#lambert x reader

they cling onto you hard, youre the only other lamb thats still alive that they know of but on top of that youre like their kid now

tries to be the best parent to you, though they lack the experience- ignoring that theyve never taken care of a child solo before, but they dont know what a normal childhood usually has

learning as they go

more than anything they want you to have a happy life in the cult

very protective though, wont let you off the grounds until they know for a fact you can fight and defend yourself... in the meantime, youre assigned a caretaker- a babysitter, even- to keep an eye on you when theyre out on crusades

they always bring something back for you to make up for their absence and tries to make some time for you

being a cult leader doesnt really... leave much time to spare for bonding...

You knew that your cheeks had turned a shade darker of red without looking at a mirror. Despite the layers piled high upon your shoulders, you could not get warm. It was a chill in the air that did not relent. Walking through the hallowed halls felt like traversing a tundra. Even moving was a difficult task, your arms wrapped around yourself to conserve what bit of heat you had.

However, you kept going on because you knew your destination would be worth the effort.

Aiden’s room was at the end of the hall. His door was unlocked, yet you knocked regardless. The sound echoed through the icy halls, the only noise against the snow silently falling outside the Keep’s walls.

Footfalls followed, the handle turned, and before you appeared a clearly half asleep cat. His hair was flattened against one side of his head and his eyes, amber and golden, were barely open. In addition, he stood in his bares, scarred chest on full display. Aiden’s words were muddled by a yawn as he greeted you. “How can I be of service, darling?” he asked once he had finished.

“May I share your bed tonight?” you asked, clutching tighter at your arms. You were shivering now, the cold too much for you to bear.

“Of course. You look as though you’re about to freeze to death. Come here.” Aiden pulled you into his room and the moment you crossed the threshold, you were enveloped in warmth. The hearth was burning and the windows were drawn closed. Aiden was one of the only witchers who had the foresight to put curtains over his window in order to prevent the winter’s chill from entering the chambers. His bedroom was the warmest in the keep, the perfect temperature for a delicate cat.

“Vesemir has the Keep far too cold for me,” you whined, warming your stiff hands over the fire.

“The wolves do prefer it colder than most.”

“They’re wolves, not polar bears,” you bit back with a pout. “I wish they’d have it a little warmer in here.”

Aiden laughed, pulling a blanket off of his bed and drawing it over your shoulders. “You are always welcomed in my room, my love.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. The heat of his skin doing wonders to ease the ache in your bones.

“May I be welcomed in your bed as well?”

“Always.”

Aiden’s soft scent filled your nose as you made your way closer to his bed. He smelt of the forest, pine and ferns and something that was just Aiden. It was hard to describe the distinct scent of a person. It was unique only to the cat but it was synonymous with home, comfort, and pleasure. It was one of your favorite smells, on par with another witcher’s spicy cinnamon and smoke.

You thought of Lambert as you drew the covers over yourself, arms wrapping around Aiden’s bare chest as he joined you. You laid your head on his shoulder, face practically buried into him. “I wish Lambert didn’t mind the heat.”

Aiden emitted a sound that could only be described as a giggle. “I haven’t a clue what you said but that tickles.”

You raised your head from his chest, a smile curling the corners of your lips. Despite not being a cat yourself, you appeared as if you were the cat who had caught the canary. “I merely said that I wished that Lambert did not mind the heat of your room,” you repeated, a hand moving towards shoulder. “I never knew that you were ticklish here.” You brushed the tips of your fingers over the skin there.

The touch was feather light but the sound that left Aiden’s mouth could be heard from down the mountain. “You devil!” he exclaimed, a guffaw forcing it way out of his lips.

“Oh Melitele, you’re so sensitive.” You were relentless, attacking him with only the tips of your fingers.

Aiden squirm underneath your touch; a great big witcher rendered defenseless at the hands of a mere mortal. He twisted and turned his body attempting to get out of your reach but that proved difficult due to the limitations of the size of the bed. He was helpless, at the mercy of your mischief.

“Please,” he pleaded or laughed, it was difficult to discern. “I yield!”

“But you’re adorable like this. I see no cat here, only a kitten.” You continued your onslaught, hands running up and down Aiden’s chest.

He turned to roll out of your path but you merely followed him on your knees now, a balancing act as you leaned forward to attack him. A balancing act which he took advantage of, finding an opening to grab your wrists and pin them above your head as he propelled you onto your back.

Aiden caged you in, his other hand immediately going to your waist to hold you down so you were at his mercy. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He followed each word with a slow press of his lips against yours. By the end of it you were having trouble catching your breath.

“Mercy?”

“Oh, now you’re eager for mercy?” Aiden’s expression was in honor of his school, utterly feline and devious.

“I’m so cold, you can’t tease me now, Aiden. You must warm me up lest I freeze to death.”

Aiden gave you another kiss, this time tongue licking at your lips for entrance which you unhesitatingly granted. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

“No we cannot. Who else will entertain you this winter if I went rigid?” You pushed back against his hold on you, reaching upwards to kiss him.

He met you in the middle, unable to resist the offer. He was unwilling to deny you anything you so clearly desired.

Heat radiated off the two of you as you pressed your bodies closer together. Neither of you were willing to part from the other. His hold on you uncompromising as was yours on him. Your hand went to his locks, the strands so utterly soft between your fingers. He was made out of down and fur and all the soft and good things in the world. He was yours.

“Aiden,” you moaned in between breaths, in between one kiss and the next.

“Yes, darling?” he replied in between heartbeats, in the flickers of flames still burning in the hearth.

“Could we get Lambert? Please? I don’t care if he makes a fuss of the heat. I need him near.”

Aiden chuckled, his amber eyes fond as they locked onto yours. “Anything for you, my love.”

He parted from you, releasing your wrist and the hold on your waist. He went to the door without care for his shirt or trousers. When his hand turned the handle and opened the entrance, none other than Lambert greeted him on the other side.

“I could hear you two from the dungeons, you're so loud,” Lambert chastised though the expression on his face lacked any proper heat. He was panting which was quite a difficult task to achieve as a witcher. He must have ran to Aiden’s room by the way his shoulders were rising and falling so quickly.

“I was just about to get you to come join us.” Aiden flexed his arms as if Lambert did not already get the obvious. He was still in his bares after all.

“It’s hell in here,” Lambert predictably replied. “How do you even stand it?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk already in the midst of forming on your face. You could play out entire conversations with Lambert without ever having to verbally speak to the mind. He simply had a way of going through the world that anyone with working eyes and ears could sense. It was like reading a book that you’ve read a million times, each act already memorized.

“Lamb, it’s too cold out there for me. You’re already at Aiden’s door. Please join us,” you begged of him, batting your eyes at him coyly.

“Can I put out the fire at least?”

Before you could reply, Aiden was already making his way to the hearth to snuff out the flames. “There,” he presented his handwork with a gesture to smoke leaving through the chimney. “Just remove your shirt and come join us. You’ll love it, I promise.” Aiden smiled brightly at him, an expression that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

Lambert made snide remarks the whole time, as was his habit, but complied with Aiden’s request regardless. Soon, you had two bodies turning to you in bed, twin amber gazes on you. “I love getting my way.”

“You’re spoiled rotten here,” Lambert grumbled, but went into your open arms in spite of his complaints. He laid his head on your chest, tucking himself underneath your chin. He breathed you in, willing his own heart to align itself with the beats of your own. “Soon you’ll be expecting me to do this everyday.”

“Oh would you, Lamb?” you excitedly exclaimed. “I wish we’d spend every evening like this.”

Aiden blanketed your other side, arm going to wrap the both of you in his embrace. He pressed you close and inhaled the mixing scents of his favorite people. It was bliss. “Could we have you pliant and willing like this everyday, Lambert?”

Lambert pressed his face into the nook of your neck, hiding his expression away. “It hasn’t even been five bloody minutes and the two of you are already wanting to push it.”

Your hands went to his naked sides, bare and vulnerable to your touch. “No, if I really wanted to push it, I’d do this.” The attack was premeditated and deadly. Your fingers were quick and light. Lambert was hollering and rolling out of bed in the blink of an eye.

“You absolute arse!” he yelled, but there was no heat in his eyes for they were too filled with mirth now. He grabbed the pillowed from under your head and pulled it away, branshing it like a weapon before bringing it down onto your unexpecting face.

“Lamb!” you cried out, hands going to protect your head.

“You’ve made your declaration of war!” The feathered filled assault continued with a fury.

“Aiden, save m—” Before you could finish you were attacked from the other side. Your witchers had turned against you. “The betrayal!”

“No, can do, my love. You’ve stuck me with the same offense before. I’ve sworn my loyalty to Lambert for he knows the pain I’ve endured by your hands.”

“Aghhh!” You ran from the bed, leaping off of it and running for the door.

“You can’t run from us!” Lambert yelled, rushing to you and sweeping you off of your feet and into his arms. He then deposited you back onto the bed where Aiden was ready with both pillows.

“Do you yield?!” Aiden questioned you as he threw pillows at you. You didn’t even know that Aiden had so many pillows to begin with.

“I—aghhh—yield. I yield. Please have mercy!”

Aiden stopped his onslaught and pressed a kiss to your forehead that was more slobber than lips. He pulled you into him. “You’ve been defeated,” he laughed, holding you tight.

Lambert joined him in this new game of smothering you. A manic grin was stretched across his face, the expression of a victor coming to claim his glories. “That’s what you get for tickling me.” He bit at your neck in a way that was less alluring and more vicious. It was like the nips of a playing dog.

You laughed at their antics, pulling the blankets over the three of you as they continued with their choice of celebrating their victory. Eventually, they were settled enough to simply tug you close and relax. A tired Lambert returned to his position on your chest and a spent Aiden buried his face next to yours. Your witchers had been worn out.

“Have I remarked on how much I love the two of you?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well I love you so very much and I don’t think I will ever stop loving you two.”

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐛

The Lamb has a habit of making dirt balls and throwing them at Narinder for fun.

This is practically canon and no one can change my mind.

Also, depending on when you come in the picture, they will leave little love notes for you.

The funniest part about the letters is that they don't leave a signature, they just write 𝐁𝐚𝐚𝐚 and you know it's them.

Despite being a lamb, they have the ability to watch people like a hawk.

And by that, I mean they have an incredible attention span, as weird as it may seem.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚

Shamura sews. A lot.

They could, and would, remake the entirety of all the bishops outfits by themself.

When they read, if you're in the picture, they prefer to have you sitting on their lap instead of at their side.

As odd as it may seem, kisses from Shamura are the best.

Shamura counts doors and windows when they're bored.

They'll go around their temple and count every door and every window.

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫

Kallamar loves to dance but is far too scared to perform in front of anyone, that includes his siblings.

He can draw, and well.

He'll sometimes wander into his siblings territories and draw what he sees.

Once you come into the picture, he has a habit of drawing you.

And pretty quickly, his sketchbooks become full of drawings of you.

Of course, he would only show you them if you asked, but besides that, you're never seeing them.

𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬

He bites The Lamb, a lot.

And it's not on purpose, it is a purely subconscious thing. And it's not a kinky thing either.

When you come into the picture, he is all over you.

Kisses and hugs galore. In private, of course.

He pouts when you have to leave, like. literally pouts.

Depending on how long you're gone, he'll be stubborn and pouty until he gets some sort of reassurance that you're not planning his demise.

𝐇𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐭

She needs help to change her bandages, she can't do it on her own.

There's been times when she's croaked and it hurt her throat badly to the point she didn't talk for the rest of the day.

Leshy also laughed at her for it and she beat his ass 🧍‍♂️

She has a habit of kissing your throat lightly.

Not your neck, under your chin where your throat is.

Cuddles are a must for her, obviously in private, but she's in need of a little love.

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐲

Leshy, being the Bishop of Chaos, is.. well.. chaotic.

He will bite your ears out of nowhere and feel zero (0) shame.

His branches wiggle when he's happy.

If he gets extremely excited or extremely happy, there's a possibility they'll fall out.

And when they do, he'll just be dramatic and stare at the branch on the ground like someone's decapitated head just rolled toward him.

No one, not even a shadow. Which was a good thing, considering that you reached up to catch the chilli pepper jar from the shelf and dumped half of it into Lambert’s bowl.

You quickly put the jar back and stirred the stew, the smell of it making your eyes water for a moment. Perfect, even though you did need to include a simple spell so the smell wouldn’t give the spiciness away.

The time had almost reached dinner time, which made you smirk a little and lay down all the bowls on the cart, and rolling them down towards the dinner hall.

A few witchers were already at the table, laughing about something as you started to lay down the food bowls, before throwing a spell into the bell at the corner of the room to signal the food being ready.

“You’ve been experimenting with some new flavours,” Gwain hummed as soon as he took his first sip from the broth, before offering you a small smile. “I mean that as a compliment.”

You beamed, clasping your hands behind your back. “Good to know, my lord. Vesemir has warned me against being too bold with spices, but I’m hoping to please you in another way.”

Lambert strode to the room, sliding to sit on the table and you pushed his bowl in front of him. He grunted, seemingly already trying to make up another way to say it’s tasteless. Little did he know that his taste buds would dance tonight, though not in the way he’d hope.

It only took one spoonful and maybe ten seconds before his face started to change its colour. When he reached for the tankard of water, you had a very hard time not to show your amusement. When he finished drinking and water was pouring down his beard, he turned to look at you, his eyes red and watering.

“What did you do with my food?” he asked, coughing in between every word.

“It’s the same food as everyone else’s,” you huffed, handing him a towel. “Guess you can’t handle new flavours as much as you claim you do.”

Lambert turned to his fellow witchers, who all shrugged.

“It tastes fine to me,” Eskel said with a shrug.

“Me too,” Coën agreed, leaning over Lambert’s bowl to give it a sniff. “It smells fine, are you sure you just—”

Lambert scoffed, cutting him off. “In case you’ve forgotten, I won the spice competition last time we visited the city. I almost got into a fight over it because they claimed witchers naturally have good spice tolerance, which makes it impossible for others to win. So,” he said, slowly turning to look at you, “there’s only one suspect left.”

You tried to back up as he stood up, starting to walk toward you. “I know nothing—”

“I’m believing you just as much as I would believe a demon claiming it will quit its bad ways and start a farm,” Lambert interrupted you, grabbing your sides.

The moment his fingers touched underside of your ribs, you jolted and squealed, which made him frown. “Wait.”

You shook your head, trying to pull away, but Lambert kept you in place. “No! I just—”

Lambert smirked as you jolted again as he tapped his fingers against your sides. “I didn’t know you’re ticklish… this is going to be fun.”

Soon enough, your laughter echoed across the dining hall, everyone else but Vesemir looking at you trying to get away but Lambert always pulling you back into him.

And finally, you grabbed his hands. “Fine! I put… a little more to your stew.”

His fingers squeezed your sides again. “A little?”

“Well! A lot. Two spoonfuls… no, half! The jar. And! I cast a spell so you can’t smell it!” you confessed in between bursts of laughter. After that, he finally let go and you took two steps back from him. “But you can blame yourself, you’ve told me I can’t use spices for the life of me. And at the same time Vesemir warns me against not spicing food up too much.”

Lambert glanced at Vesemir, before he sighed. “Well. Fine. I’ll make sure to be less harsh with critiquing in the future if it will otherwise get me food I can’t eat.”

You nodded, pouring him a new bowl of stew. “And I’ll make sure not to deserve tickle attacks in the future by pranking you.”

Geralt

He’s mostly just praying that fate isn’t throwing another curveball at him

Sureeee he’ll spend time with you!! (his fingers are crossed and he’s praying let them be normal let them be normal

Will end up totally accepting you, but he doesn’t love the attention that comes from being a witcher in the company of a fae

He secretly adores your wings

Jaskier

Immediately in song-writing mood

Will make up things about your life to fabricate contents for his ballads

Won’t treat you very different from his other ~weird~ friends

Loves loves loves the attention that comes with it (read: basks in it like the sun)

Yennefer

Yen is fascinated

The academic in her wants to tell her colleagues

And the girl who was all alone and abandoned in her absolutely adores you

You’d do good to make sure that she’s on your side, or she might sell you out

Definitely wants a piece of your magic either way

Ciri

Poor ciri

Eugh she just wants some friends

That don’t die…

She loves your horns and wings

Definitely adores you for also being *different* and having your own magic thing going on

Eskel

He adores your wings

If there is a wing care routing, please let this man do it

Otherwise, he might invent a conditioner-potion for your wings

Don’t scare him in the beginning though, or you may get stabbed

Lambert

Has the reaction of a seventh-grader

Might literally go woahhhhhh

Big hater, but not against you

Will protect you, but will also ask you if you can carry stuff with your horns constantly

Yeah becoming a christmas tree-esque creature may be a con

Coen

Coen honestly just enjoys a helping hand

Your magic will in fact be contributing to his work

Tbf he also makes sure you don’t get killed by angry farmers

The whole thing starts off as a symbiotic relationship but will turn into a friendship (if not more hehe)

Vesemir

Bro does not trust you

Thots and prayers girldude

Oh you have horns and wings? LIKE A MONSTER??