Make You Happy
(again, housekeeping and moving things to the new blog. Ignore me!)
Explicit, Warnings: knotting, virgin Jaskier, sex slave Jaskier, a/b/o. Geraskier.
Anonymous asked: Virgin Sex Slave Jaskier to the Wolves. Maybe his first introduction to fucking a Witcher and their MASSIVE cocks after his purchase? Dubcon to oh fuck yes. So, learning about sex, breeding and lots of cum? A/B/O or knots (don't have to be combined) for flavour if you'd like. (age is up to you, but since you didn't mention it, 18+ is perfect.)
Anon, I have to apologize a little here. I went off script. I can definitely be talked into writing a follow up where Geralt shares his slave with the other wolves, but I felt like he needed to take what was his first. Have 2k of sassy Jaskier who has absolutely no idea what he’s getting himself into. I wrote this picturing him as 18, but didn’t state it so let your mind go wild.
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The omega is quiet as they walk back to Geralt’s campsite. How the fuck does he get himself into these situations? Who wins a sex slave in a game of Gwent? He honestly hadn’t expected to win that game, but that obviously doesn’t matter now.
“Do you sleep outside all the time?” the omega asks quietly, breaking Geralt out of his thoughts.
“Not all the time, but towns aren’t often kind to me,” Geralt informs him, adding a rushed out “sorry” to the end of it.
“I like the stars” he says with a shrug, “Besides, whatever you want I want. That’s kind of how this works.”
“Sorry if I’ve never owned a sex slave before,” Geralt scoffs out, cringing when the boy looks a bit heartbroken at that. He hadn’t asked for this, to be tied to a witcher of all things. Geralt vows to be a bit nicer if he can help it.
“I just want to make you happy,” the omega mumbles, pouting a bit. Geralt realizes he never actually got his name, which is probably bad form, but to be fair he was shocked at having won a slave in a card game.
“I’m sure you will. This is just...a lot to take in. What should I call you?”
“My name is Jaskier, but the ones who trained me called me Pet if that pleases you more?” Jaskier replied. Geralt thought it over for a moment, decided this was odd enough without adding that element to it.
“So Jaskier, unless you’re an idiot, you’ve noticed I’m a witcher. Did they train you for that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“I was trained to be displayed at court, so no,” Jaskier says, frowning. “Do I displease you?”
“Not at all,” Geralt rushes out. “You...you look nice. I just want to know what you’re ready for. Alpha witchers can be a bit much. What did your last owner do with you?”
“My last owner lost me in a card game on my first night with him, so I’m still fresh from training.”
“Fresh as in...virginal?” Geralt asks, his voice cracking over the word. This is too much. No matter how sweet and eager the boy seems, there’s no way he’s ready to take a witcher cock. He’ll have to find a place for him, maybe set him free somewhere nearby.
“Only my ass. I’ve had lots of practice with my hands and my mouth,” Jaskier says with a saucy wink. “Sometimes they even let me get myself off afterwards if I was good enough with my mouth.” Geralt can picture it, the boy taking his tiny omega cock in his own hand and fucking his fist to orgasm. A shiver runs through him, and he has to push another wave a lust away and focus on setting things straight.
“No use in being modest, but witchers - especially alphas - are more well endowed than most. We might not be a good match,” he says tactfully.
“You don’t want me,” Jaskier sobs out, shooting Geralt a doe-eyed look.
“Look. I travel alone normally. I’m not good with people. I have wanted nothing more than to fuck that tight little ass since I saw you in that tavern, but I don’t think it’s possible. I’m not about to hurt you, and you can’t want this,” he waves a hand around at the campsite around them. No reasonable omega would want to live in the fucking woods and trail a witcher around. It’s ridiculous.
“Well that’s great, because I’ve thought of little else than you taking me since I saw you. Now let me show you something and maybe it will change your mind. Because I’m not about to lose two owners in one day,” Jaskier huffs out before stomping over to his bag. He roots around for a moment before pulling out a rectangular box. He kneels down in front of Geralt and presents it to him, grinning up at him.
“What this?” Geralt asks as he opens the lid. His eyes go wide as he takes in the contents; a set of wooden plugs of various sizes. The largest is as thick around as he is. “You’ve taken these?” he asks as his blood rushes south.
“All but the largest. I’ve not been properly fucked, but they wanted to make sure I was able to be. They’re also for if my owner wants to...keep me open for them. I’m made to serve, made to be ready. Now can we please get to the part where you stick your cock in me? I’ve been wet since we left town,” he whines and chews at his lower lip, drawing Geralt’s attention to it. And there’s no reason to say no, no reason to deny himself this pleasure, so he just nods and sets the box aside before moving to his bedroom.
“Strip. Let me see you,” Geralt orders, his voice lower than normal. Jaskier smirks at him and makes a show of undoing his doublet and sliding out of his trousers. He hadn’t lied, Geralt can see the slick on his thighs and it sends a wave of need through him. Geralt tugs his own clothing off and sinks to his knees. “Come here, darling,” he whispers.
Jaskier slinks over to him and drops to his knees, hands reaching out as if he’s afraid to touch. Geralt makes the decision for him, leaning forward and running his own hands down his arms, fingertips reveling in the impossibly soft skin. He smells so good like this, sweet and cloying like honey and clovers. Geralt bends down and nips at his skin, right below the black collar wrapped around his neck. There’s a hoop there, meant to carry his owner’s mark, and Geralt has to bite back a moan when he pictures a silver wolf pendant hanging there.
“Do I please you?” Jaskier asks breathily. Geralt meets his gaze and realizes the boy is unsure of himself. He has no idea how much Geralt is fighting the urge to just sink into him, fuck him and take what’s his. He shivers and runs his hands over Jaskier’s hips before cupping his little omega prick in his hand. Jaskier cries out and goes limp against him, whining, “no one’s ever…” against his chest.
“Fuck. No one’s ever touched you like this?” Geralt asks in shock. Jaskier nods, trembling as Geralt starts to pump his hand, slowly working over his little cock. He’s red and leaking, just a mess of pre-come, and Geralt just wants to worship him. For all his training, the omega is falling apart, just shuddering against Geralt as he fucks into his fist. He’s gorgeous like this, and Geralt can’t fault him his pleasure, just speeds up his hand and watches in awe as Jaskier comes.
“Geralt!” he shouts, nearly sobbing as he spills over Geralt’s hand. He’s shaking, clearly overwhelmed with it all, and Geralt just works him through it, milking every last bit of come that he can. Geralt ducks down and noses at his scent gland, drowning in his strong smell. He’s never smelt an omega this sweet before. It’s like he was made for him.
“Can I fuck you?” Geralt asks, and Jaskier just laughs at him.
“I’m yours to do what you please with, but if you’re asking if I’d like it, yes. I very much would,” Jaskier murmurs against the side of his neck. Geralt can’t wait any longer, just grabs Jaskier by the hips and sets him on his hands and knees. His thighs are glistening with slick and Geralt has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep his mind clear.
But then Jaskier leans forward so he’s resting on his shoulders and reaches back, grabbing his cheeks and parting them. He’s fucking <i>presenting</i> like a bitch in heat and it’s too much. His hole is pink and dripping slick, and Geralt growls and is lining up and sinking into him before he can think about it. Jaskier whimpers and it goes straight to his dick, throbbing as he slides deeper.
“Fuck, you’re so gods damned tight,” Geralt growls as he gives the omega a moment to get used to the feeling.
“I’m so full,” Jaskier shudders, struggling to get back up on his hands. He sighs and rocks back, sucking Geralt even deeper into his wet heat. “Didn’t know it would be like this,” he pants out.
“Didn’t know you’d be perfect. Like you’re made to take my cock,” Geralt says quickly. He pulls back and slams his hip home, loving the way the smaller man whimpers and clenches around him. He’s not going to last long, hasn’t fucked an omega this tight in years. Every thrust of his hips is sweet agony.
He knows in the back of his mind that he should be going easy on him because it’s his first time, but he just can’t help it. Jaskier is gushing slick now, the sounds of their joining echoing around them. His hips move on their own, finding a ruthless rhythm as he plows into Jaskier. The omega - his omega - is taking it so well, a chorus of breathy gasps and moans flowing from his mouth as Geralt fucks him.
“Please, oh please,” Jaskier whines. “Am I good? Can I come when you do? Am I good for you?” he’s babbling mindlessly, begging for a release that Geralt won’t deny him. He’s too sweet, too perfect, his hole too hot and tight around him. For a split second Geralt wishes he could breed him, see his belly round and full with pups, and the thought makes him move faster.
His knot is growing, catching on Jaskier’s abused rim with every slam of his hips. He leans down, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own, rutting into him like a man possessed. There’s a fire burning in his gut and he starts to lose his rhythm, hips stuttering as he chases his release. He thrusts once, twice more before his knot takes hold and he falls over the edge, emptying his seed inside Jaskier’s sweet little body.
“Come for me,” he hisses.
Jaskier sobs out his name and the scent of his release fills the air. He gets even tighter, body gripping Geralt’s knot so fucking tight that his eyes roll back and he can’t do anything but grind into him, fucking him with his knot. It’s rough and sloppy and everything Geralt’s ever wanted. He scrapes his teeth over Jaskier’s scent gland, a promise of what’s to come, and shoots burst after burst of come into him.
They collapse to the bedroll and Geralt rolls them to their sides. Jaskier is shaking, whining deep in his chest as he reaches back and clings to Geralt. “I’ve got you,” Geralt says, voice hushed and rough. He runs a hand over Jaskier’s belly, pleased to find it bulging just a little. He wonders how many rounds it would take to make him ache with it.
“Nothing prepared me for this...I didn’t know it would be so good,” Jaskier whispers. Geralt reaches down and takes him in hand again, tugging him into another orgasm just to feel his hole tighten around him again. He bites Jaskier’s shoulder as another rush of seed flows into him. He’s never liked being locked to another, stuck with them for far too long, but he feels like this won’t be long enough. He wonders if the boy has another round in him tonight; how many times he can make them both come before morning light.
“I think we’ll like travelling together,” Geralt promises him. Jaskier just shudders and presses back against him in agreement.