#kueble

Have I mentioned lately that I love you? Because I love you.

not just some lay

CW: small cock rights, frottage, oral sex (involving a dick), face riding, mentions of past shaming for small cock, soft tummies

Summary: Jaskier's nerves get the better of him when he falls into bed with Eskel

Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on/off it!

Jaskier dreams of bodies behaving like the sea: rocking gently, swallowing sounds, lapping at the wet edges of each other. Both his heart and his dreaming mind tell him it's Geralt with him. He sees flashes of Geralt's hair, his broad mouth. Feels Geralt's callused hands sweeping over his body with the firm patience he loves. In the dream, they're side by side, sharing kisses, breath. Close enough that every touch touches them both.

The dream fades in and out of focus, like a head bobbing underwater. But it's warm and exciting, not stressful. With his hands on Geralt's body, Jaskier is anchored, safe. It's easy to give himself over to the pleasure as it crests, his hips rising in a wave, semen streaking Geralt's stomach. The last thing Jaskier sees in the dream is Geralt's smile.

He wakes up, his body still shuddering with release. Hips pivoting, wanting the pressure of a warm belly to finish against, finding only the flimsy fabric of his smallclothes, already wet and unsatisfying. Caught between the heat of his dream and the coolness of reality, Jaskier groans. He forgets where he is until Geralt's arm around his waist tightens, pulling him back into the curl of Geralt's body. Geralt's nude, skin hot, as aroused as if he shared Jaskier's dream.

"Are you awake?" Geralt asks, voice rusty. He kisses Jaskier's neck, over the small, sensitive hairs at the hairline. The sensation of the kiss, damp and soft but real, has Jaskier's hips moving again. There's still no friction in front of him, but Geralt's cock is hard in the cleft of his arse.

He rubs against it, sighing, "Yes." He groans again when Geralt's heat leaves him, making room for Geralt pull at him until he's on his back. He expects to be kissed again and is, but instead of his mouth, Geralt kisses the skin below his navel. Tongue out, tasting sweat.

"I had to listen to you the whole time," Geralt purrs, "smell you." His tongue touches the waist of Jaskier's smallclothes, so close to where the fabric is wet. He pulls at the laces holding them up. "What were you dreaming about?"

Jaskier arches obligingly as Geralt peels his smallclothes down his legs and off.

"The ocean," he says, shivering as the air cools his cock. He's half-hard still, still aroused but unfocused.

"Uh-huh," Geralt says, but he's distracted, lapping at the smears of come on Jaskier's belly and hips. He makes an animal sound, his patience while Jaskier slept finally rewarded.

“You taste good,” he grunts, taking the soft, wet head of Jaskier’s cock into his mouth, sucking the spend off.

“Oh!” Jaskier whimpers, body seizing around Geralt, fingers finding his hair, thighs rising against his neck. He tugs, squeezes, overwhelmed after nothing but the touch of his dreams.

Geralt’s mouth softens, releases his sensitive cockhead reluctantly. His tongue is lighter when it trails down to his balls, catching a little more semen. Still, Jaskier shivers. He palms the back of Geralt’s neck, drawing Geralt up until his mouth is on Jaskier’s, a better place for it right now.

They kiss, all Jaskier is good enough for, while Geralt works his own cock between them. As he gets closer, his hips press against Jaskier’s, his cock sliding into the crease of Jaskier’s thigh, nudging under his balls. Seeking friction.

If Jaskier thought he could handle it, he’d let Geralt fuck him. The thought warms his belly, but he knows it’d be too much right now. And besides, it’s too late, Geralt’s mouth and his hand going sloppy as he starts to come. He fills Jaskier’s mouth with moans as he comes over Jaskier’s balls, his cock, his belly.

Geralt keeps his mouth on Jaskier’s until his own shuddering has stopped, his come already cooling on Jaskier’s skin. He pulls away slowly, hanging his head, balancing with one hand on Jaskier’s knee.

Geralt snarled at the poor man behind the market stall that held up a thick red woollen cloak. He couldn’t get Jaskier a red cloak. Jaskier didn’t wear red. Not anymore. His heart clenched in his chest as he remembered the tears shining in Jaskier’s eyes as Geralt broke his heart. The words more harmful than any poison or stroke of his sword. He’d been trying to protect Jaskier by pushing him away but it had ended up hurting him more. Geralt would never stop trying to make up for that.

“No,” He growled. “Not red.”

The merchant visibly paled and Geralt wrinkled his nose at the bitter scent of fear. He grunted and moved away from the stall. He wouldn’t find Jaskier’s gift for the winter solstice there. It had to be perfect. It was their first winter together as a couple and Jaskier’s first winter at Kaer Morhen.

He moved onto the next stall. His purse felt lighter just looking at the fancy jewellery. He was sure Jaskier would love it all but he just couldn’t afford it. The prices weren’t made for a witcher’s wage. With a heavy heart he moved onto the next stall without a second glance. There were candles and small vials of oil on this table. Geralt had to hold his breath. The combination of scents were overwhelming but underneath it all he could smell chamomile and lavender. He focussed on that. They kept him grounded, reminded him of Jaskier.

“Lavender oil, how much?” He asked.

He managed to haggle with merchant and at last he had two neatly wrapped vials in his pocket along with a softly scented candle. He would tuck some holly into the twine before gifting it to Jaskier. It would be the perfect solstice gift. He hoped. He tried to tell himself that Jaskier would be pleased no matter what but he was stressed. He’d never cared this much about a present this much before. He’d grown up with the other witchers of Kaer Morhen, buying their gifts were second nature but Jaskier….

Jaskier was different.

He’d neglected Jaskier for far too long. He was done taking advantage of his best friend.

“Geralt!” A familiar voice yelled and he groaned.

“Lambert. What a pleasant surprise,” he muttered sarcastically.

“I’m a delight and you know it, wolf.” Lambert clapped him over the back and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Shopping?”

“Need to get Jaskier’s gift.”

Lambert cackled. “Oh first solstice as lovers! This sets the precedent for the rest of your relationship you know.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks. That really helps.”

“You’re bringing him home this year right?” Lambert asked as they walked through the market back towards the tavern.

“Starting to change my mind.”

“Don’t be such a grump, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

It was going to be a long winter this year, and he was dreading it.

you sure can, fam

---

Geralt was laying on his back on his bed, the furs smooth and warm beneath him. Jaskier was a comfortable weight on his chest, the usually miniscule fairy now fully human-sized and starfishing across his body. He could feel his wife’s nose twitching against his neck as he snored and snuffled.

He let the palm of his hand settle against the base of Jaskier’s spine, beneath his wings, the fingers spreading out to reach as much skin as possible. The other hand found his wife’s pale arm, rubbing up and down the soft skin, feeling the dark hair tickle against his callouses. 

“Sleep sweetly, love. I’ll watch over you.”

Kate, darling, I LOVE CUTE PUPPIES

-

“No.” When Yennefer’s girlfriend had texted her that morning saying she had a surprised, Yennefer had been expecting a fancy bottle of wine or a new bath bomb or a vibrator, not a puppy.

Renfri looked at Yennefer with doe eyes, the small puppy cradled delicately in her arms, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“We aren’t keeping it.”

Renfri whined pitifully as the puppy licked at her face and squirmed in her grip, “We have to.”

“No.”

“We can’t take him back. Yenna, this is his home now. It would be cruel to go back to the shelter.” Renfri was walking closer, holding the puppy out in front of her. 

Yennefer glared at Renfri before diverting her gaze to the puppy. It was small, not even the length of Renfri’s forearm and it was incredibly fluffy and brown. 

It was cute.

“Fine. But I’m not walking it.”