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#jaskier x reader
super-marvel-dc · 29 days
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Y/N: ARE YOU-
Geralt: Fucking.
Y/N: KIDDING ME?! YOU-
Geralt: Fucking.
Y/N: IDIOT!
Jaskier: …What was that?
Geralt: I banned Y/N from swearing, so I’m helping them out.
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sailorkamino · 8 months
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sheltered
relatonships: geraskier x magic!reader [tangled au]
word count: 1.8k
summary: your village believed you to be born cursed and would have killed you, if not for stragobor. you've spent your whole life locked away in a tower but now you've got a chance for freedom in the form of a bard, a witcher, and an pretty horse.
warnings: stragobor, emotionally abusive parent, gaslighting, anti witcher prejudice, death/murder, pre relationship, emotional support dogs
a/n: my first time writing for the witcher! what do you think? i might turn this into a series <3
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Spring is coming so you’re making new outfits for your beloved hounds. Which isn’t at all depressing no matter what that one judgemental bird thinks. Anyways you’re using golden yellow fabric for Honeysuckle and cool blue for Periwinkle. As is customary.
Then you sense them. Strangers. You become almost dizzy with fear and excitement. A type of desperation only experienced when you live in a forced solitude. You make your way to the window, desperate for a glance. It’s not like they’ll be able to see you. Your entire tower is invisible to outsiders.
“Hey, look at this tower.”
You choke on air. Your dogs leap from your bed to check on you (still in their winter sweaters.) You hold your breath as two people and a horse step into the clearing. Then you meet yellow cat-like eyes and you’re diving to the floor with a startled noise.
“Careful. Magic.”
One of them is mumbling but it’s drowned out by the sound of your rapid heart. Honeysuckle whines in concern, licking your face. Periwinkle takes a protective stance over both of you, growling out the window.
Father has always told you witchers are bloodthirsty savages. They’ll kill any innocent being for a profit. They know no morals, only violence. When you were born under a black sun your religious village wanted you dead. Father hid you away for protection. You’re not looking to relieve the witch hunt experience.
You mentally poke at the witcher, feeling out his aura. He doesn’t seem particularly beastly. Animals tend to be more shallow than people, all instincts and simple emotions. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel that.
A part of you has always questioned your father's prejudice. You stopped voicing it but the concerns remained. Father hates witchers because they kill beasts. If monsters can be good, why can’t witchers? An old argument resurfaces in your memory.
“Have you listened to a word I’ve said, child?” Father asks angrily. “You cry when a rat dies yet defend butchers.” You look away, embarrassed by his mocking tone.
“This is why you stay in this tower. You’re too naïve for the outside world.”
You wonder if that’s the real reason he keeps you locked away. You’re capable of defending yourself now. So is he really protecting you? Or is he protecting the world? All because you were born under a black sun. Why must you be punished for being different? Why must witchers?
You think of the villagers who looked at a crying orphan and saw a threat. Who saw killing an infant as a lesser evil. You don’t want to be like that. Privately you wonder why your mentor sees compassion as a weakness but you’ve learnt it’s better to agree with him. “Yes father. I’m sorry.”
“No need to fear us. I’m Jaskier the bard, master of the seven liberal arts, and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Could you give us directions to the nearest town?” The colorful man calls out.
Your heart races until you feel dizzy. So this is the butcher. The most beastly and cruel of all the witchers. He’s… underwhelming to say the least. Certainly least nightmarish and more dreamy than you imagined. But you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. You take a calming breath, petting your hounds to ground yourself.
The primal fear inside of you is wrestling with your desire for a real life conversation with a stranger. This could be your chance to hear both sides of what happened in Blaviken. Father always says you’re too naïve but only tells you his point of view. You’re almost sick with nerves when you blurt out rather loudly, “I wouldn't know. I’ve never been in the forest before.”
There’s a long pause and you can sense confusion. Have you already messed up? You don't want them to leave. Well the witcher can go, but the colorful one seems nice. You pop your head back into view, “I don’t leave my tower. I’m sorry. I… like your horse.” Compliments make you friends right?
“Don’t leave or can’t?” A much gruffer voice asks. You shiver. (He didn’t even say thank you for the compliment, how rude.)
“I’m safe here.” The words sound unconvincing to your own ears. You tell yourself it's because of fear. Not because you’re beginning to question them.
“Who says?”
“My father.”
They share a concerned look. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It sounds quite childish when you say it out loud. But you’ve been persecuted before, you aren’t about to let your guard down around a hired killer. So… why are you still talking to him?
Then you notice the brunet’s instrument. What a lovely change of subject. “Is that a lute?”
“It is!”
You’re practically jumping now. Honeysuckle, picking up on your excitement, smacks you with her wagging tail. “I’ve never heard a bard before! Play me something?”
Jaskier goes impossibly sad. You frown, hating the kicked puppy expression. What did you do wrong? Maybe you should just stick to socializing with animals. At least the rats find you charming.
“You’ve never heard music, my dear?”
Your face goes hot, both at the endearment and the pity in his voice. “I have lots of instruments but I don’t think I’m very good. Being self taught and all.”
“Why don’t I come up and give you a lesson? Free of charge!”
Your stomach twists in knots. You don’t know what’s more terrifying. Your new friend coming inside or leaving you to loneliness. You avoid eye contact when you answer. “My father wouldn’t like that.”
“What would you like?” The witcher asks sternly. You freeze. No one has ever cared what you wanted before. Is that concern you sense from him? Sympathy? From a so-called beast? Your silence seems like an answer enough. “So can’t leave,” he concludes.
“Can others enter?” Jaskier asks curiously.
You don’t know why you answer but you do. “Only with a portal. There’s no door.”
“But there’s a window.”
You frown. Obviously there’s a window, you’re talking out of it right now. Maybe your new friend is a little slow.
“Rope?” he proposes to the witcher.
Your mouth drops open. A rope? That’s it? Years of isolation by a warlock solved with a fucking rope? It can’t be that simple. It just can’t be. “My father is very powerful,” you warn. “And he hates witchers.”
“Him and most of the continent,” the man grumbles dryly. For some reason you feel guilty. Years of indoctrination to hate his kind, forgotten in mere minutes. Maybe you really are naïve.
“Who’s your father, dear? Maybe we know him?”
You sincerely hope not. “Stregobor.”
Dead silence. Then a very empathetic “fuck.”
Your stomach sinks. That’s the most emotion you’ve heard in the witcher’s voice so far and it doesn't sound good. Will they judge you for your fathers deeds? Wait, why are you assuming your father’s in the wrong? Since when did he become the bad guy? (Maybe he always has been but you’ve ignored it.)
“Let me guess, you were born during a black sun?” He asks flatly.
You feel as if a rug has been pulled out from under you. The comfort that’s been growing disappears, replaced with icy fear. You don’t even know this man yet you still feel betrayed. “Are you here to kill me?” You ask, slightly wobbly.
He sighs tiredly. Maybe he gets asked that a lot. “No. You aren’t fucking cursed. You were born during an eclipse. A completely natural phenomenon. A bunch of old bastards made up that curse for power and control.”
Your jaw drops, conflicting emotions raging inside of you. If he’s right you’re not cursed, which is great. But it also means your father has betrayed you. Your whole life can’t be a lie. It just can’t. A sinking part of you knows he’s making sense, even wants to believe him, but you desperately ignore it.
“I hurt people,” you confess abruptly.
“I thought you never left this tower?” Jaskier asks.
“When I was a baby.”
The witcher raises an unimpressed brow. “Did Stregobor tell you that?”
You growl in frustration as a strong wind rustles the trees. Jaskier looks around in bewilderment but the witcher holds your steady gaze. Not easily frightened by your show of power or glowing eyes.
“I’ve met a lot of monsters. You’re not one.”
The words you’ve always longed to hear. Uttered by the man you’ve been taught to hate. You take a moment to collect your flurry of emotions before answering. “Funny,” you smile weakly, “I was gonna say the same thing about you, witcher.”
You steady yourself before asking the next question. Knowing it won’t be easy but needing answers. The more you talk to Geralt the more you question what you’ve been taught about witchers. Maybe you don’t want him to be a monster. Maybe you’re so lonely you don’t care if he is.
“Tell me about Blaviken.”
“What?” His voice is somehow gruffer. Face horribly blank and posture rigid.
“Every story has two sides, yet I’ve only heard my father’s.”
He sighs deeply. Then begins. He tells you about Renfri. A princess born under the black sun. Her step mother was looking for a way to get rid of her and the curse was convenient. Stregobor agreed the girl was an evil mutant that must be isolated but her step mother wanted her dead. Together they ruined her life.
Renfri evaded them. She spent years being hunted, until she became the hunter. Eventually she formed a gang of sorts and tracked Stregobor to Blaviken but couldn’t enter his tower. (Apparently the idea of living in a tower forever was very distressing to your father. You don't know if you should laugh or vomit.)
Both Renfri and Stregobor asked Geralt to kill the other but he refused, not wanting to get involved. Although he hated Stregobor he tried to talk the princess out of revenge. It was too late. She threatened to kill townspeople until the warlock came out.
Your heart sinks at the ultimatum. Your father has never been a compassionate man. By the grim look on the witcher’s face he knew it too. In the end Geralt did what Stregobor wanted him to do. Instead of payment or thanks he was branded a butcher.
The fear-shame-grief rolling off of the witcher (definitely not emotionless by the way) is enough to make your eyes sting. Your gaze settles on Jaskier, who’s gone into full sad puppy mode. You have a feeling he’s never heard the full story either. You clear your choked throat.
“You mentioned a rope, good sir?”
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schleiereule-94 · 2 months
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A Bard and a Witcher – Part 2
Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier x aFab!Reader
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Summary: The morning after an eventful evening spent with Geralt and Jaskier you start exactly where you stopped the night before.
Warning(s): SMUT MINORS DNI, porn w/o much plot, fingering, penetrative sex (lots of it), unprotected p in v, threesome, dirty talk (both degrading and some praise, cursing), rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (m receiving), she is not talking much but enjoys being used. A very slight hint of feelings.
Author’s Note: Not beta read and not an english native, so be kind if you find mistakes. Hope you enjoy!
Part 1 here
You fell asleep quickly after the two men had tucked you under the covers. Your body feeling limp and warm, you happily drifted off into dreamland. You only wake up hours later, when a sunray hits your forehead. You squint your eyes open, still feeling dozy and at first you don’t know exactly where you are. A bulky figure lays in front of you, blocking out most of the sun. Yellow eyes watch you intently. And they immediately bring back the memories from last night. You also register a body pressed into you from behind and an arm around your waist. Jaskier’s breath is deep and regular at your neck, he is still asleep. 
When the witcher realises you are awake a small smile lightens up his features. He extends his arm to put a string of hair that has fallen into your face behind your ear and rest his hand gently on your cheek. It is warm and big, extending from your jaw up to your temple. “Morning darling. How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. He is very close and even though his eyes and gestures are very soft and relaxed you are still intimidated. “I’m…, I’m great actually”. You sound sleepy and your voice is hoarse. From taking too much cock down your throat probably, your brain provides a reason. The thought makes you grin and a slight shiver of excitation runs down your body. The witcher is still looking at you. “You are very pretty” he states softly and his hand travels from your face down to your shoulders. He slowly slides down your arm, taking the blanket off your upper body and leaving behind a trace of goosebumps. You hum under his gaze and get more awake by the second. As he uncovers your bare breasts you try to cover yourself up by reflex, but he catches your hands and decisively puts them back down. “Relax”. You feel your cheeks redden a bit, but you loosen up. The witcher leans in closer, your faces just centimetres apart. You feel his breath on your skin and shudder slightly. You feel like you are laying next to a big wild wolf. He’s tranquil for now, but you know he could devour you any second. “What is your name”, he asks while interlacing his fingers in some strands of your hair. “Y/n”, you say, mouth dry and hypnotised by the yellow eyes examining your face. You feel like he sees directly into your soul. 
Geralt leans forward over your head and inhales deeply in your hair. “Mhh you smell as delicious as you taste sweet girl”. His eyes have a faint animalistic glint to them when he turns them back to you. You don’t know what to say. He looks so perfect, the sun lighting up his white hair. Mesmerized, and before you think more about it, you grab a strand and let it slide through your fingers. It feels like silk. Geralt looks amused. “I’ve never met a man like you”, you tell him without looking into his eyes. His broad chest is lightly covered in hair, adorned with his witcher medallion. You feel the urge to touch him, feel his heart beating to make sure he is real. He looks more like an angel in the morning sun, even though you are very aware that he is everything but. “They say that witchers can’t feel anything. That you don’t have emotions.” You shyly look back up into his face, looking for an answer. “Do you believe them?” he asks. You hesitate. “I don’t know.” You lean forward and rest your hand on Geralt’s hot chest feeling it rise and fall. He lets you caress him, watching your hand wander up to his collarbone and down his muscular arms. You trace a vein on his bicep. “I want to find out” you whisper. 
Geralt puts his hand under your chin, lifting you head up. For a moment you are trapped in his gaze, but you free yourself by closing the short distance and kissing his perfect lips. He tastes of wood and danger, deep and bittersweet. His teeth brush your lower lip and his tongue licks into your mouth, slowly but determined. Suddenly you don’t feel relaxed and cosy anymore, but restless and turned on. His hand comes up behind your head to hold you onto the deepening kiss. He has you breathless in no time and you moan softly into Gerald’s mouth. 
As you pull back to catch your breath, Jaskier, woken up from the stirring next to him, nuzzles his head into your neck. “Good morning sweetheart” he hums into your ear. “Can I get a good morning kiss too?”  You smile and turn your head to kiss the bards much finer lips. He tastes like wine and smoke, light and fun. You can feel his naked body pressed into your curves and his morning hard-on on your lower back. You grind your hips back into him. “Morning bard. Had sweet dreams about me?” you tease him. Jaskier chuckles. “You really want to start over where we stopped yesterday, hm”. His hand wanders from your hip where he had placed it, upwards to grab one of your boobs. “Mh so warm and cosy” he mutters. He looks over to Geralt who is still laying on his side silently watching the two of you. “Mind if I interrupt your make-out session?” Geralt makes an assertive gesture with his head. “Go ahead.” His voice has dropped, and heat is radiating from his body, you feel like bathing in it. “You look at me”, he orders you and takes your chin between two of his fingers. Naturally, you nod your head at the commanding tone.
All your senses are absorbed by Gerald’s yellow eyes and Jaskier’s talented fingers massaging and lightly twisting your sensitive nipples. You feel them hardening under his touch and start to pant, your mouth agape. The tingly feeling of arousal travels down your body and directly into your core. You feel wetness starting to pool between your legs and you wiggle your hips again into Jaskier’s cock, hot and flush against your lower back. The bard starts to move downwards, head nested at your neck, kissing and licking stripes up to your ear that make you shiver. Geralt’s eyes are fixed on the goosebumps appearing all over your skin. Jaskier pushes against your butt, and you angle your pelvis back so the head of his hot cock enters between your legs. With a light thrust Jaskier slips between your thighs that are slick from sweat and your excitation. “Mh look at you, all wet for us again” he licks at a very sensitive spot behind your ear making you shudder and your breath hitch. You close your eyes, but Gerald makes you open them again quickly. “I said, look at me” he growls, while yanking the blanket off your body completely. The cold air hits your sensitive skin and you suddenly feel very exposed. Jaskier is lazily thrusting between your thighs, holding your breasts in both hands. You can hear him panting and purring sweet praises into your ear. “Such a beautiful girl, could play with you all morning, baby.” He pinches your nipples and the pain shoots directly between your legs. You need friction, but Jaskier’s thrusts are just missing the one spot where you need it most. You clench your thighs together, which makes the bard hiss, but it is not really helping you. You look up at Gerald. “Please” you beg him. “Please what sweetheart? Do you need help?” The witcher has not moved from his sideways position from where he is studying your every move, all expressions, all your sounds. “Yes, please sir, I need to be touched”. “Where do you need to be touched, little lady?” He puts his big hot hand square on your lower belly, slowly travelling over your navel down towards the spot between your legs where the head of Jaskier’s red and swollen cock appears rhythmically. “Yes, down, please” you breath weakly. The witcher extends his long middle finger, caressing over the little curly hairs covering your vulva. He is agonizingly slow, enjoying the pained and eager expressions crossing your face. Finally, he enters between your folds, rubbing lightly over your most sensitive spot. “Here? Do you need to be touched here?” “Yes, ah yes sir” you moan between your teeth. Geralt looks deeply into your eyes as he starts drawing little circles on your clit. Your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling fast. The combination of Jaskier’s hot dick pulsating between your legs, fingers playing with your nipples and Gerald’s warm hand on your lower belly, massaging just the right spot between your clenched thighs, all under his watchful gaze, turns you on immensely. You start bucking your hips into Gerald’s hand, needing more friction, more pressure. 
“Let me have her”, Jaskier pants and grabs at your hipbone, dragging your ass backwards and changing the angle between your bodies. And with one quick thrust he is in you. The feeling of fullness is so sudden that you cry out loud. The bard pulls out almost completely just to slam back into you. Your moans mix with the slapping sound of naked bodies meeting with force. Geralt’s hand is still there on your clit, pressing down and drawing ever faster circles. The pressure on your bladder makes you feel like peeing. “I am, I am going to come” you announce just moments before your belly convulses and you clench your eyes close, seeing stars. You hear Jaskier gasp as he fucks you through your orgasm, hitting this sweet spot deep inside you with perfect accuracy. You moan and let the fire rip though you.
Two fingers on your jaw bring you back down to earth. Jaskier’s hand digs into your hips and your body is shaken every time he enters your soaked pussy. Gerald is staring at you, his own arousal now clearly visible in his face, lips tight and pupils blown. “Open your mouth” he commands and you follow obediently. With his middle finger he spreads your own juices on your lower lip before entering your mouth. “Now suck”. You do as your told, without taking your eyes away from his, seeing his gaze darken as you lick around his fingertip.
Your body is still rocked back and forth as Jaskier is chasing his own release. “Hold her still” he asks of his friend. Gerald withdraws his finger from your mouth with a plop to grip your hips in a stronghold as his friend starts pounding for good. You close your eyes and just give yourself to the feeling of being opened up again and again until you hear Jaskier start to breath irregularly and feel him twitch inside you. You try to grind your hips deeper into him, but Gerald’s grip on you makes any movement impossible. Every single one of his fingers will leave a bruise in your flesh. He is staring at your trembling breasts with heat in his eyes. Jaskier enters you one, two, three more times before he stalls, pelvis flush with your ass, and with a guttural grunt you feel his balls empty themselves. It feels so dirty and arousing at the same time, you moan loudly. After a few moments Jaskier collapses next to you, his now half-hard dick slipping out of you with an almost obscene squelching sound. You hiss from the loss as semen runs down your thigh. 
You are aware how Geralt is looking at you, his gaze burning your skin. “You like this, hm, getting fucked by this bard? Getting pounded properly?” “Yes”, you mutter, “like to be fucked by good dick.” You grin at him. “I can take some more.” “Is that right? You haven’t had enough yet?” In an instant Geralt is on top of you, weighing you down heavily and taking the air out of your lungs. You try to touch his bare chest but he pins both your hands down at your sides before licking a strip from your throat up to your ear. You can feel his huge bulge and try to buck your hips up into him. Fuck, you want him so badly. Geralt moves his mouth down to your breasts and takes one of your pesky nipples between his teeth. You cry out, the sensation almost too much. The witcher brings up a knee between your legs. His thigh presses into your mound as he grinds into you. The juices coming out of you soak through his thin clothing. “Dirty little whore hasn’t even dried up and already wants to fuck again” Geralt mutters, sending shivers down your spine. He sits up onto his knees and looks over you. The wild wolf is ready to devour you now. 
Geralt kneels between your legs, clearly enjoying the view of you squirming under him. With one of his long fingers he catches a stream of Jaskiers semen slowly dripping out of your cunt. He looks at it closely, then holds it in front of your face. “Taste”. You stick out your tongue to lick the glistening white from his finger. It tastes salty and tangy. “Good girl” the witcher growls and finally moves to undo his pants. As he shoves them down his thighs his erect member springs free, big and prodding. Precum has gathered on the tip and long veins run along it. You want to trace them with your tongue. Your mouth feels dry and your stomach flutters from anticipation. Geralt lowers himself down and very slowly drags his member through your wet folds. “Mh please, Geralt” you try to entice him. But he just lubes up his dick and sits up again. He starts pumping himself lazily with one hand while eyeing you from above. You are so turned on, your skin feels like it is set on fire and it takes all your resolve to not grab at the witcher to try to pull him down towards him.
Jaskier, who had been recovering on the other side of the bed has turned his attention to the action again. “Get behind her” the witcher says over your head in his direction. A naked Jaskier climbs behind you, his hair still moist from sweat, with a grin on his face. Your head comes to rest on his chest as he sits against the bedframe. The bard immediately takes both of your breasts into his hands. Grabbing from below he brings them up to squeeze them together. “Such fantastic tits, m’lady” he whispers into your ear and kisses your neck. You cannot respond as your mind is caught up in watching Gerlat slowly fucking into his big hand while his dick somehow grows even larger and redder. Your pussy clenches in anticipation. “Please” you try your best puppy eyes on him, “I need to feel you inside. Need to be stretched and used. I need you to use me”. Your begging seems strike a cord in the witcher. Gerald leaps down onto both of you, grips your ankles and puts them up onto his shoulders, your lower back now elevated and just Jaskier holding you in place. Geralt’s pulsating member prods at your entrance. “I will show you what a perfect toy you are, whore” the witcher growls and finally, finally enters you. He still doesn’t slam, but it’s forcible enough for you to feel an almost painful stretch. Your mind goes blank, and you only realize that you have been crying out as you gasp for air. 
You are pressed into the bards torso as Geralt truly starts pounding into you. You hear him grunting and his face has lost any semblance of being human. He more than ever looks like a wild, furious animal. He grabs one of your wrists and pushes your palm onto your lower belly. “Do you feel me filling you up? Hmm, feel how I fill you all the way to your gut” “Yes sir, I can feel you” you answer weakly. Geralt grunts and presses your hand down hard onto where your belly bulges as he slides in and out of you. You wine from the extra stimulation, your head is spinning ever faster. You feel Jaskier’s hardening cock against your backside while the witcher is over you fucking the air out of your lungs. Jaskier snakes his hand down your body and finds your clit. Your whines become ever louder as the searing heat starts building in you. You come within seconds, crying out loudly. Your stomach visibly clenches, your whole body shakes as the fire spreads from your lower belly into every corner of your being. You feel your pussy flooding and it washing over Geralts cock and drip down over your ass. Sweat makes your body glide against the one below you as you are rocked up and down by Geralts thrusts. Jaskier is desperately rutting up into you while holding you tight against his frame. You see stars and your ears are ringing when you feel first Jaskier and then Geralt finding their releases. Hot cum shoots both into and onto you. Jaskier moans into your ear and you can feel Gerald’s cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into you. The aftershock spasms in your lower belly make you moan his name for what feels like an eternity. 
Your back is wet and sticky, but you couldn’t care less. Jaskier holds you in a tight but soft embrace while your breath and heart rate are coming down to normal. Geralt has collapsed forward above you, but is holding himself up on his arms, head down and white hair spreading around your midsection. His cock is still inside you, softening slowly. Nobody moves, only heavy breathing can be heard for a while. You never want to move again.
Geralt lifts his head to look into your eyes asking a silent question. You smile weakly back at him. Yes, you are ok. In fact you are great. Just perfect. Afterglow spasms of the hardest orgasm of your life are still running through your body. You clench down onto Geralt and he glides out of you. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Geralt cups your face and leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Well done little lady”. You heart and body are warm and a big wide, drunken smile is plastered over your face. 
Jaskier stirs below you and you slide down his right side. “I guess these bedsheets are ruined anyway” the bard states as he starts to dry his chest and belly off all the fluids that made their way between your bodies using the blanket. It takes another 5min of you colleting yourself before you sit up onto the bedside. A half-clothed Geralt helps you up on shaky legs to walk you to the fire where the men had put a pot of water to heat. They help you clean yourself with a hot towel. You smile at them. It is nice being cared for so gently. Geralt caresses your hair and cheeks. His sweet gesture at odds with the intimidating armour and sword he is putting on. “Thank you” he says finally after he made sure you were string enough to stand on your own again. “We have to leave now, heading up north. But we might come back in a few weeks.” You grasp his strong arm. “I will make sure to get word of your arrival” you say leaning your head into Geralt’s big palm. Jaskier, hugs you from behind. “We wouldn’t want to miss you!” He places a big hearty kiss on your cheek. “I might compose a song about you!” With this he lifts up the packed bags and makes his way downstairs to saddle the horses. 
Geralt still kneels before you. His thumb caresses over your lips as he gets up. He places a kiss on your hair. As he turns around to leave you hold his arm back. “You know, I think they are wrong.” Geralt turns his head with a questioning face. “I think witchers do have feelings. At least one does.” Geralt nods slowly, turns around and leaves with what you think might be a little smile.
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Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again…
It was another busy day where knights, men and women of all corners came in to rest their battle-weary feet and drink mead. There would be the occasional brawl but they were nothing when you compared it to battling a cursed wyvern with a blindfold.
You exited the back room having just refilled the pitcher of cool mead when a familiar grunt caught your attention. Just behind a rowdy table of farmers, in the corner, sat the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia - and a bard who was far too chipper while sober.
Inching a little closer, you busied yourself with empty flagons while remaining within earshot of the pair.
“Come on - it’s not a bad lyric. Ah, what do you know? You can wield a sword but not understand the complex meaning behind a beautiful string of words.” The bard said.
Geralt scoffed. “It wasn’t complex.”
An old man slid a few coins across the table for the service which you pocketed and then moved on to the next.
“We can’t stay long.” Geralt told his companion. You glanced back briefly and saw the brightly dressed man staring into his coin satchel, concerned.
“I could swear there was more silver in here. Geralt, I think I’ve been indecently swindled.”
You wanted to confirm that the man could easily have fallen prey to the notorious pick-pockets that haunt the tavern but you stayed silent, now distracted by a customer who ordered some pies.
“Don’t forget the carrots this time.” He reminded.
You wanted to tell him where to shove his carrots but heard your name being shouted from across the floor.
“Y/n, I need a word!” It was the tavern owner who enjoyed paying you less than what you were owed. With a sigh, you trudged over to him away from most prying ears. “You’ve been waiting on those tables long enough. Deliver those pies and refill goblets on the double or I’ll show you out the door.”
You had half a mind to bite back but chose to hold the words at bay. In ten minutes, the pie was ready to be collected from the kitchens. As you walked it to the table, you made the decision to confront Geralt but upon approaching his table, found that the Witcher and his bard had vanished, leaving behind some coins for the hospitality.
Geralt would have heard your name being bellowed. He would have seen you answer the call. And yet, he still left?
Typical!
The farmer who had ordered the food found his plate empty as you swerved around his chair and rushed out the wooden door. Turning left, you followed the small path down to where riders often tied their horses, your own being one of them - spotting the familiar silver hair and lute of the bard.
Words appeared to have failed and rational thoughts had abandoned your mind the second you fled.
Your hand flipped the pie out of its casing and with one, well-aimed throw, found its mark. The bard screamed and the Witcher stopped in his tracks instantly stilling for a few seconds.
Then he turned, his jaw clenched. “Did you throw a meat pie at my head?”
You tossed the empty pan over your shoulder. “You bet I did and I’ll do it again.”
The bard at Geralt’s side grabbed his guitar and hid behind the broad-shouldered man fearing that he would be next. “Oh, they’re pissed. What did you do?”
Geralt exhaled as he pulled stray bits of pastry out of his locks. “I’m not sure…”
“Not sure? You fucking ignored me in the tavern! Friends for years and it doesn’t warrant a simple ‘hello’?” You yelled.
Jaskier peered out from behind, “Oh, he’s always like that. We’ve been friends for several weeks and he pretends to hardly know me - such a jest.” He chuckled to himself quite fondly.
Ignoring the brightly coloured song man, Geralt addressed you, now free from the discarded food. He had indeed acknowledged the your presence the minute he set foot in the tavern but found himself reliving old memories instead - some good, others painful.
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that business with the striga.”
“The striga?” You repeated, remembering the event he was referring to where he had taken claim over the beasts defeat instead of giving you proper recognition. “That was over a year ago, I was bitter for perhaps a few weeks but no more. But you wouldn’t know that because you ran off with Roach.”
“I didn’t run off - I just - you were injured and I had no reason to hang around while you healed.” The Witcher explained. “In hindsight, I probably should have checked in.”
You nodded vehemently. “And since you didn’t, you’re very deserving of that meat pie.”
“The pie was mean.” Geralt frowned.
“Oh a tale of a strained but beautiful friendship filled with battles and miscommunication - you must regale me with the details.” Jaskier grinned.
You would gladly do so if your old friend would have your company once more. Raising a brow at Geralt, you posed the silent question.
“Don’t you have a job?” Geralt asked.
You squinted in return. “I abandoned my post and stole a pie. I’m surely fired.”
“Fine - but only until the next village.” The Witcher negotiated, knowing full well that his friend would likely be staying for a longer time. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up on his horse with a small grunt.
You shared a similar grin to the bard and sent a high whistle into the air to call forth your own steed for the journey ahead.
When the horse approached, you took hold of the reins and walked alongside Jaskier.
“While we’re on the topic, I’ll tell you about the time when Geralt fought an ifrit almost fully naked.” You winked and caught the eye roll on your friends face.
Jaskier pulled his guitar to the front and strummed a few strings to start a catchy tune. “Oh, I’m ready for this.”
~ More imagines here ~
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Text
Characters who will tell you to use them while you ride them
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96 notes · View notes
the-hidden-pages · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding | Sex Pollen - Jaskier x Fem!Reader
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Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm 
Disclaimer: I did interpret “sex pollen” as loose as aphrodisiac - it’s not an actual pollen, it’s a liquid.  Also, it's late, I have work, I did rush a little to get this out but it's better than another day sans post I hope!
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Summary: Geralt had warned you of the dangers of consorting with witches. But you had never anticipated the dangers being this.
Warnings: NSFW, Public Sex/Orgies, Aphrodisiac, Dub Con because of the aphrodisiac but they love each other I swear.
Geralt had warned you.
Geralt had warned you of the dangers of witches often enough. Even Yennefer, a witch herself, often advised against mingling with others that dabble in Chaos.
But that didn’t stop Jaskier from accepting the opportunity of performing on behalf of a town’s witch.
It didn’t stop you from attending the gathering in support of him.
Which is how the pair of you wound up in the mansion of the local town’s “healer”, surrounded by townsfolk that were in the know, and various other mages and witches.
Jaskier had sung wonderfully, as captivating as he ever did - and to hold the attention of those as vain as witches and mages was no small feat, you’ll give him that.
As the night went on, he was free to mingle, returning to your side and sip on the wine that was being freely poured, to feast on the foods presented.
“And to think Geralt was worried,” Jaskier scoffed, in his element, overconfident in the way he often became when things were going a little too smoothly.
It didn’t stop you from smiling though, an easy grin matching his on your face. “A worrywart, that one. A white haired worrywart of a Witcher.”
“Isn’t he just? He ought to have more trust in us.”
You chuckled, taking another sip before waving your glass in emphasis. “Did he warn you about the wine?”
“No, what of it?”
“Yennefer mentioned some witches put something in it, an aphrodisiac. Makes the night more fun as it goes on.”
Jaskier made a face, somewhere between a grimace and a grin. “Oh woe is me, a witch’s orgy. Save me, Butcher of Blaviken!”
A snort escapes you as the pair of you take another sip, continuing to pass the time discussing his various adventures with Geralt, his performance, and the various attendees of the soiree.
The conversation carried on easily, until the vibe of the room suddenly, inexplicably, intangibly…Shifted
Suddenly the air was heavier, thicker in a way that was hotter, heavier. It felt as though the voices of the other partygoers was quieting, slowing down. You became more aware of certain things - men sitting with their hands on other women’s thighs, just a little too high. A flush on women’s cheeks that ran a little brighter, went a little further down than the typical blush from too much wine.
And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.
His thigh lightly touching yours was suddenly scalding you, but in a way that you felt you simply couldn’t move away.
You hadn’t realized you had stopped listening to the conversation entirely until Jaskier called your name.
You met his eyes, ready to apologize, before immediately regretting it.
Were his eyes always so piercing? His hair always so soft? Did you always notice how deeply he unbuttoned his shirt, how noticeable the droplets of sweat were running down it.
Oh.
Oh.
“Jaskier,” you croaked out, suddenly noticing how dry your mouth was. You licked your lips and continued. “Jaskier, the wine. I don’t think Geralt was wrong.”
“Hmm?” the bard only hummed, and you met his eyes again. He was practically in a trance, staring at where your tongue had darted out to wet your lips.
Slowly, around you, you begin to hear soft sighs, and the lower, hushed tones of lovers speaking to one another.
You grow more aware of the unbearable, present, nearly painful heat between your legs, and when you shift, you realize that you’re already drenched.
“Jask…”
The bard reached forward, placing a large, warm, calloused hand on your thighs.
“They spiked the wine,” he breathes out, turning himself enough that his head is resting against yours, words breathing right in your ear and sending chills down your spine.
“Mhm,” your eyes are closed, trying to ignore the stimuli coming from all senses that your body seems hyper aware of. The gasps, the quiet moans, people growing closer.
Jaskier right beside you.
“Darling we can leave right now,” he breathes, hand on your thigh growing tighter, wandering ever so slightly higher. “We can rent a room in the nearest tavern - or two, if you want to wait this out. We don’t have to stay -”
You cut him off, pushing him back. You can see him start to form an apology, but before giving him the chance you stand and move to position yourself on his lap, straddling his legs and capturing him in a frantic kiss.
It’s not coordinated, or careful, or planned. The moment Jaskier’s brain catches up to what you’ve done, he’s immediately pried your lips open with his tongue, tasting you, claiming you, his hand coming around to cradle your head and pull you in deeper. His other hand wanders quickly, greedily, grasping at every inch of you that he can.
You already don’t want clothes in the way.
As quickly as you get on him, you stand again. The bard is dazed, bright eyes nothing but dark pupils gazing at you as you begin to make quick work of your clothes.
It’s the wine, some tiny, miniscule part in the back of your mind speaks. It’s the wine making you strip in front of a room of strangers, the wine making you mount your friend in a fit of desire.
The wine. Only the wine.
It has to be.
Your hands, in their flurry, begin to struggle with the laces, of which Jaskier is far too eager to help you with.
He leans forward, reaching up to help you loosen the corset. As it’s flung somewhere to your side, he makes quick work of your undershirt, your skirts.
Quickly, so quickly it all began, and just as quickly you’re completely nude, with the bard urging you back into his lap.
In your haste, you slip a little, falling to one side and straddling only one of his thighs.
Despite this you moan, jolting slightly as sliding on the thigh offers some friction to your throbbing clit.
“Fuck,” you gasp, grasping on to his shoulders tightly, your body moving without your full consent as you seek any form of relief to the growing burn within you.
It’s too much, the feeling of the cotton trousers beneath you, offering a burning friction to satiate your need, the growing groans echoing throughout the entire room. 
It’s not enough, when Jaskier himself lets out a beautiful moan, feeling you begin to soak through his clothes as you claw at him desperately.
“Dove, please,” he begs, leaning forward to pepper your neck and collarbone with bites. Your hips rock faster, until he tugs harshly at your hair, exposing your neck fully as you shout. His teeth mark your neck and his grip remains firm, his other hand wandering down to aide your movements. 
Your mind, in its wine and drug and lust addled haze, can only focus on two things: easing the burn between your legs, and hearing one of his beautiful sounds again.
And so your hand promptly finds his cock, working it through the flap in his trousers and stroking.
Gods is he hard.
It’s his turn to have his head thrown back, to let out a loud, melodic moan to the room to join the symphony of the others’. It’s rougher than you expected, lightly due to his night of signing and shouting boisterously to a room, but hells did it ever manage to turn you on.
You’re rushing it, you know it, he knows it, but somehow no one can bring themselves to mind as you raise yourself up further, straddling him properly once again.
You stare into the bard’s blue eyes, taking in every expression as you sink down fully, gasping as you feel every inch, every curve, every vein. It’s easy, with how wet you’ve become, and within seconds you’re riding him and hard as you can.
He’s eager to help you, hands grasping your hips so tightly they’re bound to leave bruises, controlling your pace and pulling you ever so slightly closer.
“This isn’t,” Jaskier gasped out, between groans and moans bites to your neck. “This isn’t what I wanted for our first night together.”
“You dreamed of this?” You tease half-heartedly, feeling a warmth in your heart bloom despite the absurdity of the situation.
Was this bard really about to give you a love confession whilst balls deep in you in the midst of a sex party?
“Of course,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. “Gods, so many nights I wanted to have you, in the nearest room in a tavern, against the nearest wall, in the midst of camp. There was a plan, wine and dinner and singing and flowers, just us - fuck do that again.”
You reach for his hair, forcefully pulling his head back to meet your gaze.
“We’ll do this again,” you promise, thighs burning as you ride faster, chasing that growing feeling within you. “I’ve wanted it too, and we’ll talk about it when this damned wine isn’t in our heads but Jaskier, please just fuck me right now I’m so close -”
He stops you, hand travelling forward to meet your clit, rubbing in just the right way that has you seeing stars within seconds.
With your high comes his, and you can’t help but whine at the feeling of his cum shooting deep within you, warming you from the inside out as you clutch each other desperately, needly, as though you were the answer to some eternal unasked question.
As the pair of you come down, gasping, panting, your ears pick up the rest of the party beginning to quiet as well. It was almost as if the spell had a time limit, you thought aimlessly.
As you came to, and the sensations began to dull, your mind grew louder.
You had just fucked Jaskier.
You were still sitting on his cock.
As you go to move, his hand holds your hip tightly, and the other travels upwards to brush some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. His gaze is gentle, kind, but hungry.
“We’ll do it again, you say?” he teases, that overconfident smirk back on his face. You can feel him hardening inside you once again, and you shift as a reflex, causing a burst of heat to ignite in you once again. “What say you to back at the inn?”
********************************************************
They did not give me cannonical aphrodisiac usage at witch parties for nothing.
Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!
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valeskafics · 7 months
Text
Headcanons for Dating Modern Geralt & Jaskier
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TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Witcher characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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Geralt
-the most overprotective boyfriend on the planet, will throw hands for you anywhere and everywhere, can and will win every fight
-does not stand for any disrespect towards you
-is the strong but silent type, but in private, so cute and adorable, loves it when you run your hands through his hair or braid it
-baths together every night, favorite type of bonding
-teaches you self defense but really it's just an excuse to get a little skin to skin contact with you
-loves hugging you from behind, resting his chin on top of your forehead
-love language is acts of service, he's a man of few words (most of them being "hm" or "fuck"), but he will show you he loves you with his tight hugs, with the little things he remembers about you, etc
-favorite pastime is having a night in with you, just playing video games together or binging one of your favorite shows
-probably has a job like a bounty hunter or bodyguard, loves when he comes home and you fuss over all his scrapes and bruises
-gives the absolute best hugs, like when he wraps his arms around you, it feels like he never wants to let you go
-close with your family, especially your mom (he's a kiss ass and she adores him)
-loves it when you hit the gym with him, will bench press you instead of the weights just to show off sometimes
-can and will cook for you, loves making breakfast together on lazy sunday mornings
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Jaskier
-this man is the most extra boyfriend on the planet
-constantly writing new songs for you, always playing them for you and you're his number one fan, he fucking adores it
-every day is a new adventure with this guy, he always has some new club to visit, some new restaurant to try out
-you guys double date a lot with geralt and yen, and it's funny because while they're the cool mature couple, you guys are the funny immature ones, you all balance each other out
-constantly complimenting you, hyping you up on social media "that's my baby" head ass
-tries cooking for you and fails miserably, the two of you usually like sticking to takeaway or going out to new, fun restaurants together
-enjoys non traditional dates like amusement parks, laser tag, etc
-just such a sweet, genuinely fun boyfriend
-absolutely willing to have a threesome
-doesn't matter how long you two have been together, he'll flirt with you like he's not even your boyfriend, the man is completely shameless
-so supportive of everything you do, you can literally do no wrong in this man's eyes, he worships the ground you walk upon
-loves hanging out with you and your friends, and they all adore him
-loves pda, kissing you in public is his absolute favorite thing to do, why should he hide is complete love and adoration for you? the world needs to know how in love the two of you are, in his opinion
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The Witcher Masterlist
my requests for the Witcher are currently OPEN!! i'm partial to eskel, and love writing imagines/talking about my headcanons, but open to pretty much any character!!
message me/hmu to be added to a taglist!
main masterlist | request guidelines
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Geralt of Rivia
r o m a n t i c
A Quiet Moment - relationship: geralt x reader | summary: based on some prompt that asked you to write a scene between two characters just being around each other with no dialogue. Immediately thought of Geralt. | tags: fluff, angst
Extraordinarily normal - coming soon...
Scales Unbalanced - coming soon...
Geralt of Rivia NSFW Alphabet | tags: fluff, smut
p l a t o n i c
Stern - coming soon...
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Eskel
A Hero from the Songs - coming soon...
Ribs - relationship: eskel x reader | summary: You're not from the world where the Witcher takes place. So, to stay alive, you stay glued to your witcher - Eskel. Catching feelings for him was bound to happen anyway. Right? Maybe a tiny, life-threatening encounter with a leshy is just the little push the both of you need. | tags: fluff, angst
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Witchers
Witchers + stressed singlemom!reader - characters: geralt, eskel, lambert, coen | tags: fluff, angst
Geralt, Lambert, Eskel + drunk!so - characters: geralt, lambert, eskel | tags: fluff
Witchers + someone making their s/o uncomfortable - characters: geralt, eskel, lambert, coen | tags: slight angst, fluff
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Imagines + headcanons (various)
How The Witcher characters would react to someone from our world falling into theirs - characters: geralt, yen, jaskier, triss, eskel, lambert, vesemir | tags: fluff, crack, timetravel
Modern!Human in Kaer Morhen - characters: geralt, yen, triss, jaskier, eskel, coen, lambert, vesemir | tags: fluff, crack, timetravel
How The Witcher characters would react to Lambert’s child surprise - characters: geralt, yen, ciri, triss, eskel, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff
The Witcher characters + monstertamer!reader - characters: geralt, yen, jaskier, ciri, eskel, lambert, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff
The Witcher characters + maleficent/fae!reader - characters: geralt, jaskier, yennefer, ciri, eskel, lambert, coen, vesemir | tags: fluff
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queenxxxsupreme · 8 months
Text
Benevolent Creatures (Jaskier x siren!reader)
A/N: Hi babes!!! I will be posting a little something shortly to just explain a couple things but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: nothing outside of canon for the Witcher Netflix
Word Count: 4.5k
“Where is Jaskier leading us, Geralt?” Cirilla asked quietly. Geralt looked over his shoulder to where she sat atop Roach.
“I don’t know.” He answered.
Just ahead of them was Jaskier. He strummed his lute as he walked down a narrow path of moss-covered stones.
Ciri’s eyes flickered to her right. Something scurried beneath the underbrush.
“How much longer until we get to wherever it is you’re taking us, Jaskier?” Geralt stepped over a tree root, then guided Roach by the reins over it.
“Not long at all.” The bard spoke over his shoulder. “We’re nearly there.”
“And where exactly is there?” Ciri raised her eyebrows. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’ll see.”
Geralt didn't like how silent everything was. There were no crickets, no frogs, no birds. There was no sign of life anywhere in the swamp.
Roach huffed and whinnied, jerking her head back. Her ears flickered back and forth as if she too was trying to find some sort of sound.
“Shh, girl.” Geralt signed axii, calming her down.
“What’s wrong with her?” Ciri furrowed her brow.
The witcher looked to his Child Surprise, then returned his gaze ahead.
“She knows something isn’t right.” He pulled back a branch from a black willow tree that dangled in the path.
Just a few moments later, the walkway opened up to reveal a pool of water. A wooden bridge that seemed to be decaying crossed over the water and led the way to a small wooden structure on the other side of the pool.
The wooden structure— which appeared to be a home —sat up on wooden stilts four feet off the ground. The front porch wrapped entirely around the home. Green moss and vines of all sorts grew along the sides of the structure, appearing as though it was being engulfed in greenery.
“Jaskier!” Geralt hissed. “What are we doing here?”
“Relax, Geralt.”
As he climbed the stairs to the house, Jaskier straightened out his jerkin and tucked his hair behind his ears. But he decided that having his hair behind his ears wasn’t a good idea and made him appear as though he was trying too hard. So he shook his head out to give himself a bit of a roughened look.
Letting out a breath, Jaskier raised his hand to knock on the door. Before his hand even touched the door, it was pulled open.
You stood just inside your home, a soft smile on your lips.
Without so much as a second thought, the bard embraced you in a firm hug. His arms wrapped around your waist and then around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your intoxicatingly sweet scent.
You kissed his neck since that was all you could reach, your fingers grasping his jerkin.
Jaskier pulled away so that he could properly kiss you. His hand found your chin, tilting your head up.
You smiled against his lips. Your hands came up to hold onto either side of his face. The sound of his heart beating quickly filled your ears. It was a familiar sound you always longed to hear.
He pulled away first, blue eyes finding yours.
“You smell odd.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb across his stubbly cheek.
You couldn’t quite place what he smelled like, but it wasn’t his usual scent. There was someone else laced with him, someone’s scent that made the hair on your neck stand on end.
“Well, I haven’t properly bathed in days— thanks to a series of unfortunate events.”
You opened your mouth to speak, ready to offer him a bath, but you heard movement to your right. You turned your head, eyes landing on the witcher and the child Jaskier had been traveling with.
You could sense her Chaos, the powerful aura radiating off of the girl. But she wasn’t what concerned you.
The white haired witcher carried twin swords on his back. A part of you wondered if they were the same swords he had decades ago. The same swords he used to try to murder you with. The same ones that he used to kill your sister.
A scar on your forearm burned from the sight of the swords. Instinctively, you placed your hand over the scar.
You took a step away from Jaskier, brows drawing together.
“Julian, what is the meaning of this?”
Geralt’s nose scrunched as he realized who you were. Your voice was far too familiar to forget. His medallion trembled, causing him to place his hand over it. The wrinkle between his brow deepened with frustration.
Without any explanation to the girl, he reached an arm out to guide Ciri behind him.
The simple action made you even more tense and unsure of the situation. He was preparing to fight you.
A growl began to vibrate in your chest, animalistic and primal.
“What the fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt demanded, drawing a sword from his back.
As you growled once more, dagger-like claws grew from what had once been human nails on your hands.
The bard came to stand between you both, holding his hands out to either of you.
“No, no! There will be no fighting!”
“Witcher.” You spoke through your teeth.
“What is she?” Ciri asked quietly, her question directed to Geralt.
“Siren.” Geralt let out a breath. He didn’t want to let on that he was worried. Should you choose to do so, you could very easily incapacitate him and slaughter Ciri and Jaskier. “Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought us here?”
“We will be safe here for a little while, Geralt! At least until we can get some sort of plan figured out.”
Your eyes shot to the bard, unaware of his intentions. Never had he brought anyone to your home.
“Ciri will not be staying here.” Geralt told him, yellow eyes finding yours.
Your lip curled up into a snarl. Human teeth were replaced with what looked like dozens of sharp canines.
“Alright, darling.” Jaskier turned to face you, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. You turned and stormed into your home before he could put his hand on you.
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
Jaskier followed quickly behind you.
“Y/N, I don’t—,”
“You brought a witcher here to my home, Julian! And now I cannot stay here!” You spun around to face him. Your chest ached with betrayal.
“My love, my dear heart. Geralt isn’t here to cause you any harm.”
“You can’t see into his mind.” You shook your head, walking away from him once more. “He’s already made his decision and decided my fate.”
“He’s probably made that decision based on what he knows of other beings like you, but my heart, you aren’t like them.” Jaskier took your hand to stop you from moving away from him. “You are different. All you need to do is show him.”
You looked up at him, searching his blue eyes for a few moments.
Gods, you had missed those blue eyes so much.
“I won’t beg a man for my life, Julian.”
You pulled your hands out of his and turned to walk away again. This time, you only made it a few steps before he spoke.
“I’ve told you stories of Geralt before, my sweet. You’ve heard the ballads of our journeys. I am so, so sorry that I brought them here to your home.” His eyes fell down to his hands momentarily. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice, dear heart. That girl out there, she’s in danger and this is the only place that I know she is safe. And Geralt trusts me, he trusts my judgment enough to allow me to bring her here…. So I-I suppose all I am asking is that you just please, please my love, my heart, trust me as well.”
You looked past him to the front door that was left open. The witcher still stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the porch.
Your stomach twisted with the idea of letting him into your home, into what was perhaps the only safe place you had left. After what had happened the last time you encountered the witcher, the mighty Butcher of Blaviken, you didn’t even want to be in the same providence as him.
“I do trust you, Julian.” You murmured.
Jaskier kissed your knuckles and then your lips, smiling at you.
“I owe you one.”
“You owe me more than that.” You raised your brows as he took a step away from you.
“Indeed I do.”
***
While Jaskier talked with Geralt and Ciri outside, you busied yourself with straightening a few things in your home.
There was a small stack of books that had grown on the kitchen table. You picked them up and crossed the room to the wall of bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.
“I didn’t think sirens were capable of appearing….” Ciri trailed off as she walked into your home. “Human.”
“They aren’t.” You placed the last book on the shelf. “Sirens are only capable of looking like sirens.”
“But you said she was a siren.” She looked over to Geralt.
“It’s…. complicated, Ciri.”
You crossed your arms, eyes set on Geralt.
“Because something is complicated, you refuse to explain it to her?”
The witcher gritted his teeth together.
“You are standing before what is perhaps the last Nixe on the Continent, Ciri.” Geralt held your gaze. “They were nearly hunted to extinction at the beginning of the century.”
“Why?”
“Because they are extremely dangerous. Far more than the sirens you’ve seen from Skellige.”
You tilted your chin up, trying your damnedest to remain calm and collected while the witcher spoke of the truth he knew.
“Every creature must hunt for their food.” You said. “A lion hunts for its food just the same as a fawn. Doesn’t mean the lion should be killed.”
“Your kind turned into a problem when you began slaughtering hundreds of humans purely for entertainment.”
The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable as neither you nor the witcher backed down from the glaring contest.
Jaskier clapped his hands together, making you look in his direction.
“Alright! Geralt, let’s go outside.”
“Come on, Ciri—,”
“No, she stays here.” Jaskier pointed to Ciri.
Geralt’s eyes shot over to the bard.
“I am not leaving her here with—,”
“Yes, you are.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm. “If Y/N wanted to spill blood today, she would have done so already. You know that. Now, outside! Come on!”
You watched as Jaskier ushered Geralt out of your home and closed the door behind himself.
Ciri looked around your home for a couple moments before her green eyes flickered to you.
“How long have you known Jaskier?”
“A while.”
“Geralt said you were dangerous.” Ciri’s blue eyes looked you over. “You don’t look dangerous.”
You wore an off white dress that brushed the floor as you walked. There was a slit up one side of the skirt that came just above mid-thigh. Over the dress was a dark green underbust corset. You wore no shoes, finding the material irritating and the restriction caused by them unbearable. Brown leather bracelets encircled both of your wrists and ankles.
You twisted a ring on one of your fingers as you moved towards the kitchen table.
“Come have a seat, child.”
She sat down across from you, curious to hear what you had to say.
“My kind…. We are very similar to sirens found on the coasts. We both are only women, and we both can produce what you know of as a siren song. But only sirens can fly, and only nixes can shapeshift.”
“That’s how you are able to appear human? By shapeshifting?”
“Yes.” You nodded, rubbing your arm absentmindedly. “Centuries ago, nixes existed just as any other creature. I suppose you could say we are dangerous, but humans are dangerous as well.”
“How are you dangerous?” Ciri tilted her head to the side a little.
“Just as sirens do, nixes hunt humans.”
The girl shifted in her spot, her eyes falling to the deer mandible on the table.
“Don’t worry, child.” You reached over to offer her a comforting hand, but at the last minute, you decided against it. You returned your hand to your lap. “Julian wouldn’t have allowed you here if I was like that.”
“Nixes…. What did Geralt mean when he said nixes kill for entertainment?”
You let out a soft breath.
“Nixes and humans are very similar, dear. Humans kill for pleasure too. They start wars, they slaughter their neighbors…. But my kind, we had a few slip ups where we went too far…. And there was no going back. For that very reason, we were hunted to near extinction.”
The front door opened and automatically, you stood up. It was only Jaskier, who offered you a gentle smile.
“Ah, sorry about that, ladies.”
“Where’s Geralt?” Ciri asked.
“He had to take Roach into town to be stabled.l since Y/N doesn’t have a stable she could stay in.”
“I have no need for a horse.” You reminded him. “They tend to have a strong dislike for my kind.”
You sat back down in your chair as Jaskier came to stand next to your chair.
“I apologize for his behavior, my sweet.” He placed a hand upon your arm and leaned down to kiss your head.
“There’s no reason for you to apologize for the ways of another man.”
“I hope Ciri isn’t giving you any hassle.”
The girl wrinkled her nose at Jaskier.
“None at all.” You smiled, shaking your head softly. “She’s just curious.”
***
Jaskier took Geralt away from the house in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t hear their conversation. But the witcher wasn’t keen on putting space between himself and the monster that had been left with his Child Surprise.
“I will not go any further, Jaskier.” Geralt spoke firmly, stopping his tracks just a few feet from the porch.
“Geralt, you—,”
“You led us straight to a fucking siren, Jaskier.”
“You don’t understand, Geralt! Ciri is safer here than she is anywhere else!”
“She’d be safer in a wyvern’s nest than here.”
“In all our years, Geralt, we’ve come across plenty of monsters that weren't actually monsters. Y/N is one of those–,”
“I promise you, Jaskier, she isn’t what you think.”
“But she is, Geralt!” A smile came to Jaskier’s face. “I’ve known her for seven years, and I swear to you she is one of the kindest, most gentle beings I have ever met. And-And I cannot have you holding such a harmful bias against someone I love!”
Geralt shook his head, rubbing his brow.
“You said the same thing about the blacksmith’s daughter in Caingorn last month.”
Jaskier shook his head and waved his hands dismissively.
“No, no, Geralt. Love isn’t black and white my friend! It’s shades of gray. Y/N— She is my one true love. The one my heart yearns for every bleeding second of the day. The one I long for when I am away. The one that causes a fire in my–,”
“Does she know your love isn’t black and white?”
“Yes! She does! And she is welcoming to my love.”
The witcher raised his brows. Jaskier let out a sigh, brushing his hair back.
“Geralt, please. She’s someone important to me. I love her and I trust her with my life. Yes, in the past she has hurt people…. But what matters is that she isn’t that anymore.”
Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering to the house.
He wanted to trust Jaskier, but sometimes the bard’s judgment could be distracted by the presence of an attractive being.
“The first time I feel that Ciri’s life is in danger, we are leaving.”
“Thank you, Geralt!” Jaskier embraced him in a tight hug. “And I will speak with Y/N about her…. Hospitality. Though I’m sure showing up on her doorstep was quite the surprise. Y/N isn’t keen on strangers, but she is a sweetheart once you get to know her.”
The witcher grumbled, disagreeing with his friend.
***
With two satchels over his shoulders, Geralt made his way into the house. His eyes flickered around the room in search of Ciri. He spotted his Child Surprise sitting at the table with you and Jaskier.
Jaskier’s chair was pulled rather close to yours, his arm wrapped around yours and your fingers laced together.
For a split second, Geralt saw you smiling as you spoke to Ciri. But then your eyes flickered over to the White Wolf and in the same instant, the smile fell from your lips.
“It’s getting late.” He spoke, placing the bags down beside the table. “Jaskier mentioned a guest room where Ciri could rest.”
“Just down the hall.” You nodded once.
Ciri’s stomach growled with hunger. She smiled sheepishly, bringing her hand up to her stomach.
You and the witcher were the only two to hear thanks to your enhanced hearing.
“My apologies, child. I wasn’t aware I’d be having company.” You frowned, feeling a bit guilty that you didn’t have the proper food for her.
“In the morning, I will go into town and gather what supplies we will need.” Jaskier volunteered.
You stood to your feet and moved around your home, picking up a netted bag.
“Where are you going, Y/N?” Jaskier’s eyes followed you.
“I can’t have her going to bed with an empty stomach.” You gestured to her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. For the meantime, start a fire in the hearth, please.”
As the front door closed behind you, Ciri looked at Geralt.
“I quite like her.”
He grunted and rolled his eyes.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgements.”
“Same could be said for you.”
Geralt turned his head to look at the bard, who moved away from the table to start a fire in the hearth.
***
After a small dinner consisting of fish cooked over the fire, you found yourself sitting alongside the young girl as she asked you questions.
“Are Nixes from a specific area?”
“We can inhabit any water source. Lakes, rivers, ponds, seas.”
“And swamps?”
You smiled a little, nodding your head.
“Yes, even swamps.”
“Where are you from?”
You looked over to her for a few moments, trying to think of a good answer.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, child, you don’t keep track of something so trivial.”
She nodded her head and fell silent for a little while.
“I think it is a good time for bed.” Geralt stood to his feet.
“Y/N, have you got anything Ciri can change into?” Jaskier asked. “At least until her clothes can be washed tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. But I do think she could use a bath before changing into clean clothes, don’t you think so, dear?”
“A bath would be lovely.” Ciri nodded her head enthusiastically. The poor girl was smudge with dirt and grime. Her greasy hair was pulled back into a braid and she smelled less than pleasant. A bath would be the perfect way to finish the night.  
“There’s a pool of water not too far away–,”
“It’s getting dark outside.” Geralt interjected, causing himself to be at the other end of your glare once more. “There are things outside that could harm Ciri.”
“I can keep her safe, witcher.”
Geralt locked his jaw.
“Geralt.” Jaskier said his name as if to encourage him to let you take the young girl out.
“Fine. Ten minutes.”
You nodded once, a wordless agreement.
***
You sat on the edge of the pool of water. One foot was dipped into the water. You leaned back on your hands, your eyes flickering around the edge of the woods.
While the princess bathed, you sat guard.
Crickets, cicadas, and frogs made a beautiful and tranquil sound that resonated through the woods. Every now and then, something would splash as it broke into the water on the other side of the pool. Ciri would jump and turn in the direction of the noise. You would tell her that it was a bullfrog or a fish breaching the surface, and you may have lied a little bit to her whenever the noise came from an alligator. The animals had no interest in coming close to you, so the girl was safe.
“Y/N? Can I ask you something?” Ciri brushed her wet hair over one shoulder. You gave her a nod in reply. “Geralt is usually a very good judge of character…. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so hostile towards someone within the first few moments of meeting them.”
You turned your head to watch a black and white ringed snake slither along the top of the water and away from yourself and Ciri.
“This isn’t my first encounter with him.” Your eyes flickered back to her. “The Continent is unfortunately far too small for those of us unfazed by time.”
“I take it you don’t like each other.”
There was a long pause as you gazed at her, tempted to tell her all the gory details of the first time you ran into the infamous Butcher himself.
“He killed my sister.” Your voice fell to a quiet murmur.
“I…. I’m sorry for your loss.
You sat up, brushing the dirt off of your palms.
“She was the reason for her own demise in the end. Witchers rarely give my kind a second chance. The White Haired One saw us as more than just beasts. He gave my sister and myself a second chance. She could not control her urges.”
“Urges?”
You nodded lightly, reaching your hand out to skim the surface of the water.
“Every monster craves something. Most act on their hunger, slaughtering entire villages to satisfy their cravings. Some act on the pain that rests inside them. They destroy whatever they can get their hands on in an effort to get others to feel the same pain they do.”
“And what is it you do?” Ciri tilted her head to the side just a little.
“Survive.”
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ramen-flavored · 8 months
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Damn, I wish they didn’t leave the season 3 finale on a cliff hanger like that. What a shame there won’t be a fourth season.
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writersblockedx · 9 months
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The End of What Could Have Been
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Pairing - Jaskier x Fem!Reader Summary - Jaskier finally gives in at trying to flirt with his favourite barmaid - something that only makes her fall harder for him. Warnings - alcohol, mention of a brothel? Words - 2.1K
A/n - Hi, I’m back! I know I’ve been gone for a little while; writers block has been killing me. But I’m back at it again, hopefully back at posting regularly again.
Masterlist
It had become the cycle of the night. As the stragglers of the Inn began to make their way back to their own beds - or hay stacks for some of them - he would appear. Far too wide-eyed for this time in the night, lute strapped over his shoulder and a glistening smile most female bar keeps had never been able to resist. Well, most expect for yourself.
Jaskier was sweet, that was true, but he was equally greedy. And the whole town knew of it. The stories of his lewd behaviour with his several different partners were laced throughout his lyrics, right alongside the fantastical story of the Witcher and the many creatures the two fought off together. Though, with that very bard in front of you now, you struggled to believe he had the same strength of a Witcher.
"Same as always, Y/n." His elbows leaned against the wooden bar as he slid a couple of coins across for you. Always a couple extra for your own pocket.
You simply nodded your head in an act to show your acknowledgement of him before turning to gather a pint of beer for the bard. "Not in the mood for conversation tonight?" He questioned while you had your back turned.
You only said anything when the cup that was brimming with frothy ale was in your hand. "Not with you. Not tonight." Ever so bluntly, that snap in your tone slipped from your tongue as you placed the drink down in front of him with a thud.
He flashed his puppy eyes; he had gotten good at doing that. "And whys that?"
Your expression never faulted. You didn't dare. You had told yourself for almost a month while Jaskier had been playing at this pub that you wouldn't be one of the many to fall prey to his sweet smile and his even sweeter words. "Because the only conversation you want to have is one where it ends with you getting into my pants." You said it so sternly. So casual. Without a lick of embarrassment as if it were a passing comment, lacking any source of meaning.
But Jaskier's response had proved different. He stiffened and struggled to swallow the ale that lingered on his tongue. "Can't blame a man for trying." His response came a second too late - attempting to get over the initial shock that had stunned him too much to speak straight away.
"I can when, despite getting your answer, you're still trying." You didn't break. With every word, you lean slightly closer, till there were only inches between you.
"Well," He sighed lightly and leaned back, "I still haven't heard you tell me to stop."
You couldn't help but laugh, "I know you're a bard, but you're not stupid, surely."
"You didn't have to go there."  He quipped. "I personally don't think you want...this to stop." His words were as cautious as one in a sword fight. One wrong move and he was frightened you were about to stab him in the back.
For the first time, you became hesitant. You were uncertain. Of course, you could admit Jaskier did have that sweet smile and the charm to accompany such. He also was easy on the eyes, had a slick manner and was, as much as you hated to admit it, the type of bachelor you could see yourself spending the night with - or several. But he was infamous for such behaviour. He travelled from town to town, bed to bed, and you were not about to the 90th woman on his list. That of such, was what you refused.
So you shifted, and slipped back into your stern facade as if nothing had ever happened, like there had never been a blink of uncertainty. "This," You pointed between the two of you, "Never even started." Words so sharp they cut through Jaskier's heart like a knife to butter. While the man was fine to break others' hearts, his was too just as fragile and sensitive. And to hear such from a woman he had grown to admire over the weeks shook his core. With the words written out in front of him, he knew he could no longer ignore them.
And so you straightened your back and stared at the boy you were forced to resist. "You finish your ale, I'll close up." You announced, without any input from him. Normally, he would last at least another three drinks. But tonight, neither of you wanted the company of the other. The air between you had become tense and rigid. Air of which you were not in the mood to breathe.
So you took it upon yourself to make that decision. You started stacking the chairs around the pub, cleaning the sticky tables and making sure everything was as it should be. The only thing left was Jaskier. He took his final sip. He placed the cup back on the bar and let out a deep breath; he knew this was the end. This was the point in which you had drawn the line, you had told him no once and for all. And you had given him no choice but to listen.
There as he stood, he turned to you. At first, he looked you up and down, taking in the last of what remained—this night marked the end of what could have been. He locked eyes with you. Neither of you moved. Neither of you said a word. After that moment of acceptance passed, he provided a nod. With that, he left the Inn without a trace. That night, in your lonely bed, you struggled to sleep, plagued by the ever-yawning question of if you just made a mistake.
By the next morning, you came to face the consequences of your own actions. You strolled in for your shift as you always did to find the Inn relatively empty. In fact, more empty than it ever had been in the past month. The only ones to occupy the Inn were the same stragglers which never seemed to leave. It didn't take you long to figure out why; the lack of strumming music in the Inn was likely the culprit. And, after that conclusion, you came to assume that it was partly the fault of yourself and a certain encounter from the night before.
"No bard today?" You queried your boss, the Innkeeper, as he stood cleaning the wooden bar.
"No bard anymore." He answered. A part of your brain was tugged with curiosity, the other knew that you shouldn't want to know. You cut the ties. You were at fault. You should leave things as they were. "Get used to how things used to be. Just the regulars again." That was one, if the only, good thing about Jaskier: the customers he brought. You could never deny his lyrical beauty and the lull of his lute. So brilliant, in fact, it almost brought you a pay rise.
Your head dropped in thought. No matter how much you wanted to accept this, a part of you wondered if this decision came from a reaction of the night prior. "Where is he staying?" You spat the words out before you could stop yourself. "The bard?" You added, suddenly aware of how strange that question may sound to your boss.
To be expected, the man raised a brow, "I'm not sure," He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "That cheap Inn up the road probably. Or a bench." With that, the grumpy old Inn keeper turned his back to you, going back to sort out the several types of ales.
For a moment, you stared. But the thought nagged you too much; Why not? He was leaving, what else was there to lose? He was sweet, admirable and you couldn't help yourself. You had only wished you had realised such fact the night before. Without thinking twice, you left. You took off without another word and headed to that cheap Inn your boss had pointed to.
By the time you arrived, you came to realise it was perfect timing. Jaskier was getting ready to depart. He had a couple of bags hung over his shoulder as he slung them over a horse. His expression was, until you came into his sights, set into a stern hold. And then, a glint of wonder reached his face, and the very corners of his lips twisted upright just slightly. He wouldn't admit it yet, but he was happy to see you had come back to him.
"And the barmaid returns." He gleamed, trying to not let that smile on his face grow any more than it already had done.
You tilted his head at him, "You didn't tell me you were leaving last night." You stated, choosing it best to ignore his greeting.
"You think that would have changed how things went?" There. You caught it right as it happened; that flirtatious speck in his pupils that never seemed to leave him - sometimes, no matter who he was talking to. When he received only a stern expression in return, he sighed and changed his tone as if he had never made that comment. "I didn't know I would be leaving until after I left." He answered, honestly.
A moment of silence passed as you settled in the realisation. You only needed confirmation: "Was it what I said?"
Another grin graced his face. But not flirtatious or cheeky, rather bittersweet. "I know you're just a bard maid,  but you're not stupid." He reiterated your own words from last night.
For that, you swallowed the lump which had suddenly grown in your throat. Then, with a breath, you replied, "You don't have to leave, the money's good here, no?" You knew your boss must have been paying him a decent paycheck.
He shifted on his feet, "I don't like staying in the same place for too long." The boy admitted.
"Then why did last night change your mind?"
He took a moment and fought himself so as not to repeat what he had said prior. "Most of the time, I can find anyone to entertain myself with, no matter where I am. But," He paused, thought on his words as if they were of utter importance, "But just the way when I walked into your Inn-"
You cut him off, "You mean when I told you to piss off because we didn't like silly lute music being played?" Saying that now was laughable.
And Jaskier had let out a chuckle, "Yes, then. I thought you were a shell I wanted to break and I found myself not bothered with anyone else. Not even with the mistresses at the Brothal. I wanted to get to know you and, I don't know, I looked forward to every night when I'd finish my set and it would be just the two of us in the bar." He explained, him too going off the idea of what else was there to lose now? "You didn't want me and it made it all the more enticing. To fight with the idea of hatred boarding on love was something intoxicating and it only made me want you more."
And, honestly, you were at a loss for words. It wasn't often many people spoke to you in such a poetic way, with such romance trickled into their words as it rolled right off the tongue like smooth butter. Most of the time, you were only met with drunk stragglers, boarding their words on sexual harassment. So this was only a breast of fresh air and you were indulging in it like it was some sort of drug.
When you looked back to Jaskier, you were at a loss for words. You weren't quite the lyricist he was. "I think-" You took a breath as if it were giving you the courage needed in that very moment. "I think I did want you. Oh, I know I did. But a bard who, as you said is always on the move, wasn't something I could get involved in." Like that, a weight slipped from your shoulders like melting ice.
Jaskier took a step forward, cautious in his action. When you showed no sign of disregard, he settled. "You've no idea what I would change just so you would get involved with me." There, his flirtatious smile return. And, this time, you couldn't resist it.
He started leaning in and rather than stopping it, so did you until your lips met in a soft embrace. It was long overdue and you could see how addicted you could get to that feeling if you weren't too careful. But a part of you had started to put trust into Jaskier - you just preyed the bard would never break it. As now, this was the start of something. Something neither of you wanted to ever end.
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sailorkamino · 9 months
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just imagining geralt in a poly relationship with jaskier and poet!reader,
"i love your hair, my dear witcher. it's like moonlight."
"yet his eyes are like sunlight."
"ooh write that down!"
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schleiereule-94 · 2 months
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A Bard and a Witcher – Part 1
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Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier x aFab!Reader
Summary: You were after some fun when you made your way to the inn this evening, and boy did you find it. Both the bard and his witcher friend are more than happy to satisfy your desire.
Warning(s): SMUT MINORS DNI, porn w/o much plot, fingering, penetrative sex (lots of it), unprotected p in v, threesome, dirty talk (both degrading and some praise, cursing), rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (both f and am receiving), she is not talking much but enjoys being used
Author’s Note: This is my first fic, so I hope it is up to standards... Not beta read and not an english native, so be kind if you find mistakes. I have a second part almost done (bc I am a horny mess for these two...).
You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into walking towards the inn this night. You were just looking for some distraction, some fun for a change. A good looking stranger, some beer and maybe even a dance. But now… 
You didn’t see the witcher in the corner at first. You sat at the bar listening and laughing at the bards’ songs. He was young, good looking. His name was Jaskier and he looked exactly like what you were after. You’ve thrown him some looks that made him almost stumbled over his words. 
“A short break to water my throat” he announced shortly after and he walked up to you at the bar, grinning sheepishly. “You’re funny” you complimented him. “And you look… breathtaking” he replied with a dramatic gesture, eyeing you up and down. He extended his hand to you “Jaskier is my name.” His gaze got stuck on your breasts. You smiled and leaned a bit more towards him to grant him a better look into your cleavage. “Y/n.” You moved to the side to make just enough space at the bar so he could squeeze in next to you.  “What brings you here bard?”, you asked as he took his place and grabbed a pint of beer from the barmaid. Your arm touched his lightly and you felt the warm feeling of excitation building up in you. “We’re on the way to Cintra.” “Cintra, hm. That’s a long trip. Who’s we?” you asked innocently.
He nodded over his shoulder to the darker part of the inn. Sitting there was a big, bulky figure, a grey hood over his head, long white hair spilling out from under it. You couldn’t make out the face clearly. When you squinted your eyes to see the stranger better he suddenly looked up and golden eyes stared directly into your soul. Your heart missed a beat and your breath hitched. The bard must have taken notice of your reaction as he let out a laugh. “That’s Geralt. Geralt of Rivia, I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”. Without taking your eyes off the man you nodded slightly. “Yes, yes I have heard of him.” The yellow pupils bore into you. A weird feeling bordering on fear stirred up in your chest. It made you want to run away. Your legs tensed, but you kept staring back captured by the tension in your connection. Slowly you felt how this tension sank down into your lower belly and straight between your legs. Your thighs were pressing together now to create some friction as your arousal grew quickly. You gasped and tore your head away to look at Jaskier. “You travel with Geralt of Rivia?”. You sounded more out of breath than you liked. But Jaskier didn’t seem to notice. “Yes. We share a wonderful journey and friendship” the bard stated proudly. You tilted your head and blinked, a picture being painted in your head. A filthy picture involving the bard, you and a witcher.  “Is that the only thing you two share?”, you asked quietly. The bard stared at you dumbfounded. You looked at him through your lashes. “You share a room here?”. “Yes, it’s cheaper. But why..? Oh, ah” Jaskier seemed to finally grasp what you were asking. “He would never interrupt, I’ll make sure of that.”, he said reassuringly. You caught his hand which was nervously fidgeting with a coin and used it to pull him even closer to you looking him deep in the eyes. “What if I want him to?” Jaskier stared back, swallowed dryly as he considered the idea.
It’s not like he had never thought of it. Sometimes he spied on Geralt when he was with a woman, listening to her moans, his ear pressed to the door of the room. Or trying to peak through the keyhole. He knew the effect Geralt had on women and was jealous of how easily they fell apart for him. Maybe having him there would make for a good learning experience. And if it was what he had to do to touch this beauty here… Slowly he leaned back on his chair, then cleared his throat. “Ehm, I ehm have not done.. I’ve never…” his look went to Geralt who’s eyes were fixed on you. “Your his friend, right? Surely you can convince him” You started drawing slow circles on his hand with your finger. You heard Jaskier breath in and out and felt how he shimmied in his seat, you weren’t sure if it was his nerves or signs of arousal. A look up at his face gave you an answer. His eyes sparkled with lust now. “So you are that kind of girl, hm? One man is not enough?” His voice had acquired a slight rasp and his gaze was now shamelessly fixed on your breasts. You grinned and shrugged “I just like to have fun. And you..” you grabbed his shirt to pull him close, pressed your lips on his surprised face and slightly bit at his lower lip before releasing him again “…look like you’d love some fun” you grinned. Jaskier’s face was flushed red and he looked breathless. Just how you liked your men, you thought with a wide smile. He stood up from his chair and leaned against you. You could feel his hard bulge through his pants pressing into your thigh. “Give me a moment”. You watched while the bard made his way to his witcher companion. He started whispering into his ear and Gerald’s gaze wandered back to you. His face did not show any indication of emotions, neither interest, nor lust nor rejection. You felt your cheeks redden under the scrutiny of the yellow eyes as your heart started to pump your blood faster. Geralt turned his head to Jaskier but you couldn’t see what kind of response he was giving his friend. You felt high or tipsy, even though you had barely drunk half a glass of beer.
Jaskier made his way through the crowd back to you. “Come with me, now” He took your hand and almost violently pulled you out of your seat and towards the stairs leading to the first floor. You looked back over your shoulders and saw Geralts eyes following you both with an unreadable expression on his face. You smiled at him while Jaskier dragged you up the stairs towards their room. From the corner of your eye you spotted the Witcher slowly getting up from his chair…
The door crashed shut behind Jaskier and he immediately started kissing you sloppily with his mouth wide open, tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You pressed yourself into him, kissing back fiercely. His hard cock pushing and pulsating into your lower belly. His hands were nestling with your dress, trying to pull down the sleeves. He finally succeeded on one side, pulling out your breast. Your nipple hardened immediately in the cool air. He turned you around and held you from behind with both arms, breathing hot air into your neck. “S’that what you wanted little whore? Hm?” Instead of giving an answer you ground your hips back into his hard-on. You felt how slick started to pool between your legs. Jaskier pinched your nipple between two fingers and made you moan. That same moment the door sprang open. Geralt filled the whole doorframe. Both you and Jaskier froze for a second. You looked up at him “Here to join?” you finally asked when none of you dared to move. The two men looked at each other for a few seconds before Geralt stepped into the room without a word and closed the door behind him. One more step and he stood just centimetres away from you. You could feel heat radiating off his body in waves. “How does she feel?” he asked Jaskier in a low growling voice. You felt a jolt of arousal moving down your spine when he finally looked at you. Jaskier had managed to get your other tit out. “She feels great, I mean, look at them” he grinned at his friend from behind you and groped and squeezed your boobs. “Was so eager to get both of us on her. I bet she is wet for us already. Can you help me out here and get her clothes off?” “She is wet like river”, Geralt stated while putting his hand on your hips. “I can smell it.r” With a hard tug your dress slipped over your body, fell to your knees and you were left in your soaking undergarments. One of Jaskiers hands immediately started travelling over your belly downwards leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Geralt brought his hand up under your chin to tilt your head up and you sank into the stare of his yellow eyes. “I could even smell you down there in the inn. Such a needy little whore”. His other hand grabbed your now free breast just as Jaskier’s slipped under your waistband.  A long finger plunged into your dripping wet pussy while Geralt’s calloused fingers brushed over your nipple. You moaned loudly and your hips started bucking all by themselves. Sandwiched between the two men you felt so turned on you couldn’t think straight anymore. Trying to get as much relief as possible you ground down on Jaskier’s finger. It was not enough. You needed more. Geralt grinned, reading your pained facial expression exactly right. “Give her one more, this whore wants to be stretched out properly” he instructed. Jaskier immediately complied. But even two of his delicate fingers did not go deep enough. You panted and bucked your hips against his hand inside of you. “Hm, let me help” Geralt pushed the underpants down to your knees before cupping your cunt and Jaskier’s hand on it. His huge hot palms easily engulfed both. You let your head fall back onto Jaskier’s shoulder breathing hard. Both men were looking at you intently while Geralt slowly added his finger to Jaskier’s into your pussy. You let out a groan as you felt it going deep and brushing at just the right spots. You could feel an orgasm building up. “Ah fuck” you muttered as the men started to pump into you. Their movements were not very coordinated and slow, but the feeling of both of them pushing your walls while fondling your breasts and Jaskier licking your earlobe was too much. You clenched down on the men’s fingers as your orgasm hit you. Your kneeds became wobbly and you fell back into Jaskier who let you both collapse onto the bed. 
The sudden loss of the fingers inside you made you hiss. Jaskier turned your head around and kissed you deeply, taking your breath away. Meanwhile, Gerald took a chair from under the table by the window and put it down in front of the bed. You felt limp in the afterglow of your orgasm, sinking into the sheets as Jaskier wriggled out under you. You watched him take off his boots and shirt, then his pants. Turning your head to the right you directly looked into Geralt’s devouring eyes. He sat in his chair, wide-legged and still fully dressed. His eyes scanned every millimetre of your body while he palmed himself over his pants. Your eyes went wide, that bulge looked really big. The witcher once again read your expression perfectly. “Jaskier will open you up. So you can take me like the good whore you are” he growled, adjusting himself in his pants. The arousal that had subsided a bit now slammed back into you, both at the witcher’s sight as well as Jaskier climbing back onto the bed. He was now fully naked, his cock standing erect in front of his body, dripping from the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight. The bard buried his head in your neck to bite at your shoulder. This sent a shiver down your spine and you arched your back up to meet his body. His stiff member pressed into your abdomen. “Please”, you whisper “please”. “Please what little lady?” Jaskier licked your ear. “You want to feel me inside you?” “Yes, please”, you pleaded, your cunt clenching around nothing. Jaskier sat up, straddling your belly, looking down at your face. His member laid hot and heavy on your belly, slowly leaking sticky precum on your skin. He spat in his hand and started pumping himself while you squirmed below him, trying to get some friction where you needed it most. His cock was not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but long and slightly curved upwards. You wanted to touch it. Picking up some precum from your belly you replaced Jaskiers hand to stroke his cock. He threw his head back with a loud moan. He reached behind himself to find your clit. Rubbing small circles, just as you had done on his hand earlier, he had you panting and writhing beneath him in no time. His chest was heaving and your fingers felt like ice and fire when they scratched lightly over his abdomen. There was no way he could wait any longer. He lowered himself onto you, sucking on one of your nipples and lined himself up, slightly nudging at your entrance. You squinted your eyes shut at the feeling. You needed this, so badly. You locked eyes with the bard when he finally slid into you, slowly but steadily until he hit your cervix at the very back. You both let out a cry of ectasis as he bottomed out. You gripped his shoulders while he slid all the way out, just to slam back in again. From there he buried his face on your side and started to buck his hips into you fervently. Rocking up and down, you glanced over to Geralt. He was still sitting in his chair watching the scene intently. But his hand was in his pants now, slowly stroking his still covered dick. “I want to see it” you mouthed at him, unable to form actual words as white heat pooled in your abdomen every time Jaskier hit that spot deep inside you. You watched, fingernails digging into Jaskier’s arched back, as Geralt unbuttoned his pants, slowly and unhurriedly, and his member sprang free. It was big. Big and fat with an enlarged red tip and clearly visible pulsating veins. You almost blacked out from that sight alone while Jaskier’s rapid rhythm and grunts started to send you over the edge again. 
You yelped at the sudden empty feeling and your orgasm died down, your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. You looked up at Jaskier now straddling you again with watery eyes. “Why?” you managed to stutter. “Wanna come into your mouth, whore” a sex-drunken Jaskier replied. “Slide down” He pushed you downwards towards the foot of the bed. Your calves dangling from the bed your face was now in front of Jaskier’s cock which had slipped between your breasts. With both hands you pushed your heavy breasts up to cover his member completely as he started to slide back and forth between them, lubed up by your juices. The angry red head, still slick from your juices, peaked out from your cleavage rhythmically and you stuck out your tongue to lick it. Jaskier gasped and pushed himself up even more. You opened your mouth to take him in. The angle was shallow but you blew your cheeks and sucked hard.  “Ah fuuck” Jaskier cried out quickening his pace once more. Another sound filling the room caught your attention and you saw Geralt slowly stroking himself from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on. But the tension from the orgasm you were just denied still lingered in your belly. You desperately needed some relief. You tried pressing your thighs together but that took you nowhere, everything being way to slippery from Jaskier’s and your fluids. You couldn’t speak with Jaskiers dick slipping in and out of your mouth so you started wining instead. Jaskier was way too absorbed watching his cock slide between your tits and disappearing into your mouth as to hear or care about your misery. But Geralt did.
You realized he had gotten up from his chair when he pulled at your feet to drag your ass way down to the edge of the bed. Jaskiers cock was now directly above your face and he was piercing it down your throat. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could without gagging. His moans became quicker and louder and it was clear he would not last much longer. You opened your eyes you had closed in shock when Geralt had moved you. In-between Jaskier’s thrusts you could just see the other man, nacked from his hips downwards, standing at the foot of the bed looking down on you. You opened your legs wide to give him a better view. A deep thrust of Jaskier brought tears to your eyes and left you gasping for air, so you didn’t see Geralt kneeling down onto the floor. He took in the sweet scent of your pussy, now so strong it overpowered even the fire burning in the corner. He had smelled it from the moment you had entered the inn. This beautiful woman, flirting both with him and his friend with not much more than looks. A pretty whore who could not get enough dick. He would need to show you what it meant to be properly satisfied. As much as you seemed to enjoy Jaskier, he knew that only he could give you what you really needed. Looking up at your face covered by his friends ass who was pushing into you, his cock jolted. It was such a dirty scene.  The sounds you made left him feeling dizzy from arousal. And your scent, god… he turned his attention back to your cunt, bringing his nose closer to breath it all in before putting his hands on your thighs. You felt him licking a long stripe over your slick covered hole all the way up to your sensitive bud, which made you jerk and groan into Jaskiers dick. The man over you now sounded desperate and you brought up your hand to massage his balls. That finally undid him. After a last brutal push down your throat you felt him tense up and he emptied himself into your mouth. You caught the warm liquid on your tongue and tried to swallow as much as you could. You almost choked on the cum when Geralt sucked your clit between his teeth. Jaskier collapsed onto the mattress next to you. You looked over a small string of semen ran down over your cheedk from the corner of your mouth. “God fuck, this woman is the death of me” the bard moaned, breathing heavily. Geralt laughed into your pussy which made you gasp. His big hands dug into your flesh as all your muscles tensed up in anticipation of another orgasm. You heard Geralt’s lapping sound as he drank up your juices, which should have been embarrassing, but only drove you closer to the edge. The moment his big finger entered you it was over. With a cry you arched your back, eyes only seeing white, your hands fisting the sheets for dear live. The witcher worked you through this one with his mouth slow powerful strokes of his finger, pitying you after your last release was denied. 
And here you are now, covered in a fine layer of sweat and semen looking down at the white wolf as he licks his fingers clean of your juices. He takes his shirt off over his head and throws it into a corner. Fully naked his figure is even more imposing. And his dick is so. big. Fuck, how are you going to take all this? The slight feeling of fear creeps back into your still heaving chest, mixing with the lingering arousal. “On your knees whore” the witcher commands with a low growl. You are already spent, not sure how to move. Jaskier is still laying a few inches next to you, watching and again toying with his flaccid dick. Apparently, you took too long to react. Big strong hands grip your midsection and you are thrown onto your belly. “On your knees” the witcher growls again. You scoot back onto your knees, all your legs and arms shaking, both from exhaustion and excitement. Geralt grabs your hips on both sides and pulls you backwards to the edge of the bed. A burning slap echoes through the room and you cry out as a hot sting covers your buttcheek. “You do as I say or you get punished” Geralt snarls. You take a look over your shoulder. The witcher towers over you, it’s both frightening and turning you on. “Yes sir”, you stutter frantically trying to hold yourself up on all fours. Your task gets easier as Geralt’s grip on your hips gets even stronger. “Such a beautiful pussy” he grunts “asking to be filled up”. You’re panting in anticipation. “Please”, you whisper. “Please what, whore? Use your words!” His yellow eyes are burning with lust now. “Please, please fuck me, Geralt, I need it so bad” you cry. “Not had enough yet, hm” His huge tip is prodding at your entrance, the stretch already sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You shake your head “not enough, sir.” “Hm, we better make sure to fill you up then” he says and finally starts pushing into you. You’re grateful he’s going slowly. Your walls burn as he steadily pushes in his thick girth splitting you in half. You hiss and he groans loudly. “Fuck, so tight. Such a perfect pussy. M’gonna ruin it for good” the witcher mutters, watching as his cock disappears into you. Mercifully he gives you a few seconds to adjust until you start circling your hips, grinding back into him. “Insatiable, that’s what you are, an insatiable whore” he says with a smirk on his face. He pushes in the last centimetre, his pelvis now flat against your ass. You can feel his heavy balls on the back if your thighs. “You want me to fuck you, whore?” All coherent thoughts have left your head as you sit there speared down on his dick. The only thing you manage is a quick nod and a pleading look over your shoulder. And that’s all that’s needed for Geralt to drop his last inhibitions. With a loud groan he snatches his hips backwards to push into you again full force. You cry out and land on your elbows while your hips are held up by Geralt’s strong arms. He thrusts into you again and again and you see stars. “That what you wanted, hm? More dick? Does this fill you up completely now?” His pace is relentless, your walls being literally attacked every time he buries his cock in you. Your mouth is agape, shouting loudly every time he enters you, violently hitting your cervix. “Yes” you cry, “So good. Please. Need. To cum.” Your vision blacks out. You feel how Jaskier fondles your hanging breasts while every thrust catapults you nearer to heaven. “Yes, come on my cock, let me see how good it feels to be finally satisfied” Geralt groans and with a loud, long shout of his name you come.
The witcher doesn’t stop. He fucks you right through your high, his eyes squinting from pleasure as you get even tighter clenching his dick, trying to milk his semen from him. But he’s not done with you yet. As you come to your senses you are once more picked up and thrown onto your back this time. Geralt is above you, his white hair falling into your face as you are gasping for air like dr owning person. His hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing it with his thumb. You almost jump at the feeling, being way too overstimulated. You try to writhe out below him but his huge body is keeping you in place. Your eyes fill with tears, you can’t take it, you shake your head. “So you finally had enough?” Geralt asks but he doesn’t wait for you to answer but pushes back into you hard, making you gasp. You feel sore, your body too tired to do anything else than lie there. You cling onto the sheets while your breasts are rocking up and down with his rhythm. You hear a moan and watch how Jaskier is stroking himself feverishly next to you. The veins on his arms are standing out, from how hard he is fisting his dick, his face contorted into a grimace of pleasure. He bucks his hips and cries out while a short spurt of cum shoots out of him. It’s all he has left after you milked him with your mouth. His dick feels like it’s burning, and he palms it lightly, coming down from his high, watching how Geralt thrusts into you at a punishing pace, making the bed move in jolts. Slowly he gets up to heat some water over the fire.
“Look at me”. Geralt yanks your head back forward to face him. He sits up and puts your legs on his shoulder. “I’m going to finish you. Until you can’t think anymore.” He pulls you towards him violently, his cock once again taking up all of you. Your eyes roll back into your head. Your mouth is wide open but can’t make any sounds anymore. The new angle is even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible, and you feel like your soul is being ripped from your body. You can see yourself from above being devoured by the witcher, your sounds reduced to a weak whimpering. Geralt leans forward, folding you in half. You feel so small under him, like his toy. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass, tensing up. He’s almost there. His rhythm gets more choppy while he’s chasing his release. Looking down on your body he sees the outline of his cock on your stomach every time he fills you up. “So. Fucking. Good. You take me so good, such a good whore” he mutters, his hand pressing down on your belly, felling himself pushing in and out of you. The pressure is way too much. With an animalistic cry that doesn’t seem to end and only faintly sounds like “Geralt” your body convulses. Every single muscle in you twitches, your walls strangling the witchers cock, asking it to finally release its seed. One, two thrusts more and Geralt finally starts to come apart, eyes closed, shooting white ropes into you, painting your walls. You gasp, hands clenched around his wrists as you feel him twitch inside you for what feels like an eternity. Then he collapses on top of you, taking your breath away. You try to move him, but your arms are void of any strength. His warm cum is slowly dripping out of you as his dick softens inside you. 
Geralt moves and you frantically gasp for air. He moves his hair out of his face, looks down on you and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Well done kid” he says warmly stroking your sweaty forehead. Jaskier strides over, halfway dressed already and hands him a warm wet cloth with which he starts to clean you up carefully. You feel a wide smile stuck onto your face while the warmth of the bed and Geralt’s hands on you lull you to sleep. You feel the two men tuck you in and arms that embrace you in a hug before you pass out completely.
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Batter and Bard
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Characters: Jaskier, Reader, Geralt (all platonic)
Warnings: None.
Inspiration: Season 2
Summary: You were busy at Kaer Morhen until a certain Bard announced his entrance.
You were thankful that the Witchers let you have free rein over their kitchens in Kaer Morhen. It was the only place where you could be left alone - that was, until the mountain lair began to fill with more familiar faces and voices.
One of whom was a bard with an angelic singing voice and a knack to talk your ear off.
“And then the Countess De Stael just disappears in the morn without me.” Jaskier recounted as he followed you around the open space while you were very clearly busy. Stopping briefly at the centre stone table, he leaned forward on his elbows and sighed dramatically. “Am I not enough for her to leave the troubadour of Cidaris? Am I not worthy of love?”
You were trying to focus on the mixture in your hand and the measurements of the lavender extract but the constantly chatty bard was making it difficult.
“Uh-huh - sure, you are.” You answered quickly.
“I am what? I am not enough for her or I am not worthy of love?”
Looking into the measuring apparatus, you glanced at Jaskier not having heard him. “What?”
Jaskier tapped his hands on the table, “Okay, you’re clearly not paying attention.” He noted and reached across to the bottles of assorted liquids.
“Lavender, chamomile, tulip - is there any wild yellow rose? The Countess De Stael loves wild yellow roses especially the ones from-“
“Jaskier.” You said firmly, tone capturing the bards bright eyes instantly. “I am trying to win a bet against Lambert and you’re not doing me any favours.”
Geralt walked into the area to fetch himself something small, his nose catching the wonderful aroma. “Mm...”
“Not now Witcher!” You snapped and Geralt instantly slowed his pace, frowning at the tone that had been given.
“I didn’t...?” he began to say and noticed that the Bard was present, silently wondering if he had helped push you into the rage.
Jaskier felt the stare burning into his skull and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t blame the bard. You’re all lucky to have me.”
Masterlist here
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redskull199987 · 9 months
Text
Of Thoughts and Actions
Jaskier x fem!reader  word count:0.9k Warnings:spoilers for season 3, apart from that just fluff Summary: You didn't see your friend Jaskier for a long time, since he split up from your group after the events at Kaer Morhen. So, when Geralt suggested that you ask the bard for help, you were more than happy to see your singing friend again… Masterlist
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You watched the scene in front of you unfold with a smile on your face. Jaskier´s sweet voice was slowly lulling Ciri to sleep, after you had spent the evening playing cards against each other. Jaskier, of course, had lost all of his money to the young girl. Finally seeing her smiling again, having fun again, after all she's been through lately, made you feel like it was still worth fighting for. For Ciri, and her future. “What are you thinking about?”
Your head shot up, as Jaskier suddenly stood in front of you, his slender frame towering above you. “Just thinking about our journey so far”, You mumbled, as you slowly stood up, starting to gather the plates at cups from the small table you had been playing cards at, until a few minutes ago. “Anything in particular?”, Jaskier smiled, as he helped you clean up, picking up a plate. “Oh, maybe the one time, Geralt and I saved your ass?”, you chuckled, playfully hitting his arm. Jaskier mockingly opened his mouth, acting like he was utterly shocked by your words.
“Fine then”, he mumbled, stepping closer to me,”Remember when I taught you how to dance, that one particular evening where you had too much ale?”
You felt your cheeks redden, as you remembered how much of a fool you had made yourself. even Geralt had laughed at your sloppy dance moves, and Geralt never laughed, ever.
Jaskier had seemed to notice your discomfort and slowly stepped closer. He looked down at you for a second, before carefully grabbing your hands. “You know, I always thought you were the most beautiful Dancer, I had ever seen in my life.”, he smiled, causing you to blush even more. Since when were you so easily flushed? You were a great fighter, that had been through many battles along with your companions. But  now you were a blushing mess in front of the smiling bard. When you didn't say anything in return, Jaskier just continued to recount the story:”Not because you were the best at dancing or the most experienced, but because you enjoyed yourself. You were having fun to no end, just being yourself. That's what I´ve always loved about you, Y/N.” You were speechless at this point. You always knew that what you felt for Jaskier was different than what you felt for Yennefer or Geralt. It was more than friendship. But you never believed that he was feeling the same way, in fact you still didn't believe it. 
Against all your better judgement, you slowly pulled your hands away from Jaskier and excused yourself, saying that you needed some fresh air. And within seconds, you had left the small hut, stepping out into the night. 
Taking in a deep breath, you looked up admiring the stars that glistened in the sky. Upon seeing your breath come out in small huffs, you realised how cold it was. You slowly started walking around a bit to conjure some warmth, but it had no effort. After two laps around the hutt, you were still shivering. You debated going back inside for a second, but you didn't quite know if you were ready to talk to Jaskier again. 
The decision was made for you, as you felt how Jaskier´s coat was being wrapped around you. The purple material easily engulfed your form, preventing you from shivering. You turned your head to see said bard standing behind you, one of his hands was resting on the small of your back, as he wrapped the coat further around your form. “Thank you.”, you mumbled, looking back down. “You seemed cold”, he smiled, now stepping in front of you. His hands came up to adjust the collar around you. You felt his touch linger, as his bright eyes shifted towards your face. “Y/N”, he suddenly said. His hand rose to gently caress your cheek. Slowly leaning into his touch, you listened to his shallow breathing to calm yourself down.
“Jaskier.”, you finally said, looking up at him. He only sighed, seemingly not really knowing what to say:”I-I havent been honest with you,Y/N” “About what?”, you uttered quietly. He didn't say anything for a second, just staring at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“I really want to kiss you.”, he suddenly blurted out. You only smiled at him:”then do it.”
It only took Jaskier mere seconds to press his lips to yours. You felt his hands pulling you closer by the waist, as he deepened the kiss, his lips softly working against yours. Only as you parted, you actually realised what had just happened. Yours eyes widened, as you looked at his dreamy face. “I've wanted to do that for ages”, he admitted. A smile crossed your lips at his words:”I´m glad that you finally did.” “Oh I could kiss you again a thousand times, my love”, he chuckled, slightly squeezing your waist. “I wouldn't have a problem with that”, you whispered, before connecting your lips with his once more. Bonus: Ciri´s eyes slowly fluttered open, as the soft sunlight hit her face. Upon sitting up in her bed, she started to look around the room in search for her two friends. She expected them to be in their separate beds, still sleeping but Ciri couldn't help but to smile at what she saw in front of her. Right there, just a few metres away from her, you and Jaskier were huddled up together in the tiny bed. She could barely see your smaller form, as Jaskier was laying on top of you, his head resting on your chest. “I knew it”, she mumbled to herself, before slowly getting up to get ready for the day.
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sweetpeapod · 1 year
Text
Flirting (Wasn't Flirting)
My first Jaskier x Reader 🥺 I hope you like it! Title from Wild Blue Yonder by The Amazing Devil.
Warnings: smut 18+ minors DNI, teasing, gn!reader, enemies to lovers (kind of? begrudging friends to lovers?), kidnapped Jaskier, tied up Jaskier, blowjobs, no orgasm, kind of mean reader, dubcon elements, no explicit consent but he's into it.
all masterlists - | - AO3 link
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"You took your bloody time." Jaskier huffs. His voice as melodic as it was annoying. Nothing out of the ordinary there. 
You ignore the bard in favor of wiping the crimson blood from your blade, his captors laying deathly still on the ground outside.
Jaskier had meant to stay behind at the camp while you & Geralt dealt with a rather nasty group of drowners nearby. But of course, when had the bard ever listened to either of you?
Geralt had tasked you with dealing with the trouble magnet that is Jaskier. And it didn't take long to find him. Considering his captors were after information regarding the Witcher, they didn't bother to cover their tracks very well, if at all.
"Aren't we forgetting something?" Jaskier's voice cuts through the silence of the dingy ruins. "It's a bit rude is all I'm saying, leaving a man in my condition, tied to a particularly uncomfortable chair."
"Do you ever shut up?" You groan as you stalk towards him, eyes focused on his bound wrists & ankles. "I'm surprised they didn't gag you."
"And what, may I ask, crawled up your exceptionally lovely bottom & died?" The smirk on his face has you biting back some rather uncouth words as his eyes drop dramatically to the curve of your ass. 
But it does give way to an idea.
A bad idea.
A very bad, very tempting idea.
A sure fire way to make him shut that pretty mouth, or at least have it sing a rather more alluring song.
It's not like you haven't thought about it before. What it would be like to swallow his words, forcing his silence with your own lips on his ridiculously soft looking ones.
And truly, how did anyone, travelling the Path as they have been, have any right to have lips that deliously soft looking.
"Hello? Are you ignoring me now? Well- well that's just a tad childish, don't you think? I have been tortured within an inch of my life." You raise an eyebrow, making a show of looking over his barely scathed body, "Fine, but it was extremely traumatic I'll have you know." Jaskier huffs, a small pout making its way onto those tempting lips.
You say nothing as you close the distance between yourself and the bard. Only pausing for a second to really think before slowly, purposefully, dropping to your knees in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Jaskier struggles in his binds, pulling uselessly at the rope, not quite trusting the smirk that now plays on your lips.
You watch his questioning eyes as they drop to the knife, still safely secured against your hip. 
And he gulps heavily, those bright blue's falling onto your face as your fingers ignore the blade entirely. Instead walking a soft path up his thighs. They trail higher and higher until the bard's voice comes out at an unnaturally high octave.
"Aren't-" He jolts when your palm ghosts over the crotch of his trousers, "Ah-aren't you going to untie me?"
You can't help but feel the pride that sits in your chest as you hear the slight breathlessness in his words, over such a small touch nonetheless. 
"Where's the fun in that?"
You make short work of the ties that keep him contained within his trousers, unlacing them with a softer touch than you think you've ever used with him. Your lips part, allowing a barely there laugh to escape as you feel his stirring prink twitch against your wrist.
"Are you- wh-what are you doing?" Jaskier's breath hitches, leaving him to stutter on his questions as you tease your calloused fingers over his bare flesh, the muscle hardening under your touch.
It's flushed pink and red when you finally expose him to the cold air of the abandoned ruins. The sight has you salivating, watching a pearl of precum bead at the tip of his weeping slit as he continues to grow in your hand.
You glance up at him, lips parted merely a breath away from his aching cock. But you don't move. You simply watch him, your fingers clenched around the base of his throbbing prick as you search for any sign that he might not want this, might not want you.
But all he does is whimper. Hips trying helplessly to rut up towards your waiting mouth. And it's enough to have your tongue flick over the slit, a salty headiness blooming on your taste buds that has your body thrumming, thighs clenching together.
"Shit." Jaskier whines above you. "Okay, yes, that's- ah, keep doing that." He continues talking, even as you wrap your lips tightly around him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking, teasingly, on the senstive head of his aching cock.
You pull off with a deafening 'pop'. A trail of spit keeping you connected. That image alone has him almost begging you not to stop.
"Stop talking, Jaskier." You wait until he nods, still staring at you in disbelief as you run your tongue from head to base, swirling around the throbbing muscle.
The only sounds that echo throughout the ruins are his quiet, restrained groans and the wet slide of your mouth on his pretty cock.
It doesn't take long to feel the thick vein on the underside of his prick begin to pulse, not when you take his heavy balls in your hand, tugging gently on the sensitive sack in a way that has the bard keening above you.
You run your tongue along the vein, letting yourself suckle on the flushed head for just a moment longer before releasing him from your mouth.
You almost feel bad, watching as it pulses pathetically, so close to release yet not quite close enough. The angry red tip almost tempting you back in.
Jaskier stares at you, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration. You smile up at him from between his legs, lip caught between your teeth.
"Wha-" His question hangs unfinished in the air as you cut the ropes that bind him.
"Next time, you'll listen to us when we tell you to stay put, hm?"
He opens and closes his mouth, as if he wants to argue. His cheeks are flushed, sweat beading on his forehead. You like him like this, you think, lost for words.
"Are you coming, flower?" You taunt as you stand, walking out the broken down building with an extra bounce to your step. You leave your bard to tuck his needy cock away, listening for him to come trailing after you.
"That's- Wait, that's not fair!"
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