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kaermorhenatnight · 2 years

Text

Maybe I just convinced myself it's love

18+ MDI!! NSFW

lambert x bard!reader, reader is fem, she/her pronouns, no “y/n” used

word count | 3.8k

warnings | smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, spell-vibrator,

A/N | The song used is partly translation of song “Luna Srebrnooka” by Magda Umer (second verse) and partly just inspired by it, can be sang to the tune of that song. I had game Lambert in mind but I don’t specify. Still not very confident about my writing I will accept all feedback!!

You don’t really like the crowd today. They seem to be a bit too prude to enjoy your more spicy lyrics and somehow obscene enough to send you disgustingly lewd looks during the more decent ones. One man even tries to pull up your skirt as you’re passing by, but, fortunately, The Kingfisher Inn is a respectable tavern, where acts like this are punished by a broken nose and a toss into the mud outside.

One last song and you can go upstairs, take a well-deserved bath that is being prepared just now and then fall asleep with a wine glass in your hand. You go through the list of songs in your head, thinking about what you could perform to properly frame your entire performance. You take a sip of mead that's a little bit too weak.

‘Do you take song requests, lass?’ a voice from behind you asks.

‘I’m afraid not, love, I—’ you start, turning around before your mind registers the familiarity of that voice. You can’t withhold a small, happy whimper, when you see Lambert, looking, as always, a little scruffy, his armor covered in dark spots of dried blood. He’s leaning on a table nonchalantly. ‘Good to see you, Wolf.’ You walk up to him, a bit too fast to pretend you’re at least a little bit indifferent to seeing him. You wrap your arms around his neck and feel his big hand cupping your buttcheek. ‘If I knew you were in Novigrad I would have worn a sluttier shirt,’ you whisper in his ear, firmly guiding his hand from your ass to your lower back. You back away a bit to look at his face, but still can’t find it in yourself to take your hands off his shoulders.

‘Yes, this one is hideous, you should definitely take it off,’ Lambert teases, very obviously looking at your breasts, gorgeously accentuated by your favorite corset.

‘I will. Right after this song. In my room.’ You take a step back and take your lute from the table. ‘And you're welcome to join me there,’ you add, smiling seductively at him over your shoulder.

Even though you both traveled a lot, fate always seemed to bring the two of you together at least once a year.

The first time it happened, a few years back in Oxenfurt, you didn't like him very much. He was impolite, self-centered, grouchy and, to be honest, smelled terrible. But he was also handsome and seemed to be impressed by your performance and weirdly infatuated with you, just showing it in his own, rude way. You were bored with sleeping with bards, other artists, and boring nobles and decided to spend a night with Lambert. You feared this might be a mistake. He was a witcher after all. A brute, barely human anymore, and on top of all that, an arsehole. You thought he might just unceremoniously throw you on the bed, screw you and then fall asleep within seconds, never giving a thought to whether you are enjoying it or not. To your surprise, the first thing he did was order a bath in his room because he knew it probably bothered you that he “smells like a fiend's shit”. You spent a long time in the warm water together, him covering your neck and breast with open-mouthed kisses and constantly complimenting your body in an awkward but oddly endearing way. He didn’t let you sleep that night.

The second time it was in a small inn in the middle of nowhere, Nilfgard. You were the last person he expected to meet there and seemed sincerely happy to see you. On that evening, he ate you out like his life depended on it and made you cum four times before he even took his pants off. And then a few more times after he did. The innkeeper knew both of your first names by the morning even though neither of you introduced yourselves when you checked in.

At some point, your body started adding butterflies fluttering in your stomach to the hot yearning in your abdomen you felt every time you saw him. It might have been because of this warm spark in his eyes that welcomed you in the morning or maybe the way he had to adjust to small gestures of gentleness you offered him. Whether it was delicate scratching on the back, scalp massage, or small kisses you littered his chest with, for a long time he seemed startled by them, like no one ever treated him with such tenderness. Maybe it was the way his face lightened up when you wanted to talk to him about poetry or music instead of monsters and death. You even gifted him a small notebook, where you have written down all of your favorite poems and the next time you met, he knew most of them by heart. You couldn't know that he tried real hard to learn them quickly, opening the notebook only for short periods of time, to preserve the smell of your perfume that soaked into the pages. You also couldn't know he searched for you at each inn he stayed at. And felt you in every song he heard. You couldn't know that.

So your romantic soul was regularly being tempered by your pretty practical mind. You knew better than to expect some kind of exclusivity or stability from him.

After all, he was still a witcher.

‘Break a leg!’ he yells as you walk back on the stage. A few guests send him a disapproving look and you can’t help but smile at their discontent. Lambert leans against the wall in the corner and smiles softly at you. You know what song you’re going to sing.

Silver moon slides through the night sky, hearing my voice cry here,

We’re alone between the clouds, still yearning for the dawn

Lay your head down on my lap and let the sleep come, my dear

Both so grateful and so sorry we were ever born

It seems like you finally found a common language with your audience. For a moment you see how many of them are just as tired as you are and just as lonely. A group of men in the corner stopped loudly talking like they did during the entirety of your performance until now, and now sit quietly, aggressively silencing other people who might be as much as whispering something too loud.

Hear a laughter in the darkness, quiet, strange and brittle

Smell the mint and marjoram, smell lilac and wild clove

You can't resist the urge to look at Lambert, feeling that humiliating softness you have for him overflowing you.

On a night like this we all love somebody a little

Or we just convince ourselves that it is in fact love

One lady who kept making comments to her friend while peeking at you and laughing with a mean smirk on her face now stares yearningly at her friend’s red lips and her eyes water a little.

Head already spinning even though it's really early

Fluttering heartbeat loud like a heavy iron bell

Taste of vodka, blood, regret between our two tongues twirling

All the reasons to die, to live, to go or to stay

Your eyes wander between guests. Most of them stare into the distance or lean against each other, a melancholically romantic mood spreading throughout the entire tavern.

The old fountain whispers lies, makes me blush through the curtain

Bit too sure about this or maybe not sure enough

Wonder if that smile is honest, I am not so certain

But I certainly don't want to risk and call your bluff.

Applause is not very loud but it’s okay. Most guests start closing their tabs and preparing to leave. If they’re lucky, with someone. You slowly walk off the stage, not saying anything to officially finish off. No words seem appropriate now.

You look around while slowly walking towards the staircase. Lambert approaches you, a bag on his shoulder.

‘That was a new one, wasn’t it?’ he asks, pointing vaguely in the direction of the stage.

‘Yes, I wrote it last winter.’ Right after our last time together, you don’t dare to say out loud.

‘I like it.’ He puts his arm around you and you both start walking up the stairs towards your room. ‘But I must admit, not as much as I like the way you are all hot and bothered now,’ he adds quietly and then inhales sharply. ‘Fuck, is all that excitement I can smell for me?’

‘Actually,’ you smile mischievously, ‘it was for a lady at the table by the window, but since she left, you will suffice.’

‘Well, I hoped Essi Daven would be performing tonight, but I guess you will do.’

You both chuckle as you reach your room. You got it as a part of your payment for performing so it was not the best room in The Kingfisher Inn but it was enough. The bed was big, a view from the window acceptable and the water in the bath you ordered was warm and nice.

‘Make yourself at home,’ you say and immediately hear a thump of a bag hitting the floor and feel two big hands digging into your hips and pulling you into a hug from behind.

‘I missed you,’ Lambert mumbles already kissing your neck ‘and those delicious thighs of yours.’ His fingers dig deeper into your warm flesh through your skirt and he presses himself against your back more firmly. You can feel his erection against your butt. ‘You make me so hard’ he groans against the skin on your shoulder, pushing your shirt out of the way. His hands start untying your corset to get you naked as soon as possible. As it falls on the floor, you turn around and start working on removing his clothes.

He got a few new scars since the last time you saw him. One really big one right under his collarbone. You trace it with your fingers. He trembles a little.

‘Actually, I think it is a bit too small for both of us to fit in there,’ you say, as Lambert slowly guides you towards the tub.

‘Oh we’ll fit, don’t worry.’

You do, in fact, fit. You have to sit astride on Lamber’s lap but that is one of your favorite ways to enjoy a bath in anyway. His hands explore your chest, massaging your breasts gently, as you wash his hair, trying really hard not to get soap in his eyes. He strokes your breasts, his calloused, hard fingers scraping a little bit against your skin.

‘How come each time I look at you, you get prettier?’

You blush and let out an embarrassingly honest giggle. Drops of water shine on Lambert's muscular shoulders, glistering with the light of candles on the walls. His dick is throbbing at your core, his hands all over you. But sex in the tub this small wouldn't really be comfortable. You both finish washing yourselves and get out, drying yourselves with towels. You keep peeking at him, his muscles tense under the mosaic of scars, the lovely path of coarse hair from his belly button down to his hard cock, the unhinged expression in his cat-like eyes. You can't resist the urge to touch his dick. He moans quietly as you curl your fingers around the shaft.

‘Fuck yes, touch me,’ he mutters, tangling his hand into your hair. ‘Do you want it inside of you?’

‘Yes, so badly.’ You can barely control your lust. Everything about this man makes your insides burn, empty of him. You give him a firm jerk, he closes his eyes and licks his lips. You press your body against his, enjoying every square inch of skin to skin contact. He pulls your face up by the hair, pressing your lips to his, sighing heavily as you smear precum on the tip of his cock. He throbs in your hand.

‘You’re so gorgeous,’ Lambert mumbles. ‘And you smell so fucking good.’ He nudges your hand away and picks you up by your waist. He places you gently on the bed, and leans over you, placing a trail of kisses gently along your leg, covering it with goosebumps. He stops right over your pussy. ‘Do you know what you're doing to me?’ he almost growls, leaving sloppy kisses on the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs wider apart. ‘A mere thought of tasting you on my tongue drives me insane. I can’t focus on anything. All I want is your cunt on my face.’ His mouth gets closer to your pussy but then moves away right before he reaches it, teasing you ruthlessly.

‘Lambert… Lambert, please,’ you whimper, trying to move your pussy closer to him, but he puts his hand on your pelvis and firmly pins you in place.

‘So eager. So needy…’ he mumbles and you feel his hot breath between your legs. ‘Gods, I missed you so much,’ the words leave his mouth right before he dives down into you, going straight for your clit, sucking on it. The intensity of sensations attacking you flashes in white before your eyes. A litany of broken moans and whimpers tumbles from your lips. You mindlessly run your fingers through his hair and push his head even closer to you. He licks down along your slit and thrusts his tongue into your entrance. “Fuck”s and “Gods”s escape your mouth like a heretic prayer.

Suddenly Lambert pulls away but before you lift your head to see what happened, a pleasure you never even imagined strikes you. A vibration travels from your abdomen through your entire body, touching even the tips of your fingers. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your back arches, head digs into the mattress. Before the lingering feeling fully fades away, another wave hits you, vibration absolutely shattering every nerve in your body. Orgasm takes you by surprise, the usually slow build-up happens in a fraction of a second, shaking you to the core. You let out a shriek, one that you would never suspect could be born in your throat. A warm ball of pleasure pulsates in your abdomen, then slowly starts to weaken. You breath heavily, your muscles relaxing after the climax. Vibrations stop. You slowly rise, leaning on your forearms, and see Lambert between your legs with a giant smirk on his face, his chest moving a bit faster than usual.

‘What was that?’ you whisper, trying hard to calm your breath.

‘You like it?’. The question is rude as if he didn't just see you have the most intense orgasm in your life. He strokes your leg lazily.

‘I loved it, but what was it?’

‘I told you about the Signs? Igni, Quen, Aard, y'know?’ He looks at you waiting for confirmation. You nod your head impatiently. ‘So, if I do Aard a few times in a row, very fast, it creates a vibration. And if I'm doing it very lightly, I can not only actually do it a few times in a row and not pass out, but also use it for much more pleasurable activities than fighting.’ He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your thigh. ‘It is still a bit fatiguing since it's a spell and all, but fuck… the way you looked, the way you sounded… it's worth it.’

Before you manage to say something in response, you hear knocking.

‘Um— Miss? Is everything alright?’ a voice from behind the door asks, seems sincerely worried. You recognize the innkeeper. You try to get up, but your body is still processing what just happened to it. ‘Miss? The guests informed me there was a scream—’

‘Yes, I’m alright!’ you say loudly. ‘I just, uh, fell!’ Lambert chokes on a laugh at your ridiculously bad lie.

‘Alright then, miss. Do you need anything?’

‘Nothing, thank you! And sorry for the noise, I will make sure to keep it down.’

‘Thank you, miss.’ You hear footsteps going away from the door.

‘You need to be more careful, miss,’ Lambert giggles, climbing up the bed to level his body with yours and laying next to you. ‘Next time you fall, I might not be there to catch you.’

You cut off his laughter by pulling him closer by his medallion into a sloppy kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips and moan at the memory of the pleasure he gave you.

His hands lazily wander around your body. He tenderly traces stretch marks on your breasts and butt with his fingers. You told him once you don't like them and now he makes sure to always let you know that he absolutely adores them.

‘Lambert?’ you whisper, cupping his cheek and pulling back from the kiss. He smiles.

‘What?’ A strand of his hair tickles his forehead. ‘What does my goddess have to say to her humble yet very handsome servant?’ He smiles at you, enjoying the way you blush at his words.

But you can't say it, can you? I think I love you? That's ridiculous! Or maybe I just convinced myself it's love? ‘Did you really like my song?’ you ask, stroking the scar on his cheek. Maybe he will understand you without needing to say it?

‘I wouldn't be here fucking a bad bard into tomorrow, would I?’ He didn't.

You just smile and pull him into a kiss again. His hand slides down to your pussy and he thrusts a finger into you. Your inside offers no resistance to him, slick dripping from you.

‘Lambert,’ you moan, any melancholic and sad thoughts sinking into oblivion, as the hot ball of excitement fills you again. ‘Your cock. Please.’ He pulls his fingers out. You caress his cheekbones with your thumbs, pulling yourself closer to him, feeling his hard dick against your abdomen. ‘Please—’

‘Since you asked so nicely…’ the witcher grins proudly, his ego boosted by you begging for him, guiding himself to your entrance. He slides into you, forcing a sharp breath out of your lungs, and then firmly grabs your thighs. ‘Hold on,’ he commands as he's rolling onto his back, with you still on his cock, now straddling him.

He tries to pick you up by your hips, but you push his hands away. He obediently puts them behind his head, accidentally – or actually pretty purposefully – showing off the amazing muscles in his arms. He smirks as you start rolling your pelvis, your body like a wave. It makes his hard cock press against your walls in a gentle, yet very satisfying way, both his and your pubic hair tingling the area around your clit lightly.

‘My pretty girl,’ he whispers, reaching to you with one hand and caressing your thigh. ‘I dream about fucking you every night. You're taking me so well.’ He closes his eyes and his hand moves up to your clit. ‘I fucking love you so much and I want you to cum on my cock.’

Before your brain manages to realize what he just said, his fingers form the Aard sign, relax and form Aard again and again. Vibrations hit you, another climax starts building up. You tilt your head back and start moving faster, chasing your high, your mind overflowing with hot waves of pleasure.

‘I am so close, Lambert,’ you whisper, leaning forward, placing your hands on his chest, trying hard with everything you have to last longer, to let this pleasure continue, but you can't. You clench around him as you orgasm, moaning, biting down on your hand to muffle sounds falling from your mouth. He follows just behind you, his hot cum starts dripping from you.

As your muscles relax, you lie down on Lambert's chest. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead. He’s still inside you, sperm slowly drips on your abdomen.

‘Aard just became my favorite sign,’ he says, smirking.

‘Mine too.’

You slowly get up and clean yourselves up. You can't stop thinking about this small sentence he said, trying to convince yourself he didn't really mean that, and your heart beating so fast because of that is, to be honest, a bit pathetic.

‘Your stamina is getting worse, dove,’ Lambert giggles as he pulls up his small clothes. ‘It's been a few minutes and your pulse is still through the roof. You're growing old.’

A burst of drunken laughter, high pitched and soft, slides into the room from the outside.

‘Someone's having a fun night,’ you comment, walking up to the window, pulling your shirt on. You try to change the subject and calm your heart a little. You can't see anyone, the owner of the voice you heard, must have already walked out of view.

You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder and immediately after that Lambert's body heat right behind you. Your heart doesn't even consider beating slower.

‘I like Novigrad,’ Lambert says, stroking your arm lazily. ‘It's so… raw. And honest. And doesn't even stink that much.’

‘You should see Beauclair,’ you sigh and lean on the window frame. ‘It's beautiful. So colorful. So lively.’

‘Maybe we can go there.’ You are pretty sure he looks at you, but you don’t dare to check. ‘You could show me every back alley we can hide in to make love.’ This time you turn. A mischievous smile crosses his face as you blush under his lewd sight.

‘And then we could even make love in prison after we get arrested for public indecency,’ you laugh, trying to not sink into this warm feeling of safety and stability that his presence imitates.

‘I’m serious.’ Lambert gently strokes your jaw with two fingers, turning your face towards him lightly. ‘I just finished a really good contract. I have a lot of money to spend I want to spend it with you. Let’s go to Beauclair. I promise I will try to limit sleeping on the ground on our way there to a minimum.

Oh, I could sleep on the ground all winter if only you were next to me, you think to yourself.

‘Since you asked so nicely… Alright,’ you say after a few moments of silence. ‘Let’s go to Toussaint.’

‘Great!’ Lambert puts his arms around your waist and picks you up, spinning you around a little too excitedly. ‘That’s really great, dove.’ He puts you down and crashes his lips on yours. ‘I can’t believe,’ he mumbles between kisses ‘that I will be able to do this every day.’

‘You will be able to do much more.’ You smile against his mouth, cupping his cock with your hand through the thin fabric of underwear. It is hard again.

Neither of you got any sleep that night. The next few nights didn't really bring you any rest either. Sleeping on the ground turns out to be pretty romantic when you have the right company.

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