Hi!! How about: Jaskier keeps getting sloppy drunk hoping Geralt will take advantage of him. Maybe Geralt's a bad person and actually does, maybe not, but it's mostly just Jaskier making bad dangerous decisions fantasizing about being raped by Geralt while he begs + pleads!
So this prompt is definitely something new to me: I’ve only been drunk once and I’ve never written from a drunk character’s perspective, but I’m totally up for it! I hope you like it! This one starts as Geralt’s perspective and then switches to Jaskier’s.
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Jaskier was starting to have a drinking problem, Geralt noticed. He had been getting drunk far more often than usual, tripping over his own feet and practically falling head over heels from the sheer amount of alcohol in his system, and by the time he awoke he wouldn’t remember a thing.
Jaskier was doing it on purpose. He wanted, no, needed for Geralt to notice him, to give him attention, to act as if he wanted Jaskier as Jaskier wanted him. He found himself shying away from taking bed partners for the night as he usually did, body craving the touch of Geralt and nobody else.
He got himself drunk, drunk enough to where the second he hit the floor he wouldn’t even be able to help himself back up. Maybe it was because he liked relying on Geralt, maybe it was because he liked the feel of warm, rough hands against his skin as Geralt carried him to bed. Maybe even because he liked the thought of Geralt watching over him, having full freedom to put his hands all over Jaskier’s body, let his hands roam downwards, strong hands wrapping around-
“Jaskier.” Jaskier was pulled out of his thoughts by Geralt, big, strong, powerful Geral- “Another ale?” Jaskier admired his strange way with words, how his voice rumbled from within his chest. He was already feeling a buzz, but he fully intended to get drunk once again tonight off of his own coin from performing in order to save for all the alcohol he had been consuming. “Of course, my dear witcher! I would love nothing more.”
And so, he got drunk again, his world turning to a blur of strong hands and scarred skin as he was carried off to their inn bed, his brain weakly trying to warn him of his cock, hardening in his breeches, but he made no attempt to cover it, enjoying how the witcher’s eyes, his beautiful, beautiful eyes made his skin feel overheated. How it only spurred on his erection that he was in the arms of such a strong man. He didn’t even fight down the whine when he hit the bed, that is, until hands were back on him.
He wished he wasn’t so drunk as powerful hands tugged and ripped at his clothes, pulling them away from overheated skin, running over the skin and wrapping tightly around his hardened cock, straining in Geralt’s grip, leaking precome like a faucet. “Yes, fuck, please Geralt...” His speech slurred and his vision blurred, Jaskier was defenseless against the pleasure, bucking sloppily into Geralt’s strong, powerful hands. He whined and pushed back against the touch as a shockingly large cock pressed against his entrance, Geralt’s rumbling voice flooding his senses and driving him closer to his climax. “You like that, don’t you? Such a slut, getting hard just from me taking you to bed.” Jaskier found himself letting out a nonsensical string of “oh fuck yes” and “please” as Geralt’s length pushed into him, slow enough he could feel every single inch of it enter him as Geralt continued to praise and chastise him. “Such a good slut for me, Jaskier. Taking my cock so well.” The bard squirmed on the witcher’s cock as he came, feeling the huge cock splitting him open begin to fill him as his own cock twitched, letting out thick ropes of cum across his own chest. Cum flooded his insides, spilling out of him due to the sheer amount of it, Jaskier brainlessly admiring the slight bulge it gave his stomach.
Geralt pulled out slowly, admiring how his own spend leaked out and spilled down Jaskier’s balls, staining the bed beneath him permanently. Geralt moved him to lay against the strong expanse of muscle that was Geralt’s chest, petting his hair lovingly as the drunken bard drifted off to sleep under the strong arms and surprisingly delicate touches he had dreamt of.
Hello! :D So mine's for Jaskier/Ciri (can never get enough of those). Geralt left them for a contract and Jaskier gets really drunk after performing for hours. Then he goes to the room they rented and is shocked to see Ciri spread on the bed, fingering herself and moaning Jask's name. Ciri realizes Jask is there and she looks so mortified but Jaskier's all "You only need to ask, princess" then J moves forward to pin Ciri and he ends up taking C's virginity doggy style. Underage + Daddy kink pls!
So I’ve been working on this one unofficially pretty much all day off and on, I really hope you like it! This one is from Ciri’s perspective, since I’ve never written from her view before.
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Ciri had a secret. A big one.
She had, well... A crush. A big one. She had had it since she was a young, young girl when the man had come to her birthday, her sneaking into the ballroom to listen to him perform a song called Late Night Horn, such raunchy words falling from such a handsome man leading to her reaching under her party dress to press against, well, you know.
Then, it hit her again the second she saw him again, throwing out his arms flamboyantly as he greeted her excitedly, treating her as if she were no longer a princess, but a queen. Calling her sweet names, carrying her on his back when her feet began to hurt. And if she relished the sight of his chest, dusted lightly with hair, slightly peeking from the collar of his tunic, well, he didn’t need to know that.
And from then, it just kept escalating. Even as she grew older and older, she found her heart quickening and breath hitching at the slightest touch, at being called “princess” or “sweetheart” or “darling” by the bard. God, just the thought of how sweet he was to her got her panties wet.
And so now here she was, getting off to just the simple sound of the bard happily, and judging by his slurring, drunkenly, singing that exact song, fingers pumping in and out of her pink cunt, getting off to the thought of the “Wonderful prince” with “a beautiful prick, as he gave her a lick” was him, and the “Wonderful chick” with a “beautiful cunny, which tastes just like honey” was her. That was a thought, wasn’t it? The bard, a prince, and her, a princess, a simple peasant. God, imagine, that amazing mouth and tongue working over her pussy, licking into her slit, lips wrapping around her-
And then the door flew open. Fuck.
She shot up, hands flying to cover her bare cunt and breasts. Jaskier swayed in the doorway, eyes wide from seeing and hearing his “precious little princess” with her cunt stuffed full of her own fingers as she moaned Jaskier’s name.
“Goodness, my darling. You could have simply asked if you wanted such a thing.” He said, stumbling his way over, to her shock. He made his way to the bed, planting his hands on either sides of her thighs. “You look absolutely ravishing like this, you know. Pupils blown wide, sweet little pussy soaked and stuffed full of your fingers. Perhaps you’d like mine more than yours?” He asked, a hand running down her stomach to rest on her inner thigh, a question unasked running between them.
She nodded.
Suddenly, Jaskier was all over her, that wonderful mouth running across her neck, marking her where her clothes could cover but she could still see, slipping lower, and lower, and lower...
“Sweet Melitele, you’re wet.” He murmured lovingly into her thigh, his thumb pressing and rubbing against her clit sweetly as he pressed kiss after kiss to her inner thigh, getting closer and closer until finally he pressed a kiss to the sensitive nub that was her clit, drawing a soft moan from the girl, his cock stiff and balls heavy as he pulled it from his breeches to stroke gently as he sloppily ate her out, stuffing her full of his tongue and sucking at her sensitive clit. It was all Ciri could ask for, such gentle treatment from the man that held her affections.
And then, suddenly his cock was rutting against her, sensitive tip rubbing against her wet folds until it caught on her entrance. “Can I fuck you, you sweet thing?” She nodded, of course. How could she not? “Please fuck me, daddy...” Jaskier groaned loudly as he pushed into her tight, wet heat, arms wrapped tightly around her body. Honestly, Ciri had never been happier. This was all she had wanted for years, the cock of the person she had fallen for so long ago filling her, sinking into her tight cunt as her beloved moaned noisily along with her.
He pulled out so that they could change positions, Ciri switching from laying on her back to sitting on her knees, face against the mattress as Jaskier lovingly fucked into her, taking every few minutes to ask “Are you okay darling? Feeling good?”. She felt so loved, so cared for, so warm and comfortable, especially when her thighs spasmed and her nails raked down the bard’s back as she squirted, letting out a moan so long and loud she was sure even Geralt, yards away on a hunt, could hear her and her lover as he groaned along with her, pulling out just before his cock twitched, cum splattering across her lower stomach and outer folds of her cunt. “...Darling... That was amazing, you were great my sweet princess.” He praised, dexterous fingers raking through pale locks as he held her close, leaving her feeling comfortable and loved as she had always dreamed of.
What about Jaskier was raped by Valdo Marx and that’s why he hates him, and he‘s fine, he’s fine now, it was back in university and he dealt with it, but now Geralt does something and it triggers a flashback (maybe Jaskier normally only rides or missionary, when getting fucked by other men and Geralt flips him over to doogy style, and it’s okay it’s Geralt, until it’s not) and they have to deal with it ( written out flashback would be 👌🏻)
Sorry about how long it took me to get to this one, anon! I kinda wrote it more like Geralt comforting him? I hope that’s cool.
warning: rape
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Geralt knew something was wrong.
Him and his lover/traveling partner were simply having a good time, and then he tried to try something new, a new position. He had seen how Jaskier tensed up as Geralt stood behind him, and then at the feeling of Geralt’s cock pressed against his ass, Jaskier just broke down.
He sobbed, pulling away from Geralt’s touch and curling into a ball to defend himself from any further touches. Geralt immediately stopped, of course, not wanting to touch him further in order to not upset his beloved bard any more.
“Please don’t, please...” Jaskier begged, clearly having some sort of flashback as Geralt sat alongside him on the bed, holding his hand when he reached for Geralt’s.
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Jaskier couldn’t stop the memories from flooding back.
All he could remember was rough, forced touches, hands where he didn’t want him, the stretch, the burn, the smell of blood as his hole tore under Valdo Marx’s violent actions.
Being shoved into a broom closet back in oxenfurt all those years ago was a shock, he was just trying to get back to his dorm. Then it just got worse.
He was shoved against the ground, clothes ripped from him as his nemesis called him various names, shoving into him as he sobbed and pleaded for him to stop.
He didn’t stop.
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Geralt held his lover in his arms as he continued to sob, shakily trying to explain to Geralt what had happened to him, why he had broken down then and there, what was wrong, with the strong man holding him being as gentle as he could as he wiped his tears and ran fingers through his hair, comforting his bard with sweet words and loving kisses.
“You’re okay, I’ll keep you safe, Jaskier.” Geralt said, actively plotting how to kill this man he had just learned of the second he had calmed Jaskier down.
FromtheKinkmeme Geralt and Jaskier end up being forced to rape each other by magic or something else. It controls their bodies but not their minds, they end up trying to comfort each other with words while they are passengers of their instinct driven bodies. ++ Geralt being forced to tear Jaskier because of lacking preparations and smelling blood + Geralt wishing the Witcher Mutation didn’t take his ability to cry +++ Geralt actually talking more than Jaskier,his fault and they gonna be okay
This one gets sad, guys.
Warnings: forced sex, non-con
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They should really stop fucking with mages.
They hadn’t done much to the mage this time. Just set up camp in ‘their woods’, which the mage didn’t take nicely to, cursing them out before really cursing them, the both of them suddenly packing up their camp before their eyes, no matter how they tried to stop. The mage cackled, saying they would “pay with their bodies” before portalling away.
Then Geralt was on him, and he on Geralt. Unwanted hands tearing away clothes as Jaskier lamented his lack of control over his actions.
Then Geralt was pressing against his entrance, all dry and rough and tearing as it pushed in. “Oh dear god, Geralt stop, stop please! It hurts!” He let out a sob as Geralt’s senses filled with the smell of blood. “I can’t. Just relax, okay? It won’t hurt so much if you try to not tense. Jask-” Geralt called to Jaskier as he began to lose it, sobbing and desperately telling his limbs to kick and flail despite the uncontrollableness of them. “Hey, stay with me bard. Just a little longer and it should all be over, you just gotta stay calm.”
Then the thrusting started. Geralt was left to watch as his cock was covered in Jaskier’s blood, and Geralt hated it. Hated the smell of Jaskier’s blood, a smell that should never reach him. The bard didn’t deserve to get hurt, much less experience something like this. Hell, even Geralt would be sobbing along with him over how hurt he looked and surely felt if he could.
His body still came, despite how much he hated it. Hated his own scent mixing with the smell of Jaskier’s blood and tears as he slowly regained control of his limbs, left to pull himself out as gently as he could, a sobbing bard clutching to him for comfort despite everything.
“It’s okay Jaskier, you’re alright...” He cooed, voice gentler than he thought possible.
The rest of their night was spent applying salve and providing comforting words to eachother.
