I Just Really Love the Flower Twink

But Geralt had worked late that past week, taking no time for himself, and Jaskier was feeling bored and, if he was honest, a bit neglected. He knew where Geralt was... he could go see him. The compound across the property from the mansion wasn’t somewhere he was expressly forbidden from entering, but it was definitely described in a way to keep Jaskier from wanting to go anywhere near it. Luckily for Jaskier, the deterrent hadn’t worked.

Jaskier did his best to look confident, stalking across the courtyard to the compound. The last thing he wanted was to hesitate, to show weakness, and be intercepted before he could make it into the compound. He wanted, needed, to see Geralt, to see what exactly the man was doing that had kept him so busy. The only hitch in his plan, he realized, was that he had no idea where in the compound Geralt would be.

Pulling from every drama class he’d ever taken, Jaskier marched right up to one of the guards, Gaetan.

“Geralt sent for me, which room is he in?”

Other than a briefly furrowed brow, the man acquiesced, giving Jaskier the necessary directions and sending him on his way.

The empty, sterile hallways were uninviting and Jaskier couldn't suppress a shiver. His footsteps echoed down the hall loudly and it was only then that Jaskier wondered if he should turn back. The door he had been directed to loomed in front of him ominously and he could feel regret and worry beginning to creep in at the edges of his mind.

With a deep, steadying breath, Jaskier reached out and turned the doorknob allowing it to swing in easily. Instantly, the sound of crying filled his ears, and he cocked his head to the side curiously. He'd suspected that Geralt was performing some kind of... interrogation, but he hadn't been sure exactly. Looking around the dimly lit room, he was able to see that it was incredibly large and mostly empty. A small table stood in the center, next to it a man hung from the ceiling, his wrists strung up by chains.

In front of him stood Geralt. Tall and confident and imposing, Geralt looked every bit the mob boss that he was. It wasn't a sight Jaskier had been privy to since the first night they met. It was... hot. Intoxicating even, causing Jaskier's breathing to hitch as Geralt paced in front of the man, a metal instrument held loosely in his hands.

It looked like a lighter, but Jaskier couldn't be sure. He took a step forward, his step loud in the mostly quiet room. The hanging man didn't look up, still sobbing quietly from his position, but Geralt spun around quickly. He stared back at Jaskier, surprise written across his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Ahh! Geralt. Well, I was looking for you, actually. I uhh... well I suppose I wanted to see what was keeping you so tied up."

Geralt's eyebrow lifted, an amused expression crossing his face, "I'm not the one tied up."

The man behind Geralt made a choked sound and Jaskier allowed his gaze to drift over to him again. He was naked and bloody, his body covered in all sorts of injuries Jaskier couldn't explain. Cuts and bruises and what may have been a bullet wound even... he was in rough shape. And Jaskier couldn't imagine that he would be in any better shape by the end of the night.

"I see that. You don't mind me stopping by, do you?"

Geralt shrugged, "You're welcome to stay if you want, but I've got a bit longer to go before I'm done for the night."

Leaning back against the wall, Jaskier nodded to the man, "Get to it then."

The dull thud of Jaskier's heart was so loud that he could hear it in his ears. He'd never seen something like the scene in front of him before. Geralt was ruthless, his every movement calculated. He asked a question and when it went unsatisfied, he acted purposefully. Efficiently.

Jaskier couldn't think of a time he'd ever seen something so hot.

The click of the lighter followed by the scream of pain was overwhelming, the flex of Geralt's muscles mesmerizing. Without thought, he brought his hands to the front of his jeans, palming his erection through them. It had been a week since he'd been with Geralt, a week of pulling himself off when he was bored, mostly. He wanted Geralt.

The man was filthy, covered in blood and... no telling what else. Jaskier shouldn't even want to be in the same room as him, but all he could think about was being pushed up against the wall fucked within an inch of his life.

Another question, more silence, a click, a scream. Jaskier couldn't hold back his moan that time, his eyes tracking the movement of Geralt's shoulders hungrily.

Once the scream stopped, Geralt turned slowly to him, "You sound like you're having fun."

"What can I say? You put on quite the show."

"Hmm." Geralt stalked over to him, carelessly tossing the lighter on the ground. His hands rested on the wall beside Jaskier's head, caging him in.

Jaskier wanted to pull Geralt close, to grind their bodies together and capture the man in a desperate, hungry kiss, but he couldn't move. The look in Geralt's eyes was like nothing he had ever seen before. Wild and hungry and so fucking powerful. It was a look that could move mountains, that could destroy armies.

It could destroy Jaskier if he wasn't careful, he was sure of it.

"All finished up here, then?" He was breathless, the question whispered almost like a secret.

"Almost, but you seemed like you might need some attention first."

Geralt's hand knocked Jaskier's own aside, palming at his erection straining in his pants. Unable to hold back a moan, Jaskier rocked his hips into the touch. He was so desperate for more he'd take anything. Vaguely he realized there was blood on him now, covering his pants, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Geralt undid his jeans quickly, wrapping a hand around his length, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his.

His grip was slick and somehow the knowledge of why made it that much hotter.

With closed eyes, Jaskier let himself focus on the pleasure. He quickly lost himself to the motion, to Geralt gripping him tightly. His pace was relentless and Jaskier thrust against him helplessly. He was close, so fucking close, ready to tip over the edge at any moment. One more stroke, one calculated twist of the wrist, and a strangled grunt was torn from Jaskier's throat as he spilled in Geralt's fist.

"Go home." Geralt pulled back from him. "Run a bath. I'll finish up here and meet you."

Jaskier fumbled with his pants, wincing at the bloody handprint on the white denim. Geralt had turned away, back to the man hanging from the ceiling, a gun now in his hand. Rushing from the room, Jaskier couldn't help but wince as he heard the shot from behind the door.

No, his new life wasn't nearly as difficult as he'd expected, but it was very different.

-

Honestly though, he never in a million years would have considered it being Ciri. Her small, lithe body pressed up behind Geralt made the prettiest picture he had ever seen, and he could feel the sonnet forming with no conscious effort. It was times like this he wished he could immortalize visuals as easily as words, it was certainly something he wanted to see again and again.

He would just have to make sure there was a follow up performance.

There was nothing quite like watching Geralt squirm as Jaskier instructed Ciri exactly what to do with her hands, just how to push and twist and curl to have Geralt crying out in ecstasy as he writhed beneath her. Jaskier thought he would cum just like that, his cock still in his trousers. It was a miracle really that he hadn’t, he was hanging by a thread. And then the heated look Ciri sent him when she ordered him to undress so sweetly had nearly made him faint.

She’d been so nervous when she had first approached Jaskier with her questions, with her confessions. Her want for the men in her life, her want to try something new and exciting, the whispers she’d heard in passing of a way she could fuck them. If they wanted, of course. Jaskier had never been shocked speechless before but there he stood, his mouth wide open, a noticeable bulge in his trousers, and a sudden desperation to get to an inn as quickly as possible.

Convincing Geralt had been shorter work than he’d expected, possibly because he asked while balls deep in him, but it had worked. And that led them there. To that moment. Ciri pressing her cock into Geralt slowly, dragging at just the angle that Jaskier showed her to make the man howl.

The sight of it made Jaskier shiver as he walked around to the front of Geralt. On his hands and knees, presenting for Ciri, he was the very picture of sinful debauchery. Jaskier threaded his fingers through Geralt’s hair and pulled his head up so they could lock eyes. Ciri didn’t pause her strokes, the thrusts pushing Geralt forward slightly as Jaskier held onto him.

“You look lovely like this, darling. Does she feel good?”

Geralt’s responding moan answered Jaskier’s question beautifully and he traced his thumb around Geralt’s lips.

“Open up for me?”

His mouth tipped open with no hesitation and Jaskier smiled. Shifting just so, he lined up his cock and rested the head against Geralt’s open mouth. “Do you want it?” he whispered softly. Geralt’s eyes slid closed as he leaned forward, taking the head in his mouth and suckling softly.

Pleasure shot through Jaskier, and he gasped at the feeling, looking up to meet Ciri’s eyes. She smirked back at him just as Geralt swallowed him down with a moan.

Jaskier was surprised when he was approached with an invitation back to the Cintran court, signed by Eist himself. He’d been even more surprised when, after a performance, Eist had approached him about tutoring Ciri. Jaskier’s yes had maybe been a bit too emphatic, but Eist hadn’t seemed to notice, or maybe he simply didn’t care.

It had given Jaskier an opportunity he hadn’t expected, and he couldn’t deny, as he watched Ciri’s mouth stretched wide around his cock, that maybe he was the lucky bastard. Geralt still hadn’t come to claim the girl so really Jaskier was the one benefitting.

“Ease up, love,” he whispered as he felt her teeth graze him just barely.

She pulled back, her eyes filled with unshed tears, “Did I do something wrong?”

Jaskier stroked her face lovingly and smiled at her, “Nothing that some practice won’t fix love. You’re doing so amazing for me. Go ahead and start again and this time mind your teeth, darling.”

With a determined nod, she ducked back down, sucking his length in her mouth with a vigor he never would have expected from someone at her age. Truly, she was born for this.

Her hair was tangled from his fingers and the tears in her eyes finally spilled over as she pushed down as far as she could go. He could feel her struggling around him and he knew she went too far, too fast. Briefly, he considered pulling her back up and checking on her but he decided ultimately that it was a lesson in need of learning, and he was her tutor after all.

With his grip on her head, he guided her down, pushing gently to encourage her to keep going and he could feel her choking around him. The sensation was just enough to push him over the edge and he held her down as he spilled in her mouth.

When he released her finally she pulled back, the mess spilling from her mouth as she coughed. He tutted gently, waiting for the coughing fit to subside and once it had he held her by the chin so that their eyes met.

She looked wrecked.

“Good girls clean up after themselves, love.”

She nodded and leaned back down, licking at his soft cock and laving his balls until she’d licked up all of the spend that had leaked from her mouth.

On Jaskier’s very first week in the castle, he had been curiously wandering the grounds, trying to learn all the best hiding places, and that was when he had met the stunningly gorgeous stable hand. Geralt had been short with Jaskier, clearly unimpressed with the man’s flirting, but Jaskier wasn’t one to give up easily. And Jaskier… well, Jaskier had been smitten ever since. They had developed a tentative but caring friendship since and Jaskier was always happy to sneak out to the stables to see him.

Walking over to his favorite horse, Jaskier stroked Pegasus softly on the nose, “Hey boy, do you know where Geralt is? I don’t have very long today.”

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

Jaskier jumped at the sudden voice behind him and spun around, staring up at Geralt in shock, “Honestly, Geralt. One of these days you’ll be the death of me.”

“No, wandering around without permission will be the death of you.”

“Oh, nonsense Geralt, I’d have to get caught to get into trouble.”

After five years in the castle, Jaskier was fairly certain he had found every single nook and cranny the place had to offer. From secret passages within the keep to hidden rooms in a well in the garden, Jaskier had explored and explored and explored.

Geralt frowned at him, “One day, Jaskier, you will get caught and you’ll end up in the stocks.”

Waving off the warning, Jaskier walked around Geralt, eyeing his clothes. “Geralt, are you dressed up?”

“No.”

“But you are. And you look stunning may I add. You should dress like this more often, I think.”

Geralt sighed, staring at Jaskier.

“Come now, Geralt, what’s the occasion?”

“I was awarded a plot of land down south and I had to go sign some paperwork.”

Jaskier knew the surprise he was feeling also colored his face as he processed Geralt’s words. Land was amazing, a wonderful opportunity. Geralt had spoken at length about what he would do with his own land, about taking care of his own horses the way he knew best. Of course, they had both always thought it was a silly dream, or at least Jaskier had.

It was… wonderful. Really and truly wonderful that Geralt might have that chance now. But… “So you’ll be leaving then?”

Geralt frowned, “I have no immediate plans to go. I… need to pay off Roach still. But after then, yes.”

Most of the time, Jaskier didn’t mind that he was property of another man. He was well taken care of, clothed and dressed and housed. He wasn’t beaten or starved or mistreated like many other slaves under the ownership of others, really he was quite lucky.

In that moment, though, facing the threat of losing his best friend, he wanted nothing more than to be free.

“I… need to go. I’ve a dinner to attend this evening and I must get ready. It was lovely seeing you, Geralt.”

Geralt spoke behind Jaskier as he scuttled away, but he would be hard pressed to be able to repeat what the other man had said. Jaskier’s thoughts were whirling through his head in clouds of grey as he considered what life at the castle would be like without Geralt. He didn’t want to consider it, let alone live it, and he was rather unexcited at the prospect if he was being honest.

If only he could go with the man.

-

Geralt’s heart ached as he watched Jaskier walk away from him.

He had hoped that he wouldn’t need to mention his leaving until Geralt had settled his plans better, but he couldn’t lie to him. No, he had hoped to bring it up to Jaskier with an offer to accompany him, an offer to buy out his slavery contract and ask him to come with him to Toussaint, to start a new chapter of their lives together.

Jaskier was, after all, the best friend Geralt had ever had. Never in his life would he thought that one of the royal slaves would have walked into his stable with too loud words and an insatiable curiosity and utterly enthrall Geralt. But he had and now Geralt didn’t want to go without the man.

Hopefully, he would be able to earn enough money to buy them both horses as well as purchase Jaskier’s contract, and then they would be able to start their forever, together.

-

Jaskier stared blankly at the paper in his hand. It was a large, legal document, stamped clearly with the royal seal, and though Jaskier was not only literate but also incredibly well educated, he couldn’t seem to understand what it said.

“Geralt, I’m afraid I’m confused. This is a sex slave contract.”

“It is.”

“It… has my name on it.”

“It does.”

“And it has your name on it.”

“Correct.”

“Geralt why does this say that you have purchased possession of me from the crown?”

“Because… I did. I wanted you to have the chance to come with me to Toussaint. If you want to stay here then that’s fine and I’ll let you, but I wanted you to have the choice.”

A choice wasn’t something Jaskier had really gotten throughout most of his life, but he had to admit the concept sounded nice.

Ever since Jaskier’s first heat he’d dreamed of the day he would spend it with an alpha. It would be special, particularly the first time, and he wanted it to be right. A quiet safe place to spend the week, plenty of lavish foods to indulge on before the heat frenzy killed his appetite, and the best nest he could think to build. He knew just the place, too. A property that his family owned and rarely visited wasn’t more than a fortnight out and his heat shouldn’t hit sooner than that. In fact, if he managed to speak to Geralt about it that day, they could likely make it there with enough time to rest before getting ready.

It was the perfect plan. Assuming, of course, that Geralt agreed.

They weren’t lovers, they weren’t bonded, and they weren’t married. But they were important to one another. The best of friends, committed to one another through thick or thin.

Honestly, they kind of were married.

So yes, Jaskier would ask Geralt to spend his heat with him.

-

“Sure.”

Jaskier blinked at Geralt, a stunned silence filling their room. “I ask you to spend my heat with me and all you have to say I ‘sure’?”

Geralt shrugged, “What did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know but maybe something with a bit more enthusiasm would be nice.” He may love Geralt with every fiber of his being, but the man absolutely drove him insane.

“I would be thrilled,” Geralt responded in a deadpan voice, an amused grin on his face.

Crossing his arms, Jaskier glared back at Geralt. The man was infuriating, but Jaskier could never stay mad at him for long. It’s what they did, it was how their relationship worked.

“You’re a bastard and you’re lucky to share my heat with me.”

“Yes, Jaskier, of course.”

The clear sarcasm in Geralt’s voice wasn’t lost on Jaskier, but with a roll of his eyes, he decided to ignore it. As he packed his things, he explained to Geralt where the cottage was and how best to get there and what they would need to get along the way. Geralt’s hums of acknowledgement were a wonderful background to his rambling as he began to get excited for the weeks to come. In less than a month’s time, he would be wrapped up in Geralt’s arms safe and warm and well fucked as they worked through his heat together.

It would be perfect.

-

Jaskier threw his arms wide in excitement as Geralt walked into the room for the first time. The small cozy room in the back of the cottage was just as Jaskier had remembered it from his childhood and he knew in an instant that it was exactly where he wanted to spend his heat. He’d barred Geralt from entering until he was done, instead having the man get supplies ready that they would need while he nested.

And now, with everything absolutely perfect, he was excited to welcome Geralt into the space, into his nest.

“What do you think?” Jaskier could hear the pride in his voice, he knew it was an excellent nest, the construction superb, and he was excited to hear what Geralt thought of it.

Geralt’s brilliant amber eyes roved the room, taking in everything he was presented with before nodding at Jaskier, “Looks good.”

Jaskier would take it.

“Well, I’m all ready. We just have to wait for it to hit, I suppose. It won’t be long; I can feel the pre-heat already.”

An awkward silence settled in the room as the realization of what was going on washed over Jaskier. He’d really and truly asked Geralt to spend his heat with him. And Geralt said yes. So swept up in the excitement of his upcoming heat, of getting here and making everything exactly the way he wanted, he hadn’t planned on any in between time.

“So… until it hits I suppose we can… find something to occupy our time. Oh! I’ve been begging you to show me how to win a round of Gwent with the Skellige deck for ages, how about it?”

“You’ll lose with the Skellige deck just as you lose with all the others.”

“Please Geralt.”

“Far be it for me to deny you, I’ll get the cards.”

By the end of the night, Jaskier couldn’t remember a time he’d laughed harder or felt more carefree and the fact that he got to spend that time with his best friend made it all the sweeter.

“Thank you for being here, Geralt,” Jaskier began earnestly, “I couldn’t be more thankful to you.”

“I’m glad to be of service, bard.”

And in that moment, Jaskier knew that Geralt really, truly meant it. His witcher wanted to be there with him, and that meant everything to Jaskier.

-

“Geralt… do you think we should… y’know. Before my heat?”

“Fuck?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt shrugged, “We can.”

“Alright well I suppose I can’t turn down that kind of enthusiasm now can I?”

Geralt chuckled, “I’ve been told I’m irresistible.”

Jaskier gasped, “Was that a joke? Geralt, did you just tell a joke?”

“Did you want to fuck or not?”

“Well, with that attitude-” Jaskier’s words were cut off as Geralt pulled the man forward, pressing their mouths together. The kiss was innocent, all things considered. A simple press of lips that had Jaskier melting against Geralt, ready for more.

Jaskier could feel the arousal pooling in his core and suddenly he was positive there was nothing he wanted more than to be bent over and fucked within an inch of his life. He pressed against Geralt, their hips flush and Jaskier moaned at the hard line of Geralt’s erection against his own. The man felt huge and Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder if he would even fit inside him. He couldn’t deny that he was eager to try.

Wrenching their mouths apart, Jaskier gasped out in desperation, “Fuck, okay, yes. Fuck me.”

They both stripped perfunctorily, their clothes thrown out of the way hurriedly as they crashed back together. Geralt licked into Jaskier’s mouth and the omega whimpered, pressing his cock up against Geralt’s. The difference between the two men was undeniable, Jaskier might be larger than most omegas, but his cocklet betrayed his sex. He’d never felt smaller though as Geralt wrapped a hand around them both.

Geralt was alpha through and through and Jaskier’s mouth watered at the sight. “I want that in me, right now,” he demanded, lust overwhelming him.

“Present, omega.”

The order shot through Jaskier and he felt himself obeying before he’d even processed it. Fuck, he’d never had alpha voice used on him and what a feeling. It went straight to his head, pleasure clouding his thoughts as he presented his hole, eager to be filled.

The heat of Geralt pressed up behind him was nearly unbearable, it was as if every nerve ending was on fire. A single finger slipped inside of him and he rutted back, eager for more. Geralt worked him open slowly, two fingers and then three and then four until Jaskier was crying, desperate.

“Please, please I need you please fuck me, knot me. Please.”

The sudden emptiness made Jaskier whine, pushing back against Geralt. He was so close to getting what he wanted.

The press of Geralt’s cock against his hole drew a moan from him. The stretch was like nothing he had ever felt before and he knew he’d quickly become obsessed. The sounds of skin slapping together was loud in the small space of the room, accompanied so perfectly by Geralt’s grunt and Jaskier’s keens. The omega was convinced that before that very moment he’d never before felt pleasure. He could feel Geralt’s knot tugging against his opening with each thrust and he couldn’t help but clench down, desperate for it to lock inside of him.

With a final thrust, he screamed as Geralt’s knot pushed inside of him, shaking through his orgasm, his arms giving out beneath him. Carefully, Geralt shifted, laying down behind Jaskier and pulling the omega against his chest. Jaskier let himself drift off into sleep, safe in Geralt’s arms.

-

A raging inferno awoke Jaskier. He could feel heat pouring from every inch of his body and the witcher behind him wasn’t helping.

His hole ached, clenching desperately around nothing. He whined pitifully. His body was on fire in the worst way and he was so desperate for something that he couldn’t describe.

He felt Geralt shift behind him and suddenly panic flooded Jaskier. What was he doing? He was so vulnerable; he couldn’t be there with Geralt. He would be at the witcher’s mercy.

Geralt’s arm wrapped around his waist and Jaskier yelped, trying to squirm away.

“Your heat’s started,” Geralt mumbled sleepily as he nosed at Jaskier’s neck.

Fear shot through Jaskier like lightning, and no matter what, he needed to get away, “Let go of me.”

Geralt hummed confusedly, “Is everything okay?”

“No! I’m in heat! Let go!” Jaskier couldn’t breathe. His body hurt and he wasn’t safe. He needed to get away.

“It’s okay,” Geralt crooned, holding Jaskier closer, “I’m here to help.”

And suddenly Jaskier could feel Geralt’s cock pushing against his entrance and he cried out in shock, “No! No, no, no, no.”

Geralt bottomed out, holding Jaskier steady. The omega could feel his heartbeat in his face, and with every thrust he grew more and more lightheaded.