roach my beloved

milo . he/him . ao3

[lesbianroach]

and when i think im fine you’ll come visit (you happen to me all over again) — [ Geraskier || 11.1k || T || ao3 ]

an angry post 1x06 fic where Geralt gets to hear Burn Butcher Burn and Jaskier feels a lot of things

wolf of lettenhove — [ Geraskier || 1/15 || 8k || M || ao3 ]

Jaskier has to go to Lettenhove and Geralt follows and they’re both in for some fun times

[rotisseries]

that being said I'm not actually always opposed to conflict free fluff I am just opposed to the characters having their claws filed down for it. you can stick them in a coffee shop au it should just still feel like you sat the two worst most insane people on earth in a starbucks

[petemcvries23]

it’s never too dark for me—i’m a freak

[endiness]

[bambirex]

geraskier, and the art of repairing cracks with gold?

Warnings: none

**

Jaskier was warm against his side.

It was a feeling that Geralt has known well, yet never experienced in such quantity. During their years of traveling together, they often ended up sharing a bed, and if those beds were a little narrow, they had to sleep close to each other. In those moments, Geralt felt the warmth of Jaskier's body against his.

But not like this, not tucked under his arm like he was now, his cheek resting against Geralt's chest. It was allowed now, to hold Jaskier close, to show him that he cared with his touch.

It was all Jaskier has wanted since decades, and Geralt has never dared giving it to him. Not until he's lost him, not until he's chased Jaskier away with his cruel words. They've parted, and then reunited, but nothing was the same. Something fundamental has broken between them: the trust, the familiarity, the understanding, all gone, all because Geralt couldn't appreciate what he had.

But he was different now; he's learned, he's grown, and he was fully ready to fix what was broken.

"This is nice," Jaskier commented against his chest softly. One hand sneaked around Geralt's waist, a light, familiar touch, giving Geralt hope that he wasn't the only one who believed they could return to how they once were.

"Never would have thought you to be a cuddler."

"I missed you," Geralt said earnestly. Taking care of Ciri has opened him up more and taught him to express his feelings. It was still not easy, and he still wasn't completely ready to say what he really felt, but he was willing to take the first steps. If being kind and honest with Jaskier meant he wouldn't lose him again, Geralt was more than ready to change.

"I'm sorry, Jaskier. I know I've said it before, but I really am. You deserve much better."

He felt Jaskier momentarily tense next to him. Geralt soothed a hand down his back. To calm Jaskier or himself, he wasn't sure.

"Do you think we can be alright again?"

Jaskier didn't reply for a while. He traced a finger over Geralt's chest, drawing a small pattern onto his skin. Geralt closed his eyes, his own hand resting on the small of Jaskier's back.

"I think we need to work on it," Jaskier replied after a while. He peered up at Geralt, his lashes fluttering softly. Geralt swallowed.

"Mostly you, to be honest. I can't be your doormat forever, Geralt. I'm tired. If you don't want me, I won't come crawling back and beg for your affection."

"You don't have to," Geralt promised. He brushed a stray piece of hair out of Jaskier's face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt the tension seep out of his body when Jaskier relaxed into his touch.

"I will do better, I promise."

Jaskier hummed. He hid his face in the crook of Geralt's neck, and Geralt could feel his smile against his skin.

"I think you've already started," Jaskier whispered. Geralt kissed the top of his head in response.

It won't be easy, Geralt knew that. There was a lot to repair, a lot to atone for. But as he felt the warmth and softness of Jaskier's body against his, the way his hair tickled his chin, and most of all how he accepted the new ways of affection that Geralt offered him, Geralt started to believe that maybe things weren't broken, just cracked.

And he was ready to fill in those cracks, at last.

[detectivehole]

choking on your own blood all by yourself, beautiful?

[ladybugpdf-deactivated20250512]

been thinking a lot about anticipatory grief lately. i love you so much that i know losing you will devastate me. i haven't lost you yet but i already miss you. we still have time, but it won't be enough. i think about what i would say at your funeral, and say some of it to you now cause i need you to know how loved you are before you go. you will go where i cannot follow, but you will never really leave me. it won't make it hurt less but it is a part of healing somehow.

[lesbianroach]

Witcher au where everything is the same except Geralt wears tripp pants and gets mad every time they get caught on something

[sillylilfang]

damn cats...

[lesbianroach]

“Gods,” Jaskier pants, “Your fucking hands.”

Her fingers are gripping the poor grass beneath her, dirt embedding under her nails as she tries to ground herself. There’s almost painful sparks of pleasure zipping through her. Every bit of skin between them that touches is fucking burning, they’re pressed together from face to hip — Geralt’s light panting drives her nuts as it spans against her cheek, heating the sweat and the spit and the tears clinging to the flushed skin.

She clamps down around Geralt’s fingers — his knuckles — all four of them stuffed so deep inside her, it’d be easy as breathing for him to just slide the rest of his hand in her sopping hole.

“Sometimes—” Geralt slides his fingers out and then slowly presses them back in. Jaskier can feel his fucking smirk against her jaw as he finds that spot inside her. He’s so fucking good at it. She feels a new wave of slick leaking out of her and into his palm.

He rubs the pads of his fingers over that spot a few more times and she arches up into his other hand, large and rough, his thumb rolling over the hardened peak of her nipple and he tugs at it, pulling her further from the ground like a puppet on a string; boneless and pliable. She's a play thing for him, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Expectantly, like the last three times, Geralt brings her to the peak and pushes her right over into overstimulation, the tight coil of heat and pressure that'd been building between her hips loosening for all of three seconds before tightening back up with a rush of pleasure-pain so good she knows she's drooling. Geralt's sleeve is drenched and sticking to his forearm, that much she can see from prying her eyes open to glare at him.

"Sometimes," Jaskier picks the thought back up, heaving breaths that barely reach her lungs, "I feel like you're trying to climb into my womb."

Geralt snorts a laugh, and he looks so fucking proud of himself to be up above her, watching as she trembles on his fingers — which are thankfully playing at her just a little bit more tenderly, knowing that he's walking the line of discomfort from the relentless way he fucks them into her.

He leans forward, his broad thighs stretching Jaskier's open further, and kisses her easily. It's a little sloppy, drool from her chin smears and Geralt likes to kiss tongue first, tasting her lips before kissing them; it's sloppy but she fucking loves it. Jaskier lets her now sore hands slowly disentangle from the poor grass around her and rest at the back of his head.

"I've got mommy issues, what do you want me to say?"

She laughs, breathless. And Geralt looks at her like he wants to fucking eat her. He settles for licking up the tears that've turned tacky on her cheekbones and digging the fingers of his less occupied hand so hard into her hip that she can taste the bruises it'll leave.

Fuck, she loves him.

He ropes one more orgasm out of her before gifting her a chance to recover. Strings of slick fluid connect from her pussy to Geralt's fingers, and the bastard, smears it almost endearingly around her thighs, up her hips — marking her with the physical remanence of her desperation.

"Hope you know those mommy issues of yours are making my cunt feel like a godsdamned cave," Jaskier tells him. She can feel herself clenching around nothing and it aches, the emptiness.

Geralt quirks a brow before bringing his hand down and slapping her still throbbing cunt. It makes Jaskier yelp (and embarrassing for only Jaskier, thrilling for Geralt) it tapers into a moan, when she clamps a hand to his wrist and slams her thighs closed around his hand. Like a balm on a wound, the pressure of Geralt’s hand over her soothes the sting while she throws him a teary/eyed glare. Geralt rolls his eyes and easily works two fingers back into her, no intention of bringing anymore pleasure just to be a tease when hooking his fingers to the side and pulling her slick entrance open when he says, “Muscles stretch. It will snap back in an hour.”

Jaskier scoffs, bringing her foot to Geralt’s ribs and shoving him off, “I’m going to be gaping all fucking night, you bastard,”

“You begged for it.”

“Well your hands shouldnt be so fucking big—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Geralt is leaning back over and kissing her silent, and then he’s shuffling further and further up her body until his thick thighs are spread by the width of her chest, and Jaskier’s eyes light up. “How about using your mouth for something that isn’t complaining?”

Eating Geralt out is a treat, it’s something she’s allowed only every so often, when Geralt is feeling indulgent or craving that kind of touch he so rarely does, and Jaskier has never been anything but enthusiastic to be the person he derives his pleasure from. To be the person he trusts to give him whatever type of pleasure he wants, even if that’s none. She’s clawing at Geralt’s thighs, his ass, his hips, urging him forward to use her mouth anyway he wants.

[artisfaction]

“Anyway here’s Wonderwall”

–

I just wanted to draw Jaskier in pretty clothes, so there :3

More art at my Patreon and twitter :3

[izzy-hands]

The Witcher and his Lark

[fassophy]

Sophia Brown as Eile (The Witcher: Origin Blood)

[flootzavut]

She

[spilledbutter]

jaskier, master of the seven liberal arts: wooOAH fuckity fuckity fucking FUCK

[justablobfish]

Jaskier, master of the seven liberal arts: okay, let’s resort to the basics...HELLO??? IS ANYONE THERE??

[pandalikeelf]

*looking respectfully* 

[lesbianroach]

im sorry but lark is too pretty to get together with that dog clan guy i am a hater

[heschrafn]

Buttercups for Jaskier 🌼