Geralt has sure heard many, many times before Jaskier's songs about him. They were hopeless, badly veiled declaration of intention. Jaskier only barely managed to keep in check his passion for the witcher when he wrote and sung them. Now that they're in a relationship and he might catch more of the double meaning, Geralt only has to remember some of the lyrics to be reassured of Jaskier's true feelings if he ever doubts them. Geralt deserves all the love he can get and more, deserves praise and to be remembered in history. Jaskier knows it's only a matter of time until that happens.
Geralt might realize now why the brunette enjoys riding him so much. The position is one of the best to really help to feel your partner, gravity doing wonders to the rolling of the hips. He doesn't care if Geralt doesn't last, it's already been wonderful, and that would make him more proud than anything. Jaskier bits his bottom lip, hard enough he could taste the coppery tartness of blood, and whimpers under his breath as Geralt admits that they own one another. It has taken them a long way to get here, so the admission and it's true meaning pulls a smile out of him, honest and full of love.
All those years of wanting have been sharpened to a hot point of desire focused on where his hands direct and slide across Geralt's body. It feels like he might burst, like he might float away into the sky, and he doesn’t know what’s got him so dizzy. Jaskier is not normally like this, but they normally don't fuck this way either, so it feels justified to be out of his element, overjoyed.
With his heart racing in his chest, he laps at the over-stimulated nub, clamping his teeth down Geralt's nipple and pulling, aiming to draw out a groan from the Witcher's lips. He would grin if his mouth weren’t busy. One of his hands squeezes the base of the man's dick, stroking it intermittently as his tongue flutters over the sensitive skin at Geralt's chest. Jaskier keeps it to light, soft strokes with the pad of his fingers, enough to feel good and tease but not to finish him off.
Then his lips trail up the man's collarbone and neck, aim to sucks a red mark onto his throat. He looks up to meet Geralt's eyes again when the man asks something from him - not demand, ask-, looking so gorgeous that Jaskier's heart is melting. It's like Geralt was born to fit in there, born to lean in and whisper it in his ear, to grind down on his cock, and trape him with his thighs. And who is Jaskier to deny him anything? He's not that kind of fool.He presses his forehead back against the other man, too breathless for a kiss, and charmed by the affectionate gesture.
"Anything you want, love."
It's easier to comply immediately, snapping his hips up, fingers leaving finger-shaped bruises on Geralt’s skin. Every time the other man grunts or sinks his nail on the wood of the bedposts before moaning, Jaskier shudders with the realization that it is because of him. He loses track of how many times he thrusts, how many needy little gasps he fucks out of Geralt with the force of them. He moans too, loud and needy, when a wave of sickeningly sweet pleasure surged through his body and the hand that isn't directing Geralt's hips, the one wrapped around his cock, squeezes and jerks him in tandem with the thrusts.
He could feel the pressure in his groin building, as Geralt's movements brought him so close to climax to the point it was on the edge of painful, but he wanted his lover to
“Geralt,” Jaskier says in between pants, smiling up at him. "Let go."
no worries!!! just assumed you were busy it's allll good
Jaskier's songs have always been borderline suggestive when it came to the way he saw his muse. He spent far too much time detailing the gold of Geralt's eyes or his hair or his body. That's the type of thing people expect from a love song, so there's been a touch of that from the start. It used to confuse him, since frankly no one had openly lusted for Geralt like that before. Eventually Jaskier's want was so open and appealing that Geralt gave into him for it.
He didn't know that he wanted to be wanted so much. That the bard's adoration for him opened up something in his heart he didn't expect or even thought he desired. Jaskier saw his scars and his violence and his gruff impatience and bore all of it, loved all of him. Geralt isn't as free with his emotions so he's giving all of himself back this way. Jaskier's won him. His reward is getting ridden like a stallion.
He does groan at the harsh bite at his nipple paired together with stimulating strokes to his hungry cock. His plea is fulfilled immediately and all Geralt can do is hold on and enjoy it. And he does. His entire body feels like it's on fire with need, tensed up tight from an overabundance of pleasure, barely breathing in quick gasps whenever Jaskier thrusts up into him. He must have whispered harder at some point but he's uncertain, in a fog of feeling. His nails are digging into his own bed back board so at least he's the only one who has to worry about that. Or they both do, as it's their bed. He'll just smirk at the marks later. It's a compliment.
He is impressed by Jaskier's stamina but he might have saved up his strength for when Geralt let him have all of him. Geralt can feel him struggling and he nods, kissing him sloppily. It doesn't last since they have to breathe, but his hands abruptly move to cup Jaskier's face, tilting it up at him. He leans back just a little. "Look at me." No longer forehead to forehead since it's not easy to see there, instead he locks gold with blue again. "Come in me. Claim me."
Permission given, Geralt makes direct eye contact as he finally allows his strained and weeping body relief. He's avoided Jaskier's gaze before and now he's being brave, showing that he can, he can choose this, he can be in this moment with him. He comes all over Jaskier's chest and belly which is exactly what he means by claim, his scent covering him. His eyes go from dizzy to bliss and he whispers Jaskier's name over and over again like a quiet prayer.
That too, yes, because what is free time. Still, sorry and thanks for being so patient ♥
If asked, Jaskier would argue that giving details about Geralt's good looks was key. If people knew about his appearance beforehand, they would be less likely to freak out and more willing to approach him if they were in need of a Witcher's service. If that fact also gave the bard the perfect excuse to compliment the man to his heart content, it was a win.win situation.
He doesn't have to mask his intention with music and embellished lyrics anymore and it is so much more rewarding to be able to call Geralt endearments to his face without getting a grunt in response. Not like the grunts aren't sexy, more so in situations like these where clothes had long been forgotten, but they share a level of comfort and trust now that Jaskier had been longing for all his life.
His way of showing Geralt his admiration is to grab a fistful of his hair and tug just the right way with one hand while the other slides up his cock and rubs a thumb under the cockhead. Let it not be said that Jaskier isn't good at multitasking. He gets lost in their lovemaking too, the kiss, the shared breath and loud moans, along with the distance sounds of the bed shaking under their assault. If the other witchers had any doubts about the nature of their relationship, those must be answered now. Later, he will now doubt spots the marks on the bed and laugh, it will be enough to keep him grinning with pride all week.
Jaskier sucks in a breath when Geralt speaks, eyes lost in golden suns that are staring back at him, and he's at a loss for words. "Geralt." Jaskier isn't one who has strong spiritual belief but he mutters the Witcher's name in a way akin to a prayer, feels Geralt coming and shaking on tops of him as his own religious experience. He rocks his hips harder to help Geralt ride out his orgasm and it doesn't take Jaskier more than a couple of trusts to follow him, pushed over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm.
His hands has moved to hold onto scarred hips with such force he's leaving little crescent moon marks on Geralt's skin. Jaskier growls his name, it's hard to describe the sounds he makes in a different way, over and over and over between gasps and moans. When the white behind his eyelids retreats and that familiar coil tightening in his abdomen eases, Jaskier's half-lidded eyes regard Geralt and he leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. They're both too out of breath for proper kisses. His cheeks are flushed and his chest glistening from exertion as well as the stains of their lovemaking.
"You look utterly debauched." The bard teases with pride in his voice, knowing far too well that he doesn't look any better.
On the road, after their relationship truly began, there were moments where he would sit silently at the back of a tavern and simply listened to Jaskier's singing. And then there were times when he would get up and catch the bard's eyes, the two of them having a conversation through their gaze alone. He found it attractive to hear what Jaskier had to say about him, knowing he meant it and it wasn't empty pie filling. It was very real.
So is this. Jaskier's tug on his hair causes him to growl and bite Jaskier's lower lip. The witchers already knew about the two of them. It may be sometime since Geralt got to mark his scent, but Jaskier still smelled like him to a trained nose. Now he is satisfied to make it clearer. He is still not loud in bed the way Jaskier is but he loves those moans, the bed moving underneath them in a clear rock, and he plans on more of it. Gods he's missed this. He's missed Jaskier's taste under his tongue, the tight clench of his fingers in Geralt's sides, the way the bard simply let go.
He is lost in bliss for a few seconds, his eyes closing after they've both come and simply living in it. He makes a satisfied little hmmm as he memorizes the sounds of Jaskier growling his name, and Geralt is pleased with the ferocity his sweet bard showed. Geralt allows himself to linger in the embrace, Jaskier still deep in him and softening, and he smirks at Jaskier's words. He's feeling lazy and indulgent. His eyes open to look at his flushed lover. The shyness is gone. They stepped over that hurdle tonight. Jaskier saw to his heart. He is calmer than he expected for that.
"I see why you enjoy that position so much yourself." Jaskier does like riding Geralt too. Geralt can still feel the ache of being so perfectly full. His thumbs stay on Jaskier's face, running over his cheekbones affectionately. "You were good. You can fuck me any time you want." It seems like a generous and honest enough offer. Geralt may prefer pounding Jasker into a mattress, but he sees the value in this, and he is content with it too. He kisses him deeply, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting very lightly. After some reluctance, he gets up, this time the impulse because he worries about his weight on Jaskier for too long. They may be around the same height but Geralt is made of pure muscle, he's very heavy. Besides, this is his ritual.
His knees are shakier and that is a complete credit to Jaskier. He has to test them before standing, and while it looks like they aren't weak when he does, he feels the strain in them. He looks very pleased, gold eyes turning back to the bard. He stands there for a moment, smirking, intentionally letting his eyes slowly and hungrily take in the details of Jaskier who is absolutely debauched himself. His messy hair, pink skin, and the mark of Geralt's release on his chest. He has seen him naked countless times now and still desires him. "You look good in my bed," he rumbles, his eyes full of heat. It is their bed now, but this was his growing up.
He returns with a cloth and settles next to him on the bed, a meaty arm instantly put around his shoulders and a nibble to the side of his neck as he cleans his bard off. It's superficial to wipe off; he still smells intensely of him. He affectionately muzzles Jaskier's ear and sweaty hair. His body is still singing with pleasure, it's nice. "I never thought I would bring anyone home like this."
Jaskier lived for those little moments. He knew that telling the whole world what sort of bond existed between was impossible and dangerous for many reasons, so that was the next best thing. They didn't need the whole Continent to know, it was enough with the two of them. And after tonight, the two of them...and everyone in the vicinity with keen hearing.
The bard whole body is still tingling even after it's all over, blood thrumming with the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. He's going to be a bit bruised tomorrow and after so many weeks without the chance to see those familiar marks in his skin, he's overjoyed with the idea. His hands are loose on Geralt's hips now but still ever-present, not willing to let the other man go just yet. Or to move at all. He's busy basking on the look on his lover's face, the unusual softness and the smirk. The brunette smiles back easily, mussed hair falling over his forehead.
"It's a very good position, trust an expert." One that Geralt knows very intimately. He doesn't have enough words to express how much it meant to him. Jaskier leans into the touch to his cheekbones and he places a hand on Geralt’s chest in return, enjoying the sound of the beating of his heart, aware that not a lot of things that can raise his heartbeat. "That offer goes both way, you know."
The night is long and his Witcher always had enough stamina to keep him distracted for hours, he's not concerned. When their lips meet, Jaskier keeps him close with a hand on the small of his back and makes an unhappy sound when they have to pull apart to breathe. He lets out a small protest when Geralt leaves the bed -I should be the one doing that tonight!- but he doesn't have enough energy to move much. And if he's honest with himself, this is one of the parts he enjoys the most about their post lovemaking. Geralt seems to like to take care of him, even if the Witcher's legs might be a bit more wobbly than usual.
The staring and smirking don't go unnoticed and Jaskier gives him an unashamed grin back before he leans on the mattress a stretches a little, as if to say 'like what you see?'.
"It's a good bed. Sturdy. I think I was made to stay here." His hand slides down Jaskier's chest, fingers getting coated on Geralt's spent before the bard brings them up to his lips to suck on the tip. His blue eyes never leave Geralt until he goes away and returns with a cloth to take care of the rest of the stickiness. He all but purrs when how lips nip and kiss his neck, pressing his body against the much more muscular one of his lover.
"It surprised us both, trust me. I like it here with you." One of Jaskier's hands is now trailing patters on Geralt's arm, sliding up and down the bicep, tracing the scars, caressing the inner skin of his forearm. "How are you feeling?"
Geralt already was nervous that enough people knew the bard was close to him. Lovers, not everyone guessed at, but it put Jaskier at potential risk too. Geralt had enemies, non-monster ones. But considering he is always at Jaskier's side now, there's no need to worry. They'd have to get through him. Not an easy feat. The other witchers knowing makes it simpler; they won't ask more questions about why the bard is there. He's their adopted brother's lover. That has been made clear.
"I already fuck you any time I want," Geralt points out at the both ways offer, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. Well, not any time, since Ciri's been with them, and they will have other things they need to do here than those sweet days and weeks they often got to fuck until neither of them could walk well. But they have a bed now, and the night is theirs. That will be enough. "Now you can do the same. I like you fierce." Fierce and strong. Geralt sometimes let himself be gentler and sweet with Jaskier, and Jaskier can be aggressive and ruthless with him. They're a good contrast that way.
He gives one of his raspy light laughs when Jaskier intentionally shows his wrecked body at him. And then he licks his fingers like that and Geralt's eyes are still heated. Fuck, he adores him. Geralt always has liked these little moments after sex, if he's being honest. He used to tolerate whores asking him questions about his scars as an excuse to stay, sometimes for a second round, but also because Geralt gets lonely. Not that he'd ever say as much, and he lived his solitary life without complaining before. But considering how he let Jaskier follow him around for years, and how close he let Yen get to him, the fact is he craves them. He likes when Jaskier snuggles up to him like now and the soft patterns his fingers make.
"About being fucked or about being here?" Geralt still doesn't like talking about his feelings, but he is pleasantly buzzed and Jaskier's warm and sweet. He nibbles on Jsakier's ear lobe, his voice so close only they can hear it. "Good about the first one." He is going to get very distracted if he keeps on Jaskier's neck so he simply rests his head against Jaskier's. He otherwise passively enjoys Jaskier's wandering hands, humming in thought.
"This is the safest place I know." It is why he brought Ciri there. He would fight an entire army by himself if he had, to but he is not so arrogant as to think that would work. No, she needs true protection. "But we are hard people. She may not like it here." That is his fear talking; Ciri seemed delighted to be there and there's no doubt she would win them all over quickly. But it still is not the type of place he would want a young girl to live in. She is soft. They are hard. She will have to learn how to fight and they are not kind. Geralt has been holding back and he will continue to. "I don't know what to do about her magic and neither does Vesemir."
Such cuties. Maybe we can star wrapping this one up, though? :3
Jaskier had amassed quite the long list of petty enemies in his life, and some less petty and more powerful associated with nobility. Most of them are smart enough not to mess with a Witcher but the point is that Geralt isn't free of danger thanks to his association with the bard. It's something they will both have to accept, Jaskier is never all that worried about it. Not even after getting stabbed in the leg, he will say that worrying too much gives him early wrinkles. The rest of the Witchers knowing about them will no doubt wring up a lot of either awkward or mock-worthy situations. Jaskier will deal with the issue once it happens.
"Always such romantic comebacks." The brunete pats his arm but it's obvious that he's trying not to laugh as well. It's been a while since he's been thoroughly debauched and he misses it but his limbs feel like jelly at the moment and being inside Geralt had been an experience. He's not in rush to do anything in the next several minutes. The night is long and his appetite insatiable.
"Do you, now?" The grin on Jaskier's face is predatory after that Fierce comment and he wraps an arm around Geralt's neck to pull him closer and bite down on his shoulder as soon as the man is within reach again. He looks all too proud of himself after that, happy to be pressed close and lazy against his lover. He enjoys these moments the most as well.
"Both." Jaskier comments without doubt or an ounce of shame. He was made to be by Geralt's side, let it be an old keep, the cold woods, or a too crowded tavern. He hums in delight at the nibbling, tilting his head to offer more skin for the Witcher to mark. When Geralt opts to rest his head against him, he can't even be mad about it. His hand lifts to the silver-white hair, treading through them and gently scratching the man's scalp.
"You are the safest place I know, Geralt. I would be happy anywhere as long as you're there and so will Ciri. You underestimate her, remember her bloodline." She is a princess and some part of her might be soft, that is true, but others had been forged in fire under the watch of her Grandmother. "Then we will contact someone who does. You know of Witches and Wizard, one might be able to help. But that's a worry for tomorrow, let her sleep one night."
[Can wrap here! Maybe we could do one when Yennefer arrives and she and Jaskier have been catty lol.]
There's an extra layer of protection that could come from this for Jaskier. His family now knows that the bard is beloved to him and will be in an extended stay here. If they accept Ciri, they have to accept Jaskier too. All three of them are a package. It means the other witchers will come to be defensive of Jaskier too, as an extended member of the witcher clan. Geralt is certain to be teased for this but he can handle it. He'll just punch them like when they were boys. Vesemir will give a long-suffering sigh and wait for them to grow up. The usual.
Geralt feels much the same way, debauched and used and he likes it. His body is ringing with pleasure and he is far from tired, but it is good to have this between them again. They've been able to sleep in the same bedroll and speak after she slept on the road, but there was a distance between them Geralt made as a boundary in case either of them got too tempted. Now they can hang all over one another again, wrapped up in a heated and naked embrace as long as they will.
He comes closer at Jaskier's request and snarls when he bites him, in a good, yes way. He's rarely happier than when Jaskier leaves him with nail marks and teeth. He marks the bard up pretty thoroughly, but he's still careful, keeping on that edge of pain and pleasure. Geralt on the other hand likes the dig of nails into him and the emphasis on pain, so it lasts on his rough skin longer. "I do," he confirms. He likes him fierce and strong and a little vicious.
He likes Jaskier's fingers in his sweaty hair and the rumbling sound he makes is almost like a purr. Geralt's never needed just a lover. He can find a lover anywhere. He's needed a partner. It took him awhile to get to a place where he could accept that, but he is there and Jaskier is the best choice for it. The layers of trust between them and the genuine respect are integral to why they work now. He can be vulnerable with Jaskier, with his soft human lover, and talk out real life problems they have to address. Such as Ciri and her place here.
"Calanthe was a very hard and powerful woman, that's true." And fiercely devoted to her daughter and granddaughter. She would have raised Ciri strong. Geralt likes that he could be seen as safe to others, such a contrast to who he was once, the Butcher. Geralt tilts his head back and tilts Jaskier's face up to him. "You will always be safe with me, my bard." He runs a finger on his lip. "My Jaskier." The claim can be gentle as well as aggressive and he seals that promise with a kiss.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
givingexposition) wrote2020-01-03 11:55 pm
ffffksajdjkas AAAH, sorry I thought I had replied this!
Geralt might realize now why the brunette enjoys riding him so much. The position is one of the best to really help to feel your partner, gravity doing wonders to the rolling of the hips. He doesn't care if Geralt doesn't last, it's already been wonderful, and that would make him more proud than anything. Jaskier bits his bottom lip, hard enough he could taste the coppery tartness of blood, and whimpers under his breath as Geralt admits that they own one another. It has taken them a long way to get here, so the admission and it's true meaning pulls a smile out of him, honest and full of love.
All those years of wanting have been sharpened to a hot point of desire focused on where his hands direct and slide across Geralt's body. It feels like he might burst, like he might float away into the sky, and he doesn’t know what’s got him so dizzy. Jaskier is not normally like this, but they normally don't fuck this way either, so it feels justified to be out of his element, overjoyed.
With his heart racing in his chest, he laps at the over-stimulated nub, clamping his teeth down Geralt's nipple and pulling, aiming to draw out a groan from the Witcher's lips. He would grin if his mouth weren’t busy. One of his hands squeezes the base of the man's dick, stroking it intermittently as his tongue flutters over the sensitive skin at Geralt's chest. Jaskier keeps it to light, soft strokes with the pad of his fingers, enough to feel good and tease but not to finish him off.
Then his lips trail up the man's collarbone and neck, aim to sucks a red mark onto his throat. He looks up to meet Geralt's eyes again when the man asks something from him - not demand, ask-, looking so gorgeous that Jaskier's heart is melting. It's like Geralt was born to fit in there, born to lean in and whisper it in his ear, to grind down on his cock, and trape him with his thighs. And who is Jaskier to deny him anything? He's not that kind of fool.He presses his forehead back against the other man, too breathless for a kiss, and charmed by the affectionate gesture.
"Anything you want, love."
It's easier to comply immediately, snapping his hips up, fingers leaving finger-shaped bruises on Geralt’s skin. Every time the other man grunts or sinks his nail on the wood of the bedposts before moaning, Jaskier shudders with the realization that it is because of him. He loses track of how many times he thrusts, how many needy little gasps he fucks out of Geralt with the force of them. He moans too, loud and needy, when a wave of sickeningly sweet pleasure surged through his body and the hand that isn't directing Geralt's hips, the one wrapped around his cock, squeezes and jerks him in tandem with the thrusts.
He could feel the pressure in his groin building, as Geralt's movements brought him so close to climax to the point it was on the edge of painful, but he wanted his lover to
“Geralt,” Jaskier says in between pants, smiling up at him. "Let go."
no worries!!! just assumed you were busy it's allll good
He didn't know that he wanted to be wanted so much. That the bard's adoration for him opened up something in his heart he didn't expect or even thought he desired. Jaskier saw his scars and his violence and his gruff impatience and bore all of it, loved all of him. Geralt isn't as free with his emotions so he's giving all of himself back this way. Jaskier's won him. His reward is getting ridden like a stallion.
He does groan at the harsh bite at his nipple paired together with stimulating strokes to his hungry cock. His plea is fulfilled immediately and all Geralt can do is hold on and enjoy it. And he does. His entire body feels like it's on fire with need, tensed up tight from an overabundance of pleasure, barely breathing in quick gasps whenever Jaskier thrusts up into him. He must have whispered harder at some point but he's uncertain, in a fog of feeling. His nails are digging into his own bed back board so at least he's the only one who has to worry about that. Or they both do, as it's their bed. He'll just smirk at the marks later. It's a compliment.
He is impressed by Jaskier's stamina but he might have saved up his strength for when Geralt let him have all of him. Geralt can feel him struggling and he nods, kissing him sloppily. It doesn't last since they have to breathe, but his hands abruptly move to cup Jaskier's face, tilting it up at him. He leans back just a little. "Look at me." No longer forehead to forehead since it's not easy to see there, instead he locks gold with blue again. "Come in me. Claim me."
Permission given, Geralt makes direct eye contact as he finally allows his strained and weeping body relief. He's avoided Jaskier's gaze before and now he's being brave, showing that he can, he can choose this, he can be in this moment with him. He comes all over Jaskier's chest and belly which is exactly what he means by claim, his scent covering him. His eyes go from dizzy to bliss and he whispers Jaskier's name over and over again like a quiet prayer.
That too, yes, because what is free time. Still, sorry and thanks for being so patient ♥
He doesn't have to mask his intention with music and embellished lyrics anymore and it is so much more rewarding to be able to call Geralt endearments to his face without getting a grunt in response. Not like the grunts aren't sexy, more so in situations like these where clothes had long been forgotten, but they share a level of comfort and trust now that Jaskier had been longing for all his life.
His way of showing Geralt his admiration is to grab a fistful of his hair and tug just the right way with one hand while the other slides up his cock and rubs a thumb under the cockhead. Let it not be said that Jaskier isn't good at multitasking. He gets lost in their lovemaking too, the kiss, the shared breath and loud moans, along with the distance sounds of the bed shaking under their assault. If the other witchers had any doubts about the nature of their relationship, those must be answered now. Later, he will now doubt spots the marks on the bed and laugh, it will be enough to keep him grinning with pride all week.
Jaskier sucks in a breath when Geralt speaks, eyes lost in golden suns that are staring back at him, and he's at a loss for words. "Geralt." Jaskier isn't one who has strong spiritual belief but he mutters the Witcher's name in a way akin to a prayer, feels Geralt coming and shaking on tops of him as his own religious experience. He rocks his hips harder to help Geralt ride out his orgasm and it doesn't take Jaskier more than a couple of trusts to follow him, pushed over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm.
His hands has moved to hold onto scarred hips with such force he's leaving little crescent moon marks on Geralt's skin. Jaskier growls his name, it's hard to describe the sounds he makes in a different way, over and over and over between gasps and moans. When the white behind his eyelids retreats and that familiar coil tightening in his abdomen eases, Jaskier's half-lidded eyes regard Geralt and he leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. They're both too out of breath for proper kisses. His cheeks are flushed and his chest glistening from exertion as well as the stains of their lovemaking.
"You look utterly debauched." The bard teases with pride in his voice, knowing far too well that he doesn't look any better.
no subject
So is this. Jaskier's tug on his hair causes him to growl and bite Jaskier's lower lip. The witchers already knew about the two of them. It may be sometime since Geralt got to mark his scent, but Jaskier still smelled like him to a trained nose. Now he is satisfied to make it clearer. He is still not loud in bed the way Jaskier is but he loves those moans, the bed moving underneath them in a clear rock, and he plans on more of it. Gods he's missed this. He's missed Jaskier's taste under his tongue, the tight clench of his fingers in Geralt's sides, the way the bard simply let go.
He is lost in bliss for a few seconds, his eyes closing after they've both come and simply living in it. He makes a satisfied little hmmm as he memorizes the sounds of Jaskier growling his name, and Geralt is pleased with the ferocity his sweet bard showed. Geralt allows himself to linger in the embrace, Jaskier still deep in him and softening, and he smirks at Jaskier's words. He's feeling lazy and indulgent. His eyes open to look at his flushed lover. The shyness is gone. They stepped over that hurdle tonight. Jaskier saw to his heart. He is calmer than he expected for that.
"I see why you enjoy that position so much yourself." Jaskier does like riding Geralt too. Geralt can still feel the ache of being so perfectly full. His thumbs stay on Jaskier's face, running over his cheekbones affectionately. "You were good. You can fuck me any time you want." It seems like a generous and honest enough offer. Geralt may prefer pounding Jasker into a mattress, but he sees the value in this, and he is content with it too. He kisses him deeply, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting very lightly. After some reluctance, he gets up, this time the impulse because he worries about his weight on Jaskier for too long. They may be around the same height but Geralt is made of pure muscle, he's very heavy. Besides, this is his ritual.
His knees are shakier and that is a complete credit to Jaskier. He has to test them before standing, and while it looks like they aren't weak when he does, he feels the strain in them. He looks very pleased, gold eyes turning back to the bard. He stands there for a moment, smirking, intentionally letting his eyes slowly and hungrily take in the details of Jaskier who is absolutely debauched himself. His messy hair, pink skin, and the mark of Geralt's release on his chest. He has seen him naked countless times now and still desires him. "You look good in my bed," he rumbles, his eyes full of heat. It is their bed now, but this was his growing up.
He returns with a cloth and settles next to him on the bed, a meaty arm instantly put around his shoulders and a nibble to the side of his neck as he cleans his bard off. It's superficial to wipe off; he still smells intensely of him. He affectionately muzzles Jaskier's ear and sweaty hair. His body is still singing with pleasure, it's nice. "I never thought I would bring anyone home like this."
no subject
Jaskier lived for those little moments. He knew that telling the whole world what sort of bond existed between was impossible and dangerous for many reasons, so that was the next best thing. They didn't need the whole Continent to know, it was enough with the two of them. And after tonight, the two of them...and everyone in the vicinity with keen hearing.
The bard whole body is still tingling even after it's all over, blood thrumming with the aftershocks of their shared pleasure. He's going to be a bit bruised tomorrow and after so many weeks without the chance to see those familiar marks in his skin, he's overjoyed with the idea. His hands are loose on Geralt's hips now but still ever-present, not willing to let the other man go just yet. Or to move at all. He's busy basking on the look on his lover's face, the unusual softness and the smirk. The brunette smiles back easily, mussed hair falling over his forehead.
"It's a very good position, trust an expert." One that Geralt knows very intimately. He doesn't have enough words to express how much it meant to him. Jaskier leans into the touch to his cheekbones and he places a hand on Geralt’s chest in return, enjoying the sound of the beating of his heart, aware that not a lot of things that can raise his heartbeat. "That offer goes both way, you know."
The night is long and his Witcher always had enough stamina to keep him distracted for hours, he's not concerned. When their lips meet, Jaskier keeps him close with a hand on the small of his back and makes an unhappy sound when they have to pull apart to breathe. He lets out a small protest when Geralt leaves the bed -I should be the one doing that tonight!- but he doesn't have enough energy to move much. And if he's honest with himself, this is one of the parts he enjoys the most about their post lovemaking. Geralt seems to like to take care of him, even if the Witcher's legs might be a bit more wobbly than usual.
The staring and smirking don't go unnoticed and Jaskier gives him an unashamed grin back before he leans on the mattress a stretches a little, as if to say 'like what you see?'.
"It's a good bed. Sturdy. I think I was made to stay here." His hand slides down Jaskier's chest, fingers getting coated on Geralt's spent before the bard brings them up to his lips to suck on the tip. His blue eyes never leave Geralt until he goes away and returns with a cloth to take care of the rest of the stickiness. He all but purrs when how lips nip and kiss his neck, pressing his body against the much more muscular one of his lover.
"It surprised us both, trust me. I like it here with you." One of Jaskier's hands is now trailing patters on Geralt's arm, sliding up and down the bicep, tracing the scars, caressing the inner skin of his forearm. "How are you feeling?"
no subject
"I already fuck you any time I want," Geralt points out at the both ways offer, a chuckle rumbling through his chest. Well, not any time, since Ciri's been with them, and they will have other things they need to do here than those sweet days and weeks they often got to fuck until neither of them could walk well. But they have a bed now, and the night is theirs. That will be enough. "Now you can do the same. I like you fierce." Fierce and strong. Geralt sometimes let himself be gentler and sweet with Jaskier, and Jaskier can be aggressive and ruthless with him. They're a good contrast that way.
He gives one of his raspy light laughs when Jaskier intentionally shows his wrecked body at him. And then he licks his fingers like that and Geralt's eyes are still heated. Fuck, he adores him. Geralt always has liked these little moments after sex, if he's being honest. He used to tolerate whores asking him questions about his scars as an excuse to stay, sometimes for a second round, but also because Geralt gets lonely. Not that he'd ever say as much, and he lived his solitary life without complaining before. But considering how he let Jaskier follow him around for years, and how close he let Yen get to him, the fact is he craves them. He likes when Jaskier snuggles up to him like now and the soft patterns his fingers make.
"About being fucked or about being here?" Geralt still doesn't like talking about his feelings, but he is pleasantly buzzed and Jaskier's warm and sweet. He nibbles on Jsakier's ear lobe, his voice so close only they can hear it. "Good about the first one." He is going to get very distracted if he keeps on Jaskier's neck so he simply rests his head against Jaskier's. He otherwise passively enjoys Jaskier's wandering hands, humming in thought.
"This is the safest place I know." It is why he brought Ciri there. He would fight an entire army by himself if he had, to but he is not so arrogant as to think that would work. No, she needs true protection. "But we are hard people. She may not like it here." That is his fear talking; Ciri seemed delighted to be there and there's no doubt she would win them all over quickly. But it still is not the type of place he would want a young girl to live in. She is soft. They are hard. She will have to learn how to fight and they are not kind. Geralt has been holding back and he will continue to. "I don't know what to do about her magic and neither does Vesemir."
Such cuties. Maybe we can star wrapping this one up, though? :3
"Always such romantic comebacks." The brunete pats his arm but it's obvious that he's trying not to laugh as well. It's been a while since he's been thoroughly debauched and he misses it but his limbs feel like jelly at the moment and being inside Geralt had been an experience. He's not in rush to do anything in the next several minutes. The night is long and his appetite insatiable.
"Do you, now?" The grin on Jaskier's face is predatory after that Fierce comment and he wraps an arm around Geralt's neck to pull him closer and bite down on his shoulder as soon as the man is within reach again. He looks all too proud of himself after that, happy to be pressed close and lazy against his lover. He enjoys these moments the most as well.
"Both." Jaskier comments without doubt or an ounce of shame. He was made to be by Geralt's side, let it be an old keep, the cold woods, or a too crowded tavern. He hums in delight at the nibbling, tilting his head to offer more skin for the Witcher to mark. When Geralt opts to rest his head against him, he can't even be mad about it. His hand lifts to the silver-white hair, treading through them and gently scratching the man's scalp.
"You are the safest place I know, Geralt. I would be happy anywhere as long as you're there and so will Ciri. You underestimate her, remember her bloodline." She is a princess and some part of her might be soft, that is true, but others had been forged in fire under the watch of her Grandmother. "Then we will contact someone who does. You know of Witches and Wizard, one might be able to help. But that's a worry for tomorrow, let her sleep one night."
work week was a bitch, comment below!
There's an extra layer of protection that could come from this for Jaskier. His family now knows that the bard is beloved to him and will be in an extended stay here. If they accept Ciri, they have to accept Jaskier too. All three of them are a package. It means the other witchers will come to be defensive of Jaskier too, as an extended member of the witcher clan. Geralt is certain to be teased for this but he can handle it. He'll just punch them like when they were boys. Vesemir will give a long-suffering sigh and wait for them to grow up. The usual.
Geralt feels much the same way, debauched and used and he likes it. His body is ringing with pleasure and he is far from tired, but it is good to have this between them again. They've been able to sleep in the same bedroll and speak after she slept on the road, but there was a distance between them Geralt made as a boundary in case either of them got too tempted. Now they can hang all over one another again, wrapped up in a heated and naked embrace as long as they will.
He comes closer at Jaskier's request and snarls when he bites him, in a good, yes way. He's rarely happier than when Jaskier leaves him with nail marks and teeth. He marks the bard up pretty thoroughly, but he's still careful, keeping on that edge of pain and pleasure. Geralt on the other hand likes the dig of nails into him and the emphasis on pain, so it lasts on his rough skin longer. "I do," he confirms. He likes him fierce and strong and a little vicious.
He likes Jaskier's fingers in his sweaty hair and the rumbling sound he makes is almost like a purr. Geralt's never needed just a lover. He can find a lover anywhere. He's needed a partner. It took him awhile to get to a place where he could accept that, but he is there and Jaskier is the best choice for it. The layers of trust between them and the genuine respect are integral to why they work now. He can be vulnerable with Jaskier, with his soft human lover, and talk out real life problems they have to address. Such as Ciri and her place here.
"Calanthe was a very hard and powerful woman, that's true." And fiercely devoted to her daughter and granddaughter. She would have raised Ciri strong. Geralt likes that he could be seen as safe to others, such a contrast to who he was once, the Butcher. Geralt tilts his head back and tilts Jaskier's face up to him. "You will always be safe with me, my bard." He runs a finger on his lip. "My Jaskier." The claim can be gentle as well as aggressive and he seals that promise with a kiss.
♥♥♥