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  1. Tags
    Summary

    A simple job of putting down a gryph quickly goes sideways in the most spectacular way possible. Jaskier as always has tagged along and finds himself close to becoming monster chow while. While he and Geralt make it out alive the battle has some unforeseen consequences.

    His head is pulled to the side as Geralt sinks his teeth in again, and again, and again. Until shaky moans are torn out of his throat, warm blood is smeared against his skin as his doublet is pushed further up. It leaves a trail that a small gust of wind cools down, goosebumps rising on his skin in response.

    “I can smell you, can always smell you.” Smell him? He is starting to think Geralt might have hit his head or something. Because the Witcher was making absolutely no sense. Especially with how- fuck okay- with how he was now rutting against him apparently. And if that wasn’t something. Geralt nuzzled his neck, leaving hickeys and love bites while his hips ground into Jaskier’s.

    “Always smell, but never mine, never for me.” His speech is a little slurred, and it could just be from blood loss be Jaskier is starting to think it might be something else. Specifically whatever poison the gryph had in its tail.

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