his shows sometimes. And since he loves to have his hands on you as often as he can, his hands can often wander while he continues his conversation with someone while you sit there and try your best to concentrate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jaskier is very vocal. He’s absolutely not shy and doesn’t try to hide how good he feels. He’s making all sorts of delicious noises and praising you and complimenting you while you’re going at it. Lets out the loveliest moans and gutteral groans from the back of his throat that are so husky. Big dirty talker too, loves to run his mouth. Sometimes he gets so into the moment, that he gets a bit lost and might even start humming or singing to himself. And if it’s early morning sex, his moans and curses in his morning voice certainly does things to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to use Elder speech in the bedroom sometimes. You have no idea what he’s saying but you love the way his voice sounds as he speaks in Elder. Sometimes he’s just dirty talking and saying you’re right and beautiful and perfect. And other times he’s saying he wants to fill you up and make you his and have you carry his children. It’s something he wants to admit to you in common tongue eventually, but for the meanwhile he only admits these thoughts in Elder.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s not overly huge, but he certainly knows what he’s doing anyway and manages to find those perfect spots within you than have you writhing. There’s always the perfect stretch when he first presses into you. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. He’s completely smitten with you, and he’s always ready to go. It doesn’t take much to get him going. He could happily go every day if you were up for it too, but he’s able to wait it out, and it does feel that much better when he’s had to wait to be inside you. But yeah, he’s certainly got a high sex drive.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He noticed you at the bar early on in his performance and he gave you a wink. You raised your tankard at him and smiled in return. He found himself smiling too as he finished that particular song. He carried on moving about the tavern and when his eyes landed back on you, the smile dropped from his lips as he noticed a man crowding you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You looked less than pleased as he did so.

He wasn’t usually one for stopping a performance mid-way, but he couldn’t ignore what was happening. He wasn’t exactly the knight-in-shining-armour type, but it couldn’t hurt to call out to the man to leave you alone. It might even get him some extra coin for his heroics.

There’s some boo’s and a murmur of disapproval at the abrupt stop of his deft fingers playing his tune. All eyes suddenly turn to you and the man at the bar as Jaskier speaks in a firm but jovial tone, “I think the lady is uninterested, my friend.”

“What I get up to in this tavern is none of your concern, bard. You’re paid to sing. Mind your own fucking business.” The man snarled and you rolled your eyes.

“Ohh ho-ho, it seems you know nothing about me, kind sir. Anybody here will tell you I have quite a knack for sticking my nose where it certainly doesn’t belong.” Jaskier gestures to the crowd and there is a smattering of laughs and hums of approval from fans who know of his adulterous endeavours of the past.

“The lady isn’t interested. Go get your kicks elsewhere. I’m sure there are plenty of women practically throwing themselves at your muddy feet.” Jaskier jumps down from the stage, slinging his lute over his back dramatically and stepping in front of where the man is sat next to you.

You smirk at Jaskier’s antics, though it soon disappears as the man stands to full height and Jaskier tries not to show any fear on his face.

“Shall we take this outside, bard?” He grunts.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” You try to intervene, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. Before you can do anything else, he shoves you roughly away before lunging at Jaskier, his fist colliding with the bard’s face.

Jaskier immediately crumples to the floor, and goes to simultaneously protect his face and lute from any more blows, screwing his eyes shut. He hears a struggle, and when no more blows reach him, he opens his eyes and sees the man spread out on the floor across from him and you stood above him with a smirk on your face.

“Like I said, it wasn’t necessary. Thank you, but I can handle myself.” You offer him a hand up and he takes it tentatively, allowing you to pull him up.

“Though I do have something that will help your eye if you want to come upstairs? My honour didn’t need defending, but since you were so selfless and tried to defend it anyway, I can’t let you go un-thanked.” You wander out of the tavern and up the side stairs, Jaskier following behind like a lost puppy.

You open your door and gesture for him to sit by the fire. He gladly takes the seat and watches as you move about the space, finding a rag from the bathroom and rubbing some oils into it before dipping it into some cool water and wringing it out.

“It won’t take the pain away, but it’ll soothe it for now, and hopefully make the swelling go down.” You hand it to him and he stares at you dumbfounded. You laugh heartily at the look on his face, and place your own hand over your eye, and he snaps out of his stupor, placing the rag over his eye, blushing.

You rifle through your bag and find a small vial, pouring it into a tankard, and topping it off with some ale, handing that to the bard too. You pour yourself an ale and sit opposite him.

“Drink up, it’ll numb the pain somewhat.”

“Thank you…” he trails off, realising he never got your name.

“Y/N. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do, really. While it was unnecessary, I appreciate you standing up for me.”

“Y/N...” he tests the sound of it in his own voice, finding he quite likes the sound of it, “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Fitting.” He smiles as he takes a sip of his drink. The ale doesn’t completely mask the taste of whatever it is you poured from the vial, but it does a decent enough job. He briefly considers that perhaps you’ve poisoned him, but decides that your face is too fair to be masking any kind of malice. Geralt would roll his eyes if he were here now; first getting himself punched and then accepting a strange drink from a mysterious woman would definitely get him a scolding from Geralt if the Witcher found out.

“Have you got anywhere to stay tonight?” You enquire from your seat, sipping from your own drink.

“Are you trying to proposition me?” He raises an eyebrow then winces in pain, soon scowling at the laugh you let out.

“I’m worried you might have a concussion. I don’t particularly want to send you out and find you dead at the bottom of the stairs in the morning.” You move to kneel in front of him.

You lift a finger up and move it around, asking him to follow it with his eyes. He mostly does a good job of it, though he can’t help but draw his gaze back to your face every now and then before focusing again. He thinks you’re really quite beautiful. An ethereal kind of beauty. Though it could be the ale clouding his mind, or quite likely a concussion.

“You’re speaking out loud, you know.” You smirk as you sit back in your seat. Ethereal, you ponder. Not a word you’ve heard yourself described as before, but what do you expect from the Continent’s best-known poet.

“Shit.” He sighs and sinks down in his chair, a blush painting his cheeks.

“Stay here for the night. Sleep this off and you should be fine by morning. I’ll make sure you don’t die in your sleep, least I can do.” You remind him and chuckle as you help him up and into the bed.

You mutter to the elves to move on your signal, before hitching up your skirt and moving quietly along the path until you’re stumbling out into the clearing, making enough of a noise to make Jaskier and the men surrounding him turn to face you.

You pout as you stagger over to Jaskier, careful not to laugh at his confused expression.

“You lousy bastard, Julian. Finishing and leaving me in bed like a common whore.” You lightly shove him when you reach him.

“Who’s this pretty little thing?” One of the men remarks.

“She’s-she’s my wife!” Jaskier gets the hint and stutters out.

“The bard’s got a wife! Never would’ve guessed it.” The men chuckle.

“Well, I don’t know how much longer I can put up with him. He may give a triumphant performance on stage, but elsewhere…” you just sigh and Jaskier’s cheeks burn, visible even in the low light of the evening.

“I’m sure we could show you a good time.” One of the men sneered and you tried to hide your disgust.

You stray from Jaskier and move around the men, turning their attention towards you and away from the path to the boat, leaving the coast clear for the elves.

“Oh I’m sure you could.” You remove the pin keeping your hair back from your face, and brush your fingers through it softly, watching the elves move in your peripheral vision. Jaskier notices too and moves towards you, to keep the men’s attention away from the boat.

One of the men skulks closer to you but before he can touch you, Jaskier steps in front of you with a scowl on his face.

“Don’t touch her.” He speaks firmly, and you’re stunned by his boldness, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his tone.

“You heard the lady. You’re not satisfying her, bard. Let a real man show you how to really please a lady.” There’s a teasing lilt to the man’s voice as he smirks.

Jaskier doesn’t stand down or move away except turning towards you, “Please, my love. Let’s go home. Let me make it up to you.”

You know he’s only playing up to the part to let the last of the elves get onto the boat unnoticed, but the way he looks deep into your eyes, you swear you could feel it in the depths of your soul. He holds a hand out to you and you smile as you take it softly.

“Alright then, love. Sorry boys, maybe another time.” You throw a playful wink their way as you grip Jaskier’s hand tighter and start to walk back to the tavern.

There are shouts and grumbles from the men as you walk away. You’re out of sight from the men fairly quickly but your hands are still entwined until you reach the tavern again, climbing the stairs to the room you’ve rented above it.

“Oh- uhh sorry.” He stammers out and drops your hand as he reaches for the key to your door.

“It’s okay.” You reply meekly as you both step in and close the door behind you.

You’re lighting the fireplace when Jaskier calls your name softly. You turn and look at him, met with the sight of him with his jacket abandoned and shirt halfway undone.

“Thank you.” He says earnestly with a smile.

“For what?” You chuckle, turning back to the fire and placing a pot of water above it.

“For saving my skin back there. Those guys would have ripped me apart if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We needed to get the elves safely on that ship, I did what needed to be done in the moment.” You shrugged as you sat in the chair by the fire, letting the warmth seep into your skin.

Pretending to be Jaskier’s wife was an added bonus, sure. And hearing him call you ‘love’ definitely made you feel some type of way. But it was only an act. At least you were telling yourself that, anyway. You’ve always been a flirty pair, but Jaskier could never love you the same way you loved him.

He pours himself a drink and says something under his breath that you don’t quite catch and you’re about to press him when he speaks louder.

“Is it really that awful of a thought, being my wife?” He attempts a jovial tone, but there’s something sad underneath that reminds you of the way he sang earlier. He downs his drink and fidgets with the cup in his hands.

“Of course not, Jaskier. Any woman would be lucky to be your wife.” You smile softly.

“I don’t want just any woman though.” He muses, sparing a quick glance at you before looking away again.

“Then what do you want?”

“You.” You feel like the air is ripped from your lungs from that one word.

“M-me?”

“Yes, dove. It’s always been you.” He puts the cup down and walks tentatively over to you, kneeling down in front of you.

“Jaskier, I- I don’t know what to say…” you brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek.

“Then don’t say anything.” He smiles and leans into your touch.

You reach your other hand to cup his face, and before you know it you’re pulling his face towards your own and kissing him with all your strength.

He takes a second to realise what’s happening but when he does, he’s snaking his hands around your waist and kissing you back with equal fervour, pulling you to the ground to sit in his lap.

You pull away breathless and look into those blue eyes you’ve grown to love over the years, “I love you, Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

He smirks and blushes at his full name, loving the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. “I love you too. More than the bee loves the flower, and more than the flower loves the sun. More than anything.”

It’s your turn to blush now, and he cups your face, loving the feel of the heat rushing to your cheeks. He presses his forehead against yours and you sit there peacefully for a few minutes before he breaks the silence.

“You’re going to pay for that comment about my not-so triumphant performance, though.” He raises an eyebrow.

You smirk, “Is that so?”