#check fucking mate geralt

[thelostgirl21]

Congratulations on these two for the smoothest lute exchange in TV history...

Because I literally can't tell you at what point exactly it managed to change hands.

I had to return and watch the scene, just to go check if we could catch a glimpse of Jaskier holding his lute while talking with Yarpen after his meeting with Radovid (spoilers alert: we can, but it's easy to miss), because I was mentally going "Wait. Do we ever see Radovid handing Jaskier his lute back, or did he just... put it down against one of his legs while the camera switched to Philippa, for Jaskier to pick up later?"

1.Like ok, so the last time we see Radovid holding the lute in that scene, it's in his left hand, and he takes a few steps closer to Jaskier to express how he'd love for him to become his bard and suggest he should totally move in with him already so they can start a new life together talk while momentarily excluding Philippa from the conversation.

2. Jaskier tries to resist the puppy dog eyes play it cool remembering how he attempted to start living with Geralt and offered to become his bard as soon as he started squishing on him; and how, although things eventually did work out between them (and they now have this whole queerplatonic family dynamic going on), maybe he wouldn't have gotten so brokenhearted if he'd taken things with him a bit slower? And adjusted his expectations in accordance with what Geralt was willing or able to offer back then, maybe?, and pretend he's totally not intrigued and aroused by the offer.

3. Radovid steps in even closer to make sure he has all of Jaskier's attention, while attempting to convince him that he would gladly let him tie him up and explore whatever kink he might have one can find plenty of ways to make life at court fun and exciting.

4. Philippa decides to play chaperone, because she's never taken Radovid outside for a walk on her own before, is not 100% sure if the prince has been trained to properly behave in public when he's not at court, knows Jaskier has literally no shame, and she'd rather get between these two now before they are given any opportunity to start making out and humping each other right in the middle of the fucking town's square! to step in closer to issue a few threats, for good measure.

5. Jaskier briefly looks like he's trying to sniff her finds the interruption quite rude and intimidating, yet stands his ground as he is unwilling to let her force him to back away from his prospective mate.

6. Philippa and Radovid , whose brain was so busy making out the shape of Jaskier's body through the very thin fabric of his shirt, that he only took from that whole conversation that he and Jaskier are having a date in five days, take their leave.

7. Jaskier is left trying to catch his breath while dealing with an awkward boner as he watches the prince leave leave, only to be interrupted by Yarpen Zigrin that has apparently just been standing there, silently watching the very rare and fascinating courtship display between a wild bard and a domestic prince...

8. Aaand, as Jaskier turns to greet him, we can catch a brief glimpse of the lute's pegbox that Jaskier seems to now be holding in his right hand. And Yarpen's puzzled, slightly traumatized expression, pondering what on Earth he's just witnessed, and how that complete pansexual disaster of a bard still manages to get laid so often.

Therefore, we can assume that the lute moved from Radovid's left hand to Jaskier's right hand anywhere in between 3 and 4...

But, with the way these two were so engrossed in each other by the time they got close enough to make the exchange, I'm trying to figure out how that went...

Like, try approaching your crush having this very intense conversation with them while continuously holding their gaze...

...and, at the same time, attempt signaling to them that you wish to give them back the object that you are holding, without any of you two looking down to see where the object or the other person's hand is.

There is visually and verbally a complete lack of acknowledgement that anything else is happening between them in that scene! It's uncanny!

Like if I'd been in Radovid's place, I'd probably have been awkwardly bumping the lute against Jaskier's right arm or leg while trying to figure out where his hand actually is; and then waiting to feel a little tug on it to make sure he's holding it securely before letting it go.

If I'd been in Jaskier's place, I'd probably have been trying to make physical contact with any recognizable part of the lute and then followed a path to its neck. Or, if I was feeling particularly bold, touched Radovid's arm and then caressed it all the way down to his hand to go place mine above or below the place where he's holding the lute's neck.

There would have been some slightly noticeable fumbling around involved, one way or another, at the very least.

But somehow, nothing could break the very sustained, sharp, and constant sexual tension focus between them while they were eye fucking each other talking and Radovid managed to give Jaskier back his lute.

These two can go from the awkwardest and most dissynchronized

to the smoothest and most seamless social interactions in a matter of seconds, I swear!

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.20

Stephanie sighed again in boredom, kicking her legs as she sat on the examination table in the sterile white room that resembled every other examination room she's been in. They didn't let all five of them to be in the room with her so only Geralt was leaning against the wall, arms folding over his chest. He worked for the Council, the others didn't, so she supposed they trusted him to not do anything shady. Although she did catch a couple surprised, even fearful, looks in August's direction as they had walked inside the nondescript high rise downtown. Something she would ask him about later, if she remembered.

“We request your presence,” She said, mimicking Solo's voice and making Geralt perk a small smile, “But we're going to have your strip down to your smalls, put on a paper thin gown, and sit in a cold room for fucking forever.”

“Don't know what they expect to find.” Geralt said.

“I'm going to pop negative on a test. Every time I go for a check-up since you guys went public, they've tested me for lycanthropy along with other routine things and it came back negative every time.” She said, “And it's a feeling you guys have, not exactly something you can find a scan. Unless they hooked diodes to your head or something and had you gaze longingly into my eyes again.” He snorted at that.

“They're probably listening.” He said, “Don't give them ideas.”

“Come here.” She said, opening her arms and he arched a brow at her, pushing away from the wall. “I'm cold and you're a space heater. Get over here and cuddle me.” He snorted again, walking over to her and standing in front of her on the exam table, wrapping her in his arms and holding her against his chest.

“You are cold.” He remarked and she hummed happily as she sank into him.

“Warm.” She said wistfully and he smiled, pressing his lips to her hair as his hands moved over her back. “I'm worried.”

“About this?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head, “We haven't heard or seen anything of Jordan in a while and I—I want to believe that he's gone, that he gave up, but I don't...”

“I've felt him.” Geralt said, “Well, I've felt a Feral when I walk the territory at night. He hasn't tried anything and I haven't seen him, but he's there.”

“I don't like that.” She said, “That he's hiding out in the woods like some bogeyman, waiting for an opportunity.”

“He's never going to hurt you,” Geralt said, his arms tightening just a little bit. “Ever again.”

“Are you alone when you walk around at night?” She asked and he nodded against her hair. “Well, that's going to stop. Take one of the others with you. Buddy system, Mister.”

“I don't—”

“Geralt, for my peace of mind,” She said, “Take one of the others with you.”

“You're not going to ask me to stop altogether?”

“Would you if I did?”

“No.”

“So I'm not going to ask.” Stephanie said, “It may be Sy's territory on paper, but it's all of yours in truth. Also, please don't tell me you unzip on trees while you're doing your walk around.” He was quiet. “Oh sweet Jesus.”

“I don't always patrol on two legs.” He said in his defense and she thumped her forehead against his chest a few times in exasperation. The door to the room cracked open and he pulled away so they could look over at it.

“Is it safe to come in?” Asked the gentle female voice.

“Come on in.” Stephanie said and the door opened wider, the woman wearing a white physicians coat over mint green scrubs walking into the room.

“They told me your Mate was in here with you, and the last time I didn't ask when Mates were together, I walked in on them in flagrante delicto. Better safe than sorry.” She explained briefly, “Ms. Daniels, I'm Dr. Evelyn Mercer with the Pack Council, and this must be Geralt Rivian?” He nodded, “How are you both today?”

“Kinda wondering what you all expect to find, actually.” Stephanie said.

“Same, actually.” She admitted, “I've looked over your medical records and I contacted your GP to get current records and there are no biological signs of lycanthropy, but now that I'm in the same room as you, I can understand why they wanted me to check.”

“I don't feel entirely human, apparently.” She said with a shrug.

“We can't feel humans, exactly, they don't feel like anything in the same way that another person would feel like to you. It's more you don't feel entirely like a wolf. It's there, albeit faintly.”

“Sy said I have the “idea” of a wolf inside me.” Stephanie said and the doctor shrugged.

“Sounds about right.” She said, “Have you noticed any differences in the way other wolves acted around you after your accident versus before?”

“You guys weren't out when I had my accident so I wouldn't know who was a wolf and who wasn't.” She said, “But now that you mention it...”

“Steph?” Geralt asked.

“There was a jock asshole who used to make my life a living hell in high school, my entire friend group actually, a real walking cliche. We were kind of the social outcasts, didn't really fit in with the other groups, even though I was on the school rugby team. One day, a couple weeks after I got back, he was picking on the freshman in our group, being a raging douchebag, pushing him around. I got in his face and told him to back off. He looked like he was going to start in on me too, wouldn't have been the first time, but he suddenly backed down and apologized. He avoided us after that, wouldn't even look at us, or me.” Stephanie said.

“Dollars to doughnuts he was a wolf.” The doctor said, “He felt your “idea” of a wolf and it outranked his.”

“We have a theory that she'd be a female Alpha.” Geralt said.

“Multiple Mates, makes sense.”

“She claimed our Beta as her own.” Geralt said.

“She was able to do that?” Evelyn asked, her brows jumping in surprise.

“That's what Mike, the Beta, told me.” Stephanie said.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?” Evelyn asked and Stephanie shrugged.

“Fine by me.”

[confessionbrain-writings]

Check, please? - Henry Cavill (Grand Suite part one)

Summary: You work with your bestie at a bar when you spot Henry drinking with his mates. Both of you are a fan of him and his work, you quickly share your thoughts about him. What you didn’t know was that he overheard you…

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warnings:  Swearing, maybe implied smut? Furthermore none

Word count: approx. 1,6k

A/N: Hi there babes. I wanted to try to write something shorter than I did so far so here this one goes. English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. Feedback is very welcome! [update nov 15th | due the asks, comments and love this is now turned into a miniseries and can be read here]

“No you didn’t! You are fucking lying you bitch!” You half whispered half shouted at Jenny, her eyes so wide and big you could see the whites around her irises. She squeezed your hands again which she held in a tight grip. 

“I shit you not and swear it on my most expensive vibrator. Henry fucking Cavill is drinking out there with his mates!” She hissed and glanced over her shoulder and you followed her gaze. Holy mother of shit balls.

The handsome man with his godlike body, sharp jawline and bright sky-blue eyes, who you’ve been fantasizing about since seeing him at first in The Witcher (after that in loads of movies) and had now enveloped this massive crush on, was indeed drinking with his mates at the table in the corner of the pub where you and Jenny worked.

As you gaped at him you squeezed your co-workers hands back and squealed with your mouth closed so the customers at the bar couldn’t hear your little freaking-out-fan-girl moment. 

“Okay Jojo, keep it together,” she breathed as you straightened your back, “he’s just a normal person, just like us, just out drinking with his mates.” You narrowed your eyes and nodded as she brushed her hands down on her thighs.

“Yeah duh, totally fine. It’s just a person who also happens to be Geralt of Rivia, Walter Marshall, Captain Syverson, August Walter and all the other cuntpuddling characters!” You hissed and Jenny snorted loudly at your statement and you shook your head. “Keep telling that yourself Jen, but I’ll definitely be having trouble to keep my mind sane.”

—

It was a crowded evening which thankfully took your mind off from wondering and fantasizing about the handsome man too much. The brief moments you could glance his way you saw him sipping his drink and having conversations with his friends which were joyful as you could tell by his smiles and gleaming eyes. Even when you had turned your back at him while preparing an order you could hear his bright, broad laughter rumble all the way across the bar which gave you goosebumps.

Jenny coming around the bar to bring in the empty glasses or to retrieve your prepared orders kept lingering a few moments so you could have a small chat and exchange both of your thoughts and fantasies. 

“Oh but what about that moment Geralt was in the brothel and fucked that woman for three days straight!” Jenny whispered and you nodded at her, recalling the image of him as Geralt, laying in that bed all greasy and sweaty and only covered by a thin sheet. 

While drying a wine glass in your hand you replied, “Oh how I wish I was that woman…” 

She shook her head and sighed. “I know right! Imagine all the things he would do with you and that for three whole fucking days.”

“What about the bathtub scene in Superman? If he would do that to me the bath would only be filled half with water and the other with my arousal,” you smirked as you filled another tray with drinks for Jenny to serve.

“Ha my God, Joanne you filthy, thirsty bitch,” Jenny playfully smacked your arm while she returned your smirk. 

“Let’s not forget the August arm pumps in Mission Impossible tho,” she said and you gasped as you turned your back at her to fill two glasses of wine.

“Ah shit, yeah. That was hot. Talking about arms, that video of him putting that pc together. My. My. I would definitely walk around with a pc logo on me so he could take me apart!”

You half turned to place the glasses of wine onto the tray when you saw that Jenny’s eyes went wide, her brows rose as she bit her lip, trying to hide her smile as she glanced behind you. Your brows furrowed at her expression and then felt the blood drain from your face as you felt someone’s presence behind you.

Oh no. Please don’t tell me -

“Uh hi, can I have the check, please?” You knew that voice. You’ve heard it so many times by now that you could’ve dreamed it. You whirled around so fast your head spun for a moment and there he was. Shit. You were sure that he had heard the two of you talk or at least what you said about allowing him to take you apart…

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even think. “Oh fuck me…”

He raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms over his broad chest as you quickly cleared your throat. 

“Hi! Yeah of course!” Your voice suddenly two octaves higher and from the corner of your eyes you could see Jenny quickly making her way back into the bar with the tray of drinks, leaving you alone to handle with this awkward situation, the bitch.

Handing him the check you tried to keep your breath steady as your heart hammered in your chest and took him in. You knew that he was tall and big, but standing now so close towering over you as he scribbled his signature on the check made your insides turn into liquid. The denim shirt hugged his body in all the right places, bracing his muscular biceps and showing a bit of his curly-haired-covered chest due the unbuttoned top. 

He cleared his throat which made you snap up your gaze and realized he caught you staring. Great.. fucking great. First he overheard you and now caught you drooling over him, way to go Joanne..

He put the pen down and shoved one hand into his pocket. You crinkled your nose while holding your breath as you could feel the heath scorch back, flushing your cheeks. 

“Look I don’t know what you exactly heard but I’m really sorry about what I said, that was not appropriate.”

A chuckle escaped his mouth as he eyed you down. “Don’t worry about it…” he cocked his head, waiting for your response.

“Joanne,” you answered.

“…Joanne,” he parroted and just stared. “You’re cute. I’ll take it as a compliment.” You swallowed and smiled at him and felt the creeping awkwardness ease from your stomach.

“Good, you should because it is a compliment, even when it was… kind of inappropriate.” 

The familiar rumble of his laugh reached your ears and you had to suppress a shudder from running down your spine. 

He returned your smile and shoved the check your way and as you reached out for it to pull it towards you he halted your movement by placing his hand over yours and stared at you.

You almost yelped at the feeling of his warm, big hand covering yours and the intensity of his stare. The stare of Henry fucking Cavill, you couldn’t believe it. He was standing right there, right before you, his hand covering yours. Heart pounding aggressively in your chest, adrenaline pumping through your veins, heat coiling in your stomach as you stared right back. You were already impressed by him by just seeing him on a screen but having him standing so close in real life, touching you, you froze like a deer in headlights.

His oh so handsome lip curled up as he leaned forward. Hypnotized by him you mirrored his action and watched him. 

“You know, speaking of inappropriate, I would love to take up on your offer…” His deep voice now only just above a whisper so only you could hear it. The hairs in your neck stood right up and you felt like your heart would jump right out of your chest. Offer? What offer did he—

He saw your questionable face and tapped the check. “Just let me know,” he winked at you and went back to his friends who were already at the door waiting for him. 

Your eyes were glued to him, still frozen onto the spot while your mind tried to keep up with what happened. Just before he left he glanced over his shoulder, smirked and winked again just before he stepped over the threshold.

The tightness in your chest eased as you released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and wiped your forehead.

What the fuck did just happen?! Did it happen? Were you dreaming? Still a bit shocked you looked down at the check to find out he wrote something beside his signature.

You had to be fucking kidding me right now. Scribbled next to his signature was the name of the hotel around the corner and a number which you guessed was the number of his room. Eyes widening your hand flew to your chest as your offer chimed in your head.

I would definitely walk around with a pc logo on me so he could take me apart.

Jenny walked- well more likely almost ran - back to the bar and slammed the empty tray onto the bar. “Girl!” She breathed and took in your shocked face.

“Oh my God, what did he say? Are you okay? You look..”

“I think he invited me to his room,” you interrupted and looked at the check beneath your hand. 

“WHAT!” She bursted out and quickly covered her mouth and apologized to the people around. 

“No way! You’re going?” Her eyes were just as wide as they were when she announced that she spotted him.

Still a bit shocked you shook your head and stared back, “I… I don’t know?”

“Oh Jojo, I’m sorry, that sounded like a question. You’re going.”

For a split second you just stared at each other in silence and then a broad smile appeared on both of your faces, words sinking in. 

“Oh fuck yeah, I’m going."

A/N 2: follow up can be read right here 👉 Consequences🔥 [update nov 15th | due the asks, comments and love this is now turned into a miniseries and can be read here]

[whimsicalmeerkat]

First & Last Lines

I did this a million years ago. I just got reminded of it and thought it would be fun to do again. Basically, post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted. WIPs are welcome. Not going with any sort of strict rules, because that’s just not how I roll. Anyway, here goes!

1. hope for the future, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale

First: As Derek flew back from his uncle's punch, he wondered just how he hadn't realized sooner that Peter was the alpha—that he was his alpha.

Last: He couldn't say he'd ever be be content with the past or that he was happy in the present, but for the first time in years he had hope for the future, and maybe that would be enough.

2. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Teen Wolf, multiple pairings

First: Derek leans his head back so he can stare at the star-studded tree canopy overhead and thinks, not for the first time, that he will never get tired of seeing Stiles’ magic.

Last: “Easy for you and Derek to say—you were both born like this and you took away my chance to get out of this life,” Scott rages back, the arrows hitting Stiles in his soft parts just like they have every time he’s hurled them over the years since Stiles got him turned into a werewolf.

3. 3 Sentence Ficathon 2024: Chosen One, macy blake’s chosen one universe, multiple pairings

First: “I just feels it lacks a certain gravitas,” Eduard says, tugging at the hem of the denim jacket he considers so ugly he wonders if some of his mates are pulling a prank on him until he turns around and sees all eight of them staring at him in a distinctly horny fashion.

Last: “Fucking lions—you’re lucky I love you.”

4. with lightning in his hands, teen wolf, derek hale/peter hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles stares at the ruins of the Hale house and reflects that he perhaps should have taken Deaton more seriously when he told him starting to practice magic would change how he saw the world.

Last: All they have to do is wait for him to come.

5. time travel, teen wolf, derek hale/laura hale

First: Derek bursts through the door of his little apartment in New York City, yelling for his sister.

Last: "It all started in seven days from now for you and five years ago for me."

6. telepathy, black jewels, daemon sadi/lucivar yaslana

First: She’s not trustworthy.

Last: They exited the room without opposition, knowing their point was made and would not be forgotten.

7. dusk, the witcher, emhry var emreis/geralt of rivia

First: Geralt stands on the balcony outside of Emhyr’s rooms and watches the day fade into dusk

Last: Geralt could get used to having a family.

8. Trading Up, teen wolf, derek hale/stiles stilinski

First: Stiles and his (maybe?) girlfriend are walking down Main Street after dinner, holding hands and looking in the shop windows

Last: “Damnit, I need to see if I have to do actual work. While I’m checking my email, you should try to guess why Lydia didn’t turn into a werewolf. You’ll never get it, but it will entertain you while you wait,” Stiles tells Derek, then turns his attention to his laptop.

9. candy, macy blake’s chosen one universe, victor eastaughffe/orsen riggs & gus

First: “Bear!” Gus shrieks from his seat at the table.

Last: “You may have gummy bears after dinner, Gus.”

10. drift, perilous courts by tavia lark, julien sandry/whisper

First: Julien watches Whisper in the sunlight.

Last: “We’ll make sure we win.”

Tags: @dear-massacre @jammerific @shadow-wasser @thotpuppy @lavender-lotion @mrs-steve-harrington @bad-at-names-and-faces @definitively-different-drivel

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 25 - Marshall

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 24 -- Part 26

Pairing: Marshall x ofc (Vivienne)

Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...

Warnings: Drinking, blood, violence (sounds like a party, right?), angst...

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Alright! Thank you @deandoesthingstome for gently bullying me into posting this right away (I love you for that!) Here's all there is to know for now on the Marshall situation... It's not a long chapter, but still... I'm excited about this one. I hope you all like some unresolved angst!

@geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos

“Listen,” I snap at Mike and Dani, who have clearly decided that the hallway is a completely appropriate place to suck the skin off each other’s faces, “you’re not the only people on the planet. Get a fucking room.” 

“Marshall,” Dani answers, “go find yourself someone to suck your dick, and leave us alone.” That girl is getting way too comfortable around here. I swear to God; one more happy couple and I’m going to throw up. Of course Sherlock and Elena appear right on cue, also fairly firmly attached to each other. I can’t believe I’m actually jealous of them, actively wishing I had my arms wrapped around… her… I’ve checked the whole house twice at this point; she’s a no-show. That’s probably for the best; I have to get over her, and seeing her will only make things worse. 

Maybe Dani is right, maybe I should… I have to forget about her one way or another. It’s been over a week since it happened, and at first I thought it was just another one time thing. Now, I’m praying to every god I can think of that it was just a hookup, but the more I beg the universe to have it be exactly that, the less I believe it actually was. Thing is: I can’t actually afford to fall in love with my best friend’s sister. If Peter ever found out about this, he’d have my nuts, and I honestly couldn’t blame him. Ironically, he’s also the only person with whom I can actually talk about this shit. Except in this case, that talk isn’t going to go over well. What the fuck would I tell him? ‘Sorry, mate, I shagged your sister, and now I’m in love. With your sister.’ I might as well break my nose myself, that would save me both time and embarrassment. 

It’s time for another beer. Maybe two or three. In the living room, all of my roommates are really busy, and I just can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Not having a great night?” I recognize the voice; it’s Vivienne Chase, Marine Biology major and certified puck bunny. I’m fairly sure she’s made her way through well over half of my hockey team at this point. Not that I care. 

“Not really,” I answer. Dani’s words echo in my head, and it doesn’t help that she walks by right that second, sticking her tongue into her cheek. The whole gesture leaves very little room for interpretation. Mike notices - for a change - and nudges her in the arm while stifling a laugh. 

Vivienne stays. We drink, we talk, I even find myself laughing at some point. 

“I think it’s time to get the fuck out of here.” Great. Charles just decked Tony Bates. He had it coming - from Mike, but he was busy rolling a joint, so someone had to step up to the plate. I’d say it’s not like Charles to stand up for someone else’s girl like that, but it really is. He can be a prick, but he’s fiercely loyal to his friends, and as far as he is concerned, that includes their girlfriends. I’m almost sure he’d never actually make good on any threats he makes about going after one of them. Almost. 

“Alright, folks, nothin’ to see here, back to your business,” Sy says from another corner of the room, tearing his eyes away from Alicia Thomson. 

Tony actually leaves without making a fuss, which saves me a whole lot of trouble. I’d have hated to have to toss him out. From the corner of my eye, I look at Viv. It’s a good thing Charles was already busy talking up Dani’s roommate, because if he hadn’t been, I’m pretty sure Vivienne would have walked out on me. These hockey girls are way into a couple of guys throwing punches. I scoff at the thought. 

“Hm?” Her smile screams mischief and her eyes scream sex. This girl is throwing herself at me so glaringly obviously I’m even getting a strange look from Sy, who’s all the way across the room from me.

“Nothing,” I say, and I try to continue my conversation with her as naturally as possible. School, the holidays, hobbies, the usual. She’s clearly not planning on getting to know me - not that I’m hell bent on finding out everything about her. Or anything, even, for that matter. I know her name, which Charles would probably say is already more than I need to know, and to be completely honest, it’s plenty for me, too. At least right now.

Her hands are always on me, she’s leaning in when I talk, giggling, playing with her hair. Serving up the works, really. If this is a good idea, why am I constantly reminding myself that Lexi isn’t an option? Why can’t I get her out of my goddamn head? I vaguely register the rest of the room as they count down to midnight, and two arms snaking around my waist. Fuck, she’s close, pushing me back against the wall even further… And then she kisses me. 

Her lips are soft but extremely demanding, forcing mine apart. Before I can properly register what is happening, her tongue slides into my mouth, and I just give in. Worst case scenario, I get laid tonight and there’ll be plenty of time for pining over a girl I can’t have, later. Vivienne lets go of me only to put her glass down somewhere, and I do the same. Her lips crash against mine again, and I feel her chest press into me. Not to be insensitive, but she has an impressive rack, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about them once or twice - in a more or less naked state, that is. I stop her when she tries to slide her hands up my sweater. 

“We’re in a room full of people,” I say softly, without even opening my eyes. I can almost hear her grin. 

“How about we move to a room with less people,” she whispers in my ear before very quickly nipping at my earlobe. 

I look around the room, knowing full well there isn’t a living soul in this house right now who would care if I took this girl upstairs - except for me. A voice in my head screams at me to go for it; she’s throwing herself at me, she’s smoking hot, and I’ve got to forget about Lexi. It doesn’t help that that part of my brain is - apparently - very closely connected to my cock. Another part of me points out that I should really be making this decision with my head, but it’s just not going to happen. 

We barely make it through the door of my room before her sweater is off and her mouth is on mine again. Man, this girl is not wasting any time… Hands slip under my sweater, and before I've even pulled it over my head, her hands are already undoing my jeans. I really should be feeling differently about this. My hands are all over the most spectacular tits I've ever seen, and there's a hot girl trying to get into my pants - and succeeding… God, she works fast. Her hand wraps around my cock and for a few moments, I'm a happy man. Until I'm not. Fuck. 

"Too much to drink?" The answer is 'no', but a) I doubt she'll believe me and b) I don't think the real reason will score me any more points, and if I say no, she's going to ask… And then what am I going to say? ‘Sorry, you’re really hot, I’m just madly in love with my best friend’s sister’? Hardly seems like a good idea to me, so I decide to just shrug. Fuck if I know what to do, it's not like I have a reaction prepared for when my dick refuses service! This has never happened before. Alright, that’s not completely true, but it’s never happened before when it actually mattered.

"Too bad," Vivienne says as she puts her clothes back on, and I do the same. I knew there was nothing between us, but it hurts nonetheless to see her leave like this. My mind wanders to Lex. It never would have happened with her, I'm sure, but if it had… what would she have done? Not this.  

I shove the thought of holding her in my arms down resolutely and turn to Viv. 

"Any chance we can keep this between us?" I’m walking the line between indifferent and absolutely mortified. I honestly didn’t even know that line existed, because those two emotions don’t really feel like they’re immediately adjacent, but here we are. 

"I'm not gonna tell. This isn't exactly great for me, either." And just like that, she's gone. 

I finish getting dressed and lay on my bed until I hear noise in the hall. 

"Where is he?" I know that voice. That's Peter. "Mike, I swear, get the fuck out of my way." I can't let Mike take the heat for my mistakes, I have to get out there. My feet are heavy. I know what's going to happen, and it's not going to be good. For fuck's sake, how did I let it get to this?

"Peter, leave him alone." He's down in the hallway when I walk down the stairs, looking up at me. If looks could kill… 

"Marshall…" Mike doesn’t exactly look prepared to get out of the way, which might be a good thing. I hope to prevent this fight from taking place on the stairs, if at all possible. I’ll take a few punches, but I’d rather not break my neck.

"Mike, it's okay. He's after me, not looking for trouble. It's cool, back off." He lets me squeeze past him on the stairs, but he doesn't move. Dani is standing near the door to the kitchen, looking terrified. It's crowded in the hallway. August is there, although I don't see Ange anywhere right now. Geralt and Sol are right behind Dani. Great. An audience.

As soon as I set foot on the ground floor, I take a punch to the face. Both Mike and August look ready to lunge at Peter.

"Guys," I'm not much of a masochist, but I can't say I didn't deserve that. 

"No, sorry," August says, "what the hell is he doing?" 

"I shagged his sister," I say before a second fist hits me square in the nose. God, I hate the way it sounds when it breaks. The guys don't seem convinced to back off just yet, and I'm fairly sure the blood streaming down my face isn't helping.

"If you think that's what this is about, think again, you fucking bastard!" 

"Hold on." I don't know why I'm opening my mouth, honestly. "You're not mad I slept with Lex?" 

The door to my right opens. 

"Nothing going on here, Leon, just get back inside." There's blood all over my face, so this can't be very believable. He does take my advice, though, which I'm glad about. I don't need the guys to gang up on Peter, especially since I had this coming.

"Listen, pal." He's pissed about something, but if it's not me sleeping with Lexi, then what? "You think you can get with my sister - which I'm not not pissed about, mind you - and take off with the next skank a week later?" 

"Nothing ha-"

"Save it. She saw you two take off together. The fuck else were you doing? You got a coin collection I don't know about that you wanted to show her?" He slams me against the wall. It doesn't hurt. Not more than my face, anyway. It's a shit excuse I'm using. Because I'm fairly sure I would have seen it through, if things had… y'know, cooperated. I can see the next punch coming. Might have to close my eyes for this one, because I just know it's gonna hurt like a bitch. Then his words actually register in my brain. She saw me take off with Vivienne. That hits like a ton of bricks. It hurts me enough to bring me to tears, actually. 

"That's quite enough." Any voice that's this calm in a situation like this is usually Geralt's, but Geralt isn't a girl, and the owner of that voice very clearly is. Ange. "There's four guys in this hallway, ready to jump you. You punched him once for screwing your sister, and once for hurting her. Enough." Lo and behold; Peter actually backs off. Not that I wouldn't have, or anyone else in this house, for that matter. Anjelica can be truly terrifying. Especially because we can't exactly talk back to her; August would kill us. And she knows that.

"The whole family was rooting for you guys," Peter says as he lets go of my shoulders, "what the hell were you thinking?" It takes everything I have to stay on my feet, now that Peter isn’t practically holding me up anymore. I can hear the hurt in his voice, which forces more tears from my eyes. 

"The whole fa- What? You just said you weren't exactly thrilled that she and I…" I shake my head - carefully, because it hurts like hell - as if it’s going to clear anything about this up.

"Yeah, because you just did it to get laid.” Even though I know I deserve that - because I definitely believe why it looks that way - I can’t let it slide. Part of me feels that he should know me better after all these years, another part knows I can’t defend myself against this.

"I didn't, I-" Peter doesn’t let me finish my sentence.

"Can it, Marshall!" I do what he asks and shut up - like I probably should have done from the beginning. "There's no fixing this with me before you fix things with her." 

And in trying not to lose my best friend by staying away from the girl I love, I lost both. Happy fucking new year to me.

[astaldis]

Nauseous - Creatures of the Night

@whumpers-monthly​

Fandom: The Witcher TV, The Witcher novels

Whumpee: Cahir

Caretaker: Jaskier

Published: 2022-10-0; Completed: 2022-11-11; Words: 22,898; Chapters: 14/14 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: F/M; M/M; MultiF/F 

Summary: While Geralt's Hanza is staying in Beauclair, the famous fall event is coming up. An event the Witcher cannot refuse to take part in, even though he does have to dress up for it. However, not everything goes as planned and the members of the Hanza are in for some surprises. Blame it on the grape punch. Or is it the bard's fault after all?Written for the Witcher Trick or Treat 2022.

Relationships: Geralt of Rivia/Fringilla Vigo;  Anarietta/Jaskier; Angoulême & Anna Henrietta; Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier; Milva & Fringilla Vigo; Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy; Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Jaskier; Geralt of Rivia/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy

Excerpt from Chapter 12 - Too perfect masquerades and mismatched mates

Fuck. His head hurts like seven hells. No, seventeen. At least. Like caught between hammer and anvil with the most powerful Mahakam dwarf wielding the enormous iron tool. Every few seconds causing a crashing boom to explode in his woozy brain. Like the reverberating roll of thunder directly next to his eardrums. Perhaps it is the clap of thunder and not just a figment of his imagination? There were no clouds last he checked but a perfectly clear, dark velvet sky dotted with a million stars and an unusually big and round silver moon. Perfect weather for Toussaint's famous fall masquerade. However, he feels wet. Very wet actually. In between the echoing booms he believes he can hear the patter of water, too. A sudden deluge? Which he was too deeply asleep to even notice? His eyelids are far too heavy to open just yet to check, though. Damn, has he really drunk that much? He remembers a few glasses of freshly made wine and then there was this delicious grape punch ... He must indeed have had a cup too many as he can hardly remember anything else. Or two cups. Three. He moans softly and tries to sit up but immediately lies back down again, this time with a much louder groan, his head spinning and his stomach doing somersaults. Gods, now would be the perfect time for Geralt to kill him ... He groans again. Then, with an effort he forces his sluggish brain to process a few more of the incoming sensory signals from his surroundings. He stiffens. Shit! The perception processed by the few brain cells that are actually working is rather disturbing. Besides feeling cold and wet and - naked??? - he realises that the booming sound is neither in his head nor the roll of thunder but somebody snoring straight into his ear. Darn, there is a hand on his chest, too, that definitely does not belong to him. And another one in a place that is far too indecent to even mention. Cahir racks his brain who the mysterious woman could be that snores like a hog and seems to be lying right next to him. Very closely next to him. Extremely closely next to him. A woman who seems to be as completely naked and wet as he is. However, no matter how much he strains his muddled memory, his mind is totally blank. Not the faintest of faint ideas as to her identity. Fuck. Cursing colourfully in both the common speech and Nilfgaardian - inwardly, mind, as his tongue is much too heavy and his throat far too parched to utter any sound besides a soft groan - Cahir vows to himself - and on the heron as Toissaintois tradition demands - never to drink any alcohol ever again. Then, as in his current situation this is as helpful as shutting the stable doors after the horse has escaped, and wild guesses will not avail to anything either, he decides that there is no way around it - he has to open his eyes.

Very slowly and carefully, Cahir blinks his eyes open. And immediately closes them again. The light is terrifyingly bright. Well, no use moaning, it has to be done if he ever wants to find out where he is and with who. Preferably before this obscure female starts to wake up. Which would give him the chance to run, if necessary. If he can get his legs to work. A very big if. Another soft groan escapes his lips. How he wishes he could just open a portal and get out of here. Preferably to a dark and quiet and dry place with lots of extra soft cushions and warm, fluffy blankets. Where is a bloody sorceress when you really need one? On the other hand, Cahir would definitely not want Fringilla or any other sorceress or, come to think of it, any other person - or non-person - at all to see him like this. Including the person next to him. Shading his eyes with his dripping wet fingers he tries once more to lift his heavy lids. And catches a vague glimpse of the hand on his chest. Slowly it comes into focus. A pretty big and somewhat hairy hand. Gods, who is this woman? And how on earth have they ended up together like this? Stark naked - in a huge puddle of rain? They haven't ...? Gods, please, no. He shudders at the thought. Shit, shit, shit. Maybe it is just a costume, not the unknown lady's real hand?

Suddenly the lady starts to stir. Water splashes around them as she drapes her not only somewhat but decidedly hairy leg over his and moves her lips even closer to his ear.

"Mm, you are truly magnificent, my dear heart," a drowsy voice half-whispers into his ear. A voice Cahir knows. And it is definitely not the one of a woman.

"Jaskier?!" He jolts upright, panicking at the realisation. And at the sound of his own voice. Which is at least one octave too high. Compared to his dangerously low no-nonsense-commander-voice two octaves. Minimum. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Now he remembers. His costume. Fringilla's voice-altering potion. Gosh, what an extraordinarily stupid idea to masquerade as a woman. An idea which seems to have landed him in the hairy arms of Jaskier, the bard, of all people. In the middle of a fucking waterfall? Cahir cannot verify his first vague impression of his surroundings, though, as his stomach somersaults again and he just so manages to turn around and heave himself onto his arms and over the rim of the shallow, water-filled basin they are lying in before he starts to retch convulsively.

"Cahir?" Jaskier asks, staring at his heaving and very naked comrade incredulously, his voice thick with sleep and the last remnants of inebriation. "What the fuck?" He looks around searching for clues to what has happened. "Melitele's tits!" he then exclaims. "You are her? The Countess Ava???"

Read the complete story on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41477553/chapters/105627054

[whataboutthefish]

Day 14

Prompt 14 Armpit | Role reversal | Stockings

Eskel/Geralt, Armpit, Feral, Growling, Scent Kink

Words 498

Geralt had hardly a moment to remove his swords before Eskel was barging into his room, pushing him up against the wall. 

“Missed you, wolf,” Eskel growled as he devoured Geralt’s mouth, his big hands groping at his armour. His thigh thrust between Geralt’s legs, leaving him up on tiptoes and whining with want in a matter of moments.

“Missed you too, Esk, Fuck, you gonna let me get undress and washed before-” He was cut of by a feral growl and sharp teeth at his neck. 

Eskel pulled back long enough to gaze over Geralt's tired, pale face, his neck. Taking  Geralt’s hands, Eskel turned them over, checking his palms seeking out the familiar lines that told the story of their life.. Satisfied, he lifted them to his mouth and kissed over his knuckles. Closing his eyes, Eskel e took a deep breath.

“Can’t wait, need a taste,” Eskel groaned, his eyes almost black, only the smallest sliver of yellow shining through. 

Geralt began to unbutton his jerkin, before his hands were pushed aside, Eskel taking over until his chest was bare, his nipples pebbling in the chill of his room. Eskel lit the fire with a shot of igni as he pushed Geralt down onto the bed. 

Geralt shivered, looking up at Eskel. His brother was hard in his pants, a continuous rumble coming from his chest, his teeth glinting with a feral smile. Geralt arched his back invitingly, and Eskel pounced. 

Crawling between Geralt’s legs Eskel was sure to make space for himself pushing his thigh right into Geralt’s crotch, giving him something to grind against as he grabbed both of Geralt’s hands and pushed them over his head. 

“Fucking beautiful,” Eskel growled, looking down at Geralt writhing below him. He leant in, scenting Geralt’s neck, his tongue lapping under his ear and nipping at the skin. “Missed your scent,” he moaned, working his way down Geralt’s body, pausing to suck a nipple between his lips. 

“I stink of horse and three days on the road,” Geralt teased, before moaning as Eskel bit down over his peck.

“You smell like mine,” Eskel replied, then he dove in, scenting Geralt where he wanted him most, growling deep, his chest vibrating against Geralt’s. 

Geralt shivered when Eskel’s nose tickled under his arm, his tongue followed, licking a long strip over his armpit. Eskel was so hard in his pants, Geralt could feel him against his abdomen. Geralt wasn’t far behind him, grinding against Eskel’s leg 

Eskel lost himself in Geralt’s scent, rutting back down over him, he licked and nosed his way through the soft hairs, sighed as the scent of mate and his overwhelmed him. This right here, Geralt home and safe and layed out on his bed, Eskel with his nose buried in his armpits was what got him through long days and longer nights on the path. 

“Gonna get you real dirty before you get anywhere near a bath.” Eskel promised with a growl.

[sageclover61]

Sit by the Fire

Written with myself and @hyrulehearts1123​

@cake-shop-rarepair-bingo​​

Prompts: Campire / Fireplace

Fandom: The Witcher

Chapters: 1

Rating: M

Warnings: No Additional Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Geralt & Aubry

Additional Tags: Relationship discussions, fireplaces, platonic cuddling

Summary: Geralt wanted nothing more than to show Aubry that he could protect him. That the other witcher didn't need to work so hard to try and protect their little pack from a danger that had already passed.

Late one night, he finally got the chance to start showing him that.

Geralt's instincts had been going crazy for weeks around Aubry before he finally found the perfect opportunity to take him by surprise.

He was no longer a young pup who let his instincts control him, but he agreed with his instincts that it was time to show Aubry that he didn't have to try to be in charge of him and his mates any more. Not since Vesemir had taken control of Kaer Morhen, leaving no one left who would hurt Aubry or Gweld. These days, Geralt could protect him. And his instincts said it was time to show Aubry that.

It was late, nearly midnight, and the others had all gone to bed already, tired from the long day of chores it took to make sure that they were ready for the harsher freeze that was sure to come. And yet, Aubry was still awake, sitting in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames.

"Geralt? What're you still doing up?" Aubry asked, tilting his head in his direction when Geralt purposefully stepped on a board that would squeak. 

He plopped down on Aubry's lap, straddling his thighs and looking down at his face. "Wanted to check on you."

Aubry's face flushed a beautiful red, a moment before he ducked his head, looking away from Geralt. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just not that tired."

Geralt pressed a kiss to the corner of Aubry's mouth. His instincts were screaming at him to check his health, but he knew he needed to be patient. "Mind if I keep you company, then?" he asked, smiling warmly at Aubry. "I'm not feeling all that tired, either."

Aubry frowned at him, but he didn't move to try to push Geralt off his lap.

"'m not gonna fuck you, Geralt." 

"I'm not asking that of you," Geralt assured him, shifting to gently comb his fingers through Aubry's hair. "Just want to relax, promise."

Aubry's frown deepened for a moment, until Geralt couldn't stand it any longer and pressed a kiss to his lips. Just a quick chaste kiss.

"Haven't been able to just spend time with you in so long," Geralt whispered, his lips still brushing against Aubry's. "Is it so bad to want to relax for a little while, and just enjoy some time together?"

Aubry raised an eyebrow. "I don't want you to fuck me, either."

Geralt raised his own eyebrow. "Did I say that I wanted to fuck you?"

"Is that not what your instincts have been demanding for weeks?" Aubry asked, eyebrow still raised. 

"You're the one that taught us that not everything has to be about fucking, Aubry."

Aubry paused for a moment, before nodding slowly. "I did teach you that, didn't I?"

Geralt smiled. "You did. And I know it probably doesn't seem like it, but you also taught us that there was a time and a place to listen to our extra instincts."

Aubry stared at him for a long moment, searching him. But eventually he sighed, seeming to deflate a little. It wasn't quite curling into himself, but to Geralt's eyes he still somehow seemed smaller. "What do you want from me, Geralt?"

Geralt softened, slowly raising a hand, and gently resting it against Aubry's cheek, not missing the way that the other wolf ever so slightly leaned into the contact. "I want you to be able to relax," he murmured, his voice low, just for the two of them to hear. "I want you to feel safe, without needing to watch your back, even in your own home."

"I know that you've always been our pack leader by necessity, to keep us safe, but I also know you’ve never wanted it. I want you to let go, Aubry, and let me take the role from you. And I want you to want that."

Aubry started to tremble, even as he leaned further into Geralt. "I can't," he mumbled, after a moment. "I can't let go, I need to-" 

"Breathe, Aubry," Geralt gently instructed, carefully shifting his other arm, in order to rub Aubry's back. "You don't need to do anything, I promise. You've done everything you needed to."

Aubry shuddered, a quiet whine forming in the back of his throat, as he dropped his head to rest it against Geralt’s shoulder. He could feel the years of tension in Aubry's spine, and he wanted nothing more than to work out his knots.

But that would have to come later, after he'd earned Aubry's trust. For now, he would focus on helping his brother relax, to help him feel safe enough to be able to submit.

"I'm here," Geralt whispered. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to hurt you."

Ever so gently, Geralt carefully shifted himself and Aubry until they were laying in front of the fire, Aubry laying on top of him.

Slowly, Geralt started rubbing Aubry's back again, feeling small bits of tension ever so slowly fading. It would take time for Aubry to fully relax, but Geralt had forever to prove to him that it would be worth it.

And the results would be more than worth the time and effort that it took.

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.13

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1484

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, female reproductive organs, infertility, etc

Stephanie lay on the couch, Mike laying spread out on top of her, dozing quietly with his head on her chest as she drew random shapes on his back with her fingertips. She had to be careful as she scrolled through her phone that she didn't drop it on him, especially as she was limited to one hand. Her bosses name came up as the call came through and she answered it, holding it to her ear.

“Hey, Heather.” She said.

“Why did HR send me an email saying that the Pack Council notified them that you're under protective custody?” Heather asked, sounding genuinely concerned, not annoyed.

“Remember Jordan?”

“The boyfriend we were taking bets on whether he actually existed?”

“You were taking—whatever, it doesn't matter,” She said, “Well, turns out he's a Feral.” There was silence on the other end and she checked her phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Heather?”

“He's a what.”

“A Feral wolf.”

“But Ferals are...what the hell did the FBI classify them as? Spree killers? Basically?”

“Yeah, turns out he's more Ted Bundy than Elliot Rodgers.” Stephanie said, “He could hide his Feral status.”

“Okay...” Heather said slowly.

“And because he can hide and blend in, Pack Council decided he was a shit tonne more dangerous than your average Feral and placed me on lock down because he's also fucking obsessed with getting me back.” She explained, “I'm also reasonably certain they're using me as bait because if he knows where I am, he's less likely to vanish.”

“Shitty, but makes sense.” Heather said, “Are you at your apartment? Want me to swing by with sushi after work?”

“I'm actually at a cabin a couple hours north.”

“With who?”

“Four Alphas and a Beta wolf.”

“What.”

“Yeah, a couple of them got me away from Jordan before shit hitteth the fan and the Council decided that I'm staying put.”

“Why them?” Heather asked, “I mean, they could talk to the police and put someone on you.”

“Well, one of them is a Council Tracker and, well, it turns out I'm their Mate.”

“The Tracker?”

“All of them.”

“What.”

“Yeah.” Stephanie said, “We have a theory on how that's even fucking possible, but it's as equally impossible to prove, so we're just kind of winging it.”

“Can I get real personal with you?”

“Shoot.”

“Four Alphas, huh?”

“And a Beta.” Mike cuddled into her and she snorted, rubbing his back.

“How sore are you?” Heather asked and Stephanie just made a sound, making her laugh. “Yeah, Alphas are like that with their Mates.”

“And I have four of the testosterone disasters keeping me occupied.” Mike snorted at that, “You're a Lesser Disaster, Mister. Sorry, I have the Beta being a baby koala right now.”

“So when should I expect to see the paperwork for maternity leave?” She made a sound, pulling a face. “What?”

“I haven't had that conversation with them yet.”

“Are they wrapping it?”

“Nope.” Stephanie said.

“Are you on birth control?”

“Nope.”

“So, I should see that paperwork in the next month or so?” Heather asked and she made another sound. “What?”

“I have to let you go and have a conversation with them.” Stephanie said and Mike picked his head up to look at her.

“Sweetcheeks?” He asked and Stephanie said her goodbyes, ending the call. “Want me to get the others?”

“Please.” She said and he very carefully got up from the couch, stretching briefly before heading off into the house, calling for them. She got off the couch as well, going over to lean by the fireplace as they filed into the room, looking at her in question.

“Doll?” Sy asked, “Mikey said you had to talk to us. Sounded important.”

“You guys may want to sit down.” She said and they did, albeit with confused expressions. “How...dead set are you guys on having kids? Specifically with me.”

“I mean, it'd be nice.” Sy admitted, “Have pups of my own with you.”

“I wouldn't mind raising a family with you, Stephanie.” Walter said.

“I mean, lots of kids, big families, kind of comes with the wolf territory, right?” She asked and they all nodded, “Here's the thing. It's not going to happen. Not with me.”

“Stephanie?” Geralt asked.

“You can't have kids.” August said, “I remember you telling me.”

“No, I can't.” She said.

“Because of your accident?” Mike asked.

“No, not because of that.” Stephanie said, “A few years back I made the decision to have my Fallopian tubes detached from my uterus. I still have a uterus, I still have ovaries, but the eggs have no way to...make the trip from Point A to Point B, basically, and your swimmers can't get to them either.” There was silence.

“Oh.” Sy said finally. “So no pups.”

“Not with me.”

“Detached or removed?” Geralt asked.

“Detached, and before you suggest it, I'm not getting it reversed.” He just nodded.

“There's in vitro.” Walter said, “Seeing as you still have your ovaries.”

“No.” She said, shaking her head, “I don't want children, I have no interest in passing on my genetics for reasons that are mine, and doing in vitro fertilization would defeat the purpose of getting it done to begin with.” Another long silence.

“Oh.” Walter said this time.

“Still not disappointed that it's me?” She asked and no one said anything, which was answer enough. “Once this is all over, you'll never have to see me again. I may be your Mate, but you'll be free to have as many babies as you want with other women. Have those big families that I won't give you. Excuse me.” She left the room after that, leaving them sitting there as she walked out the front door, hot tears running down her face. She just kept walking, moving through the trees. She knew that she shouldn't, knew that Jordan was probably waiting for an opportunity, but she didn't care. Let him have his opportunity. Her heart felt like it was being cleaved in two, the fallen and disappointed looks on their faces burned into her brain.

It was stupid. Utterly ridiculous that she should feel this way. So they didn't want her anymore. So what? She hasn't known them for very long. Yes, they gave her lots of orgasms, but great sex does not mean healthy relationships.

“It's always gonna be you.”

Apparently not.

Kids had apparently been a deal breaker for them. It was for a lot of guys, she knew, even more so for wolves it seemed.

In the almost two years she was with Jordan, they never talked about kids, and she lied to him and told him she was getting the shot as she didn't know how he would respond to the fact that she had gotten sterilized, but she had had a feeling she wouldn't have liked it.

Stopping in a clearing, she sat down against a tree, leaning her head back against the bark and taking a deep breath. The calm of the forest sank into her and she sighed with her eyes closed, breathing through the pain in her chest. It had been nice while it lasted, at least. Good memories and all that.

The sound of leaves crunching made her pick her head up and she looked over, seeing the slender black wolf approach her slowly, it's ears down and tail tucked.

"Hey, Mike." She didn't know how she knew it was him, but she did. He sat next to her, leaning against her and looking at her with pleading liquid blue eyes.

"So we talked about it." Looking up, she saw the others come into the clearing, “And while yeah, it would be nice to have pups with you,” Sy said, “It's your body, so it's your choice. You don't want kids, you don't gotta have'em, simple as that.”

“Doesn't matter what we want, love.” Walter said.

“You'd be the one carryin'em anyway.” Sy said, “Not us.” He went over to her, sitting on the other side of her against the tree. “So no pups. Eh, I'm alright with that. Had enough of diapers and spit-up growin' up to last a lifetime.”

“Babies smell anyway.” Walter said, sitting down in front of her.

“They're expensive.” Geralt said.

“And loud.” August said, “Even after they get past the crying phase, they're in the “make noise just to make noise” phase, and then the “I'm going to talk back because I think I know better than you” phase. Rather not deal with teenagers, especially if they take after you, Princess. Stubborn and difficult wouldn't begin to describe it.” She just flipped him off. “My point exactly.”

“So yeah, it don't matter.” Sy said, leaning back against the tree. “We're still with you, pups or no pups.” Mike licked at her face and she blew a raspberry at him, making him give her a doggy smile.

[darkverrmin]

Eskel: Who would you describe as your best friend?

Jaskier: Geralt.

Lambert, snorts: Pff, that doesn't count. You're in a relationship.

Jaskier: So? He's still my best friend.

Eskel: I think it's sweet, actually.

Jaskier: Yeah, he's my soul mate. My best friend, the person who understands me most. Our relationship is built entirely on love, trust and mutual respect.

*Two hours later, Lambert and Eskel packing their stuff, muffled voices coming from the room next to them*

Jaskier: No- No! I don't care what you have to say- No- Geralt. I- Geralt! We're taking you to a healer. No, IT'S NOT JUST A SCRATCH. Listen, you dick, we either go together, or I kick your ass so hard, you'll land at the healer's door. Yeah, I said it. *gasp* Fuck you! Oh, you son of a-

Lambert: Mutual respect, he said?

Eskel: He also said "best friends". I'm still jealous of what they have.

Lambert: Should we check on Geralt?

Eskel: Nah.

Lambert: Think he's fine?

Eskel: I don't know, I'm just afraid to piss off the bard even more.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Take Anything From Me

Pairing: Geralt x Eskel Warning(s): knotting, oviposition, belly bulge, non-human anatomy Rating: explicit

Summary:  Geralt and Eskel have been friends for years now following a contract-gone-wrong where Eskel saved his life. When they meet up again and Eskel is suffering, Geralt is more than willing to help however he can.

I have been so excited for this one, you guys!! Nel did some amazing art for this that can be found in the fic on ao3 or on her twitter!! Please go and check it out, it’s AMAZING!

Geralt's heart thumps heavily in his chest and he refuses to admit that Eskel has anything to do with it. But he can't help but smile when he sees the little island appear through the mist. It's a fairly small island, not even large enough for a lighthouse and easily missed, just outside of the ships' path in and out of the harbour. But a few years back, Geralt almost perished on those same rocks he's so happy to see now. The villagers had lied about the sirens, had said it was one or two attacking ships when it was an entire colony. Eskel had stepped in (so to speak) and saved him, and Geralt had spent the following week repaying the favour when Eskel's face was slashed in the process.

Geralt has been back to visit him often since. It started out as a means to pay Eskel back for his sacrifice, but it was clear after the first couple of visits that there was more than just a sense of obligation there. Geralt likes Eskel and he enjoys their conversations, infrequent as they can be. He looks forward to seeing him again and it's been a few months this time, so his heart beats too quickly and he finds his fingers itching against the rudder, wanting to urge the boat forward faster.

When he does come closer, he sails around to the back of the island where it's sandier and he can pull up further onto the shore. He does so, tethering the boat to keep it from drifting with the tide, and sets off over the rocks to the entry of Eskel's cave.

On the southwestern side of the island, there's a gaping hole in the rock. The sea fills it halfway but during their first interaction, Eskel showed Geralt where to go to reach a hidden ledge inside, lit by an opening in the roof of the cave. It's sandy toward the back - likely from sand falling in through cracks in the roof - with a short ledge where it meets the sea. It's where they always meet because Geralt can't remain underwater for long - even with killer whale, he doesn't have the ability to talk or breathe underwater - but Eskel can stay above the surface for long stretches of time if he's careful about it. So it works and Geralt is relieved to have a place to come back and meet with him.

Most of his belongings have been left at the inn in town, but Geralt keeps a dagger on him at all times, just in case. He jumps into the water in his clothes, swimming in from the entrance and towards the back where he knows the shelf of rock sits hidden from sight. When he reaches it, he pulls himself up, immediately kicking off his boots and stripping out of his wet trousers and shirt. He lays them out in the thin stretch of light and stretches out next to them, hoping they'll dry quickly.

He's usually the first to arrive - Eskel often waits until he hears him, then comes to the surface - but this time, Geralt finds he's waiting for much longer than usual. He tries not to worry about it, but out here in the open, who knows what could happen to Eskel. He knows there's a mer settlement further out, that this cave is just a place Eskel likes to visit, but he's never been late like this before.

So he gets up to his feet, regretting not bringing any of his potions, and peers over the edge of the rock. But the thin light streaming in isn't bright enough to illuminate beneath the surface and Geralt frowns. Reluctantly, he sits down and slips into the water.

He takes a deep breath and dives down, opening his eyes as he pushes beneath the surface, but he can't see anything in the dark. Then, from behind him, sharp hands wrap around his chest, hauling him back up. He breaks the surface and squirms, kicking his feet to avoid hitting whoever has him but to try and get away. But they don't let go and Geralt is shortly lifted out of the water and placed gently back on the rocky ledge. He turns to complain and finds Eskel, submerged up to his chin and watching him.

"Sorry to startle you," Geralt grins, "you didn't show, I got worried." At first, he's distracted by the happiness of seeing his friend again, but as Eskel doesn't respond, Geralt starts to notice a tightness around his eyes. He sits down with his arm resting on one raised knee.

"Something wrong?'' he asks and as Eskel averts his eyes, Geralt notices the aura of… sadness around him. Although it's not just sadness, it's regret and worry and something that brushes against shame and Geralt doesn't know what it is. "You're in pain," he presses but Eskel just bobs a little higher and shrugs at him.

"'S nothing."

"Doesn't smell like nothing."

"Gotta stop doing that," Eskel mumbles, flicking his tail up so it just breaks the surface of the water.

"Who's gonna look out for you if not me?" Geralt teases, but Eskel just stares down at the water. Geralt frowns and readjusts so he's propped up on one elbow, right at the edge of the ledge. "Hey," he says, "what's up?

"Told you, it's nothing. I shouldn't stay today."

"Eskel," Geralt says firmly, "I will come in there after you." Eskel huffs a soft, humourless laugh and flips his tail again.

"It's just not a good time."

"If you want me to go, I'll go, but I won't leave you if you're suffering."

"Geralt."

"Eskel. You risked your own life to save me and you think I'm just going to let you stay here alone and suffering?"

"That was years ago." Geralt just shrugs and Eskel huffs.

"Can I help?"

"No." The answer is abrupt and sharp and Geralt is taken aback by it. Eskel must notice the look on his face because he swims a little closer and ducks his head. "Sorry," he whispers, "it's just… not something you can help with." Geralt nods silently and Eskel flicks his tail again before continuing, seemingly reluctantly. "It's… our season," he explains. Geralt just looks at him in quiet confusion until Eskel lets out a huff, looking away from him. "Mating season."

"Oh." Geralt mumbles, "there has to be something I can do."

"Geralt," Eskel bares his teeth and looks surprisingly vicious for someone so bashful, all sharp teeth and anger.

"Is there nothing? I think I know you well enough now, you can tell me."

"It's not something we talk about with other people, it's… private."

"Okay." Geralt backs off, watching Eskel sadly as he swishes the water around him. "Would you tell me if there was something I could do? To help?"

Eskel is suspiciously quiet. Geralt doesn't expect him to respond, but he doesn't expect the total silence and Eskel's refusal to even look at him. He thinks back to everything he knows about mating rituals - not much outside of the monsters he hunts - to try and come up with a way to help. He knows a lot of egg-laying creatures build nests but he doubts the lack of a nest is the problem here. His own problem is that he knows very little about mer and there are so many different subspecies that any knowledge he does have is probably unhelpful to Eskel.

But there are a few things that are inherent to breeding, the most important of which is the drive to do it, an ingrained need to do it, to fuck, to nest, to reproduce. And the way Eskel is squirming, he has a good feeling that might be part of it.

His stomach clenches at the thought of it and his prick stirs in his trousers. It's just a means to an end, to help a friend in need, but he could do that. If Eskel needs to fuck, it could get painful denying himself and Geralt is here and, well, the thought of fucking Eskel is not unwelcome. It's not even strictly the first time he's thought about it. Especially during those first few weeks, Geralt would catch himself staring, enamoured with the curve of Eskel's tail or the thickness of his chest.

He catches himself now, staring at the plush curve of Eskel's lips and he forcibly drags his eyes away. Eskel is suffering and just because he's fucking stunning doesn't mean he wants Geralt drooling over him.

"If you need to fuck," he says, dropping onto his chest and swirling his hand in the water, "I can help with that." Eskel's eyes immediately snap up to his and he squirms a little, stirring the water around him.

"It's… more than just that," he mumbles, dropping his eyes again. Geralt just rolls off the ledge, splashing into the water to swim over to him.

He floats in front of him, but Eskel immediately snatches him up, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. He's unreasonably afraid Geralt will sink or something and while it's incredibly sweet, it's also a little frustrating when he's trying to talk to him. But as he shifts to try to push away, he can feel the swell of Eskel's cock, fully unsheathed and pressing against his thigh.

Geralt lets out a little gasp of surprise and presses against it. Eskel leans into the touch, eyelids fluttering shut and when he doesn't pull away, Geralt reaches down, brushing his fingers along the seam of his slit.

"Geralt," Eskel chokes, "it's not just- fuck. It's not just about fucking." Geralt leans in closer, reaching up with his other arm to rest it on Eskel's shoulder.

"Whatever it is, I'll do it. I don't like seeing you suffer."

"I can't ask you to do this," Eskel says and he sounds genuinely distressed.

Geralt leans back, still trapped in the strength of Eskel's arms. He smiles at him and brushes his fingers through his hair, taking in the expression of pain and frustration on Eskel's face. He's reluctant to offer a solution that doesn't include his own involvement (he doesn't look too closely at that), but he finds himself offering anyway. Anything to make Eskel feel better.

"Isn't there someone else then? Another mer? You said the colony isn't far from here."

"I can't," he says too quickly, ducking his head and turning his head so the scar is mostly hidden from Geralt's view. "They wouldn't want me."

A rush of guilt and pain washes over him and Geralt shuts his eyes. He reaches out unthinking, cupping the scarred side of Eskel's face in his hand.

"That's their loss," he says softly, brushing his thumb over the uneven skin. "Eskel, just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

"Geralt, it's-"

"It's not too much, I want to help."

"I need someone to take my eggs," he mumbles and Geralt bites the inside of his lip to keep from seeming too eager, but at this point his own cock has picked up and Eskel is sure to notice soon enough.

"How do you mean?" he asks, "you need to deposit them?" Eskel nods and Geralt's mind helpfully supplies the image of being filled full of eggs. His cock twitches in his soaked shorts and Eskel gives a short huff of laughter.

"I don't think that's the reaction you're supposed to have to that," he mumbles. Geralt shrugs. "This should be weird for you, humans don't take eggs, Geralt."

"Humans do a lot of things their bodies aren't made for," he hums, reaching around to tangle his fingers in the loose hairs at the back of Eskel's neck. "And I'm hardly human anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"More than sure. Anything I can do to help," he says but at this point is becoming less about strictly helping out a friend and more about fucking Eskel. He leans in tentatively and Eskel doesn't pull away when he kisses him.

The arms around his waist cinch tighter and Eskel groans against his lips, kissing him back hard. Geralt's head swims with his eagerness, and he's barely able to drop his arm to circle Eskel's neck before they're moving and he's pressed up against the stone ledge. Eskel makes no attempt to put him back on land this time though, pressing right up against him and shifting his hips to rub his cock against Geralt's thigh.

He reaches down with one hand, slipping under the waistband of Geralt's shorts and pulling them off of him. Once they've been discarded back on the rock, he slides his hand under Geralt's thigh, lifting it up so Geralt can wrap his legs around him. The first brush of their cocks together has Geralt squirming, groaning against Eskel's lips even as sharp claws press into the underside of his thigh. He wants him so badly he can hardly breathe.

Eskel nips at his lip and Geralt hadn't realized how sharp he is until now. But the pain only serves to send him higher, travelling straight to his already needy cock. He manages to get a hand between them, taking both their cocks and stroking them together as Eskel's mouth drifts down his neck and along the expanse of his shoulder. He nips and sucks at the skin and Geralt is helpless in his grasp to do anything but moan and rut into his own fist, pressing hard against Eskel's cock.

"Fuck," Geralt mumbles, "that's good, don't- mm, don't stop."

Eskel presses a little firmer with the following bite and Geralt groans loudly. He'll break the skin if he's not careful, but a part of Geralt likes that, welcomes the idea of a scar from Eskel, a mark to remind him of this in case it never happens again. And he's certain it won't.

But Eskel writhes against him, rutting up into his hand and squirming with every press of Geralt's fingers. He wants it so badly Geralt isn't sure how he held out so long, especially having him pressed against him like that, and he's determined to make it good for him.

Tentatively, he slips his fingers to the tip of Eskel's cock, pressing against the slit. Eskel groans softly, burying his face in Geralt's neck. Geralt presses further, letting the tip of his finger slip inside and Eskel's hips jerk hard.

"You like that?" Geralt asks breathlessly and Eskel nods against him.

"Yeah," he groans, "please, yeah."

"Shh," I got you, "Geralt hums, "he slips a hand around the back of Eskel's neck, rubbing gently at the base of his skull as his finger pushes deeper into his cock. Eskel jerks again, pushing up, forcing himself onto the intrusion with a gasp.

Geralt lets him, rubbing along the inside of him and testing out various speeds and pressure. When he switches to his thumb, Eskel bucks against him, apparently eager for the thickness, and Geralt wraps his remaining fingers around his cock, stroking him at the same time as he fingers him. Eskel squirms and moans and Gerslt's own cock throbs with need against Eskel's hips, even the coolness of the water isn't enough to deter it. But he keeps his attention on Eskel, revelling in the pressure when Eskel jerks against him.

"Is that good? Geralt asks, "do you want more?" Eskel looks up at him with pleading eyes and Geralt tips forward to kiss him as he slips off his cock entirely.

Geralt rubs at the head of his cock with two fingers, until Eskel starts rutting up against him and he huffs softly as he pushes inside. Eskel moans, biting down on Geralt's bottom lip and a bolt of pleasure goes straight to Geralt's cock. He lets out his own responding moan and Eskel presses close, wrapping one arm around his neck and pushing webbed fingers up into his hair. They shift against each other, neither moving much but to rock forward into the other and Geralt moves only automatically, so overwhelmed by the press of Eskel's body all around him.

He aches for more, to have Eskel's hand around him, his mouth, to feel that cock pressing into him and splitting him open. Fuck, and Eskel is big. He's not highly educated on the size of mer cocks, but he's willing to bet Eskel is above average. And the thought of him stretching him and shoving into him is incredible.

He lets out a little whine and Eskel shoves him back hard. The rock bites into his back, but Geralt barely notices it as the hand that was firmly wrapped around his side pulls away to wrap around his cock. And Geralt could cry at the relief it brings, rutting up hard against his palm and moaning into his mouth. Eskel is normally so careful when they touch, always aware that his claws are much sharper than human fingernails and doing his best to keep them away from Geralt's skin as much as he can. But in his desperation, he's clumsy and his claws brush along the underside of Geralt's cock as he moves to wrap around the head.

Geralt can feel the way he moves to pull back, but he brings him closer again, groaning to assure him it's fine. More than fine, even, but Eskel pulls away, breathing heavily as he breaks the kiss.

"Geralt," he breathes, "fuck, please-" he lets out a shuddering moan as Geralt presses into him again, "I need to fuck you, I need you-" he devolves to rambling as he presses his face into Geralt's neck, stroking him and squeezing hard as he nips at his skin.

"Yeah," Geralt huffs, tipping his head to the side, "yeah, give me that cock, please-" Eskel snarls against him and in one swift motion he's got his hands on Geralt's hips, lifting him back up onto the rock.

Geralt sits with his feet in the water as Eskel abruptly changes his mind. His fingers dig into Geralt's hips and he holds him forward as he rises up and presses his face between his thighs. He nips at Geralt's skin, licking over the marks and making his way up, temptingly close to Geralt's aching cock.

Precome beads at the tip and Eskel flicks his tongue out, licking it away before pushing himself up further and sinking down on him fully. Geralt doubles over, fingers pushing through Eskel's hair to steady himself as he rocks up involuntarily, seeking the wet heat of Eskel's mouth. As Eskel pulls up, his teeth graze the length of Geralt's cock and he almost loses it completely, moaning and twitching under his grip.

He still wants more, wants to feel Eskel inside of him, feel anything inside of him, so he reaches down, spreading his thighs to press a hand down between them. He nudges against his hole, testing the openness and it's dry, but doesn't hurt when he presses against himself. He doesn't bother with soft touches as he might normally, too impatient to do anything but press into himself.

He gets a finger in up to the first knuckle before it's too dry to continue and thrusts shallowly like that, groaning at the twin pleasures. Eskel, Evidently, is also encouraged by the thought of it, sucking harder so Geralt's eyes roll back in his head. One of the hands on his hips disappears, shortly pressing against his hole, dripping with Eskel's own slick and Geralt groans at the idea of opening himself with it. He moves aside so Eskel can spread it over him, then rubs it into his hole, pushing deeper now than before.

He makes himself slick with it, pressing two fingers in as soon as he is able, but it'll take more than that before he can comfortably take Eskel's cock, even as slick as it is. But it feels good fingering himself as Eskel plays with his cock in his mouth, rising up so suckle at the head before taking him all the way down again so Geralt's weak thrusts push him into Eskel's throat.

Abruptly, Eskel pulls off completely and Geralt thinks he's done something wrong until he's pushed back against the stone and Eskel lifts one thigh, draping it over his shoulder. He pulls Geralt toward the edge of the ledge, sinking further into the water as he presses his face back between Geralt's thighs, flicking his tongue against his skin before licking over his hole.

Geralt goes limp, letting Eskel shove him any which way to better access his hole, licking over it and teasing the ring with the tip of his tongue. When he finally pushes in, Geralt cries out, fingers clenching in his own hair as he tries with no luck to push further onto him.

"Eskel," he groans, "please, I need you-"

Eskel just hums against him and plunges deeper, deeper than any human tongue could reach, and Geralt whimpers, arching off the stone. Eskel's palm presses against his stomach, holding him down and Geralt can only squirm against it as he's taken apart from the inside out.

"Please," he gasps, "fuck, please Eskel, I can take it." Eskel hums against him and Geralt's pleas turn to unintelligible rambling as Eskel's tongue thrusts into him again and again.

Then, carefully, Eskel withdraws, kissing the base of his cock and down his thighs. He lets Geralt's legs drop again, smoothing his hands up them. He hauls Geralt closer and pushes himself up out of the water, bracing himself on the rock on either side of Geralt's torso. He shifts to lean on one arm, brushing the knuckles of the other hand against Geralt's hole and testing the stretch.

Apparently pleased, he reaches down to grip his own cock, stroking himself slowly before pressing the thin head against Geralt's hole and pushing in. He takes very little time to adjust before shifting back onto both hands and rocking forward. Geralt groans as Eskel slides into him, stretching him further as he settles against him. The burn is faint, eased by the cool slick coating Eskel's cock and seeping from his slit and Geralt inhales deeply, shutting his eyes as Eskel shifts impatiently.

"You can move," Geralt rasps, "I can take it. Fuck, I want it." He knows how desperate the urge can be, has been under spells meant to mimic the same urge, and he wants Eskel to take what he needs, not to restrain himself for Geralt's sake.

Eskel pulls back and snaps his hips forward hard and when Geralt just moans and reaches up to grasp at his shoulders, it seems to be encouragement enough. Eskel keeps his pace even, steady but hard, and Geralt squeezes around him, pushing himself further onto his cock. Eskel fills him more than he could have thought and Geralt's foggy with lust, spurred on by the stretch of Eskel's cock inside him.

Eskel leans low over him, kissing him again, but the motion is jolted by his thrusts. Their lips brush and Eskel nips at him, sharp teeth just barely catching so he doesn't risk cutting him and it sends a shock straight through him. Geralt wants him to bite him, wants to feel those teeth sink into his shoulder, right where it connects with his neck. And he's not an idiot, he knows enough about mer culture to know what that means and to know Eskel wouldn't, least of all in the heart of the moment, but he wants it.

He groans softly, wrapping his arms around Eskel's neck and pulling him against him. His thrusts slow and Eskel hums when Geralt kisses him. He knows this is a one-time thing, but feeling Eskel's mouth against his own, slow enough now that he can kiss him properly, is something he won't ever forget. And maybe he's been trying too hard to not feel anything, but when Eskel looks at him, something rises to the surface that Geralt has been carefully avoiding for years now.

He loses himself in the kiss to keep from thinking too much about it, sliding one hand down over Eskel's hip to bring him closer, deeper. But the angle's a little off and he can't get as deep as he wants him. And he wants to feel Eskel's cock in him for the rest of the month.

"Fuck."

Eskel snaps his hips and Geralt whines against his mouth. He pushes his hips down, trying without any luck to push Eskel deeper and Eskel seems to realize what he's angling for. He pulls out and for a second, Geralt is devastated until Eskel leans over him, kissing his stomach.

"Roll over for me?" he asks and Geralt immediately squirms into place, turning onto his stomach. Eskel hums happily and sinks a little lower, pressing his tongue between Geralt's cheeks and licking over him briefly before hoisting himself back up.

He fits himself against Geralt's body, sliding his prick between his cheeks and Geralt shudders at the touch, pushing up to meet him and clenching his hands into fists.

"Please," he whines.

He offered to help because he knows Eskel needs it and because he likes sex - with anyone - but he wasn't expecting it to be like this. He feels empty without Eskel's cock in him, wants him to fill him and fuck him until he can't breathe anymore. When Eskel pushes in, Geralt stills, holding his breath at the first press of Eskel's cock against his hole. He only remembers to breathe when Eskel runs his knuckles down his back tenderly.

Eskel pushes in, sinking deeper than before and Geralt nearly cries when he feels the base of Eskel's cock slip in, spreading him even further. There's a ridge there that he couldn't feel before, but it's obvious now, swollen and right at the base of him. Eskel has a fucking knot. Geralt's own cock hangs heavy between his legs, twitching at the thought of Eskel buried inside him and swollen. He moans into his own arm and nearly chokes as Eskel rocks into him.

He's much deeper this time, deeper than Geralt's ever taken anything before and it makes his head spin. Eskel starts slower this time, letting Geralt adjust to the new position and even though he wants it quick and hard, he's happy for the brief change of pace. Because Eskel leans over him like this, draped over his back with his nose pressed into Geralt's skin. His breath comes in hot, wet puffs and it feels good.

He keeps one hand on Geralt's hip and the other remains planted on the ground, bracing him. The hand on Geralt's hip presses into his skin, holding tight but careful not to puncture, and it steadies him, keeps him calm as the power of Eskel's hips threatens to drive him insane.

Geralt's already dizzy with lust but when Eskel picks up the pace, he nearly collapses against the ground, unable to do anything but moan and shove his hips back against him. His thighs spread, knees scraping against the rock, but it's all a blur; he hardly even notices he's moving until his cock is brushing against the stone as well and he gives a weak little thrust, desperate for any friction. Eskel shifts above him and the hand on his hip slips around to his stomach.

"Can I touch you?" he asks and Geralt lets out a low moan, nodding.

"Yes, fuck, please-"

He doesn't realize how worked up he is until Eskel gets a hand around him and he barely touches him before Geralt's coming, rocking forward into Eskel's hand and spilling all over the ground beneath him.

"Shit," Eskel groans, "fuck, Geralt." He presses his face between Geralt's shoulder blades. His hips jerk and he plants both hands on the ground, claws cutting into the layer of dirt. "I'm gonna come, can you-" he jerks hard, whining against Geralt's skin, "can you take my knot?"

"Yeah," Geralt huffs and Eskel thrusts hard.

Geralt holds his breath as the knot catches on his rim and then with another forward thrust, it slips in. The stretch burns a little, but the thought of being filled so completely only makes him want it more. To know this is Eskel inside him, all around him.

Eskel shifts behind him and while the press of his cock feels amazing post-orgasm, Geralt's head is clearer and when his knees scrape against the stone, it's uncomfortable. Eskel isn't light where he's draped over him, and while Geralt wouldn't in a million years ask him to move, he would like to shift a little. Eskel seems to notice and wraps an arm around his chest, fingers slipping through Geralt's chest hair as he hums against his shoulder.

"Come on," he whispers, and Geralt doesn't know what's happening until Eskel lifts him and pushes off the rock, landing softly in the water. He keeps Geralt's head above water, submerged about halfway up his chest and Eskel nuzzles at his neck.

"Might be a bit," he hums, "tell me if you get cold." A shiver runs down Geralt's spine as Eskel's lips brush the shell of his ear, but he doesn't think he could ever feel cold wrapped up in him like this.

Eskel's arms come up under his thighs, keeping him buoyant so the position isn't uncomfortable and Geralt finds it's quite nice to just lean back against his chest and shut his eyes. Like this, his hearing is his main focus; the gentle crash of waves, sea birds in the distance, Eskel's heartbeat under his head. He breathes lightly, though every little shift has him gasping as Eskel's knot catches pulling against him.

And it's not long before he's antsy again, shifting intentionally to try and press his cock up against his prostate. And when it does hit, Geralt melts into him. He stretched so full of Eskel's cock he can barely think and his own cock bobs with the swirl of the water, hard and needy after only a very short time.

"Sorry," he mumbles but Eskel just hums.

His thumbs rub against Geralt's thighs, soft and gentle and Geralt tries to focus on that instead of the want that fills his veins again. Eskel is soft and gentle with him, despite what Geralt can only manage is an overwhelming orgasm.

"What does it feel like?" he asks and Eskel just makes a non-committal mumbling noise at him.

"Incredible," he breathes, "not like before. 'S like-" Eskel pauses, taking in a shuddering breath, "like reaching the peak and just… staying there. Goes down gradually but- fuck, Geralt it feels amazing. 'S been a long time."

"Glad I could help," Geralt teases. Eskel shifts, bringing Geralt's thighs together and scooping one arm under him so the other is free to wind around his middle, one webbed hand slipping up his chest. He runs his fingers through Geralt's hair, and Geralt hums softly with each pass of his hand, stretching up to nuzzle into Eskel's neck.

"Glad it was you," Eskel murmurs, dipping to kiss the top of his head. "Didn't know what you'd think of me if you knew."

"'S hot," Geralt huffs and Eskel scoffs at him but presses into the touch when Gerlt raises a hand to cup his cheek.

"Thank you."

"Wouldn't do it for just anyone," Geralt breathes and it feels like a confession. Even as the words leave his lips, his heart is hammering in his chest.

"Geralt-" Eskel starts but Geralt interrupts. He pulls Eskel's face down to him, twisting awkwardly to press a kiss to his lips.

"I'm glad it was me, too."

Eskel kisses him soft and slow despite the awkward angle, but there's a heat beneath it, a neediness that returns despite Eskel's softening cock.

It doesn't take much longer for the knot to go down, but Eskel keeps him firmly in his arms and when he shifts to lift Geralt's leg again, his cock thrust deep and Geralt realizes he's still hard. He sinks all the way into him, hooking his jaw over Geralt's shoulder.

"Are you ready?" he asks and Geralt is hot and hard and aching for anything Eskel can offer him, so he nods and throws his head back, turning to meet Eskel's mouth in a brief kiss. "It's a lot if you've never done it before, are you still okay with this?"

"Yeah," Geralt huffs, "yeah, I want this."

"Okay."

Eskel gets both arms under his thighs again, holding him up so he can't sink all the way into him when he thrusts and Geralt groans at the denial. He tries to push his hips down but Eskel just laughs softly and nips at his shoulder.

"Patience," he mumbles, "you'll get it soon enough." But Geralt wants it now and Eskel's promises hardly stop his cock from aching.

This time, when he squirms, Eskel gives him a warning bite and pleasure jolts straight through him, making his cock twitch and his back arch. For a second, Eskel is still against him before leaning down again pointedly and pressing his teeth to Geralt's skin. Not, he notes, close enough to his neck to be considered a mating mark, and something about that is disappointing. Eskel bites down and he forgets all about it, squirming on his cock and reaching down to grab his own.

"Wanna come," he mumbles, stroking himself, but Eskel stops him with a half-growled not yet. Heat rolls up his spine and Geralt lets go of his cock immediately, reaching back to wind his arms around Eskel's neck.

Eskel fucks into him at a maddeningly slow pace, and although Geralt savours the drag of his cock, he needs more. But Eskel seems to be building up, his hips pushing a little deeper, a little quicker. Then, just as Geralt thinks he'll lose his mind before Eskel fucks him properly, he stops altogether.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Now?"

"Mm. It's… fuck, Geralt it's never felt like this before, I don't know- I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he promises, smiling back at him. Eskel squirms a little, his hips snapping forward seemingly unintentionally. "You need to release them," Geralt guesses and Eskel nods.

"Yeah, it's-" Eskel groans and jerks against him, "fuck, Geralt-"

"I'm ready," Geralt confirms, "do it."

Eskel pulls out and Geralt groans at the loss, but then he's being turned around and pulled back into Eskel's arms. They're chest to chest now and Geralt forgets to breathe when he looks up at Eskel like this. The pure need shows on his face and Geralt reaches up, wrapping his arms around the back of Eskel's neck while his legs wrap around his waist.

"Okay like this?" he asks and Eskel nods, breathing slowly.

"Yeah. 'S good. Like being able to see you," he smiles bashfully and Geralt presses up to kiss him even as he reaches behind him to wrap a hand around Eskel's cock.

Eskel groans low, thrusting awkwardly into Geralt's hand and he breaks the kiss to huff, now. It's urgent and desperate and Geralt's cock throbs between them at the sound of it. He doesn't know much about this process, but Eskel sounds pretty adamant. He guides the head of Eskel's cock to his hole again, pressing him in just a little and Eskel growls low in his throat.

He slides in deep, settling as far as he can reach, and Geralt feels like he's choking on it. For a moment, there's nothing, though he can practically feel Eskel vibrating around him. He feels the instant the egg passes, stretching him open and pushing all the way up into him. It's a heady feeling, like having another cock shoved in him while he's already being fucked, only it doesn't pull out. He tries to focus on the egg, to feel when it leaves Eskel's body and settles in his own, but he can't feel it and soon enough he's distracted by a second.

It stretches him in the same way as the first, and Geralt can feel himself expand just a little to make space. They come consistently after that and Geralt's cock has taken a very serious interest in the process. He aches for any touch, but all he can do is thrust weakly against Eskel's stomach. Strong arms hold him in place and Eskel has his head on Girl's shoulder, eyes clenched shut as he deposits the eggs inside him.

But, as Geralt takes them, Eskel's hips start to roll just a little, thrusting into him lightly and he can feel Eskel's breath become heavy again.

"Does it feel good?" he asks and Eskel groans against his shoulder.

"Not normally, doesn't normally feel like this. Guess normally I'm not with someone-," he mumbles, and Geralt is quick to pick up on the meaning.

"Feels good with me?" he asks and Eskel huffs a laugh and turns to kiss his neck.

"Feels incredible," he breathes. "Never understood why mer travel so far for breeding festivals, but- fuck yeah, it's really good." He punctuates the words with another sharp thrust just as another egg is released and Geralt isn't sure how many more will fit.

He's experimented with toys and fucked people with every sized dick imaginable, but he's never felt so full like this before and when he glances down, he can see the result of it. His stomach swells and he slips his hand over it, he can feel the individual eggs inside him. It should be weird, should make him squirm with discomfort, but the only thing he feels is a vague sort of satisfaction and pleasure.

He likes the look of his stomach, swollen with Eskel's eggs and he can't keep from touching it, feeling as the eggs shift inside him when another is added. And Eskel has noticed. He hums encouragingly as Geralt touches his skin, gently feeling the outline of the eggs though it doesn't show from the outside. He knows Eskel is watching, can feel him looking at him when he does it, but he seems pleased, kissing Geralt's shoulder and neck and nuzzling against him.

Geralt doesn't get much warning when it's over, and it's hard to tell because Eskel's thrusts are nearly constant now, the roll of his hips and Geralt can only imagine his cock inside him, slipping between the eggs that fill him. Something about that is stupidly arousing and he leans forward, pressing his lips to Eske's collar bone.

"Wanna come," he groans, "please, touch me."

"'S too late," Eskel hums apologetically, "you have to expel them first and it can take a lot of energy, I don't want to risk you like that." He brushes his knuckles against Geralt's cheek and Geralt whines softly, shutting his eyes.

"Are you gonna come?" he asks.

"If you want me to. If you think you can take it again."

"Gonna knot me again?" Geralt asks, pressing back onto him, "gonna fill me up and breed me?" He's rambling now, needy and being denied even as he rocks his hips against Eskel's stomach. Eskel groans and wraps a hand around the base of Geralt's cock, squeezing him and holding his cock away from his body.

"Fuck, you don't make it easy," he breathes.

"Then fuck me," Geralt hums, "fuck me, please."

Eskel squeezes his ass, claws digging into the flesh, and hauls Geralt against him, thrusting quick and hard. Geralt can tell he needs it too, can feel it in every shift of Eskel's hips and in the way he clings so tightly to him.

"You're gonna-" Eskel gasps and groans, dropping his forehead against Geralt's shoulder. "You're gonna have to expel them soon if you want my knot. Not gonna be able to hold out much longer."

"I wanna keep them," Geralt breathes, "for a little longer." Eskel moans and his hips stutter and Geralt wants him so fucking badly. Wants Eskel to knot him with the eggs still inside. "Please," he whines, clenching around his cock, "Eskel please."

Eskel growls low and with the next thrust, Geralt can feel the swell of his knot growing. It bumps against his rim and Geralt pushes his hips down to try and take it, but Eskel pulls back again. The next thrust pushes a little deeper, stretching Geralt around his knot but not pushing all the way in. He pushes a little deeper with each thrust until Geralt's thighs are tight around his waist and Eskel holds him so tight he can hardly move.

Geralt's cock throbs between them, so hot and needy that he can hardly stand it because Eskel refuses to touch him. And when Eskel finally pushes inside him, Geralt can feel the eggs jostle inside of him as Eskel's knot spreads him wide again.

Geralt is so unimaginably full he can barely think. His cock throbs and Eskel slides in and out and he's barely aware of anything else. He wants to come but Eskel holds him in such a way that he can't rub his cock on him anymore and it's maddening. Eskel's nose presses into his neck and he's breathing hard, grazing his teeth against Geralt's skin.

"Gods," he groans, "wanna mark you up, make everyone know your mine-" he growls and Geralt clenches around him, biting hard on his own lip to keep from coming. He shudders in Eskel's arms, whining and vaguely aware that he's asking Eskel to bite him.

"Please," he moans, "Eskel please, I want it. Make me yours- I'm yours, Eskel fuck-"

Eskel nuzzles against him, nipping at his shoulder but refusing to bite harder and Geralt groans with it. He needs it like he's never needed anything in his life and he might go mad without it. Eskel soothes him, biting down on his shoulder, dragging his teeth along the line of his neck.

"You feel fucking amazing," Eskel hums, "so fucking good around my cock, Geralt. Fuck. I'm not gonna last long if you keep it up." Geralt doesn't care. He wants Eskel in him, wants to feel that full-body shudder that runs through him as his knot swells and he spills inside him. He shoves his hips back again, clenching intentionally this time. He didn't realize how close he was until Eskel's prick rams up against his prostate again and he cries out, dropping his head back with a whine.

"I'm gonna come," he rasps, "Eskel please let me, please- I can push them out, I can, please, I want to come-" Eskel bites down on him, growling against his skin and Geralt's cock jerks hard.

"Hold on a little longer," Eskel breathes, "you feel so good like this. Just a little longer-"

Geralt hangs on as long as he can, squeezing hard around him and clenching his hands in Eskel's hair to try and hold himself together, but as Eskel's knot slips into him again, he shoots off, coming uncontrollably. Eskel shifts to let Geralt rut against him and he does, working himself through it and pressing down on Eskel's knot.

When he's finished, Eskel's chest is while with come and Geralt can't even hold his head up on his own. One of Eskel's hands slips up to the back of his head, holding him up with a soft little kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Gonna come," Eskel warns him. "Gotta get you somewhere-" he's cut off by his own moan and his hips snap forward hard.

Eskel tips onto his back, flicking his tail to propel them back toward the shore. There's a lower ledge in the rock, only covered by a couple of inches of water and he pulls them onto it, rolling them onto their sides and pulling Geralt up against him. Geralt shivers at the air against his skin but then Eskel's kissing him, soft and sweet but demanding and urgent at the same time. He bites his lips, wraps his arm around Geralt's waist and pins him against him.

"Fuck," he whispers, lips parted and breathing against Geralt's mouth, "gonna come."

"Come," Geralt whispers, "I want it." And he does.

Eskel jerks against him as he buries himself deep, spilling inside him. Geralt's eyes flutter as the knot swells inside him and he shifts to get comfortable, adjusting to the size of it. His body is heavy, but he wants this to be good for Eskel. He winds his fingers into his hair, kissing his neck and his mouth and sliding a hand between them to play with his nipples.

Eskel writhes against him, bucking hard and groaning and Geralt holds him closer. When Eskel finally stills, he kisses him. There's no heat this time, no need or want, just pure tenderness and the softness of exhaustion bleeding into his motions. Geralt melts into him, making no attempt to move other than to fit into the space Eskel makes when he moves.

He nearly falls asleep before Eskel nudges him, humming softly.

"Hey," he breathes, "don't pass out on me yet. We still gotta get those eggs outta you."

"Hmm," Geralt mumbles, "talk to me, tell me how it feels."

"Incredible," Eskel whispers, "Geralt you have no idea. 'S never been- never been like this, you feel so good. Wanna bury myself in you and stay there forever."

"Not gonna complain."

Eskel huffs a laugh and kisses him again, bringing a hand up to brush the hair out of Geralt's face. It's fallen out of its tie and is sticking to the sweat and water on his face, but Eskel pushes it away, smiling softly at him. He shifts closer, pressing his nose to Geralt's and shutting his eyes.

Geralt doesn't sleep, not really, but he drifts, only vaguely aware of Eskel still against him, talking him softly through it and then-

"Geralt," he breathes, "love?" Geralt stirs, opens his eyes to look at him and Eskel smiles. "Hey, told you you'd be tired. Are you ready to push them out?"

"Are you-?" he asks and Eskel nods.

He shifts, slipping from Geralt's body with a moan, and Geralt can feel his come dripping out of him. He squirms and his cock stirs where it's been lying soft against his thigh. Geralt pulls himself up to his knees, but Eskel reaches out to stop him.

"It'll be easier in the water," he says and Geralt doesn't get a chance to respond before he's scooped back onto Eskel's arms and they're splashing into the water again.

Eskel holds him close and Geralt stretches out, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on his skin. Eskel's hand comes down to rest on his stomach, rubbing soft circles into the skin. He turns Geralt around and Geralt rests a head on his shoulder, letting Eskel's hands roam over his body. Eskel presses down on his stomach just lightly and Geralt groans.

"Ready?" Eskel asks, "you just have to push."

The eggs feel strange coming out of him, similar to having a cock slip out of him, but again and again. He's stretched by each of them and it doesn't take much before his cock is twitching to life again, firming up without so much as a touch.

"Keep pushing," Eskel hums, "just a couple more and I'll touch you. Do you want to come again, Geralt?"

He nods, unable to find words as another egg slips from his body. They sink as he expels them, and Eskel continually rubs his stomach, kisses his neck. But Geralt is exhausted and his body begs for rest and Eskel has to readjust him. He presses one hand to Geralt's stomach, helping to push the eggs lower and make it easier.

When the final one slips free, Eskel wraps a hand around his cock, stroking him quick and hard until Geralt jerks and comes, arching off his chest with a cry. Eskel turns him and kisses him. He nips at Geralt's neck, right where he'd put a mating bite and Geralt waits for a pain that doesn't come. But he can't expect that from Eskel, not after keeping silent about his feelings for so long.

Eskel lifts him up, sitting him on the rock ledge and Geralt immediately lies back and rolls over. Eskel gives a soft huff of a laugh and pushes himself up after him. shuffling over to curve around him. He's warm and solid and When Eskel's tail winds between his legs, Geralt shuts his eyes and hum.

"'S good," he mumbles and Eskel laughs.

"You're incredible." Eskel nuzzles against the back of his neck, throwing an arm around Geralt's waist and it's the last thing Geralt knows before he falls asleep.

When he wakes, Geralt is stiff and aching, back on land again, but Eskel is pressed against his back and Eskel kisses the back of his neck. His nose traces a line down his neck and along the back of his shoulder.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"You asked me to mark you," Eskel says softly, "why?"

"I- I know how important it is to you - to mer - I didn't mean to make light of it, I just- You're important to me, Eskel. I haven't been as open as I should be, but you're… I wanted you to. Not just to bite me but to claim me- fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Eskel hums. "Geralt, I couldn't- to tie you to me, to this place and nowhere else-"

"Eskel?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want… this?"

"Do I want to fuck you until you literally pass out? yeah. Yeah, that was incredible. You're incredible. Shoulda told you before, didn't think you'd be interested."

"You saved my life and that week I spent here," Geralt huffs a laugh, slipping his fingers between Eskel's. "I didn't want to leave."

"Don't have to," Eskel hums, "not now, not ever if you don't want to."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Geralt mumbles, settling again against Eskel's chest.

"'M not. I like having you here."

"Mmhm, must be really popular having a Witcher for a friend."

"They feel safer with you around. I feel safer with you around." Geralt snorts and Eskel muzzles up against him. "What do I have to do to prove it to you, hm?" He kisses the back of Geralt's neck and slides to the junction of his neck and shoulder, kissing the skin there.

"Stay for a while," Eskel hums, "maybe we can talk more about that bite."

Geralt's eyes flutter shut at the light touch and he sighs as Eskel pulls him close. He doesn't know how to make this work and maybe that's part of the reason he never said anything until now. But Eskel seems convinced and after tonight, Geralt is willing to trust him with pretty much anything.

[witcher-and-his-bard]

What’s Mine Is Yours (To Leave Or Take)

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): a/b/o, intersex omegas, accidental pregnancy, mpreg (see ao3 for full list of tags) Rating: explicit

Chapter: 16

•  prev •  WMIY Masterpost

Fic Summary: Geralt has knows since the trials that, unlike other omegas, he will never become pregnant, never raise pups and live a normal life. But after a close call finds him and Jaskier in bed together, he discovers he was wrong about that assumption.

[read it on ao3]

They don't get a chance to talk about it the next morning, or even in the few days following the birth. Geralt and Jaskier lock themselves away with the pups for the first few days, alternating sleeping times so there is always someone awake when the little ones need something. Then, when Geralt is comfortable, they start having visitors. It starts with Jaskier's parents only, then extended family and a few friends, but Geralt is too tired to have long visiting sessions and eventually just Jaskier's immediate family comes around to check in on them occasionally.

Things are going smoothly, as well as they can with two brand new pups in the family, but there's a heaviness that hangs over them. Geralt knows Jaskier meant what he said the day of the birth, but they've had so little time to themselves since that it's hard to remember. Jaskier adores the pups and Geralt aches to see him holding them, falling asleep with one on each shoulder, but he doesn't feel like he can bring it up again.

Then, when the pups are a few weeks old and Geralt is up and about again, Jaskier comes to their rooms wearing a suspicious grin.

He had left with the pups, so Geralt has to force himself to remain calm when he arrives back without them, but Jaskier saunters over to the bed where Geralt has been resting, climbing up onto it with him.

"My parents are looking after the pups tonight," he purrs, "I know you're tired my darling, but what would you say to an evening with me? Just me."

"Depends," Gerlt hums teasingly as Jaskier dips down to kiss him, "what did you have in mind?"

"Was thinking we could have dinner together, just us, maybe go for a ride through the gardens? Maybe have a bath before bed?" He kisses down the side of Geralt's neck and along his shoulder where his shirt has slipped.

"Sounds nice, your parents don't mind?"

"Not at all, they're delighted to have new pups in the family… and we have some things to attend to - if you still want me?"

Geralt's blood rushes and his skin prickles at just the mere mention of it. He knows Jaskier means to mate him tonight and it sends a bolt of delight through him.

"Yes," he breathes nodding even as Jaskier's lips meet his again. Jaskier smiles against him and pulls back.

"Best get dressed then, my love, dinner will be ready soon."

Dinner is more like a feast, more food than the two of them could possibly eat, and Geralt is already mourning for when they will have to leave Lettenhove and set out again. They eat in companionable silence, though the air is thick with anticipation and Geralt would let Jaskier fuck him over the table with the servants right there if it means he gets to be his mate.

But they finish eating without incident and decide to bypass the garden ride in favour of a walk. It's been a long time since Geralt's been outside for more than a few minutes at a time and he's missed it. Jaskier takes his hand and leads him around the manor, humming softly. They talk a little, but Geralt is just happy to have time alone together, even just one night.

"I know you're still right here," Jaskier whispers, "but I've missed you."

He stops in the middle of the path and turns to face Geralt, reaching up to rest his arms on Geralt’s shoulders. For a moment, Jaskier just looks at him before leaning in for a kiss and Geralt shuts his eyes as Jaskier's lips brush his own. Geralt’s skin heats under the attention and Jaskier deepens the kiss, sliding his arms down around Geralt's waist to pull him closer. He should be worried that someone might find them here like this, but instead, Geralt's body moves of its own volition, arching into Jaskier and moaning softly when Jaskier bites his bottom lip.

Jaskier walks him backward off the path until Geralt's back hits a wall, obscured from the rest of the garden by large flowering bushes. Before he can even think, Jaskier's hands are on his trousers, pushing them open and running his fingers along his lower abdomen. Geralt flinches, pulling away a little. He still has a belly, leftover from the pregnancy and Jaskier hasn't seen him naked since the birth - there just hasn't been time for anything. As an omega, Geralt healed quickly from the birth, his mutations speeding it along further, but he's barely had any time alone with Jaskier when the pups weren't present, barely even time to bathe.

"What's wrong?" Jaskier asks, pulling his hands away, "does it hurt?"

"No, I- I'm not-" Geralt can't put it into words why he doesn't want Jaskier to look at him, to touch him, but Jaskier seems to get the message just fine.

"I think you're beautiful," he whispers, kissing Geralt's jaw. "I don't expect your body to go back to how it was immediately, my love. And you've been eating so much better here, I'm you've gained weight, you needed it to grow our little darlings. Can I?" he asks and Geralt nods slowly, watching Jaskier's hands as they settle on his stomach.

"So beautiful for me," he whispers, running his hands over Geralt's belly. "Are you sore still?" he asks and when Geralt shakes his head, Jaskier grins and drops to his knees.

He tugs Geralt's trousers a little further and runs his mouth along his cocklet, sucking the head into his mouth as he reaches it. Geralt shudders and leans back against the wall, fingers pressing into the fabric of his trousers. And Jaskier takes him down quickly, working him up to full hardness in no time and humming around him. It's been ages since Geralt's had a warm mouth wrapped around him like this. Most alphas he spends his heats with don't care to play with his cocklet; they're professionals and their job is to fuck him through his heats and knot him if necessary. Everything else is extra and Geralt doesn't pay for that.

But Jaskier takes his time with Geralt’s cocklet, sucking him down and curling his tongue around it, bringing him right to the edge over and over in a matter of minutes. Geralt has had a lot of first-hand experience with Jaskier's tongue these past months, but never like this and it's a little overwhelming how quickly he feels like he's going to come without anything inside him.

Just as Geralt's sure he's going to come in Jaskier's mouth, Jaskier pulls off and moves up the length of him, nibbling at the skin just below his belly. One hand remains on his cocklet while the other slides up his thigh. When it lifts off him, Geralt sighs in disappointment, but then Jaskier's fingers are pushing up inside Geralt's freshly-healed cunt and he nearly cries out.

Before he can even adjust to the dual pleasures, Jaskier's mouth is back on his cocklet and Geralt bucks into the warmth of his mouth, moaning softly as his fingers ache where they dig into his thighs.

He comes with a soft cry and Jaskier's free hand comes up to cover his mouth, his thumb rubbing gently over his chin as Geralt pants against his palm. Jaskier doesn't let up, coaxing a second orgasm out of him before slipping off his cocklet and kissing up Geralt's damp thighs.

"Mmm, I've missed you," he hums, straightening up and pressing Geralt into the wall. He kisses Geralt slow and dirty, pressing his stiff cock into Geralt's thigh.

"What do you say we call it early, hm? We could head back to the room now, I could lay you out properly like you deserve."

Geralt's heart picks up at the part Jaskier is intentionally not mentioning. They both know where this is leading tonight and Geralt has been aching for it for weeks now, if not months.

"Yeah," he whispers, drawing Jaskier into another quick kiss, "yeah, let's go."

Jaskier quickly gets Geralt tucked back into his trousers and it's a little uncomfortable with slick coating the insides of his smalls, but it's only a short walk back to the manor from here and they reach their rooms quickly.

As soon as they're inside, Jaskier shuts the door and locks it. He doesn't come toward the bed immediately, but strips out of his doublet and shirt before wrapping his arms around Geralt's torso and kissing him firmly. He walks them both back toward the bed, his kisses only growing deeper and needier, and then finally picks Geralt up and carries him the rest of the way, legs wound tightly around Jaskier’s waist.

Even when Jaskier puts him down, Geralt doesn't loosen his hold. He likes being able to press himself to Jaskier and they haven't been able to do that since the first time, so he's not about to let go now. But Jaskier doesn't seem to mind, just kissing him harder and pushing his arms up above his head, fingers twining together on the pillow.

They rock together until Geralt's panting, so wet he's sure it's seeping through his trousers by now. Geralt is desperate for it. The overwhelming need he had (apparently incorrectly) assumed was part of the pregnancy has returned and he feels like he might burn alive if Jaskier doesn't get his knot in him immediately.

"Fuck," he groans, arching off the bed as Jaskier moves to kiss down his throat and chest, "fuck, please, I need you-"

"Shh," Jaskierwhispers, "I know love, after tonight we won't have to worry about it anymore. You won't get so desperate for it-" he kisses over his collarbone and glances up at him through his lashes, "though I will say I'll miss you writhing under me for my knot. Fuck, you look pretty like this."

"What do you mean after tonight?" Geralt grumbles.

"I uh, talked to my parents about… well, us. I know you haven't felt like yourself lately, like going through a heat, but with clarity, right?" Geralt frowns but nods, unsure why now is when Jaskier decided to bring this all up. "It's a uh, sympathy bond. Didn't know it was a thing, but it can happen to alphas and omegas who spend a lot of time together or even just if they're very close."

"What does it mean?"

"Means your body wants to complete the bond. We were emotionally linked, just not physically."

"Oh." That does explain a lot. "And you felt it too?"

"Oh, my love, I had to keep myself from biting you without your consent every fucking time. I wanted you to be mine. I still want you, always."

"'M yours," Geralt mumbles, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Jaskier's neck again.

With some fumbling, they get Geralt out of his shirt and then Jaskier's hand slips into his trousers, fingers slinking into his slick cunt. He brings Geralt off quickly like that, then gets Geralt out of his trousers altogether so he can eat him out while fumbling out of his own clothes.

When they're both fully naked and Geralt is loose-limbed from two additional orgasms, Jaskier shifts over him, arranging their limbs comfortably before sliding into his cunt. Jaskier presses himself close, keeps his thrusts shallow to start, but Geralt is needy despite having come already and he rocks down onto Jaskier quick and hard.

"Need you," he mumbles against Jaskier's lips and Jaskier hums in reciprocation.

He nuzzles against Geralt's neck as he fucks him, one hand tangled with Geralt's above their heads while the other braces Jaskier’s weight above him. Geralt is too overwhelmed to keep his eyes open, but he can feel Jaskier inside him, around him and when his knot begins to swell, Geralt pushes against it.

Jaskier's mouth seals around Geralt’s throat, teeth grazing lightly and sucking hard at his skin and Geralt can barely breathe in anticipation. Jaskier bites down as his knot pushes in and Geralt whimpers into the empty air, clinging to Jaskier’s shoulders and moaning through another orgasm as Jaskier comes inside him.

But this is different than before, different even than during his heats because the pleasure doesn't stop. It plateaus and just holds steady until Geralt can barely stand it, whimpering into Jaskier's hair and digging his fingers into his shoulders.

He's crying when Jaskier draws away and only then, without the warmth of Jaskier’s body against him, does Geralt notice the dull ache in his neck. He reaches up to touch, but Jaskier catches his wrist.

"Not yet, darling, let it sit a minute." He dips down to kiss Geralt and with the pressure of Jaskier's lips against his own, Geralt decides he doesn't mind waiting.

He lets himself be shifted so their legs are tangled, foreheads pressed together. Geralt feels overwhelmingly warm, loved, and it's not until Jaskier kisses him again that he realizes it's a shared feeling. It feels like more because it is, because his life, his feelings aren't just his own now, nor will they be again. It should terrify him to think of sharing everything with another person, but the fact that it's Jaskier is exhilarating rather than worrying.

Geralt shuffles closer, jostling Jaskier and they groan in tandem as Jaskier’s cock pushes deeper into Geralt’s cunt.

"Sorry," Geralt whispers, but Jaskier just nuzzles against him, kissing around the mark on his neck.

"Nothing to be sorry for, love. Feels good."

Geralt reaches up, fingers ghosting against where the bite mars his skin. The constant throb has gone down a little and Jaskier doesn't try to prevent Geralt prodding at it this time. It's a little sore to touch, but nothing like some of the injuries he's had over the years and this is something he's been waiting for.

"Mine now," Jaskier teases and Geralt smiles softly at him. "Good luck getting away from me now."

"Wouldn't want to," Geralt mumbles, "I love you, and we need you." He nuzzles under Jaskier's chin and hums softly. "Tonight was nice, but I miss them."

"I'll remind you of that when they're five and trying to play with your swords."

Jaskier tips down, kissing the top of Geralt’s head with a soft sigh and Geralt's chest constricts at the thought of five years in the future. With Jaskier still at his side and their pups grown into little people of their own. If they're anything like Jaskier, he thinks, they'll be terrors.

He can't wait.

[jaskiersvalley]

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

[myinconnelly1]

The Omega’s Curse 4 (final)

Square Filled: one character worrying anxiously about another Ship: Geralt x OFC Rating : Explicit A/N: This is Part 3 of the Omega’s Curse By popular demand (like 3 people) Warnings: 18+ NSFW,  a/b/o dynamics, canon violence canon gore, purposeful scaring, branding (kinda), unplanned pregnancy, non-graphic labor, labor complications Summary: When a sheep farmer thinks his daughter is cursed, he pays the Witcher to help. Word Count: 1346 Created for @anyfandomgoesbingo.

Special thanks to @firefly-graphics for the Witcher themed Dividers!! Check her out the stuff is amazing!

It took 3 days to sort everything out with the sheepherder.  Sharra seemed to recover from the wounds quickly, the magic aiding in the healing and scarring of the glyph.  Geralt spent some time with Sharra explaining that the Ifrit was trapped in her skin, but was likely not to fight back since she was an omega.  He had heard of something like this happen once before and the Omega lived a full and happy life.

“A life that I hope you can have back,”  Geralt said before standing and taking the coin bag from Sharra’s father.  “Sorry about the chickens,”  Geralt said to the man as Sharra snorted and the Witcher left to get Roach splitting paths from the bard.

“Geralt!”  Jaskier called as he saw the Witcher on the road several months later.

“Jaskier, who have you pissed off this time?”  Geralt smiled at the bard as he continued to walk, mostly uninterested.

“Not me pissing people off this time,”  Jaskier almost bragged.  “I thought you made a point to not go through the same towns?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been through here.  I’m sure they won’t mind me passing on,”  Geralt shrugged.

“Oh, it’s been a while alright.  Actually, I was on my way to find you with some interesting news I gathered,”  The bard dangled the gossip in front of Geralt like a carrot.

“I am not interested in the gossip of your high light dandies and rich ladies,”  Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Oh no!  This is not about my life or the people that I spend time with.  Actually, it involves a very pretty Omega girl and a curse… Do you know anyone like that?”  Jaskier was literally shaking as he attempted to hold the news in.  Geralt gave in.

“Alright, yes.  Sharra, what about her?”  Geralt asked.

“OH, You remember her name?!”  The bard almost jumped up and down with excitement.  “Well, I heard that a certain Omega was with child.”  Geralt looked at Jaskier with a pained and dirty look.  “And she is due any day now,”  The bard wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m sure she and the Butcher are quite happy then,”  Geralt growled lowly.  He didn’t know why he was so jealous about the entire thing.

“No, the Butcher moved to a different town,”  Jaskier side-eyed him.  “There seemed to be quite a scandal when he tried to offer to buy her with a cow and no chickens?”

“I hope there is a point to all of this, Bard,”  Geralt’s patience with games was at an end.  His feelings for the Omega being brought back up to the surface.  Feelings he could not acknowledge because Witcher’s weren’t good mates.

“She’s having your pup?”  Jaskier had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the witcher.  “Are you that dense?”

“Witcher’s can’t have children,”  Geralt said with a deep-seated anger.

“Sure.  Geralt, you should go there.  Just see her,”  Jaskier said quietly.

“Fine,”  Geralt growled.  “Fuck.”

“This village was much more pleasant without you,”  Jaskier whispered as they met the cold and angry stares of the town-folk.

“I imagine,”  Geralt said as he stabled Roach.  “I’m looking for Sharra, has she moved from her parent’s house?”  He asked the stable boy.  He seemed unable to speak to the witcher and simply pointed out of the barn to a house that was several houses away.

“How long ago were you here?”  Geralt asked as he walked with Jaskier toward the house.

“It was several days ago,”  Jaskier said as they got close and saw the sign for the town’s midwife.  Two young boys were playing in front of the house.

“Is your mother here?”  Geralt asked the older boy holding up a small coin.  The boy ran over to him to take it.

“She is busy with Sharra,”  the boy said inspecting the coin closely.  “You can’t go in.  No boys allowed,”  He said nodding to the other boy he was playing with.  A cry came from inside the house as if on cue.  Geralt restrained himself from rushing in to help his omega.

A thought occurred to him as the impulse to run to her side passed.  He brushed off the notion that she was his omega.  He hadn’t thought that before when they had fucked.

“Let’s get a drink.  We can wait them out,”  Jaskier pulled at Geralt’s arm subtly, and the Witcher noticed he had taken a rather aggressive stance.

“Witcher!?” An older man called as he walked into the bar.  Several people turned to look at the scene, as the sheepherder came over to the table Geralt and Jaskier were sitting at.  “You’ve killed my daughter, Witcher.”

“She was alive and well when we left,”  Jaskier said standing defensively for Geralt.

“The child you left in my daughter’s belly won’t come.  She’s been at it for almost two days.  The midwife says it’s likely neither of them will survive,”  Tears were flooding the older alpha’s eyes.

“It’s not my child,”  Geralt sighed.

“HORSESHIT!”  Sharra’s father roared.  “The butcher rejected her when she was well enough to visit him again.  She was already pregnant, and you know better than anyone else here that she was a virgin before you came to town.”

“I saved her life,”  Geralt said uncomfortably calm.

“The child trapped in her belly is proof otherwise!”  The sheepherder cried.

“Trap…”  Geralt mused as Jaskier shot him a look that told them they both understood.

Geralt stood and pushed past everyone in the bar running back to the midwife’s home.  Jaskier was slower getting past people but he was close behind.

“Look out, boy!”  Geralt called as the young boy they had talked to earlier dodged to the side of the crazed looking Witcher.  Sharra’s hoarse cries were still coming from inside the house, and Geralt followed them.

“Wait?!”  Jaskier cried out as he saw Geralt pull out his dagger when he entered the room that Sharra was in.  

“Geralt?”  She panted.  Her hair was wet with sweat and her clothing was mostly removed to make her as comfortable as possible.  The scars on her belly were clearly visible. Geralt caressed her cheek, as Jaskier blocked the midwife from stopping Geralt.  The Witcher cut a shallow line through his glyph carefully.

Energy surged threw the house in a tidal wave-like surge knocking everyone back, before reforming into the smoky, monstrous Ifrit.  Sharra yelped in surprise as her water broke, and the midwife coached her saying something about seeing the child’s head.  Jaskier got back up from the ground and saw the Witcher get the Ifrit’s attention to take it away from the women.

“Stay here and guard the door,”  Geralt said to Jaskier as he led the monster away from Sharra.

“WITCHER!”  The monster’s fire-crackle of a screech roared across the field in front of the midwife’s home.  The boys scattered to hide as Geralt readied himself to fight it.  “SHE’S MINE!”

“You won’t touch her again,”  Geralt growled.  “She’s mine,”  he said without a second thought.  Then fought the monster.

“Alpha!”  Sharra whined just as Geralt’s silver blade plunged through the smoke and it dissipated.  He ran back inside to his mate.

“I’m here,”  He cooed comfortingly as he knelt next to her.  Jaskier came over with the midwife and he clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“It’s a boy,”  The midwife smiled in an exhausted yet genuine smile as she handed a small bundle to Sharra.

“What should we name your son, Witcher?”  Sharra sighed looking at the babe with relief.

“You choose.  You did all the hard work,”  Geralt teased her.  Jaskier stood and walked to the doorway.

“I shall write this beautiful chapter, and no one will believe it,”  Jaskier pouted.

“Why not?”  Sharra giggled tiredly, looking over the dramatic bard.

“No one will believe the White Wolf has a child!  Besides, I’m not sure fatherhood would suit you Geralt,”  he teased in mock disinterest.

“I think it would suit me just fine.  If you’ll have me,”  Geralt hummed against his mate's forehead.

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