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Cat got your knot?

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It’s believed that wolves and cats don’t really get along. They can co-exist and interact, yes, but only when it’s absolutely necessary. For the most part they choose not to because it’s not in their nature as a species. Alpha wolves and cats have a tendency to be aggressive towards one another, whereas Betas and Omegas are more manageable.

But an Alpha wolf and Omega cat? That’s an association that’s rarely, if never, heard of.

So when Geralt, an Alpha wolf, met Jaskier, an Omega cat, in Posada all those years ago, he never expected for the feline bard to stick to him, much else befriended him. Jaskier, with his black kitty ears on top of his tousled chestnut hair, almost always has his black fluffy tail held high, alerting Geralt that the young man enjoys being in the wolf’s presence. And Geralt, internally exasperated at his own biological urges, is unable to stop his own fluffy white tail from wagging back and forth, a clear indication that he’s just as happy to have the bard around.

Of course, the beginning of their companionship (friendship?) was filled with arguments and disagreements. It still is to this day, but it was a lot worse then. They’re both territorial creatures, and Jaskier had a tendency to rub his scent all over Geralt’s things, which the wolf witcher didn’t appreciate at first. Then there was the issue of taking on contracts, which Geralt has gotten used to doing on his own. So having Jaskier tag along, prancing about the place while strumming his lute, his black tail poised high as he talks Geralt’s ear off about the monster they’re hunting and the inspiration Jaskier will gain from witnessing the impending fight. It took several months before Geralt got used to having another creature around, his enhanced senses extending to look after his feline friend for any sign of trouble.

Years passed and they slowly grew more comfortable around each other. Geralt still gets pissed and growls at Jaskier whenever he smells the bard’s scent on his things, in which Jaskier would answer with a twitch of his tail. The first time he wrapped his tail around Geralt, it happened a few years into their friendship. They passed by a village who was vitriolic towards Geralt’s kind, spitting vile comments about him. So when he felt a brush of Jaskier’s fluffy tail around his waist, Geralt blinked at the unfamiliar gesture but remained calm. It’s only when they left the village that he allowed his own tail to lightly brush against Jaskier’s rear, who turned to Geralt with a sunny smile, his kitty ears twitching happily.

From that moment, Geralt knew that Jaskier was going to be with him for the long haul. It’s then that he decided to officially welcome Jaskier to his Pack by inviting the feline to winter with him at Kaer Morhen that year.

Jaskier accepted, obviously, and while Geralt was excited, he was also nervous at the prospect of introducing Jaskier to his fellow wolf witchers, not knowing whether his brothers will get along with his feline friend. But his fears were unfounded when Eskel and Lambert reacted favorably to Jaskier and vice versa. Even Vesemir’s grey tail twitched in curiosity upon meeting Jaskier, and his small nod aimed at Geralt was one of approval which made the witcher nearly sag in relief, heedless of his white tail wagging.

Everything was great that winter. Jaskier sang for them almost every night and Geralt took him on a tour around the Keep, showing him his favorite places and voluntarily sharing stories to the eager bard about his time growing up there and what he and his brothers went through to become a witcher.

To say that Jaskier was moved to tears would be an understatement because that night, Jaskier crawled into Geralt’s bed. He curled his body around Geralt, his black fluffy tail wrapping almost possessively around him which made Geralt huff in amusement. But he also wrapped an arm around Jaskier, fingers running through his tousled hair and kitty ears while his own tail curled around the bard’s.


After that, Jaskier always went with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. They still go their separate ways for a few months or an entire season, but they make sure to always reunite by autumn, having agreed beforehand to meet at a city or town.

Even after ten years of traveling together, they still get a lot of stares. Some confused, some frightened, while others give them judgmental stares, eyes drifting from Geralt’s hulking form to Jaskier’s lithe body. Yes, it’s still unheard of for wolves and cats to be voluntarily traveling together, but an Alpha wolf and an Omega cat? Oh, the perverse shit Geralt has heard over the years from passersby.

“The bard is probably the monster’s sex slave.”

“How can a feline degrade themself to a fucking witcher?”

“Melitele, can you smell them? Their scents are basically entwined!”

“I bet the witcher’s knot is magical for the kitty bard to stay with him.”

Geralt doesn’t think that Jaskier ever heard those comments about them, because if he did then his friend would’ve likely gone feral on them - hissing barbed insults at them, body taut and tail puffed up.

Still, given their reputation as traveling companions, it’s a wonder they both managed to have sex at all. Geralt has the brothels while Jaskier has, well, anyone willing to bed a feline bard whose best friend is an Alpha wolf witcher. In the years they’ve known each other, Geralt has never seen Jaskier go into Heat; even the bard admitted that he hasn’t experienced it since he presented as an Omega.

“I guess I haven’t met my mate yet,” Jaskier says with a nonchalant shrug, but Geralt can smell the sorrow and insecurity in the bard’s scent.

Geralt hums and brushes his tail against Jaskier, whose tail is slowly swishing back and forth. The feline looks at him with a sweet smile, and Geralt’s chest tightens at the sight.

He’s been having these peculiar feelings for Jaskier lately. Geralt can’t pinpoint when it began, but he knows he only became aware of it when they reunited a month ago in Oxenfurt. He’s not certain if it’s just a passing thing or something more permanent, but regardless Geralt doesn’t like to see one of his pack members sad. While a part of him is guilty for feeling happy that Jaskier hasn’t met his mate yet, a part of Geralt wishes he could be that person for Jaskier instead. He loves the bard, he’s Geralt’s best friend. He looks after him and cares for him and is there for him whenever Jaskier gets in trouble.

By the time they begin their trek up the Blue Mountains for Kaer Morhen, Geralt has pushed away all thoughts of him and Jaskier becoming more to the back of his mind. There’s no space for silly fantasies in the life of a witcher. The Path is all that matters, and Geralt can’t allow himself such distractions.

And for a while it worked. Barely, but it worked.

Until two years later when Jaskier went into heat in Kaer Morhen.


Geralt takes a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He hears a muffled, “Come in”, before he opens it and quickly gets in, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, I brought you some broth Vesemir prepared,” Geralt announces as he makes his way to the form slumped in the middle of the bed. Like all the other beds in the keep, it’s huge and can accommodate at least three grown witchers, the mattress wrapped in soft, thick furs. “How are you feeling?”

“Like my insides are being scraped by a rusty spoon,” Jaskier croaks out, his smile coming out more as a grimace. His cat ears are turned sideways, chestnut hair disheveled as a few locks of hair cling to his sweaty forehead and neck. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Geralt perches on the side of the bed, breathing carefully through his mouth so as not to inhale more of Jaskier’s tantalizing scent. He’s always smelled a bit like catnip, lavender, and cantaloupe. But now that he’s in the first stage of his heat, Geralt can detect something spicy sweet, as well as something musky that only heats generate. Overall, Geralt is already addicted to Jaskier’s heat scent, his cock hardening further in his loose breeches.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Geralt says as he places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “But like Vesemir said, it would help if you told us who triggered your heat. There’s still time to track them down the mountains.”

Jaskier flushes, ducking his head to spoon soup into his mouth. Geralt cocks his head when he smells a hint of nervousness and embarrassment in his friend’s scent.

“You’re nervous,” he points out. “And embarrassed.” Geralt narrows his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”

“N-nothing!” Jaskier shakes his head, but even Geralt doesn’t need his witcher senses to detect the lie. “It’s nothing, Geralt. It was probably that foxy blacksmith I slept with at the town before last.”

Geralt growls low and continues to look at him, unimpressed.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says in a gruff voice. “Stop lying to me, Jask. Who is it?”

“It’s… I.” Jaskier shakes his head and spoons another mouthful of soup. Beside him, his black, fluffy tail twitches. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.”

Knowing he won’t get an answer if he prods further, Geralt decides to take a different approach. He clears his throat, his turn to be nervous as he psyches himself for what he’s about to ask. Offer. If this is the only time… Geralt internally shakes his head and clears his throat once more. Behind him, his tail twitches nervously.

“Fine. If you don’t want to tell me who, then… I have a suggestion.” Geralt pauses, waiting until he has Jaskier’s full attention, the feline bard tilting his head slightly with a curious glint in his eye. Nodding, Geralt carries on. “If you are amenable, and since it’s your first heat after so long, I... hmm. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat pick up, the bard gulping audibly as he stares wide-eyed at Geralt.

“What are you, um, are you suggesting...” he falters, cheeks darkening.

Geralt slowly nods his head. “I’m offering to, um, help you. With your heat. If that’s okay with you.”

Jaskier is silent for several seconds, and Geralt is starting to become more nervous when --

“Geralt, I…” Jaskier swallows. Geralt can smell the honeyed scent of excitement as Jaskier’s kitty ears perk up, turning wide blue cat-eyes on Geralt’s golden. “You silly witcher, you’re the reason why I’m in heat. It’s you who triggered it.” At Geralt’s stunned silence, Jaskier lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Say something, you brute.”

“So you…” Want to share your heat with me? You’re my mate?

Jaskier, his smile breathtaking and blue eyes blown wide with arousal, nods his head.


I want you with me.

Yes, we’re mates.

Something in Geralt unfurls and snaps. Surging forward, he takes Jaskier’s sweaty face into his hands and kisses him, careful to not knock the tray of hot soup over the bard, his mate. Jaskier lets out a punched out groan as he returns Geralt’s kiss, nipping and sucking as their tongues battle for dominance, quickly turning it into something filthy and scorching.

The next few minutes are a blur. Somehow, in their frenzied state, Geralt managed to set aside the food tray on the cold stone floor as he helped Jaskier get out of his damp clothes. It doesn’t take long for Geralt to shuck off his own garments, his mate pushing down the thick furs to the end of the bed as he turns over on his belly. Jaskier is on his knees and forearms by the time Geralt steps out of his smallclothes, and his arousal spikes when he catches a glimpse of his wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier arches his back, tail flicking in excitement and wiggling his ass at the witcher as he purrs, “That’s the plan, darling. Please, please come and fuck me. Want your knot so bad.”

Fuck, Jask.”

Not needing to be told twice, Geralt gets back on the bed and positions himself behind his needy mate. Licking his lips, Geralt gently pushes the other man’s legs wider before taking his plump cheeks in both hands and spreading them apart. Geralt absentmindedly kisses the fluffy tail curling around his neck, but rather than stick his cock in, Geralt leans closer to Jaskier’s taint and inhales the tantalizing scent. His eyes nearly roll back into his head at the ripe smell of his mate, and without hesitation he buries his face in Jaskier’s cunt, tongue lapping at the sweet juices dripping from his hole.

Jaskier’s gasp of shock quickly turns into a breathless moan, his thighs quivering as Geralt takes the little nub between his lips and sucks.

“Ah, ah!” Jaskier gasps out, his head thrown back in pleasure. “Geralt, I - ah! Fuck!”

Geralt moans from where his tongue is buried inside Jaskier, chest rumbling as he breathes in the sweet, musky smell. He licks into Jaskier’s hot, wet channel before stiffening his tongue and fucking his mate. He uses the hands gripping the cheeks apart to push and pull his mate from his tongue, Jaskier thrusting back against Geralt’s face with expletives and moans that would give a whore a run for their money.

He spends several minutes worshipping Jaskier’s cunt, and he alternates between fucking his loose, wet hole and licking a stripe from his little nub to his tailbone. Jaskier’s fluffy tail twitches and Geralt can’t help but lay a sweet, small kiss at the base before diving back in to lick and taste more of his mate’s sweet juices. Jaskier cums with Geralt’s tongue plunging in and out of his hole, and the witcher laps it all up while Jaskier rides out his orgasm.

Giving one last kiss to the swollen nub, Geralt gets up on his knees once more and grips Jaskier’s hips as he finally guides his cock to his mate’s leaking entrance. He slowly sinks into the tight, wet heat, and loud groans of pleasure echo in the spacious room as Geralt bottoms out.

When he breathes out and inhales, Geralt is then made aware of a new smell. It’s a cloying scent, not overpowering but present, blending perfectly with the existing smells that Jaskier has already been producing. His heat has officially begun.

At the thought of his mate officially in heat, and it’s all thanks to him, Geralt growls low at the back of his throat as he pulls out before thrusting back in. Jaskier’s moans urge him to set a fast and brutal pace, and Geralt is unrelenting as he begins to ram his cock in his mate’s cunt. He has a tight grip on Jaskier’s hips, whose hands are gripping the sheets below as he lets out breathy ah, ah, ah’s as Geralt continues to fuck his brains out.

“So good, so fucking good,” Jaskier chants, eyes hazy with lust and pleasure as he attempts to meet Geralt’s thrusts. Their tails entwine lazily, black and snow white twisting around each other on Geralt’s flanks. “Fuck - ah! Geralt, fuck me harder.”

“Insatiable minx,” Geralt says roughly, but there’s a feral smile on his face. He adjusts his grip and position and does as he’s told. From the new angle he’s fucking Jaskier, and by the deep, throaty moans his mate is emitting, he knows he’s hitting that sweet spot.

Jaskier tuts. “More like an insatiable pussy for you, darling.”

Geralt snorts in amusement and elects not to say anything, except to fuck his insatiable bard harder until Jaskier’s hands are pressed against the headboard to avoid hitting his head. After some time, Geralt presses down against Jaskier’s back to bite and suck a ring of bruises across his shoulders and nape. He trails his hands up to pinch and tweak at Jaskier’s sensitive nipples, the bard howling and buckling against Geralt’s hard thrusts. Geralt lifts his head to nose at Jaskier’s hair and kitty ears, playfully nipping at one twitching ear before licking it.

Jaskier’s breath hitch at the gesture, and Geralt’s knot swells as he inwardly smirks before doing it again. He traces the shape of Jaskier’s feline ear with the tip of his tongue, and below him Jaskier’s breathing quickens, his moans rising an octave higher as Geralt nips it again before moving to the other ear and giving it the same treatment.

“G-Geralt, fuck,” Jaskier mewls. He removes one hand that’s pressed to the headboard to claw at Geralt, blunt nails digging into the meat of the witcher’s hip and ass.

“You like that, kitty?” Geralt purrs in his ear. “You like having a wolf cock in your kitty pussy?”


“So fucking tight and wet for me, kitty. You feel so good, so perfect.”

“F-fuck, Geralt, ”

“What is it you want, kitty?”

“Y-you! Your knot! Want my Alpha’s knot!” Jaskier sobs.

Geralt snarls. “And you’ll have my knot, Omega.”

Half a dozen thrusts later, Geralt brings two fingers to rub at Jaskier’s little nub. And with a final thrust, he pushes his knot inside Jaskier’s tight channel as his mate cums with a scream, body convulsing at the intensity of his second orgasm. Geralt can feel his knot swell, locking the two together as his cock pulses and shoots thick ropes of cum.

After, Geralt carefully arranges them so they’re lying on their sides, still connected as he shoots another load of cum inside Jaskier, his mate purring contentedly in his arms.

“That was incredible,” Jaskier slurs, pessing his sweaty back against the witcher’s front.

Geralt hums contentedly, eyes closed as he breathes in their mixed scents. He kisses the back of Jaskier’s neck and murmurs, “Rest, love.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier hums back. Then after a few seconds of blessed silence, “Then you’ll fuck me again, right? And knot me again?”

Geralt huffs out a laugh and tightens his grip around Jaskier, his hand resting possessively over his mate’s heart.

“I’ll knot you as many times as you want, kitty.”

Jaskier purrs. “Perfect. My Alpha.”

“My Omega,” Geralt rumbles, kissing one of Jaskier’s black kitty ears. “Sleep now, love.”

Jaskier hums and does just that, their tails curled almost protectively around each other as they both fall into a peaceful slumber.