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[stuffthatbard]

im super thirsty for ANY non con w jaskier. if it suits you maybe a bridenapping a/b/o situation? geralt steals omega jaskier from his husband and breeds him against his will. verbal humil and physical abuse a plus ;3

somnophilia, noncon, painkink, manhandling, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, slapping, jaskier is a male omega, male omegas have breasts when theyre pregnant and they have cunts yay, cuntslapping because jaskier’s a painslut.

Geralt calls jaskier “boy” in this on occasion, but jaskier’s like 25, and geralt’s doing that because hes like what, 800?? Lol. also, pretty happy with how this turned out :)

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“We’re waiting till marriage,” the omega says, eyes lovey dovey as he palms over his pregnant stomach. His neck is bare, bondbite missing as Jaskier explains exactly why. “I want it to be special,” he says, smiling at Chireadan, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smells mouthwatering; Geralt can smell the slick scent of his cunt— a constantly horny bitch, fat with pups. It’s all Geralt’s ever wanted, and he resolves himself to take it. He slips the sleeping powder into both the omega’s and the alpha’s waters.

It’s too easy, slipping into his chambers at night and stealing the omega away. It’s too easy, shoving his unconscious body onto Roach and riding over the border before dawn. What is really hard though, is keeping his hands off the unconscious omega. Geralt rubs over the swell of his stomach, feeling the pups kick against his hand. He slips a hand under the front of the omega’s trousers, dick twitching as he touches. The omega’s clit is hard, stiff with the arousal that comes with pregnancy, and he’s so wet that Geralt has half a mind to stop and plough him senseless. Not yet— not yet. Just a little longer till he’s up in the hills, back in the abandoned cave he occasionally stays during rainy days if he’s nearby. No one knows it's there, long-forgotten as vines and trees grew up and around it. 

For the time being, he slows Roach into a trot, well past the border. The omega’s still unconscious, his head resting back against Geralt’s shoulder as Geralt touches. He thumbs over the omega’s labia, rubs at his clit. His breasts are full and plump, and Geralt’s forced to stifle a whimper as he pinches his nipples into a hard nub, feeling a droplet of milk bead at the nipple. Gods, it’s too fucking hot. Geralt fingers the omega, rubbing over his clit as he plays with his nipples. He can feel his walls twitch and clench, hears him sigh as Geralt fucks his fingers harder, curls them up— the omega gushes slick, body trembling as he cums— fuck. Geralt ruts against the small of his back, hungrily working the unconscious omega through his orgasm as Geralt tips over into his own. 

It takes an hour after they reach the cave for the omega to wake, brilliant blue eyes blinking against the setting sun. Geralt watches his body as he sits up, the curve of his breasts slumping against the swell of his stomach has him dripping pre as he works his cock over. He looks around, and his eyes settle fearfully on Geralt. “Where are we?” Silly thing, Geralt wants to tell him, it doesn’t matter. The omega flinches, backing himself against a wall; one of his arms curve over his breasts, hiding his nipples, and the other attempts to reach his cunt to cover himself, only to be hindered by his pregnant stomach. 

Fuck. Geralt’s going to ruin him.

The omega yelps as Geralt drags him forward by the hips, his back hitting the floor as Geralt straddles his thighs. “W— witcher?” His voice is all warbly, his fear makes the air coy and sweet. How adorable; Geralt finds himself donning a small smile as he pulls the omega’s legs a part, giving his sweet cunt a gentle slap. He fights, of course he does, fierce little thing he is. He scrambles, punches, and claws; it takes two moves for Geralt to flip him onto his stomach, his hands occupied with keeping himself so his body doesn’t rest on his baby, doesn’t harm it. 

Geralt holds his hips down, one hand sliding up to his nipple and giving the milk-laden breast a gentle squeeze. A fat omega, all for himself; can’t believe his luck, really. He could do anything. Geralt twists harshly at a nipple, the omega bucking and arching in pain. Funnily enough, Geralt can scent pleasure in the air, smell the slick of his juices. “Oh, little omega likes a little pain, does he?” he rumbles. Geralt lets go of the omega’s hip, putting more force into pinching his nipple as he kneels between the omega’s legs, forcing him to spread his knees and spanks his cunt harder, faster. 

The coy thing moans, his pleasure spinking. “Your sweet husband never did his for you, did he? Knocked you up and kept you unsatisfied,” the omega’s ply in his hands, whimpering as Geralt finally lets go over his nipple and turns him back onto his back, “what an awful alpha you had.” The omega parts his lips to snark, and Geralt draws his hand back, bringing it down hard enough on the omega’s cheek to whip his head and render him senseless. His face turns pink with the impact, lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes wide in silent shock. 

He frowns. “Witcher, you’re—” Geralt slaps him again, enjoying the look on his face, the arousal in the air, the slickness of his cunt against the witcher’s knees. He pinches down the omega’s chest, twisting his nipples greedily and tugging and massaging at his breasts till they’re leaking milk. He’s so hard he might actually die, Geralt thinks.

“What a slutty little omega, I can’t wait to ruin you, turn you into what you were meant to be, little thing.” He slaps the omega’s breasts in harsh bursts, enjoying his moans as he arches. Geralt shoves his cock into his cunt with little preamble, the moaning omega trying to draw his legs close, cute thing. Geralt pinches the inside of his thighs sharply, slaps them till they’re red and bruising to push his legs to the side.

And then he fucks him, his massive hand wrapped around the omega’s wide neck. Geralt watches with greedy eyes as the omega’s body jerks underneath him, bits of milk pooling and dripping from his nipples, stomach jiggling in time with his thrusts. Geralt moans as he feels the omega’s cunt twitch around him, slaps him once, twice, and the little thing’s cumming, the witcher fucking and rubbing his clit to work him through it. It’s enough to pull Geralt over the edge, slamming his hips against the omega’s as he sinks his teeth into the omega’s neck, bonding them together. He collapses beside him, careful of the omega’s pregnant stomach, and boundless the limp boy close. 

The omega sighs, his scent content as he cuddles into the warmth of Geralt’s pecks. Later, Geralt will clean them of the cum and the slick and the milk. For now, he holds his mate. 

“What’s your name,” he mutters out at last.

The omega looks up at him, those eyes that the witcher so-adores half-lidded as Geralt soothingly rubs over his bump. He looks good, warm, comfortable and cared for. His face is a little pink, and Geralt will sooth it with healing cream later, the same for his cunt, but for now, he holds him and now-their child in a gentle embrace, close and cuddled. 

“My name? Julian Alfred Pankratz,” he sighs out, “Jaskier.”

“Jaskier,” the name tastes right on Geralt’s tongue. “Omega. Mate.” Oh, he loves it, he’s never felt so whole. 

Jaskier smiles, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Alpha. Mate.” And dozes off.

[stuffthatbard]

For a prompt, maybe A/B/O Jaskier is raped (possibly gang?) during his heat and begs Geralt to sleep with him in case he's pregnant, so he won't know if the father is Geralt or the rapists ✨

Heeeeeey. Sorry I'm late. Have a Starbucks.

Man, this took me 2 years but here it is at least. Enjoy.

Everything hurts, every last part of his body. He's sore and bruised, rubbed raw in a way he has never felt before. He feels sticky with sweat, his thighs tacky with slick and… other fluids. His underwear sticks to him, making it all worse.

Jaskier stands in front of Geralt's door for a long time, shaking and crying silently. He shouldn't have come here, he should call the police, go to the hospital.

But he can't. His heat isn't over. There's… There's still a chance.

The doorbell is muffled through the closed door, but it's shrill enough to feel like nails on a chalkboard to his already fraying nerves. It takes a long moment until he hears footsteps inside, quiet cursing.

Right, he thinks vaguely. It's only three in the morning.

There's silence behind the door for a moment, and then it's being wrenched open. Geralt stands on the other side, wearing pyjama bottoms and nothing else, his hair loose around his shoulders. His eyes are wide. "Jaskier? What- What the fuck happened?"

Jaskier pulls the blanket he managed to grab on his way out of the house tighter around himself. "Can I come in?" he asks weakly, and Geralt immediately makes way for him.

[stuffthatbard]

Surface Tension Geralt/Yen/Jaskier Explicit ~5500w Orgasm denial, edging, subspace, d/s, praise kink and a host of other sex acts that really are secondary to the emotional porn, softness, and humor. Geralt is Yen and Jaskier's toy for the evening.

Geralt was starting to believe tonight might be the night that he would be fucked to death. Jaskier would immortalize it in an over-the-top ballad and Yen’s elegy would probably be understated, but Geralt wouldn’t care because he’d never felt this agonizingly good for this long; it didn’t even matter if he never came, as long as Yen and Jaskier got what they wanted from him.

Geralt lay flat on his back, his hand cinched on Yen’s hip where she was riding his cock, and he was drowning in the steady burn of pleasure. Jaskier sprawled beside them, languid as a cat, his eyes drifting from Yen to Geralt with an expression that was more thoughtful and assessing rather than aroused, despite the flush in his cheeks.

Geralt hazily suspected Yen must have enchanted the sheets to wick the sweat away, for all the time he’d spent on his back while she and Jaskier took their turns to play with him.

Yen leaned forward and braced a hand on Geralt’s chest, but slipped from the sheen of sweat. She sat back up, her hips moving in an easy rhythm. Geralt followed her right to the edge of orgasm and no further; gone were the evenings where Yen and Jaskier took turns competitively getting him off to see how many times he came in a single night. They’d discovered after a dozen orgasms that Geralt could still get hard but not stay awake. Consciousness, it turned out, was no longer a requirement to orgasm and get hard again—much to Yen and Jaskier’s delight—and Geralt’s tired bemusement.

Their current obsession was seeing how long Geralt could hold on without coming, without losing his erection entirely. Without falling asleep. Without Yen or Jaskier getting bored of a witcher’s stamina.

It had tested Geralt’s own patience and mettle, forcing him to exert more control and mindfulness of his body in service of the game they played. There were variations on the style of gameplay—which were entirely dependent on Yen and Jaskier’s moods—and a rubric that Yen and Jaskier had bickered over when constructing their elaborate point system.

There was one fundamental rule: whoever was touching Geralt and caused him to climax would be the loser. There was an addendum that if Geralt came untouched, the game ended in a stalemate. Jaskier had been loud and insistent on adding that rule to their game when Jaskier had once pulled out of Geralt’s ass to give him a moment to breathe, and crawled into Yen’s lap, kissing her collarbone so sweetly. Geralt had been running so hot for so long and the mere sight of them together made his heart swell and his cock began to empty before he could look away.

Tonight had been a long night already. Jaskier and Yen had already come several times and Geralt floated so close to the edge of his orgasm.

continued on ao3

[stuffthatbard]

noncon or dubcon/cnc if you want, ABO, alpha jaskier, sounding, prostate milking, overstimulation, orgasm control, bondage

geralt needs alpha cum for [potions/contract/insert reason here], so he hides/throws out jaskier's suppressants and while jaskier is asleep, ties him down to the bed. jaskier is a heavy sleeper, so it's no wonder he doesn't wake up until geralt is tightening the final knot.

geralt is kind enough to explain what he needs--and he explains that of course jaskier needs to be tied down, because otherwise he might waste the seed geralt is trying to collect. then geralt takes out a vial of pheromones/omega slick he keeps in his pack and uncorks it in front of jaskier's face, watching the way his pupils dilate and sweat breaks out on his brow. jaskier goes into rut, moaning and instantly hardening.

geralt oils up his hand and starts to stroke jaskier, the bard trying to thrust his hips up but unable to from the restraints. it's not long at all before he's on the verge of coming, and geralt pulls away to grab an empty potion bottle. jaskier whines, his orgasm snatched away from him, but the whine turns into a moan when geralt places the mouth of the bottle against the tip of his cock and rubs at the crown of his cock, coaxing his spend out of him in a powerful orgasm.

unfortunately it's much more powerful than geralt expected, and more than half of it lands on his chest, wasted. only a few drops make it into the bottle. undeterred, geralt keeps stroking, trying to milk more spend out of him. jaskier is gasping, oversensitive, his knot on the verge of popping but not able to with nothing to lock into. tears form in the corners of his eyes but geralt doesn't stop until jaskier is once more on the edge, and it's then that geralt pulls away again, rifling through his bag for the tool he needs. it's both a relief and torture

geralt pulls out a hollow tube, about the width of his pinky finger, which connects to a large vial. it'll be tricky to get it into jaskier's cock, but luckily he can't squirm much and hurt himself.

he returns to jaskier, catching his breath on the bed, and gives his cock another few cursory strokes to keep him hard and on the edge. then he carefully lines the sound up with jaskier's slit, readjusting when the contact makes his cock twitch, and in one smooth motion, pushes it in, down the whole length of his cock. jaskier lets out a garbled half-moan, half-cry and comes again, seed spattering the sides of the tube and rushing into the vial. perfect, but still not enough.

by this point jaskier's cock looks painful, almost purple with need, twitching and throbbing, a hairsbreadth away from popping a knot. geralt oils up his other hand and glides a finger against jaskier's hole, slowly coaxing it to open--unnatural in his rut, but something that will help geralt milk more orgasms out of him.

only one finger pressing against his prostate is enough to have jaskier shooting off again, aided by geralt's other hand massaging jaskier's knot. "please," jaskier begs breathlessly, "please, i need a break--"

geralt ignores him. it will be far easier on jaskier to collect what geralt needs now, while he's bolstered by his rut, than to give him a break and risk the artificially-induced rut ending. he squeezes tighter around jaskier's knot, and with a strangled moan jaskier locks geralt's hand, wave after wave of spend spurting out of him. all his muscles tense, yanking against the ropes, trying both to thrust further into geralt's hand and to squirm away from the painful overstimulation.

two fingers rubbing ruthlessly against jaskier's prostate prolong his orgasm further, or maybe send him into another one on the heels of the former. either way, geralt has almost as much as he needs. one more orgasm should do it, but jaskier looks to be on the verge of passing out, completely drained.

he releases jaskier's cock, leaving his knot inflated inside nothing and drawing a pitiful whine out of the bard. he watches as the knot slowly goes down, jaskier's frantic pants slowing down as he's allowed to catch his breath. geralt waits until jaskier is almost entirely soft before starting again, ignoring (or maybe enjoying) how jaskier screams until his voice cracks. it takes a good while, but eventually jaskier comes for a final time, running dry by the end of it, and when geralt glances up jaskier is unconscious.

he withdraws the tube from jaskier's poor tortured cock, wiping him clean with a warm, wet cloth, and undoing the restraints around his wrists and ankles. he tucks the bard back into bed when he's done and stores the vial safely in his pack. it'll be put to good use later.

[stuffthatbard]

Geralt was so exhausted and tired after a particularly hard hunting , and he fell asleep unable to feed his incubus.

So we have a very starving and sulky incubus here. 😏

[stuffthatbard]

Yessss, she’s so suave and sexy and has Jaskier falling all over himself to please her… alternating between praising him for when he does something right and cooing over him in derogatory sympathy when his inexperience gets the better of him. “Aw, baby, it’s okay, we’ll train that out of you. That way you won’t have to disappoint me again.”

Thinking of Yennefer grooming far too inexperienced Jaskier...

[stuffthatbard]

Trans!Jask prompt bc Hell Yeah Other Trans Writers: Geralt finds out Jask is transmasc after a few months of traveling with him, and starts bullying him into letting Geralt fuck him. Just freely sniffing Jaskier's underwear, tugging lazily at his cock when Jask has to change in front of him, murmuring about the kinds of things he loves to do with soft perfect pink cunts like Jask's. Jask is Very Uncomfortable with the forwardness and the language, but he loves Geralt, and wants Geralt [1/2]

Trans!Jask prompt bc Hell Yeah Other Trans Writers: Geralt finds out Jask is transmasc after a few months of traveling with him, and starts bullying him into letting Geralt fuck him. Just freely sniffing Jaskier's underwear, tugging lazily at his cock when Jask has to change in front of him, murmuring about the kinds of things he loves to do with soft perfect pink cunts like Jask's. Jask is Very Uncomfortable with the forwardness and the language, but he loves Geralt, and wants Geralt,

Geralt to love him so badly. Maybe Jask doesn't actually give in until Geralt molests him, fingering him in his sleep or brutally fucking and creampie-ing him when he gets stuck in a wall; he's so ashamed and upset, but it really does feel as good as Geralt promised it would to have big throbbing witcher cock snug inside his boypussy.

-

Yess, Geralt finds out one day when Jaskier is a bit too slow getting dressed one morning, maybe too tired/hungover to be careful about hiding like he usually is. Jaskier isn't hugely feminine, which is why Geralt doesn't realise at first, but after he sees Jaskier's pretty cunt it's so much easier to notice all the little differences.

The way he walks and always insists on going alone to relieve himself, the subtle curve of his hips and roundness to his chest and well, Geralt likes men and women both. Jaskier just happens to be a perfect little blend of everything and gods, Geralt wants him now.

He starts crowding Jaskier, dragging him close by the shoulders and wrapping an arm around his waist, hands squeezing his hips and Geralt has big hands so its only natural his fingers dip a little bit closer to certain places than they should but he never actually touches anywhere he shouldn't be touching so Jaskier brushes it off.

Of course, that only makes Geralt bolder, he starts sniffing at Jaskier's clothes, picking up his braies and sniffing them idly like an animal might just to watch Jaskier flush.

"Good dream?" He'll ask if he smells the salt scent of arousal on the fabric, rubbing his thumb over the long dried wet patch and Jaskier can't help but squirm in embarrassment even as he tells Geralt it's none of his business.

Eventually, Geralt convinces Jaskier to change in front of him, because it's not like Geralt doesn't already know, and he eyes Jaskier's body hungrily the whole time, licks across his lips as he watches. Jaskier tries to hide himself, crossing his legs together and hoping that the thatch of hair he has will stop Geralt's eyes from wandering, but Geralt likes when Jaskier is red-cheeked with embarrassment. Not to mention I hc trans!Jaskier as having a rather big t-dick (or magic/medieval equivalent anyway), so it pokes out from between his lips and his pretty curls.

Geralt is still a man, and so it's not surprising when he starts to get his dick out and stroke it whenever Jaskier is trying to change or bathe, or even when he unbuttons his doublet; because its summer and he's sweating so much it's leaving marks beneath his arms and under the soft swell of his tits, and most noticeably between his legs.

And Geralt talks. Jaskier had thought him a brusque, quiet man before, but apparently, Geralt has plenty to say on how he would treat a perfect little cunt like Jaskier's. How much he loves to eat out needy, slick cunts and spread them nice and wide on his fingers. How well satisfied he always leaves them, a Witcher cock is far more satisfying than any human, leaves sweet little pussy's stretched and squirting because they feel so good.

Jaskier slowly grows more and more uncomfortable, but at the same time, Geralt is never cruel to him, always genders him correctly, and Jaskier can't help but feel guilty for his reactions. And he likes Geralt! Geralt is kind and helps people in need, and he's handsome to the boot. He'd already been kinda in love with Geralt before, and he can't shake those feelings; instead, he just wants Geralt to love him back.

So, he tries his very best to resist all the filthy talk and dark eyes and nasty looks. Geralt's never actually done anything to him, not really. Right up until one summer night when they're in the middle of a forest, no one around for miles.

Jaskier had been exhausted and dizzy from the heat, fell asleep far too early to be any use around camp, but Geralt said it was okay. And when he wakes up he's even hotter, there's a heavy body sprawled across his back, his hips forced up and legs open by the pillow between his legs. He tries to make some sort of noise, but his mouth is so dry, and all that comes out is a hoarse little croak as Geralt rubs his fingers even deeper inside of his tight, virgin cunt.

Jaskier has taken men up the ass before and down his throat, never in his pussy. And never a man as substantial as Geralt, who's fingers are the width of a normal man's cock - or at least it feels that way. Dry, choked out little moans escape him as Geralt spreads his fingers open, dragging them along Jaskier's silken insides, and oh his mouth might be dry as ash, but his cunt is soaked. He's so wet he can feel it dripping down between his thighs.

He feels tender, and rubbed raw, every inch of him hot and damp bar his croaking throat and then Geralt is whispering in his ear, telling him how good he feels, such a sweet thing, tight little cunt, won't it feel nice to get Geralt's cock inside-

And Jaskier has never wanted a cock in his cunt before, but he's dizzy and weak, and all he can do is let out little whimpering sounds as he nods along to whatever Geralt is saying. Geralt is being so kind, so affectionate, making him feel so good, this is what he wanted, isn't it? He wanted Geralt to love him.

And oh how Geralt loves him, pushing the blunt head of his cock between Jaskier's lips, over his barely stretched hole. Lets Jaskier lick his own slick juices off Geralt's fingers as he teases him with the huge tip of his cock. Jaskier can feel tears of shame and fear welling up in his eyes as Geralt starts forcing him open and dear god it does hurt, a bright splitting pain that rattles through his body and ends up somewhere between his throat and the very tip of his throbbing clit.

Geralt is relentless, though, keeps pushing like Jaskier is nothing but a tight hole to use and somehow, through the pain it feels good. Maybe because of the pain. Jaskier can't tell, all he is is sensation and Geralt's voice in his ear telling him how perfectly tight he is, such a good boypussy for Geralt to sink into, and he's so big Jaskier can feel every throb of his cock like it's lodged under his ribs and he can't breathe.

It's only when Geralt pulls out and thrusts properly for the first time that he finally gives in, stars exploding behind his eyes, pleasure forced through his body. He can't remember why he'd been so resistant to something that feels so good, limp as a ragdoll beneath Geralt as he's pounded and he knows he's just going to be waiting for the next time Geralt uses him.

--

I love trans asks, please always feel free to send them in uu. I love Jaskier getting forcibly turned on whenever someone takes him, especially if it's in his little virgin cunt. I hope you enjoy!

[stuffthatbard]

honeyed milk (don't spill it)

(explicit, geraskier, a/b/o, lactation kink, omegas lactate when they are turned on during heats ☆ read on ao3)

Jaskier isn’t sure which part of him hurts more, his tits or his hole.

He’s perched on Geralt’s lap as time passes slowly. His head rests in the crook of Geralt’s neck, nuzzling the alpha’s scent gland. He’s only wearing a thin chemise, the buttons undone to expose his round, swelling breasts, the milk so full he feels close to bursting. Neither of them wears anything on their bottom halves. Jaskier straddles Geralt’s thighs with bare legs to sit on his cock, warming it with his tight hole.

The air smells of an omega’s pre-heat, the sweet honey scent radiating from Jaskier’s warm skin.

Jaskier squirms, trying to ease the way his hole flutters pathetically, but there is no release. It only builds the pleasure pooling in his lower stomach, pushing him towards the edge but never over it. Slick drips around Geralt’s cock, soaking between their legs. His tits react to his pleasure, lactating desperately, his whole chest growing impossibly sore.

He’s well past the point of hurting from the lack of orgasm, but Geralt is only half hard inside him. The whole situation is extremely unfair.

“Geralt,” Jaskier murmurs, kissing the faint mating scar on Geralt’s neck in a self-soothing manner, drinking in the familiar, comforting scent of his alpha. “Hurts.”

“Hmm.” Geralt, the bastard, turns a page of the book he’s reading over Jaskier’s shoulder. “Too bad.”

“Please…” Jaskier feels close to tears. His hole twitches pathetically, swollen and sensitive. “I said I was sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

Jaskier bites his lips, pulling away to look at Geralt pleadingly, but his alpha doesn’t even look away from the book.

“For flirting with those alphas earlier,” he answers. “I shouldn’t have.”

The pre-heat makes Jaskier feel warm, his mind fuzzy around the edges. He reaches down on instinct, trying to touch himself. His breasts, his perk cocklet, his hole, it doesn’t matter which part of him. He just needs some gentle touches, some release—

Geralt slaps him on the ass. “Hands, off.” He pauses with every word. “You don’t seem sorry.”

Jaskier jerks from the harsh contact, tears welling up. Immediately, he puts his hands behind Geralt’s neck obediently, clasping them together. He will suffer much longer if he didn’t listen, he knows, and Jaskier tries to listen. He really tries. He’s just hurting too much.

“Please, Geralt,” Jaskier sobs quietly. “I was in pre-heat. You know how my mind gets fuzzy when it’s close to my heat. It was just instinct. I didn’t mean anything by it. They seemed friendly, is all.”

“Friendly?” Even from his voice, Jaskier can tell the way Geralt is raising an eyebrow, not believing him. “You mean after you paraded your pre-heat, knowing you’d attract attention? Were they also friendly when you sat between them, letting them rub their scent on you?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t. You still smell like them.”

Jaskier lets out an unhappy sound. “Then make me smell like you. Come inside me and mark me yours. I don’t want their scent. I never wanted it.”

“Did you not?” Geralt rumbles against Jaskier’s chest, the vibration going straight into Jaskier’s hot, burning core. “But you liked the attention, didn’t you?”

Jaskier shakes his head, hugging Geralt close. “Only from you. I’m yours, remember? I’m your mate, your omega. Yours. Only yours…”

He trails off, the need to reassure Geralt overpowering sensible thoughts. Jaskier finds himself kissing everywhere he can reach, Geralt’s shoulder, his chin, lapping at his scent gland where his alpha smells the strongest. His breath shudders, the burning sensation under his skin getting more intense by the second. It nearly feels like a fever. The sweetness of his pre-heat intensifies, so Jaskier tips his neck, hoping the enticing scent has more of an effect on Geralt.

His fingers thread into Geralt’s hair, tugging desperately.

“I said—” An animalistic growl shakes from Geralt’s chest. “—hands off!”

When he slaps Jaskier’s ass again, it is with too much force. The sudden pain pierces through the fog in Jaskier’s mind, and he cries out. His hole flutters around Geralt’s cock, fresh slick gushing out. White, hot pleasure washes over Jaskier’s body in a powerful wave, pushing, and pushing, until his breath shudders and all sounds die in his throat.

Still, he doesn’t come.

Jaskier’s vision darkens for a split second, stars dancing before his eyes. Pain explodes in his chest. He can feel milk streaming down from both nipples, soaking the fabric of his chemise.

He moans sadly, barely noticing the tears on his cheeks. A shiver runs down his spine.

Sweat soaks through Jaskier’s hairline, and he just realizes how hot he has become. His skin burns with energy underneath, simmering with want. Dissatisfaction grows in his chest, an overwhelming need that turns into a bone-deep ache. His hole spasms around Geralt’s cock, now fully hard and buried deep within Jaskier. They fit together the way they are meant to be.

A primal urge of an omega takes over. Jaskier burns to come, and he burns to be knotted.

Oh. His heat is here.

It hits faster and harder than expected, from all the teasing his alpha has inflicted, leaving a tragic sense of emptiness in Jaskier’s chest.

He blinks, and turns to his alpha. “Geralt?” Jaskier says, voice small, fighting with the last bit of clarity. “Geralt. Noonwraith.”

As soon as he says their special word, the book closes shut and lands somewhere far away on the floor. There Geralt is, easing Jaskier from his shoulder and observing him carefully. Golden eyes fix on Jaskier without jealousy, without anger. Whatever emotions they were playing with earlier disappear when Jaskier says the word that means he needs the act to stop.

“Hey,” Geralt cups Jaskier’s tear-soaked cheek with concern on his face. Jaskier is sure he makes a pitiful sight—eyes dazed, lips wobbling, his skin flushed and fevered. “Alright?”

Jaskier sniffles quietly, reaching for his chest to cup one breast in his palm, feeling the weight of it. He rarely feels his tits so big, so round and heavy, but the soreness doesn’t go away. He is still an unsatisfied omega.

“Geralt, I think—I think my hea—” Jaskier shudders, words nearly incoherent. He bites his lips to ride through the pain in his hole and chest.

“Fuck. Your heat.” Understanding dawns in Geralt’s eyes as he sniffs the air. “It’s fast.”

Jaskier can only nod as Geralt settles into familiar motions, his calloused hands touching the omega’s hungry skin everywhere. He knows Jaskier’s tendency to be touched excessively in heat, so he pulls Jaskier even closer, wrapping an arm behind Jaskier’s waist so he sits more comfortably on Geralt’s cock.

“Mm…” Jaskier mumbles. “Need to come…”

“Shh, I got you,” Geralt reassures gently, kissing the mating scar on Jaskier’s neck. “It’s alright. I got you now.”

Geralt rolls his hips for the first time, hitting the spot deep inside Jaskier that makes him scream with pleasure. So he does. Jaskier lets out a broken cry as his body follows Geralt’s movement, the muscles around his hole clenching tightly. After all the torment he’s endured, finally having Geralt fuck into him feels heavenly.

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier moans loudly. “You feel so good. So good. No one else can compare. Oh…”

Geralt groans at the words, driving deep into Jaskier.

His hole spasms around Geralt, chasing the sweet release as a climax builds quickly. Too quickly, perhaps. His breasts ache with tightness. The pain eases from his hole, but doubles its intensity in his chest. The milk streams down from the fullness, but the pressure only grows. Jaskier’s tits bounce as he rides Geralt’s cock, his hand barely providing any comfort.

“And you are good to me, Jask,” Geralt says between gasps. “Don’t worry a thing. I’ll take care of you.”

He takes Jaskier’s hand away and cups one breast, the shape filling his palm perfectly.

“G’ralt?”

Jaskier looks down as Geralt’s lips wrap around his pert nipple. The wet, heavenly warmth knocks all air out of his lungs. Geralt swipes his tongue around the overly sensitive nipple, lighting up every nerve in Jaskier’s body, and then, he starts sucking.

Jaskier comes like this, with Geralt sucking and kneading his breast gently. He shakes through the orgasm, moaning and heaving with abandon. The trembling makes his toes curl, his fingers curling around the hair at Geralt’s nape. A grunt rumbles out of the alpha’s chest, and the milk leaks from the corner of his lips.

“There,” Geralt breathes, a proud smile on his face.

But Jaskier’s other tit is still woefully ignored, the soreness not easing as the milk slowly drips. The mixture of pleasure on one side and pain on the other has him crying openly.

“Please…” Jaskier whimpers. “Still hurts. Too full…”

Geralt does not need to be told twice. He latches onto the other breast as Jaskier rocks forward on trembling legs, letting Geralt’s cock hit the spot deep inside him. He comes for the second time, harder and more violent than the first one, his cocklet squirting, untouched. Pleasure washes over him unrelentingly in wave after wave. He arches his back like a tightened bowstring, eyes rolling back, his hole fluttering around Geralt’s cock, slick and hot.

For a moment, Jaskier feels like he’ll be riding on this high forever.

Blood rings in his ears, and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. He nearly topples over if not for Geralt’s strong arm wrapped around his waist and bringing him closer. Jaskier ends up draped over Geralt’s shoulder, fevered skin clammy with sweat.

“Mm…” Jaskier says, intelligently, all thoughts fading in and out of the heat-induced haze that is his mind.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Geralt laps at his scent gland, soothing his over-stimulated body. He still has a hand cupping the side of Jaskier’s breast, thumb running small circles. “What do you need, Jask? Tell me what you need.”

Despite how full and hard Geralt’s cock is inside Jaskier, he still hasn’t popped the knot. Geralt still hasn’t come, having only focused on bringing Jaskier's release.

“Hmm, need you,” Jaskier murmurs, pressing wet kisses on Geralt’s neck, reveling in the safety of being touched all over by his alpha. “Need your knot.”

“Of course.”

Geralt pulls away and simply takes the time to look at Jaskier, meeting the omega’s dazed eyes. Whatever he finds on Jaskier’s face makes his expression soften, concern and adoration flowing in golden eyes. He looks down, pauses, and presses a kiss on Jaskier’s lips.

The kiss is so chaste it makes Jaskier’s inside all mushy.

“Oh,” he smiles. “Geralt…”

“Here, let’s get you comfortable.” With that, Geralt places a hand on Jaskier’s back, and the other cups his ass where he slapped the omega earlier. The skin there is all hot and angry, and Jaskier squirms uneasily at the contact. “Hush, it’s alright. Just lie down like this.”

Geralt lowers Jaskier into the nest that is piled with soft blankets, making sure his neck is supported with a pillow. He slips out of Jaskier from the movement, leaving the omega dripping and cold and empty, and a whine escapes Jaskier’s throat.

“Geralt, please. I’m…” Jaskier swallows. “I feel empty.”

Geralt is back in an instant, placing himself between Jaskier’s legs, supporting his own weight with arms on either side of Jaskier’s head.

“No need to beg, Jask. Not playing with you anymore,” he reassures, pushing into Jaskier once again. There’s barely any resistance from the slick and Jaskier’s fucked-open hole. They both let out a quiet grunt as Geralt bottoms out, tension leaving their bodies.

“Yes…” Jaskier gasps as Geralt fucks into him. His legs wrap behind Geralt’s back, bringing him impossibly close. “Just like this. Come for me. Knot me. I’m yours. Geralt, I’m all yours.”

“Jaskier…” Geralt picks up the pace, his cock swelling gradually inside Jaskier, the pressure making him see stars. “Mine. My omega. All mine.”

With a deep growl, Geralt buries deep into Jaskier, body going taut. He comes inside Jaskier and fills him pleasantly, his knot swelling to its full size right after. It brings Jaskier over the edge of another climax with the pressure of his alpha’s knot. He takes Geralt all in, milking him slowly as come and slick leak between them.

They stay there like this as everything calms down, panting in tandem. Geralt rests his weight on top of Jaskier, pressing him into the soft nest, nose buried under Jaskier’s chin and drinking in the sweet honey scent of his omega in heat. Jaskier keeps Geralt’s head there, fingers playing with his hair absently.

The burning energy quiets under Jaskier’s skin, the urgency of heat fading. He’s sated with Geralt’s knot full and heavy inside him, and it brings a grin to Jaskier’s face. The fever still makes his head spin, but it’s more with happiness than anything else.

“Alright?” Geralt asks gently, peppering small kisses on Jaskier’s shoulder, trailing down to the swell of his chest, soothing the omega’s hunger for touch. He then props himself up, silver hair framing his face like a waterfall. He watches Jaskier carefully with understanding in his eyes.

Jaskier blinks, nearly feeling giddy. His chest no longer hurts, and his body is all loosened up and relaxed, warmth spreading to the tips of his fingers.

“Of course, love,” he answers. “I’m alright.”

Geralt tucks a strand of stray hair behind Jaskier’s ear, cupping his flushed cheek. Jaskier nuzzles into his palm, seeking comfort. “I didn’t go too far? I didn’t…tease too much?”

Jaskier huffs, almost tugging at where they are connected by the knot. “You always tease too much, but it’s the good kind.” He touches one breast and gasps when brushing over the sensitive nipple. “I don’t think it would have been this nice if you hadn’t tried to tease me.”

“Hmm. Good to hear.” Geralt says under his breath, nearly in awe when he watches Jaskier. “As long as it’s worth it.”

Jaskier must look quite a sight, all wet and messy, stretched lazily in his nest. He feels grounded like this, with Geralt here, inside him and taking care of him. Distantly, he knows as soon as the knot goes down, the heat will return with intensity and demand more. His chest will become sore with milk again, and his fever will burn hot with desire.

But for now, they have a moment to simply exist.

“Yes,” Jaskier smiles, pulling Geralt closer so they can rest their foreheads together. “It was well worth it.”

[stuffthatbard]

Trick or treat! Jaskier/yennefer, pls!

it may be a year and a half late but idk i’m, uh. feeling the halloween spirit? 😬

prompt: fire play

-

The flame flickers, licking greedily at his chest. Jaskier lets out a choked gasp.

“Fire’s a funny thing,” comes the witch’s voice, the usual sharpness replaced by something smoky, dark. The subtlest gesture of delicate fingers sets the magical flame in motion, dancing gracefully down his bare torso, so close he knows any moment his hair will singe, but it doesn’t.

“Destructive, of course. No denying. But beautiful, too.”

The flame drifts further down until he can feel its heat, intolerable and delectable, against his cock. A fuse.

He can’t bear it. He pulls at her desperately until she laughs and straddles his face, facing the fire still burning dangerously close to his groin. She rocks against the eager tongue that laps at her, violet eyes still locked on her handiwork.

“See?” There’s a mocking edge to her drawl that has him as hot as the flame encircling his hard cock. “Beautiful.”

[stuffthatbard]

Ooooooooooo are you still taking the kink asks? How about the femdom til he cries one (#2 I think?) with Yenskier?

Thank you! ❤️❤️

(bdsm, yennefer/jaskier, explicit)

"Do you need it?" Yennefer's voice is soft, her grip on Jaskier's balls decidedly less so.

"Fuck," Jaskier forces through his teeth. "You know I do." He's trembling with how much, eyes unfocused, flushed strawberry-red to the middle of his chest.

This is the third orgasm that Yennefer has wrested from his grasp, and if Jaskier's hands weren't tied behind his back, he would be clawing at his own cock in desperation.

"You're not very good at begging, are you?" she has the gall to smirk, flicking open her dressing gown to throw a stockinged leg over Jaskier's hips, straddling him as he struggles to balance them both in the tottering chair.

"If it's begging you want," Jaskier pants, aching from his core with her nearness - smelling of sweet sweat and sex, her cunt still dripping with how ravenously he'd eaten her earlier. "Yennefer, please please please let me come, I-" he stutters as he feels Yennefer grinding the slick seam of her cunt forward, trapping his prick against his stomach as it weeps.

Jaskier realizes that he's tearing up too when he feels the press of Yennefer's lips against his hot cheeks.

"My bard," Yennefer sighs as she yanks Jaskier's head back by his hair, leaving him to pant at the ceiling as she sinks down onto his tortured cock.

She rides Jaskier at her pleasure, making the chair creak dangerously, sucking marks along his neck until his famous silver tongue is reduced to single syllables and less.

Yen. Yen, Yen-

The sweet weight of her. The flex of her thighs around his hips. The tug of her sharp teeth against the shell of his ear. Jaskier would have spilled thricefold if it hadn't been for Yennefer's magic gripping the base of his cock in a vise.

Jaskier feels Yennefer's peak before she even seems aware of it herself - the sucking, clenching muscles deep in her cunt driving him wild, bucking up in the chair as much as his bonds would allow. Yennefer sinks her teeth into Jaskier's bottom lip as she comes. He tastes himself in her mouth.

Incredibly, the chair holds.

In the aftermath, they breathe as one creature. Jaskier feels lightheaded, holding a lapful of panting witch and almost as satisfied as if he had himself completed.

Almost.

"My bard," Yennefer pushes herself up to look at him, smiling fondly as she cradles his wet face between his palms. "You did well." The magic words make Jaskier shake, bucking up once, twice before he spills for her, inside her, his tears dripping through her fingers.

[stuffthatbard]

re: groping, older geralt groping babysitter jaskier?

Oh absolutely.

Geralt hires college Jaskier to babysit Ciri as he’s out for the evening, a hefty sum of cash for the convenience and some takeouts in Jaskier’s hand as he arrives at the doorsteps. Geralt ushers him inside for a quick rundown, showing him the house and all that, eyes lingering a little too long on the lithe man’s behind as he takes the lead into rooms and asks questions.

It’s been months since he had a good lay, and he can really feel it as his mind wanders while the younger man speaks, cheerful and talkative while Geralt wants nothing more than to put those plush lips to better use. Jaskier opens the fridge when prompted and Geralt leans in close behind him as he explains that the man is free to take whatever he pleases would the takeouts not be enough, taking in the scent of the man’s perfume for just a second. He can feel how Jaskier freeze up just barely at his close proximity, but not enough to seem all too uncomfortable. Geralt lets the crotch of his trousers brush up just so against his soft arse, disengaging the second later as Jaskier responds with a nervous laugh.

“Are you the new babysitter?”

Geralt smiles to himself at the timing, scooping up his little angel and carrying her over to Jaskier.

“Yes, dear, he will be making sure you are safe tonight.” The other man seems to have completely discounted the scene Geralt caused as he saw Ciri’s tiny arms reach out towards him, gently switching to hold her in his arms and with a practiced movement propping her up against his hip. As the switch occurs, Geralt let’s his hand brush along Jaskier’s waist, immediately aware of how he must have been made to be gripped and manhandled while someone fucked into him.

“You better behave,” he says as he walks out the door, his daughter nodding and smiling. Yet, his eyes stayed fixed on Jaskier’s, a smirk on his lips as he turned to leave. “or else daddy will find out.”

[stuffthatbard]

babysitter jaskier 1/?

From the discord! I word vomited 2k in an hour so here you go, more to hopefully follow

CW: HEAVY transphobia, teen underage, underage drinking and implied drugging/intoxication, forced feminization/forced detransitioning, dubcon/noncon, bad guy geralt, voyeurism, humiliation, slight mention of urinating but not like sexy or anything

--

teenage jaskier who's in the process of transitioning, has a lot of body issues and such, but his parents are supportive and have allowed him to start taking T and bought him new clothes and such

he gets a job babysitting ciri after school while her single father, geralt, is at work

ciri is a great kid, and her dad is super nice, and lets jaskier order them pizza with his card and stuff like that. ciri goes to bed pretty early, too, which means that jaskier usually has 8-12ish to himself until mr. rivia gets home

he does his homework, watches some TV, texts his friends, whatever he wants basically

mr. rivia even lets him use the shower so that he doesn't have to go home and shower before bed. midnight is pretty late for a high school student

it isn't an issue until one day geralt comes home earlier than usual, off work early for whatever reason. jaskier doesn't hear him over the fan in the bathroom, and geralt, thinking jaskier is watching tv in the living room, walks into the bathroom and gets an eyeful of jaskier stepping out of the shower and drying off

jaskier panics, geralt shuts the door immediately, but the damage is done. plus his secret is out: there's no way geralt didn't see his perky tits and thatch of curls just above his cunt

jaskier dries off and gets dressed shakily, but he can't hide in the bathroom forever; he slowly creeps out, dreading having to confront mr. rivia, but the man is nowhere to be seen. jaskier gathers his stuff and scampers out, grabbing the wad of cash mr. rivia left on the counter on his way out, and heads home

(unbeknownst to him, geralt immediately headed upstairs to jerk off to the image of jaskier, wet and skin flushed, looking at geralt with those wide, scared eyes)

jaskier isn't sure what he expects tomorrow, but he goes to school like normal, and gets a text during his lunch period from geralt. are you still coming today?

jaskier hesitates before typing out a yes. hopefully this means that mr. rivia has chosen to forget and ignore the incident entirely? god, jaskier is mortified, but hopefully they never have to bring it up again. mr. rivia has always been a man of few words anyway

he shows up after school, has a good time with ciri, puts her to bed like normal, and then waits. he has no indication of when mr. rivia will get home, if he'll be coming home early like last night or what

in fact, he's barely put ciri to bed when he hears mr. rivia's truck pulling up. he starts to gather his things, preparing to leave, rehearsing what he'll say when mr. rivia walks in. "how was work? great, ciri was great, no trouble, seeyoumondaybye"

instead, mr. rivia walks in, sees jaskier sitting on the couch, and sits down next to him. "jaskier, about last night..."

jaskier blushes crimson. fuck. "i-i'm so sorry, i didn't know you were going to come home early, i-i--"

"it's alright," geralt replies easily, "you don't have to be embarrassed. i'm sorry if i scared you."

jaskier shakes his head. "um, it's alright, i was just surprised."

"i didn't know you were... transitioning," geralt says carefully, and oh fuck. fuck fuck fuck. has he just lost his job? no, mr. rivia wouldn't have had him come over today, would he? oh fuck, is mr. rivia going to tell everyone? it's not a huge secret but it's not something he wants hanging over him...

"uh--yeah, i, um, started a little over a year ago. my parents have helped a lot," jaskier forces out, unsure where mr. rivia is taking this.

"i see," mr. rivia says cryptically, then reaches into his pocket and counts out jaskier's pay. "here you go."

jaskier takes it. "but this is--this is for the full eight hours, i've only been here for four..."

"keep it. i'll see you on monday?"

"y-yeah, that would be great..." then jaskier remembers: monday is a holiday. "but wait, don't you have the day off?"

mr. rivia thinks. "guess i do. but you're welcome to come over anyway. ciri and i might go out to dinner, if you want to join us? i don't know, you probably have a dozen friends all begging to go out with you, as cute as you are," he grins.

jaskier squirms a little. mr. rivia doesn't mean anything by that, right? he means cute like little kids are cute, even though jaskier is a teenager.

"i don't have any plans, no..." jaskier answers. "you know i like spending time with ciri. what time should i come over?"

mr. rivia gives him a time and sees him out the door, wishing him a good weekend. jaskier drives home feeling a little bit buzzed, shaky with the adrenaline after their conversation but strangely anticipating monday. it's not often, if ever, he gets to spend time with mr. rivia and ciri together.

come monday, jaskier drives over to mr. rivia's house and the man drives all three of them to a nice restaurant outside of town. he even insists on paying for jaskier's meal, which makes jaskier stammer and blush. he has a job, he can pay... even if it is still mr. rivia's money in a way. at the end of the meal, jaskier excuses himself to the restroom, as always hesitating a moment before choosing the men's room. he prays he meets nobody else in there, and it seems he's in luck

he chooses a stall and pees as quickly as possible, just finishing up when he hears the door swing open and heavy boots approach. they stop in front of a urinal, and jaskier flushes and goes to wash his hands as quickly as possible, steadfastly not looking at the man standing there urinating

"jaskier? what are you doing in here?" the sudden growl of mr. rivia's voice shocks jaskier. fuck, can this get more awkward?

"j-just washing my hands," jaskier says laughing a little and casting about frantically for a paper towel. why do restaurants never have any fucking paper towels?

he makes a split second decision and wipes his hands on his jeans, and is just about to open the door when mr. rivia speaks again.

((i had something for him to say and forgot it, but insert something mildly transphobic and demeaning and vaguely sexual here))

jaskier goes back to the table with his face red as a tomato, wishing desperately to leave. mr. rivia saunters out of the bathroom a few minutes later, spinning his keys around his finger. "ready to leave, kiddos?"

jaskier was intent on going back home as soon as they arrived back at the house, but mr. rivia suggests that he stick around for a movie night. ciri seems so excited by the prospect, so he agrees, even though he knows she'll fall asleep not even thirty minutes in.

sure enough, mr. rivia has to carry her to bed only a little bit into the movie. jaskier sits on the couch, not sure if he should leave or not, only half watching, waiting for mr. rivia to get back

when he returns, he has two beers in his hands. he offers one to jaskier, who hesitantly takes it. he's drank before, but he still has a laughably low tolerance to alcohol. but if mr. rivia is offering him a beer, that means he respects and trusts jaskier, right? besides, it's not like jaskier is working, and this will prove that jaskier is mature enough to be treated like an adult.

mr. rivia nods in approval, then sits down close to jaskier on the couch, like uncomfortably close, but not enough to justify jaskier scooching over. jaskier sits there, tense, but mr. rivia seems engrossed in the movie. jaskier forces himself to relax and try to enjoy it

the movie is just about to wrap up when mr. rivia stretches and drapes his arm over jaskier's shoulders, a move straight out of a cheesy romance movie. jaskier kind of wants to die of embarrassment

as the credits roll, mr. rivia removes his arm, instead dropping his hand to jaskier's thigh, where he moves it up and down a little. "what did you think?"

"w-what?"

"the movie. what did you think?" his thumb hasn't stopped moving, slow, sensual circles creeping up his leg.

"i, uh, i liked it. i think i better go now," jaskier forces out, praying and wishing for geralt to let him up so he can leave.

"it's so late, though. and you had that drink. you should spend the night, i don't mind. plus ciri would love to have a pancake breakfast with you in the morning," mr. rivia urges.

jaskier finds himself agreeing, and is convinced it's the right decision when he stands and wobbles a bit. "whoa there," mr. rivia laughs. "you little lightweight."

jaskier gives a nervous laugh. "one beer doesn't normally hit me so fast."

"it's okay, i'll take care of you," mr. rivia replies easily, and leads him to the spare room. "there are pajamas in the dresser if you want to borrow them. i'll come check on you in the morning, see if you want a painkiller or some water."

jaskier doubts he'll have that much of a hangover if at all, but he says goodnight and closes the bedroom door. it's a struggle to get undressed, his fingers clumsy with intoxication, but he finally manages to peel his jeans and shirt off and stands there in just his underwear and binder.

he stumbles over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer, slamming it shut immediately when his eyes land on its contents. lingerie. pink, frilly, girly lingerie. this must be where mr. rivia's girlfriends stay. he pulls open another drawer and finds the same, and when he pulls open a third and reveals various accoutrements like padded handcuffs, he squeaks and gives up. he does not want to dig through all that just for some pajamas, thank you very much.

he resigns himself to sleeping in boxers and a t shirt, but hesitates. he's really tempted to sleep in his binder, especially because mr. rivia will be checking on him in the morning and he doesn't want him to see that, but he knows how dangerous it can be and doesn't want to risk permanent harm to his body. cringing, jaskier takes it off, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

he quickly pulls his t shirt back on and climbs under the covers, grateful for the way his head stops spinning when he lies down. he expects to fall asleep quickly, with how he feels, but he lies there for some time unable to close his eyes. every squeak and creak the house makes sounds like someone just outside his door, and it keeps startling jaskier awake again

there's also a faint mechanical whirring coming from somewhere above him--maybe the air conditioner? whatever the noise is, it's a long time before jaskier finally falls asleep.

yes that's geralt outside his door and yes that's a camera planted in the room, just like there's one in the bathroom

--

If you have ideas for this verse my inbox is open! Also more interaction means more motivation for me to write more :D

[stuffthatbard]

babysitter jaskier 1/?

From the discord! I word vomited 2k in an hour so here you go, more to hopefully follow

CW: HEAVY transphobia, teen underage, underage drinking and implied drugging/intoxication, forced feminization/forced detransitioning, dubcon/noncon, bad guy geralt, voyeurism, humiliation, slight mention of urinating but not like sexy or anything

--

teenage jaskier who's in the process of transitioning, has a lot of body issues and such, but his parents are supportive and have allowed him to start taking T and bought him new clothes and such

he gets a job babysitting ciri after school while her single father, geralt, is at work

ciri is a great kid, and her dad is super nice, and lets jaskier order them pizza with his card and stuff like that. ciri goes to bed pretty early, too, which means that jaskier usually has 8-12ish to himself until mr. rivia gets home

he does his homework, watches some TV, texts his friends, whatever he wants basically

mr. rivia even lets him use the shower so that he doesn't have to go home and shower before bed. midnight is pretty late for a high school student

it isn't an issue until one day geralt comes home earlier than usual, off work early for whatever reason. jaskier doesn't hear him over the fan in the bathroom, and geralt, thinking jaskier is watching tv in the living room, walks into the bathroom and gets an eyeful of jaskier stepping out of the shower and drying off

jaskier panics, geralt shuts the door immediately, but the damage is done. plus his secret is out: there's no way geralt didn't see his perky tits and thatch of curls just above his cunt

jaskier dries off and gets dressed shakily, but he can't hide in the bathroom forever; he slowly creeps out, dreading having to confront mr. rivia, but the man is nowhere to be seen. jaskier gathers his stuff and scampers out, grabbing the wad of cash mr. rivia left on the counter on his way out, and heads home

(unbeknownst to him, geralt immediately headed upstairs to jerk off to the image of jaskier, wet and skin flushed, looking at geralt with those wide, scared eyes)

jaskier isn't sure what he expects tomorrow, but he goes to school like normal, and gets a text during his lunch period from geralt. are you still coming today?

jaskier hesitates before typing out a yes. hopefully this means that mr. rivia has chosen to forget and ignore the incident entirely? god, jaskier is mortified, but hopefully they never have to bring it up again. mr. rivia has always been a man of few words anyway

he shows up after school, has a good time with ciri, puts her to bed like normal, and then waits. he has no indication of when mr. rivia will get home, if he'll be coming home early like last night or what

in fact, he's barely put ciri to bed when he hears mr. rivia's truck pulling up. he starts to gather his things, preparing to leave, rehearsing what he'll say when mr. rivia walks in. "how was work? great, ciri was great, no trouble, seeyoumondaybye"

instead, mr. rivia walks in, sees jaskier sitting on the couch, and sits down next to him. "jaskier, about last night..."

jaskier blushes crimson. fuck. "i-i'm so sorry, i didn't know you were going to come home early, i-i--"

"it's alright," geralt replies easily, "you don't have to be embarrassed. i'm sorry if i scared you."

jaskier shakes his head. "um, it's alright, i was just surprised."

"i didn't know you were... transitioning," geralt says carefully, and oh fuck. fuck fuck fuck. has he just lost his job? no, mr. rivia wouldn't have had him come over today, would he? oh fuck, is mr. rivia going to tell everyone? it's not a huge secret but it's not something he wants hanging over him...

"uh--yeah, i, um, started a little over a year ago. my parents have helped a lot," jaskier forces out, unsure where mr. rivia is taking this.

"i see," mr. rivia says cryptically, then reaches into his pocket and counts out jaskier's pay. "here you go."

jaskier takes it. "but this is--this is for the full eight hours, i've only been here for four..."

"keep it. i'll see you on monday?"

"y-yeah, that would be great..." then jaskier remembers: monday is a holiday. "but wait, don't you have the day off?"

mr. rivia thinks. "guess i do. but you're welcome to come over anyway. ciri and i might go out to dinner, if you want to join us? i don't know, you probably have a dozen friends all begging to go out with you, as cute as you are," he grins.

jaskier squirms a little. mr. rivia doesn't mean anything by that, right? he means cute like little kids are cute, even though jaskier is a teenager.

"i don't have any plans, no..." jaskier answers. "you know i like spending time with ciri. what time should i come over?"

mr. rivia gives him a time and sees him out the door, wishing him a good weekend. jaskier drives home feeling a little bit buzzed, shaky with the adrenaline after their conversation but strangely anticipating monday. it's not often, if ever, he gets to spend time with mr. rivia and ciri together.

come monday, jaskier drives over to mr. rivia's house and the man drives all three of them to a nice restaurant outside of town. he even insists on paying for jaskier's meal, which makes jaskier stammer and blush. he has a job, he can pay... even if it is still mr. rivia's money in a way. at the end of the meal, jaskier excuses himself to the restroom, as always hesitating a moment before choosing the men's room. he prays he meets nobody else in there, and it seems he's in luck

he chooses a stall and pees as quickly as possible, just finishing up when he hears the door swing open and heavy boots approach. they stop in front of a urinal, and jaskier flushes and goes to wash his hands as quickly as possible, steadfastly not looking at the man standing there urinating

"jaskier? what are you doing in here?" the sudden growl of mr. rivia's voice shocks jaskier. fuck, can this get more awkward?

"j-just washing my hands," jaskier says laughing a little and casting about frantically for a paper towel. why do restaurants never have any fucking paper towels?

he makes a split second decision and wipes his hands on his jeans, and is just about to open the door when mr. rivia speaks again.

((i had something for him to say and forgot it, but insert something mildly transphobic and demeaning and vaguely sexual here))

jaskier goes back to the table with his face red as a tomato, wishing desperately to leave. mr. rivia saunters out of the bathroom a few minutes later, spinning his keys around his finger. "ready to leave, kiddos?"

jaskier was intent on going back home as soon as they arrived back at the house, but mr. rivia suggests that he stick around for a movie night. ciri seems so excited by the prospect, so he agrees, even though he knows she'll fall asleep not even thirty minutes in.

sure enough, mr. rivia has to carry her to bed only a little bit into the movie. jaskier sits on the couch, not sure if he should leave or not, only half watching, waiting for mr. rivia to get back

when he returns, he has two beers in his hands. he offers one to jaskier, who hesitantly takes it. he's drank before, but he still has a laughably low tolerance to alcohol. but if mr. rivia is offering him a beer, that means he respects and trusts jaskier, right? besides, it's not like jaskier is working, and this will prove that jaskier is mature enough to be treated like an adult.

mr. rivia nods in approval, then sits down close to jaskier on the couch, like uncomfortably close, but not enough to justify jaskier scooching over. jaskier sits there, tense, but mr. rivia seems engrossed in the movie. jaskier forces himself to relax and try to enjoy it

the movie is just about to wrap up when mr. rivia stretches and drapes his arm over jaskier's shoulders, a move straight out of a cheesy romance movie. jaskier kind of wants to die of embarrassment

as the credits roll, mr. rivia removes his arm, instead dropping his hand to jaskier's thigh, where he moves it up and down a little. "what did you think?"

"w-what?"

"the movie. what did you think?" his thumb hasn't stopped moving, slow, sensual circles creeping up his leg.

"i, uh, i liked it. i think i better go now," jaskier forces out, praying and wishing for geralt to let him up so he can leave.

"it's so late, though. and you had that drink. you should spend the night, i don't mind. plus ciri would love to have a pancake breakfast with you in the morning," mr. rivia urges.

jaskier finds himself agreeing, and is convinced it's the right decision when he stands and wobbles a bit. "whoa there," mr. rivia laughs. "you little lightweight."

jaskier gives a nervous laugh. "one beer doesn't normally hit me so fast."

"it's okay, i'll take care of you," mr. rivia replies easily, and leads him to the spare room. "there are pajamas in the dresser if you want to borrow them. i'll come check on you in the morning, see if you want a painkiller or some water."

jaskier doubts he'll have that much of a hangover if at all, but he says goodnight and closes the bedroom door. it's a struggle to get undressed, his fingers clumsy with intoxication, but he finally manages to peel his jeans and shirt off and stands there in just his underwear and binder.

he stumbles over to the dresser and pulls open a drawer, slamming it shut immediately when his eyes land on its contents. lingerie. pink, frilly, girly lingerie. this must be where mr. rivia's girlfriends stay. he pulls open another drawer and finds the same, and when he pulls open a third and reveals various accoutrements like padded handcuffs, he squeaks and gives up. he does not want to dig through all that just for some pajamas, thank you very much.

he resigns himself to sleeping in boxers and a t shirt, but hesitates. he's really tempted to sleep in his binder, especially because mr. rivia will be checking on him in the morning and he doesn't want him to see that, but he knows how dangerous it can be and doesn't want to risk permanent harm to his body. cringing, jaskier takes it off, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

he quickly pulls his t shirt back on and climbs under the covers, grateful for the way his head stops spinning when he lies down. he expects to fall asleep quickly, with how he feels, but he lies there for some time unable to close his eyes. every squeak and creak the house makes sounds like someone just outside his door, and it keeps startling jaskier awake again

there's also a faint mechanical whirring coming from somewhere above him--maybe the air conditioner? whatever the noise is, it's a long time before jaskier finally falls asleep.

yes that's geralt outside his door and yes that's a camera planted in the room, just like there's one in the bathroom

--

If you have ideas for this verse my inbox is open! Also more interaction means more motivation for me to write more :D

[stuffthatbard]

Welcome back!

Let's see how long this lasts.

Feel free to hit me with your newest Honey thoughts, everyone.

[stuffthatbard]

(yenskier, dubcon mind control, femdom, mature)

Keep reading

[stuffthatbard]

after yen loses her powers in the battle of sodden, she becomes terrified of intimacy. without her magic, how can she guarantee the men she lies with won't hurt her, won't take advantage of her? won't force her--

then she meets jaskier in oxenfurt. they dance around each other for a bit, yennefer wanting but too afraid to go for it and jaskier too appreciative of their newfound... friendship?? to test yen's boundaries further

until finally something snaps and they fall into bed with each other. everything is going well, until yen suddenly panics and freezes

jaskier talks her down, asks what's wrong... yen manages to tell jaskier what's going on with her

jaskier is super understanding. he doesn't mind waiting until yen gets her powers back, if she still wants him then... but if she really wants him right now, jaskier might have a solution....

cue jaskier gagged, blindfolded and totally tied up so that he cannot move at all, much less hurt yennefer in any way

while yen rides his cock like he's just a toy for her to get off with

at first yen thinks jaskier just tolerates her whims to get his dick wet. but then she orders him not to cum because she's not there yet and she can feel him twitching in his restraints, and even though there's no reason for him to listen to her, he just. groans and holds himself back

and it's just so clear that he's loving it

so the next time she tells him he doesn't have to use the gag and lets him eat her out which jaskier of course does happily

then he's allowed to go without the blindfold, and then even later yen forgoes the restraints, step by step learning to trust jaskier and also gaining the confidence that she can love and be loved even without her chaos...

of course, even with the restraints gone, jaskier is still a good obedient sub, lying back and holding perfectly still whenever yennefer wants him to, nothing more than a toy for yen to get off with.

[stuffthatbard]

Concept: Jaskier’s 100% chill w/ Geralt fucking him when he needs it, Jask loving waking up and falling asleep full. Geralt’s completely animalistic, even when they’re travelling with other people, Yen this time round. she would never say she’s fond of them but when she wakes up to Jaskier sobbing, alarm bells ring until she recognises the hand covering Jaskier’s mouth, his pleads to “keep going don’t stop fill me up” still audible. Who’s to say Yen doesn’t enjoy the show?

First time writing yenn/geralt/jask and it’s porn, ofc it is lmao. Hope you like it! Also yenn was that one persons who gets called out to volunteer from the audience but she volunteered herself and she enjoyed it.

Tags: somnophila, mild dubcon (jask is shy, may be interpreted as uncomfortable ig), biting, messy kissing, cunnilingus

——

Jaskier's eyes flutter open, a moan on his lips as he clenches around the the cock in his ass. He's flipped onto his stomach, palms spread over his hips, fingers digging into his soft skin as he's dragged back and forth while the cock pumps into him.

Geralt snarls in his ear before tightening his grip and oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck— 

"What— what a pleasant surpri—" he yelp with Geralt snaps his jaws in front of his face, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he fucks down into him faster.

"Shut up," he growls, and Jaskier can't hide his sob, Yennefer's tent a bare couple meters away as his body's dragged back to meet Geralt's thrusts, the soft, worn material of the witcher's tunic brushing against oversensitive skin. He fucking loves this, falling asleep to gentle movements of Geralt rocking into him, lulled by the comfort of his witcher looming over him and waking up to Geralt fucking mauling him, snarling and spitting, entirely wolf-like.

"Ger—" His voice cracks, rough from sleep, muffled as Geralt presses a hand over his mouth. Jaskier forgets the world, eyes rolling back into his head as Geralt shifts his hips, snapping his hips forward like a man dying, desperate and uncaring. Unfortunately, this also means that Jaskier forgets to breathe. 

Jaskier cums with a gasp and a sob, so loud that it hurts his ears, his body shuddering and limp as Geralt turns him over. The opening of Yenn's tent swishes open out of the corner of his eye.

"Geralt— Ger—" 

He whines as his alpha nips at his neck in warning, arm slung over his face to hide how red its become as Yenn walks closer to them. Jaskier feels so fucking raw, naked as Geralt fucks into him and Yennefer stares down with a dry look.

He can't fucking face her, not when his legs are spread, limp, spent cock laying against his stomach as Geralt pounds into him without even acknowledging her, spit dripping between grit teeth as he fucks with single minded focus.

"Huh. I was worried you'd gotten into trouble you couldn't handle." Jaskier moans as an errant thrust hits his prostate, back arching and fuck, he wants to disappear. "Maybe you have." 

Jask flushes harder at that, in indignation rather than shame— "Why, I don't see you letting a— ah, ah ah ah fuck Geralt— a witcher ram into day and n— night." 

"It's because I have self respect, Jaskier. Besides, you don't look had bad, cock-dumb, nothing but a cocksleeve—" she magics herself a blanket some feet away, ever the sorceress, and Jaskier shudders as Geralt digs his fingers into his jaw, pulling him into a kiss of teeth, tongue, and spit, nipping at his lips before holding his jaw open.

Geralt stares down at him, eyes wild, skin lined with sweat as one hand holds his hips up, the other's thumb pressing down on the inside of his cheek to keep his mouth open.

"Swallow," he growls, and Jaskier can barely think as the witcher spits into his mouth. A string of it connects them as Jaskier stares up at him, breathless as he swallows. "Fuck—" and they're kissing again, Jaskier's hands in Geralt's hair, holding him closes and bucking back against him as desperate whimpers escape his lips.

He's brought out of their mindless tongue-fucking as he hears another moan, head snapping towards Yenn, who's lost her trousers, white blouse unbuttoned to show off her chest, legs parted as she fucks herself with her fingers. Oddest of all, her violet eyes are trained on him, her gaze running down his thickly-haired chest to his half hard cock and where his balls slap against Geralt's with every thrust. 

Jaskier swears he's died and gone to hell because a very scary, very sexy sorceress is watching him be fucking mauled by his lover, getting off to it, to him— just fucking enjoying the show. Sure, he's a bard, adores attention, but two very powerful beings have their sights set on him and he feels oh-so exposed as Geralt drags him up to sit on his cock, the witcher knelt underneath him. Jaskier circles his arms around Geralt's shoulders, hiding his face into the witcher's neck. 

"You okay?" His voice is so deep and they're pressed so close together Jaskier can feel it in his own chest. 

"Yes—" Jask manages to choke out, because he is, thriving and flushed under violet-amber gazes. He plants his feet, bounces in time Geralt's thrusts, tensing his ass becaue lords, how long has Geralt been fucking him.

Jaskier ruts against the witcher's clothed stomach, stilling as he cums, slack and limp as he drapes across Geralt's torso, letting the witcher fuck into him once, twice before he feels hot cum fill into him with a growl and a bite to his neck, a weak cry escaping the bard's lips as Geralt's teeth sink into his skin. 

Jaskier startles as he feels a hand against his shoulder, relaxing when he realizes it's only Yenn before blushing red again as she runs a hand through his hair, guiding his mouth to her cunt. 

Jaskier moans, still sat on Geralt's laps with his softening cock in his ass—she's so fucking sweet, wet from just watching them. "All coy for me now, Jaskier?"

What does his woman do to him, reduces him to a blushy, stuttering mess. She chuckles and shoves his face closer as he laps sat her clit and buries his head into her cunt— she cums with a cut-off moan, fingers tugging at his hair as he work through her orgasm. He’s breathless as he pulls away, only to have Geralt pull him into a kiss, sharing Yen's taste between them as his hips buck into Jaskier, cock half hard.

He grins as he pulls away, palms flat against Geralt's sternum as he looks at him, "That's enough, Wolf. Melitele— did you even sleep last night."

Geralt grunts, glancing at Yenn as she goes to redress and slip into her tent, leaving them be and likely trying to figure out how she ended up attracted to the most “irritating bard on the Continent.” He stifles a snicker at that.

"Couldn't stop fucking you, you've got a whore's ass." Jaskier laughs as he stands, lets Geralt's cock slip out of him, the witcher's cum running down his legs.

"You gave me a whore's ass, fucking me day and night, ridiculous man." 

"You love it." 

And dammit, he does.