#lamskier

[dragonsandwolvesohmy]

So... anyone know a fic featuring a Medallion tree where it's explained to Jaskier what it is and what it means???

[restless-witch]

varieties of exile - geraskier in drabbles - pt 6

Witcher 3 + Netflix / This part is rated M for non-explicit sex* and references to childhood abuse/trauma/scarring / Geralt & Jaskier, Lambert/Jaskier, Eskel/Jaskier

*as in, they’re 100% about to have sex.... but it’s not smutty, they’re talking

sort of a... three times witchers asked Jaskier about his scars 

They all ask about the scars- most anyone who saw them did. There's a reason Jaskier likes to be on top, likes to have lovers crawl up between his legs, isn't caught unaware on his back. The Witchers ask with a bit more tact than most curious lovers, in a way. 

Geralt saw them when they were washing "all our fucking clothes" in the Solveiga. It was their last chance for plentiful and clean water before they scaled one of the Fiery Mountains (the first time both had been so far from home, neither could name the peaks they scaled) in search of a stranded desperate basilisk. Jaskier weighed the consequences of insisting on wearing his small clothes versus Geralt's exasperation and having to possibly wear crunchy linen a week from then when he was also miserable from the hot and the dry-

well. 

After all their clothes have been scrubbed and scoured and hung over branches and Jaskier is primly nestled on Roach's saddle blanket and asking about the properties of blowball as a reagent and stretching to see if he can still press his palms flat on his toes, and it only took those two seconds for Jaskier to feel the weight of Geralt's gaze slide over the zig-zagging red knotty flesh across his thighs that was looking so much better after years of salves and oils.

He couldn't even be that mad at Geralt: spotting flashes of color and movement constantly saved his life. 

It was hours later, fully clothed again and unstringing his lute, that Geralt poked at the fire and asked how long Jaskier had been following him.

Jaskier hid his smile into her luscious pegbox, "Our fourth anniversary is in twelve days," he teasingly arched out a leg and unhooked a string from a peg, "a full fortnight into Blathe. I couldn't have guessed you'd come from my jumping-wish."

Geralt was silent and Jaskier coiled the string into a bag; he looked across the fire and saw Geralt's narrowed eyes, his grip on the stick white knuckled and Jaskier wondered if a lesser man would shake, "They would've been fresh when you followed me."

Jaskier pressed his lips together, searching Geralt's eyes which are mysteriously full of a strange untapped old rage that Jaskier cannot yet name. "Not so fresh," he said cautiously, picking his words carefully, "I was young and jumping over fires- I think that's well enough to follow a witcher."

Geralt's brow eased, softening with something Jaskier thinks is affection, "It's not. But you were."

.

Lambert is as Lambert does. He pounced between Jaskier's legs and was nosing behind his knees, eyes closed and moaning into the soft flesh. And his fingers really started digging into his thighs and when he looked down, saw the soft messy cords, there's no hesitation before he locked their fingers together (Jaskier's knees still on his shoulders) and asked, "who did this to you?"

Which is so utterly endearing and so Lambert that that almost makes Jaskier cry which only tightens Lambert's grip and the witcher is reassuringly nosing at the soft parts of his belly which is so stupid sweet-

Jaskier supposed there was a reason they were called the wolves of Kaer Morhen. 

Jaskier rubbed their knuckles into Lambert's scalp, "does it make it better if I tell you they're dead?" he mused.

It must, for Lambert gave him a feral grin and rumbled into his thighs.

.

Eskel didn't ask. 

Not with words. 

He didn't even blink when he saw them the first time, merely kept mouthing his way up Jaskier's calves.

He doesn't pay them any special attention until Eskel was passing through Skellige and Jaskier was trying to charm his way into a Jarl's library and the witcher's approval was enough for Jaskier to scour the library with Eskel's chaperonage. Jaskier would have felt awful holding Eskel back, but the thunderous storm outside promised days of rain and lightning that he'd rather not subject Scorpion to (never mind that Eskel was the one who told him of the obscure tome). 

It should have been a wonderful night to sleep: the stone walls of the castle keeping out the rain and letting the deep drumming sound lull the keep into rest. 

But the swells of a true Skelligan squall are still enough to cause the scars to swell and burn after all these years, even as they've mostly faded to glossy pale stripes. The ache was bearable, but made him restless. Made him want to scrub at them until the sharp pain glossed over the deep ache or he tore the flesh away entirely.

Pressed up behind him, tip to toe, Eskel's lips brushed his hair, "I can feel them, like fire," he gently kissed Jaskier's ear, "it's a nice change for you to be the warm one, but if they're causing you pain- I could help."

In the darkness, it was easy for Jaskier to nod and Eskel gently guided his limbs until Jaskier was curved away from him and he carefully traced his fingers up and down Jaskier's flanks. After a minute, when the rhythmic touch melted Jaskier, he felt Eskel's hands change-

well, change wasn't the right word.

Eskel's hands felt the same as always- smoothly calloused and firm and gentle and familiar- but Jaskier felt something immaterial begin to hum along his hands. Dimly, Jaskier recalled Geralt having a weird rant about Eskel's strength with signs and his "literally magic hands" (well, if the shoe fits); all thoughts left his head entirely when Eskel's fingers started to knead into the scars, dissipating anything in the world besides the absolute relief he feels when the feverish skin starts to drain and mellow and calm and Gods he couldn't love Eskel anymore than this.

The tears came quietly, soft little shuddering breaths, and felt good and he shook his head when Eskel asked, "too much?"

The words drained out too- unbidden and raw, they dripped from Jaskier's lips.

"My family sent me away," Eskel's hand didn't slip, but soothing curls started to pepper the rhythmic pressing, "you've seen my ring, well-" Jaskier let the thick sob out with his breath, "Redanians don't kill bad heirs. They train them for battle."

Eskel pressed soft open mouthed kisses down his spine; in the darkness it's easier to tell Eskel about the temple school and the garrison, about other weak and disfigured and soft heirs sent to die from exhaustion or wanting, about those who made it through their military career unable to rule or sire an heir of their own. The magic eases from Eskel's hands when they're tightly coiled together and Jaskier learns of Deidre.

After the shuddering calms, they slept through the night and into the morning. The storm still raged and the castle was quiet and slumbering. Eskel brought warm chicory to bed and told Jaskier of the Trials. 

Gods he couldn't love Eskel anymore than this.

.

A/N- Encouragement and kind words will always make me more excited to write stuff <3 and feel free to dash off a message to me! I haven’t really made any friends in the fandom yet :3c

Thanks for reading, friends!

Rough and tumble ragged drafts on tumblr here: actual fic varieties of exile

Polished chapters on ao3 here: Varieties of Exile

[beli-heart]

Lamskier reading nook comfort

Jaskier doesn’t mind being distracted by Lambert kissing his cheek. 🫧💕

[witchersgoldenbard]

Caffeine and Forehead Kisses

It's been one of those months where it seems like the whole world needs Jaskier to be there, to listen and to fix their problems. And Jaskier loves it, usually, but it's getting out of hand and he desperately needs a break from everything. Thankfully, Lambert is there to save the day - and to send him pictures of otters in funky hats.

wc: 1.9k | tags: modern au, established relationship, protective lambert, jaskier has anxiety, slightly nonverbal jaskier

read on ao3 | for @karolincki​ my beloved 💛

Everything in Jaskier is longing to scream until his throat is raw enough to justify calling in sick for the next two to four business months. His anxiety is through the roof, his skin tingling every time his phone vibrates with another message, his laptop pings with a new email or his coworkers stop by his desk to have a little chat. He wants to scream, but the very thought of that makes his already shaking hands tremble even more, and he has to work himself through the sixth breathing exercise that day alone. It’s not even 3pm yet.

Reaching for his phone, he ignores all the notifications and instead goes to his chat with Lambert. 

Jask [2:21 pm] - i want to go home 

Jask [2:21 pm] - tell my mom to come pick me up 

Jask [2:22 pm] - or better yet, you come pick me up 🥺☹️

It doesn’t take long for Lambert to come online and for Jaskier to get a text back. 

Lambi 🦌 [2:24 pm] - I’ll be there at 4 with sugar and caffeine, yeah? 

Jask [3:24 pm] - i love you more than words can express. but also please something with cinnamon? 👀

Lambi 🦌 [2:25 pm] - Done 

Lambi 🦌 [2:25 pm] - Here, have pictures of otters in hats 

Lambi 🦌 [2:25 pm] - 5 attachments

As Jaskier scrolls through the pictures and shakes his head at how wonderfully inept his boyfriend is when it comes to emotions while still managing to cheer him up each and every time, the itch under his skin subsides. He doesn’t want to scream anymore, instead all he wants now is to hug Lambert and to just exist in his arms for the rest of the day with nothing but caffeine, sugar and forehead kisses. 

When 4pm finally rolls around, Jaskier all but jumps out of his chair, grabs his stuff without so much as a goodbye, and races down the stairs to find Lambert waiting for him. That wonderful, wonderful man with his ginormous coffee travel mug and a cinnamon roll the size of Jaskier’s fist, his arms opened wide in invitation that Jaskier only too gladly accepts. 

“I love you,“ he tells Lambert, pressing a kiss to his cheek. „I love you, I love you, I love you.“ 

Standing out here now, the sun on his face, breathing in Lambert’s familiar scent, all the tension falls from his shoulders. It almost leaves him feeling hollow, but he tries not to think about that too much.

“Just admit it, you love the coffee more,“ Lambert sighs as he presses the mug into Jaskier’s delighted hands. 

It is then that Jaskier realises he hasn’t eaten anything yet today, and that the dull ache just above his eyebrows might actually be caused by drinking too little. He’s not been great at taking care of himself between Essi’s broken heart, Yen’s latest mood swings, reminding Eskel of his worth and value, and just taking on everyone’s problems. He’s Jaskier, taking care of people is what he does. He shouldn’t complain that they love him, that they trust him enough with their deepest and darkest parts and value his input. 

And the tricky thing is, he does love being there for them. Loves being the person they confide hin, loves existing in other people’s lives as the one person who always has the right thing to say, who can always solve their problems. A bit of sunshine on an otherwise dreary day. 

But now the headaches are getting stronger, his anxiety is through the roof, he can barely focus on work, and even though there are so many things he wants to ask Lambert, wants to tell him, he finds that his throat is constricting. In fact, the very thought of talking to him makes his skin tingle again. 

“You okay?” Lambert asks, and Jaskier only nods as he sips his coffee. “Come here.” 

The words are gentle and Jaskier doesn’t even hesitate before he leans into Lambert’s chest, lets the other man’s arms close around him and his one wish of existing in his love’s arms with coffee and pastries comes true. A gentle kiss is pressed to his forehead, another to his temple, and Jaskier wants to cry. 

“Wanna go home?” Lambert asks, and Jaskier nods hesitantly. Not yet, he thinks. Let me have this first. 

Lambert hums and rubs his hands over Jaskier’s arms, replacing the tension there with warmth. 

“In a minute?”

He nods again, relieved that Lambert always, always understands him. 

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” 

No. Can’t talk. He shakes his head. 

“That’s fine,” Lambert promises. “Take your time. I’ve got you.” 

They stay like that for another ten minutes before Jaskier has finished the coffee and the cinnamon roll, and has breathed in enough of Lambert to feel like he can walk without tripping over the weight of everything that’s pulling him down. Lambert’s hand at the small of his back is his anchor, and Jaskier kisses him deeply before accepting the offered front seat in the car. 

He might be gruff, that love of his, but he never fails to hold open the car door for Jaskier, and it melts his heart every time. Even when they fight, even when one of them is pissed at the other, Lambert holds the door open until Jaskier is sitting comfortably. 

I love you, he would say if he had any words left. 

His phone vibrates. 

Jaskier wants to cry again. 

***

Lambert’s worried eyes rest on him heavily and Jaskier hates it. Doesn’t want to make him worry, doesn’t want to cause any distress. 

His phone vibrates again and he sees it’s a message from Essi, but before he can unlock his phone, Lambert snatches it from him. 

“You’re not here, Jask,” he says gently, holding onto the phone. “Is this what it’s about, what has you so completely exhausted that you’ve gone full nonverbal on me? Why you’re not eating, not sleeping?” 

There’s no judgment in his voice, no disdain, but the worry is so clear that Jaskier can’t stop his eyes from filling with tears. He looks away, holding out his hand for his phone but Lambert doesn’t relent. Instead, he ducks his head to meet Jaskier’s eye again. 

“You know you don’t owe anyone your time, right?” 

It stings. It stings because no, he doesn’t. 

“You don’t always have to be there for everyone, Jask.” 

That’s easy for him to say, though, because Lambert is only ever on his phone for Jaskier anyway, barely talks with his brothers about heavy topics because these three men have a different way of communicating that kind of stuff, and Lambert never has to navigate someone else’s bad days and relationship with themself. 

He frowns, demands his phone. This could be important, Essi could need him, Yen could be apologising, Eskel could be thought dumping on him about what it means to be aroace and Jaskier needs to be there to stop the self loathing before it can even start because in this world it is just way too easy to spiral out of control and he doesn’t want to be at fault, not when he could have stopped it, not when— 

“Hey, breathe,” comes Lambert’s voice through the haze of his mind, and before Jaskier realises what’s happening, he finds himself in Lambert’s lap on their couch, breathing through the tears and failing, failing, failing. “Come on, love, in and out. With me. You’ve got this, come on. In. Yes, like that. And out. Hold it for a second. And in again. Yes, you’re wonderful.” 

It helps. 

It’s good. 

Everything is fine. 

It helps. 

Until his phone vibrates again and Lambert growls, pulling Jaskier closer until his nose is tucked into the other man’s neck. 

“I’m going to text them, okay? Whoever it is, I’m gonna tell them that you need a break. And then I’m gonna draw you a bath, get that tension out of your shoulders. Make you eat. And we’re gonna snuggle up right here with Midnight in Paris, alright? Then, if you have words, you’re gonna tell me what’s weighing down that beautiful mind of yours, okay?” 

Jaskier only nods, wants to cry out in relief, wants to hide, to run, to not be so weak. Wants his skin to stop tingling, his lungs to stop aching, his mind to stop racing. He wants a world where there is only himself and Lambert and everyone’s problems disappear until Jaskier has learned to breathe again. 

“I love you,” Lambert tells him then, fingers running through his hair, massaging his scalp until Jaskier feels like all that’s left of him is a puddle. “You get to take breaks. You’re too good for the world, man. I don’t know how you do it. You’re, like. The best person I know. The best. Because you care so much, because you always want to help, because you’re just… You. But you gotta believe me when I say that more often than you think, being you is already enough. You don’t gotta be everyone’s therapist, everyone’s saviour, everyone’s emergency contact. Hell, you don’t even gotta be everyone’s friend! You just gotta be Jaskier. My Jask. That’s more than enough. And if the world complains about it, I’m just gonna punch it in the face.” 

That last part is said with an audible grin, and Jaskier sobs, laughs, doesn’t even fucking know what he’s feeling anymore. 

But when he finally stills, when his mind feels empty like his tears have washed away every single thought, he reaches for Lambert’s hand and joins their fingers. Not a second later, Lambert raises their joined hands to his lips and presses one, two, three kisses to his knuckles. 

“You back with me?” 

Jaskier shakes his head, just to be difficult, and Lambert chuckles. 

“Yeah, you’re back alright. Come on, let’s get you into the tub, yeah?” 

He doesn’t budge an inch, but that has never stopped his boyfriend who unceremoniously gets up from the couch with Jaskier still clinging to him as though he wears nothing. Stupid muscly mechanic that can carry him around however he pleases. He loves him so much. Still, he punches him in the chest and revels in the laugh he gets for it. 

In the bath, there is no phone to vibrate, no call to answer, no email to read. There are not expectations. Only Lambert with his wonderful hands, and Jaskier leans back and closes his eyes. 

“That’s it,” his love rumbles behind him. “Just relax, baby, I’ve got you.”

Jaskier hums and believes it. Thinks of otters in stupid hats, thinks of car doors, of Lambert threatening to punch the world in the face if it won’t let Jaskier believe that he is enough. He thinks of coffee with too much sugar in it, just the way Jaskier needs it. Thinks of leftover lasagna and cuddles on the couch. 

Knows that he wants this for the rest of his life. Maybe he should start looking at rings. 

[softnoblecyno]

Everything I Wanted

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion+Lambert, that's for the qpr, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Additional Tags: Cuddling & Snuggling, queer platonic relationship, jaskier and lambert are in a qpr, Winter at Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Caring Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Lambert (The Witcher), Polyamory, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Some Humor, Banter, Established Relationship, Napping

on ao3

Geralt’s room at Kaer Morhen is simple and comforting. There’s a fireplace, as there is in each of the witcher’s rooms, along with a bed and a bathtub. So far Jaskier finds himself most familiar with the bed, where he and Geralt are tangled now. Geralt rests behind him, the witcher’s chest firm against his back, a furnace to keep him warm so far from the fire. Geralt’s hand lifts and brushes over his temple, his fingertips brushing gently across his skin, tracing his hairline down to the front of his hair and back, following the pattern a few times. Jaskier sighs, content, and Geralt echoes it before bringing his arm back to curl around Jaskier’s waist. The witcher covers him, protects him, makes him feel safe; safe in a different way than there’s no imminent danger, although Geralt does that for him, too. No, right now, in their old keep, he could never be in danger. The other feeling of safe is more… right. Being in Geralt’s arms settles a part of him that, at many times, can be settled no other way.

“It’ll be dinner time soon.” Geralt’s voice is low, comforting, and clear. His head is set just behind Jaskier’s on the pillows.

Jaskier rubs his socked foot up and down the witcher’s calf in acknowledgement and a burst of affection, then hums. “Mm. Yeah. Last night Lambert said it was your turn to cook?”

His boyfriend hums back at him in response. Jaskier presses his face into the pillow to smother a smile. “I only have to cook vegetables on the stove. Won’t take me very long.”

Jaskier giggles, the sound too loud to be covered by the pillow. He takes his face out of the fabric, since Geralt is aware of his joy now anyway. “You don’t have to get out of bed yet, you mean.”

A low, rumbling laugh intertwines with the remainders of Jaskier’s as Geralt nuzzles his nose into the hair behind Jaskier’s ear. He whispers, teasingly and pleased, “We don’t.”

They’re quiet for a long moment. The only sounds around them are the rush of the winter winds against the keep’s stone walls, the crackle of the fireplace across the room, and their soft, calm inhales.

Geralt breaks the silence with his lovely voice, still sleep-rough even though they’ve been up for hours. “I’m glad that you two… have what you have.”

“Me and Lambert?” Jaskier clarifies, even though he knows what Geralt means anyway.

Geralt hums in lieu of a verbal answer. Jaskier laughs again, unable to catch it in time to smother it like he did before. Geralt shoves his knee into the back of Jaskier’s in reprimand, but Jaskier knows he isn’t actually angry. Can feel his joy floating in the air around them.

“Yes,” Geralt says. “It’s… I like to see you two bonding, or spend time together or whatever you get up to. It’s comforting to know that because of your… relationship,” Geralt stumbles over what to call them and it makes Jaskier smile, if only because he and Lambert struggle to define it in the same way. “Lambert finally has someone he can trust who isn’t just one of us. You’re good for him.”

Warmth curls in Jaskier’s chest and suffuses his body in happiness, tingling under his skin. He sighs, pleased, and allows the relaxation to spread through his entire being. “I’m glad.” He snuggles deeper into Geralt. “He’s good for me too, you know. It’s not a one-way street.”

“Good.”

Geralt’s hand slips up his side, along his bicep, over his jaw, and hooks on his chin, tilting Jaskier’s face toward him. Jaskier shivers pleasantly and leans into the touch, craning his neck so that he can kiss Geralt while they stay close, still spooning. His witcher’s lips are warm and gentle, and he kisses Jaskier as he always does: sweet and slow and oh-so passionate.

The door creaks open.

“Fuck, you two are busy.” It’s Lambert. Jaskier pulls away from Geralt’s lips and turns forward to find his best friend hanging awkwardly in their door frame, one hand still gripped tight around the door handle and a nervous look on his face. Jaskier’s chest aches at the sight. “I’m sorry, I can leave—”

read the rest on ao3!

@jaskierswolf​

[eratobard]

Mouth to Mouth: Chapter 7

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Lamskier, Lambert x Jaskier

Rating: M

Tag warnings: Anal fingering, anal sex, 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | AO3

~~~

Lambert growled in frustration as he tried to maintain the speed limit on the way to his place. Jaskier had a hard time keeping his hands to himself as he palmed at the front of Lambert’s jeans. “Fuck Jaskier… I’m not going to last if you keep--” Lambert grunted as he jerked the wheel, almost missing the turn onto his street.

Jaskier giggled as he moved his hand to his thigh, “Sorry, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I couldn’t help myself.”

Lambert knew it was a straight shot from here to his house. He fought the urge to speed down the neighborhood road. Safety first.

It was a few agonizing minutes later when they pulled into his driveway. Lambert barely had a chance to unbuckle his seatbelt before Jaskier was on him. Jaskier crawled onto Lambert’s lap as his tongue dived into his mouth. Lambert couldn’t believe how perfect Jaskier felt against him. 

He wrapped his hands around Jaskier’s pert ass and squeezed, drawing a moan from the younger man. He carried Jaskier with him as he exited his car, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jaskier kissed along his neck as he made his way up the driveway, and to his front door. He propped Jaskier against it as he ground his hips against him.

“Fuck… just take me right here,” Jaskier groaned.

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine at the sound of Lambert’s deep chuckle, “Almost there.” Lambert made quick work of the door and Lambert was bounding up the stairs two at a time as Jaskier clung to him. Jaskier squeaked as Lambert tossed him onto his bed. He had very little time to take in his surroundings before his attention was directed to Lambert removing his shirt and crawling onto the bed after him.

Jaskier swore as he licked his lips, and worked on prying off his own clothes, starting with his annoyingly tight trousers. Lambert watched as he removed his own jeans at a teasingly slow pace. Jaskier kicked his pants off, flinging them to the floor, his erection tenting his boxer briefs. He huffed at Lambert to pick up the pace, “I don’t… I don’t want to go first.” 

Jaskier could feel his face warming as Lambert gazed at him. He chewed his bottom lip nervously. A brief moment of seriousness passed over Lambert as he kissed Jaskier’s anxiety away. He ran his hand along Jaskier’s thigh soothingly and nodded, “I’ll get completely naked first, but just know, I’m going to like whatever I see.”

Jaskier nodded, and felt a bit better as he watched Lambert finish undressing. His eyes ran down his chiseled abs, following the defined ‘V’ that directed perfectly to the unveiling of his groin. Lambert got off the bed for a moment to pull the rest of his clothes off. Jaskier took a sharp intake of breath as he watched Lambert’s erect cock spring free. 

“It’s perfect,” Jaskier sighed happily. His face immediately reddened as he realized what he said. He groaned as he covered his face and flopped back onto the mattress, “Oh Melitele, just kill me now.”

Lambert chuckled as he climbed back onto the bed, “Ask her later, I’d much rather have sex with you if you don’t mind.”

Jaskier squeaked as Lambert was suddenly on top of him and kissing him again. He mumbled against his lips, “Alright… I guess I can delay my death by embarrassment a bit.”

“Good,” Lambert smirked. He hooked a finger over the top of Jaskier’s boxer briefs, “Ready for these to come off or do you want to get rid of your shirt first?”

Jaskier swore when he realized he had forgotten to remove his shirt. He quickly undid the buttons, almost ready to rip his shirt off with how long it was taking. “I’m usually better at this, I promise. You just… I get so flustered around you.”

Lambert hummed as he watched Jaskier throw his shirt across the room, “I know what you mean.” He snaked a hand behind Jaskier’s head and pulled him in for a kiss. “You make me feel the same way.”

Jaskier wrapped his arms around Lambert’s neck as they laid back onto the bed. The urgency from earlier had died down, but the heat was still there as Lambert thoroughly fucked his tongue into Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier gasped for breath when they finally broke the kiss. He whined with need as he rocked his hips up against Lambert’s, “I find that hard to believe…”

Lambert swore, digging his fingers into Jaskier’s hip as he returned the friction, “Fuck… believe it. You can ask Aiden. I was a mess when I saw you at the bar.”

A pink blush tinted Jaskier’s cheeks as his too perfect blue eyes gazed up at Lambert. He bit his lip nervously, “Really?”

Lambert smiled as he brushed some strands of hair out of Jaskier’s face and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Really,” he breathed, “I wanted to drag you into the bathroom and fuck you over the sink.” He kissed Jaskier again, biting and pulling at his lower lip as he did so.

“Fuck… Lambert,” Jaskier keened. He tangled his fingers through Lambert’s curls and wondered why it had taken him so long to do it. “I need you to fuck me.”

Lambert grinned and reached into the nearby nightstand, “I can do that.” He pulled out a couple condoms and some lube. He snapped the waistband of Jaskier’s underwear eliciting a squeak from the younger man. “You’re going to have to remove these before I can,” he grinned.

Jaskier accidentally pulled Lambert’s hair in his nervousness, earning him a groan. “Sorry...” Jaskier mumbled, “can you do it?”

Lambert nodded as he gently ran his hand along Jaskier’s torso, “I can… but we can stop, if you don’t want to continue. It’s not too late. Never in fact. We could be mid-thrust and if you say stop, we stop. Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Fucking hell,” Jaskier never felt more turned on in his entire life, “I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone more than you right now. Yes, please remove my underwear and fuck me thoroughly into this mattress.”

Lambert squeezed Jaskier’s hip as he swore under his breath, “Alright, but remember--”

Jaskier smiled as he kissed him, “Yes, I know. I promise I’ll tell you if I want to stop.”

Lambert kissed him back as he slipped off his boxer briefs. They continued to kiss as Lambert reached his hand between them and gave Jaskier’s member a few strokes. Jaskier jerked his hips up into the touch as he gasped against his lips. Lambert hummed as he moved to kiss against Jaskier’s neck, “Fuck Jask… you fit so fucking perfect in my hand.”

Jaskier tossed his head back with a groan, “If that’s ah! If that’s a polite way of saying my-- fuck! dick is small…”

Lambert shook his head as he spread Jaskier’s legs and moved his hand down to palm at his ball sack, “I mean it Jaskier, everything about you… you feel so perfect against me.” He positioned his cock between Jaskier’s cheeks and slid his shaft along the cleft. “It’s like you were made for me.��

“Melitel’s fucking tits… please get your fat cock in me now,” Jaskier panted. He gripped his ass cheeks and spread them as he widened his legs farther for Lambert. Lambert almost blew his load right there, seeing Jaskier present himself like that. He quickly opened the bottle of lubricant and poured it generously over his fingers.

Jaskier tilted his hips into the touch as Lambert pressed the first finger against his entrance. He gasped as he felt his finger penetrate him. Lambert slowly pistoned in and out. Jaskier shifted impatiently as the friction soon wasn’t enough. “Another, please,” Jaskier whined.

Lambert laughed and Jaskier didn’t think he could find someone’s laugh to be so attractive, yet here he was feeling waves of heated pleasure wash over him. “I should have known you were an impatient one,” Lambert smirked as he inserted another finger alongside the first.

Jaskier pouted, but it was quickly wiped away as Lambert brushed against his prostate. Jaskier’s body jolted away from the mattress, “Lambert…! Oh fuck, you fucking tease!”

“I’m the tease?” Lambert growled low, “Who came to my class practically begging to be taken in front of all my students?” He crooked his finger more firmly against the sweet spot in Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s cock spurted precum as he bucked against him,”Fuck-- You thought that was begging? I’ll show you begging. Please Professor Lambert, fill me to the brim with your thick dick. Pump me full of your hot creamy cum so I’ll feel it dripping down my thighs for days afterward.”

Lambert growled as he spread his fingers, stretching Jaskier open. “Fuck Jask, if that’s what you want I’ll gladly give it to you.”

“Promises, promises,” Jaskier moaned as he moved his hips to thrust Lambert’s fingers deeper.

Lambert gripped Jaskier’s hip with his other hand to still him. He nipped at Jaskier’s neck, “Prep first.”

“Boo,” Jaskier pouted but was then cut off by a moan as Lambert started in with three fingers, opening him wider. He spread more lubricant inside Jaskier. Jaskier groaned as Lambert continued to stretch him open, massaging his insides.

“Almost done,” Lambert murmured against Jaskier’s skin as he placed kisses along his neck. 

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered closed as Lambert’s fingers grazed tauntingly against his prostate. “Bastard,” he swore.

Lambert’s laugh rumbled in his chest, the vibration sending a shiver over Jaskier, “You ready for my thick dick?”

Jaskier lifted his head and watched as Lambert opened a condom with his teeth, sliding it carefully over his hardened member. “Please Professor Lambert, teach me about the birds and the bees,” Jaskier smirked as he tilted his hips toward him.

Lambert had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from blowing his load. “You’re going to be the fucking death of me…” Lambert growled. Jaskier wiggled in excitement as Lambert pressed his cock head against his entrance. Jaskier gasped as Lambert pushed past the tight ring of muscle. 

He moaned as Lambert continued to slide further in. Lambert rubbed a hand soothingly along Jaskier’s thigh as he paused to give him time to adjust, “Good?”

Jaskier nodded his head, breathing out a reply, “Yes, more, please…”

Lambert chuckled, “Sure thing, I got some left to give.” 

Jaskier gripped the sheets, his hips rolling up to meet Lambert’s as he sank deeper. When he was fully sheathed in Jaskier, the latter moaned, “Fuck… so fucking full…”

Lambert swore as he felt Jaskier clench around him, “Still okay?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jaskier breathed, “move, please…”

Lambert complied, rolling his hips slow and steady, drawing moans out of Jaskier with each thrust. “You feel so fucking good around my cock…” Lambert groaned.

Jaskier’s head tilted back onto the mattress as pleasure shivered along his spine, exposing his neck. Lambert couldn’t help but lean down and suck bruises into the pale column of skin. 

Jaskier’s fingers tangled in Lambert’s curls. He praised and cursed Lambert’s name as he was taken closer to the edge. Lambert grunted as Jaskier pulling his hair sent pleasure-pain zipping down his back. “So good for me,” Lambert praised as he angled his hips, seeking a better position to pound into Jaskier’s prostate.

He knew he found it when Jaskier tightened his grip in his hair, his head falling back as he cried out with each thrust against the tender bundle of nerves. “Ah, ah, ah! Yes! There! Fuck!”

Lambert growled, spurred on by Jaskier’s sweet moans, and slammed his hips harder into Jaskier. The lurid sound of skin slapping skin mixing with Jaskier’s wanton cries of pleasure sent Lambert closer to the edge. He gripped Jaskier’s cock, and stroked quickly in time with his thrusts. 

“Lambert! I’m-fuck--!” Jaskier’s voice broke as his cock jerked in Lambert’s grip, his hot semen spilling over his hand and Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier clenched around Lambert, his thrusts stuttering as he drew close to his own release. A few more thrusts and he was spilling into the condom.

Lambert panted, resting for a moment before he carefully pulled out of Jaskier, removing and disposing of the condom. He grabbed a towel and gently wiped the mess from Jaskier. Jaskier mumbled a thanks as he attempted to sit up and grab his clothes.

He squeaked in surprise as a shirt was tossed in his face. His brows furrowed as he examined the piece of clothing, “This isn’t mine.”

Lambert scoffed, “Yeah, no shit. I doubt it would be comfortable sleeping in your tight fitting clothes. You can borrow that.”

Jaskier blushed as he held the shirt tightly to his chest, “You want… I can… you’re not asking me to leave?”

Lambert pulled a threadbare t-shirt over his own head, one he most likely only wore to bed since Jaskier hadn’t ever seen him in anything remotely shabby before. Lambert huffed as he crawled under the covers, “Of course not. You are more than welcome to spend the night… unless you don’t want to? I can call you an uber or something.”

Jaskier quickly shook his head and pulled on the shirt. He dove under the blankets, as if afraid Lambert would change his mind, and cuddled close, pressing against his chest, “No, this is fantastic.”

Lambert chuckled and wrapped an arm around Jaskier, pulling him closer. He nuzzled his nose into the hair on the top of Jaskier’s head before planting a kiss there, “Night, Troublemaker.”

Jaskier hummed in satisfaction, “Good night, Professor~.”

[officerjennie]

Surprise! I'm doing Inktober.

Signed up for a 31 art pieces in 31 days challenge on @thewitcherbog discord, and this is piece 5 of 31 Linearts! They've all been a bit spicy and not tumblr safe, but with some white out I can give a nice preview of this one 👀👀

Feel free to follow the source (linked in the comments) and check out the full, spicy version - and check out the other 4 while you're there!

[tantumuna]

Making Connections Prompt Fill: First Date Rating: M Pairing: Lambert x Jaskier CW: death mentions; minor/canonical character death tags: modern au, implied sexual content, banter

--

Jaskier was supposed to be a one night stand, something to dull the pain as Lambert thinks about the years, but he's more than that. Being with Jaskier is easy, and after waking up without him once, Lambert never wants to do it again.

--

@save-a-witcher-bingo

[artistsfuneral]

Summer Romance

for @anythinggoesfandoms

Lambert/Jaskier, fade to black smut, no actual smut but they’re horny, lambert likes the sexy professor look and jaskier has a thing for freckles, summer romance, 1.6k, ao3 link in the comments

.

Naturally, it was only a matter of time until one of the wolves would seek out the rather infamous bard. Geralt never had been one to kiss and tell, neither was he known to share his path with anyone for longer than a few weeks, and yet... Over the years Geralt had fed them with more than enough stories of one 'Jaskier the bard' to make them awfully curious.

Deliberately Lambert and his brothers had started to ask the most causal sounding questions about Jaskier, trying to get as much information out of the white wolf as possible. Geralt – not as oblivious as they thought – indulged them for his own amusement and warned his friend come spring. (Jaskier was delighted about the attention)

Thus far none of the wolves had discovered the final puzzle piece. That was, though, until Lambert had discovered Jaskier's real name and with that his profession as Professor Julian Pankratz in Oxenfurt. The youngest witcher knew, that it would be only polite to tell his older brothers straight away about the new information. Sending a bird would only cost him a few coins, coins which he had plenty after his latest contract. But Lambert was neither polite, nor willing to share his information so soon and as luck would have it (what a coincidence) he was already in Oxenfurt.

With a satisfied smile on his lips he silently slipped through an open window, right into one of Jaskier's lectures and made himself comfortable in a dark corner of the room. At least, that was the plan. In reality it took him only a few minutes and suddenly Lambert was hanging on Jaskier's lips like every other student in the room.

There was just something... absolutely enticing about the man.

While all three of them knew from Geralt, that Jaskier had brown hair and blue eyes, none of them really knew what he looked like in person. So Lambert could all but stare at the man at the other end of the room. Surely he must have been as tall as Geralt, which meant he was taller than Vesemir and Lambert (and what a thought that was), but he was no way as lanky as the witcher had imagines him to be. Jaskier's shoulders were wide and strong, the human held himself upright in a way that clearly showed his confidence and inner strength. He paced around the room with wide steps, hands wildly gesturing, their pace always fitting the part of the story he was telling his students. Such a simple thing, he probably didn't even notice he was doing it and yet it spoke loudly for Jaskier's musical talent.

And then there was the man's face of course. What a face that was, Lambert mused, allowing himself a moment to appreciate it and the feel of attraction it caused. To the trained eye it was obvious, that Jaskier was of good breeding. He had those high cheekbones, a straight noseline and what Lambert liked to call 'noble eyebrows'. The thick brown hair on top of his head and around his jawline showed the tiniest hints of gray and white and although Jaskier lacked wrinkles on his forehead, he already had crows feet in the corners of his mesmerizing-blue eyes.

And the story he was telling his students; absolutely fantastic. It was evident that Jaskier had a talent of commanding a room solely with his voice. Lambert was actually sad that he hadn't heard the beginning of the story, but what he had understood so far was, that Jaskier was talking about a sort of dress code during a court he had attended.

“Now mind you, Valdo Marx was still in the believe that he was invited to Lady Cassandra's orgy later that evening, so he wore a special kind of doublet. One that – quite cleverly – could be taken off by pulling on one single string.” Jaskier paused for a moment, as did his gesturing, while he looked at a few of his students. “That's where his earlier comments start getting important. I'm sure you can all imagine my intentions after this discovery, especially since he had called me out in front of the whole court. But-,” he stopped himself with a small smile and looked at the turned sand clock on his table, “I'm afraid our time is up.”

A wave of protesting whines and annoyed groans came from his students, making Jaskier laugh. “Professor!” A girl in the front row spoke up. “Did you or did you not pull at the thread?” The man send her a secretive smile and leaned against his wooden lectern. As if being told confidential information, the whole class (including Lambert, although he would deny it) leaned closer to their teacher. A pleased grin spread across Jaskier's face.

“Now I don't want to scandalize anyone, but lets say it like this: I was absolutely delighted to find out that Valdo Marx, during his oh so important summer at court, had gotten pretty fat around his middle.”

The room burst out laughing for a good minute, before the students collected their belongings and one after another left the class, saying their goodbyes to Jaskier. Lambert leaned back into the shadows and waited until Jaskier turned his back towards him, before standing up.

To his utter astonishment, it was Jaskier who spoke first. “Be a darling and help me carry those books back to my office, Lambert.” The witcher let out a quiet 'huh' and started to stack the books in his arms, Jaskier had pointed at. “How did you know it was me?” Jaskier huffed out a laugh, still not having looked at Lambert, and answered honestly, “I didn't. But from what Geralt told me about the lot of you, which is to say quite little information, Eskel and Vesemir would have been polite enough not to visit me in the middle of a lecture.”

That was surprisingly correct, Lambert realized. Vesemir probably would have waited until the lecture was over

or come back later in the evening, while Eskel would have been there in the beginning of the class, wanting to listen to it whole. He could have commented on it, but instead Lambert decided to ask the more important question. “Did you really cause that Marx guy to stand in court naked?”

“Of course I did! He's my arch-nemesis.”

“Nemesis? You're a bard.”

At that, Jaskier let out an offended noise and turned around promptly, “Now, listen you-”

He stopped, his impossible blue eyes going wide and his mouth gaped open. Lambert raised an eyebrow, “Something on my face, bard?” Jaskier blinked a few times, his face blushing from- embarrassment? “Um- No just- Geralt never told me you had freckles.”

“Why would Geralt-” Oh. Oh! Not embarrassment then. A cocky grin spread across Lambert's face, as he wriggled his eyebrows in suggestion. “Say, bard, you have any plans for tonight?” Jaskier seemingly needed another moment to collect himself, stared at Lambert as long as it took to get his head out of the gutter. The witcher could hear his pulse pick up speed, could see Jaskier's pupils dilate and the blush on his cheekbones darken. A reaction like that, simply because Lambert was there, because he existed in the same room as the bard; Lambert's chest filled with pride.

“Usually I would tell you to buy me dinner first, but I really can't cope right now,” Jaskier confessed slowly.

“How cute,” Lambert grinned, “you will make me blush, if you don't stop.”

Now it was Jaskier's turn to chuckle, “I now for a fact that witcher's don't blush that easily. But then again, I'm known for my talented mouth, am I not?” An open invitation, missing any ridiculous maskings. The bard clearly knew what he wanted and was used to getting it too. Balancing the stack of books easily in one arm, Lambert used his free hand to pull Jaskier down, so their faces were on the same level. “Prove yourself then,” he growled and promptly let go of Jaskier again, taking a step back and tilting his head to the side. “Your office?”

Needless to say, Lambert was more than happy about his decision to keep Jaskier's other name to himself for a while. During the hottest time of summer he stayed close to Oxenfurt and the Academy, spending his mid-days in the shade of the city, going skinny dipping with Jaskier and his friends and the colder nights he warmed the professor's bed. Spending time with Jaskier was a bliss. The man was not only pretty and smart, he was also loudmouthed bastard, a cheeky shit, an amazing lover and a great listener. Lambert was terrifyingly enthralled by him and the way Jaskier looked at him – with that stupid grin on his lips and those beautiful eyes – made Lambert hope it wasn't one-sided. (It wasn't he would find out later)

Only days before the summer term ended and Jaskier was to be picked up by Geralt, Lambert moved on. He left with a promise to  meet the bard again soon, a content smile on his face and a slowly fading hickey on his neck. The following winter he told his brothers about the discovery of Jaskier's name and profession, though, he left out any further commentary on what he did during his summer on the path. It would be way more fun this way.

Geralt, finally having had enough about their endless questions, promised to bring Jaskier with him the following year. Lambert could wait that long.

.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it, although it turned out more sappy than planned, Ana :D

[jaskier-cult]

i didn’t mean to fall in love

Lambert didn’t actually mean it. 

at first. 

and that was the thing - “at first.” 

it wasn’t supposed to turn into anything. he was only flirting with the bard to make Geralt jealous, and hopefully spur the older witcher into acting on his less than subtle feelings, because if Lambert had to endure one more winter with his brooding, pinning brother, he was going to kill someone. 

and if the bard wasn’t hard on the eyes, and flirting wasn’t such a chore as he thought it would be, then who cared? 

Jaskier had come to Kaer Morhen the previous year, so the second time he came, Lambert started small. he invited the bard to work on chores together. he sat by the bard during meals. he offered his cloak and bed when the nights were too cold for the bard. 

Lambert found a friend in the bard. the man was quick witted and shared a sense of humor with the youngest witcher. Lambert could fool around with the bard, could trade barbs and arguments, could talk about literature (smut, *cough*) with him. don’t get him wrong, he loved his brothers, but Eskel was only into dumb poetry, and Geralt’s daily word quota was disappointing, so 

so maybe flirting came a little too naturally. 

he would give small, unimportant compliments to the bard that he didn’t even think twice about, but Jaskier’s whole face would light up, beaming, and his blue eyes would be so bright. 

it was like he had never been complimented in his life, like he was starving for attention 

(and maybe Lambert wanted to skewer Geralt every time he insulted the bard and his singing but that wasn’t important, shut up) 

Lambert sweet-talked the bard. he was liberal with his compliments, and if it was so he could see the bard smiling like that at him, then that was no one’s business but his own. he bathed with the bard in the hot springs together. he allowed the bard to wash his hair and, yea, maybe he let the bard rub chamomile oil on his bottom, but shut up, it was really nice, okay? 

(but Lambert made the bard swear it to secrecy, because he wasn’t done teasing Geralt about it yet) 

but. but then the bard started flirting back

and Lambert panicked 

Lambert threw his most lewd comments at the young man, and Jaskier threw them right back at him. Jaskier winked at him and sought him out and leaned into his touch 

and maybe Lambert began to be a bit too genuine

and, oh shit, he’s in love with the bard, isn’t he?

fuck

[lutes-and-dandelions]

Lambert was minding his own business in the ordinary town of Daevon, Keadwen when Jaskier appeared and started kissing him like his life depended on it. Unsure whether he was dreaming or not, but having fancied Jaskier for ages, Lambert kissed back and the day just kept getting stranger, but definitely better, from there.

Language: English  Words: 6617  Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Relationship: Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert

Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert (The Witcher)

Additional Tags: Fake Out Make Out, brief misunderstanding, Misunderstandings, Brief miscommunication, Getting Together, First Kiss, First Time, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, Anal Sex, face fucking, Ginger Lambert, Self Conscious Lambert, Lambert has Self Esteem Issues, Lambert POV, Dom/sub Undertones, Soft Dom Jaskier, Praise Kink, Kink Discovery

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel & Lambert & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel (The Witcher), Vesemir (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion, chosen family, Found Family, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Lambert, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, you can see some jaskier/lambert if you squint, this isn't shippy but honestly that may change, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, i said it wasn't shippy but honestly it's gonna get shippy, inspired by the tv show but taking info from the games and wiki as needed Summary: Julian should never have been taken to Kaer Morhen.  He never should've survived the Trials.  He never should've survived the training.  He never should've survived the Path. On his own, he probably never would have.

In this chapter: Dandelion gets a surprise on the Path, and winter approaches.

OH NO I FORGOT TO POST THIS UPDATE TO TUMBLR??? Please read my dumb witcher pups AU, they’re such disasters and I love them so much.

[witchersgoldenbard]

Comfort Food and Cuddles

Darling @karolincki requested some comfort for Jaskier after a day where eating is difficult. Comfort comes in the shape of Lambert who really wants to take care of his boyfriend. Domestic softness ensues

2.9k words, lambskier fluff, established relationship, very mild hurt and a lot of fluff, modern au

warnings: disordered eating and the guilt that comes with it, though it’s not very graphic and not really verbally discussed

read on ao3

Jaskier doesn’t know what’s worse. The guilt, the vicious little voice in his head that tells him he can go longer without food, or the empty stomach he desperately wants to fill if only it weren’t such a bother to keep himself well-fed all the time. Really, what kind of bullshit is it to stand in the kitchen for at least half an hour each time he wants to eat, cutting up vegetables and boiling water and what-not, only to have it all scarfed down in record time? The disparity between meal prep time and actually eating time really just takes away all the magic he used to feel as a child when mama made his favourite food.

Now he has to provide for himself – and by the Gods, does he suck at that.

He sighs as the front door falls shut behind him and pulls out his phone. Doesn’t even hesitate before he texts Lambert because he knows his boyfriend won’t judge. Or, well, he will, but at least he won’t blame Jaskier or tell him off. Lambert, for all his grunts and insults and no-nonsense attitude, can be incredibly sweet and gentle and kind.

Jask: oh lol guess who forgot to eat again

Lame-bert: jask.

His reply is instantaneous, and Jaskier smiles. Another wondrous thing about the man. He will curse technology to high heavens and be endlessly grumpy about everything at all times – and yet he always instantly replies to Jaskier’s texts. He almost wants to send a heart emoji because he is overcome with warmth for his boyfriend, but that would be bad with the topic of conversation. Later. He’ll tell Lambert he loves him later.

Jask: listennnn

There’s nothing he has to say, though. There never is when it comes to food because there is no way he can keep telling Lambert about how hard food is sometimes. Lambert can’t understand his bad food days or weeks, can’t relate or truly understand – and Jaskier is grateful for that because that means Lambert doesn’t ever have to sit in front of the fridge and stare at its contents, wishing he could just manifest a meal. Wishing the full fridge would stop staring at him, or dreading the time he has to go grocery shopping and confront the bad food days.

He’s glad Lambert can’t relate, eternally grateful that the man just accepts Jaskier for who he is, the bad days and the good ones. But still he can’t shake the fear that some day further down the line, he might not be more than his bad food days. It’s stupid and unfair to Lambert, but nothing about this makes sense anyway, so why not add to the pile?

Jask: i have many many thoughts today, no place for foods

Lame-bert: :(

Jask: i’m sorry babe

Lame-bert: don’t be sorry. can you try to get something while you’re out?

Jaskier thinks about that for a moment, his heart aching in his chest. He wants to. But he knows he won’t. And he doesn’t want to lie to Lambert, but he also doesn’t want him to worry.

Jask: i don’t think i can? sorry

Lame-bert: no sorries

Yeah, no, the guilt is the worst thing today.

He stares at the messages for a while longer, wishing Lambert would say something more, wishing he could take away the aching guilt in his chest and let Jaskier know that he’s not mad or sad or worried. It’s more than he has any right to wish, let alone ask for, but still he hopes.

A moment later, Lambert’s beautiful face appears on his screen with an incoming call. Jaskier answers, lifting the phone to his ear with both trepidation and happiness.

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Let me take care of you,” Lambert says, and Jaskier is a bit taken aback.

“Huh?”

“Let me come over,” Lambert explains then. “Let me cook, make sure you eat, even if it’s just a little. Okay? Please, I— Please let me do this?”

“Babe—” Jaskier begins, but Lambert cuts him off.

“Obviously I won’t if you say no. I don’t want to make it worse. But what I’m saying is I don’t have anything to do tonight. And I miss you. And really, I wanna take care of you. It won’t be a hardship. I promise.”

It should be scary, the ways in which Lambert knows just how to disarm him and his half-hearted protests. The idea of having Lambert come over, having him there to cuddle and kiss and bury his face in his chest after he’s eaten too much to be comfortable — oh, yes, what a wonderful idea. What a wonderful man.

“I love you,” Jaskier tells him, smile on his lips and warmth in his chest. “I really, really do.”

“I love you, too,” Lambert promises, sounding more relaxed now. Calmer. Almost back to his grumpiness. Jaskier grins.

“Hey, Lamb?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come over and take care of me tonight?”

There’s a short moment of silence, only filled with Lambert’s happy little hum.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Jaskier laughs. “Oh, fuck you,” he grins and pretends to pout even though Lambert can’t see.

“Maybe, if you eat enough,” Lambert retorts and they hang up a short while later.

Jaskier feels much better now. It’s weird, this fear that he’ll disappoint others on his bad food days when really it should only be about himself. It’s not, though, and he is so happy and glad and grateful and blessed to have Lambert’s support.

This time, he does send him the heart emojis before going on his way to go Christmas shopping.

***

That night, Jaskier is checking the time twice a minute because it’s already 9:14 and Lambert is nowhere to be seen. Doesn’t reply to his texts or anything, and Jaskier is in waiting mode, just sitting on his couch, unable to do anything but wait for his boyfriend to come home. Well, not home. Come over.

Oh how he wishes Lambert would live with him. Or he with Lambert. Them, together. Always someone to make sure he eats, because Lambert actually enjoys cooking and experimenting with different sorts of ingredients and spices to upgrade his already amazing dishes. And Lambert, well, he could get smiles and pep talks and kisses and a happy presence to match his grump.

Jaskier smiles as he imagines living with Lambert.

A knock on the door interrupts his musings, and he jumps off the couch in record speed.

“Hi, my lo— oh.” All his excitement turns into confusion at seeing Lambert with six giant bags in his hands. “Wh— What’s all this?”

Lambert grunts and heaves the bags inside, Jaskier quickly stepping to the side to let him in, shutting the door behind him, still feeling confused and mildly concerned.

“Lambi?”

Lambert ignores him in favour of bringing all the bags into the kitchen and Jaskier remains rooted to the spot, pouting. Petulant now.

Not for long, though, because Lambert immediately comes back and kisses the pout away.

“Another,” Jaskier demands, and Lambert only rolls his eyes once before leaning back in with a grin. Jaskier wraps his arms around his waist and clings to him for a moment, basking in his boyfriend’s warmth and the way he smells like home.

“Hi,” Lambert murmurs, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s cheek and one just under his ear before he takes a step back.

“Hi,” Jaskier breathes, a bit dazed. “You’re wonderful. And smell good. New aftershave?”

Lambert grins and presses another kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Glad you approve.”

“Oh, I really do.”

Lambert takes his hand and pulls him along, passing the kitchen and into the living room. Jaskier is about to ask, but Lambert pushes him to sit on the couch. “Sit. And wait. Alright?”

Jaskier sits and stares up at Lambert, that pout back in place simply because Lambert’s hands are still warm on his shoulders and he’s too close to refuse giving Jaskier another kiss, no matter how stern he looks as he tells him to just sit and wait. He’s so close and smells so good and Jaskier just wants a kiss. And another.

Lambert leans down and his hands move from Jaskier’s shoulders to his cheeks as he cradles his face and keeps him in place for a kiss. And another. And another. He hums into it as his lips move up, brushing over Jaskier’s nose, between his eyebrows, to his forehead and finally to the crown of his head. The bastard knows fully well what he’s doing because now there’s no way Jaskier could get up even if he tried, entirely too weak for this man.

“I’ll be right back,” Lambert promises and moves to step away, but Jaskier is nothing but clingy and has zero shame in surging forward and wrapping his arms around Lambert’s middle. He takes a deep breath as he buries his face in the soft maroon sweater, closing his eyes and smiling. “Jask,” Lambert tries, but jaskier just shakes his head. Gentle fingers land in his hair and he feels the chuckle reverberate In Lambert’s stomach as he lets Jaskier cling for a moment longer.

He hums, content and happy, his heart so full that his empty stomach is all but forgotten.

“Let me get you your food and then you can have free reign over as many cuddles as you like, yeah?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier smiles and demands another kiss that Lambert gives him with minimal protest. “You’re a sap.”

“Takes one to know one.”

With that, Lambert expertly wriggles out of Jaskier’s hold and moves back into the kitchen. Jaskier remains on the couch but curls up on his side, feeling warm and bubbly and safe knowing that Lambert is here, he’s not mad, he will take care of him like he always does.

There are noises coming from the kitchen, but nothing too concerning yet. A few curses here and there, but it wouldn’t be Lambert if he wouldn’t tell even a plate to fuck off. Jaskier grins to himself and waits. The prospect of eating is not as exhausting anymore now that Lambert is here. He just hopes that whatever his boyfriend made is not too much effort, that he hasn’t gone out of his way to get Jaskier to eat.

But even that guilt stands no chance against the joy of hearing Lambert yell at his spatula. Lambert, Lambert, what a silly man.

Not long after, Lambert comes back out with two plates in hand. He stops in the doorway to look at Jaskier with a smile that turns from sheepish into absolutely besotted, and then back to sheepish.

“So,” he begins, setting the plates on the coffee table by the couch, knowing here is one of Jaskier’s favourite spots to eat. Food loses a lot of its heaviness when consumed in soft spaces.

Jaskier looks from Lambert back down to the plates, and then back at Lambert. A frown in place, because—

“Don’t hate me,” Lambert tells him, raising his hands in a placating gesture, that sheepish look still on his handsome face. “But I know you love lasagna. And you love it even more when it’s homemade. And you love that even more when it’s leftover instead of steaming hot and fresh. So…”

He trails off and Jaskier really doesn’t know what to think, what to say, because—

“Tell me you did not make homemade lasagna for me, then let that cool down only to reheat it for me a few hours later so it’s like leftover lasagna. Lambert, tell me that’s not what you did.”

For a second there, Lambert looks actually worried that he’s done something wrong. “It might be?”

Jaskier still doesn’t know what to say, but he sure as hell knows that what he wants to do is climb in his love’s lap and hug him, kiss him silly until the food’s gone cold again.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he just sits there and stares at Lambert, at his hands, at the food, and back at Lambert again, feeling something between lost and utterly, incandescently in love. A bit of both, he supposes.

“You,” he sniffles. “I— hnn.”

Lambert smiles and pulls Jaskier into a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You do deserve this, shut up.”

Jaskier shakes his head into Lamberts neck but says nothing. Couldn’t possibly say anything because he is so, so overcome.

“C’mon, let’s eat, hm? I’m starving.”

Jaskier nods but doesn’t move far, just shuffles until his back is leaning against Lambert’s chest.

The lasagna is heavenly. Eating is so much easier when the food is not hot anymore, regardless of how his parents still scold him for letting his food get cold when he’s over for dinner. Lambert knows this, and made it so Jaskier’s has the perfect temperature. The perfect taste. The perfect texture and the perfect feeling of this is good, this is home, this is safe. This is love.

He goes to get them a second helping and then they even share a third. It’s lovely. The perfect comfort in the shape of food.

He makes sure to tell Lambert as they lie on the couch, their bellies full to the point of near discomfort. Lambert runs his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and smiles. “I’m glad it was good, baby.”

“That must be the understatement of the century,” Jaskier huffs, and then looks up to meet Lambert’s eyes. “Thank you. For… for everything. You’re perfect and wonderful and amazing and—“

“You’re welcome,” Lambert interrupts him, uncomfortable with the flow of compliments Jaskier has on the tip of his tongue.

Then a thought strikes his mind and he frowns. “Wait, you had so many bags. What else did you bring?”

Lambert gives him that sweet sheepish smile again, fingers never stopping their paths through Jaskier’s hair. “Well, I know you hate grocery shopping, so I did a large load of that. Stocked your fridge with things I know you like, things that are quickly made and not overwhelming. Brought some things to freeze, so don’t get a shock if your freezer attacks you next time you open it, I may have miscalculated a little.” He laughs and Jaskier pokes him into the chest, a gesture that quickly results in Lambert capturing that finger and pressing a kiss to its tip. Jaskier wants to melt all over again.

“You shouldn’t have,” he chides, almost feeling guilty once more.

“Maybe,” Lambert shrugs. “But I wanted to. Love taking care of my baby, love knowing you have some actual food in your fridge so next time I wanna come over, I don’t have to hear you explain to me that coffee, of all things, is perfectly nutritious.”

Jaskier chuckles and hides against Lambert’s chest, embarrassed and pouting and so, so in love.

“I love you,” he tells him, and even though the words are muffled by one of the softest sweaters Lambert owns, Jaskier knows he heard them.

“Love you, too, Jask. Thanks for letting me do this.”

Jaskier nods. Once again, he can’t keep his thoughts in check and dares to dream of a life with Lambert. A shared space. Where there’s always food even though Jaskier might have a hard time with it. Where there’s always gentle encouragement and never harsh judgement or off-handed comments about his eating habits. He dreams and he yearns and he aches.

He breathes. That lovely scent that is quickly becoming his new favourite. The smell of lasagna in the air. The scented candles he lit that spread a delicate note of lavender. Lambert in the centre of it all.

It is at the same time that they break the comfortable silence.

“Lambi? I—“

“Move in with me.”

Oh.

Oh.

Jaskier is stunned, not entirely sure he has heard correctly. Maybe his yearning heart is playing tricks on him or he fell into a food coma. Because no way in all hells is Lambert, wonderful, kind, grumpy, funny, lovely Lambert asking him to move in on a day that proved once more that Jaskier is a mess.

“Or, I move in with you, I don’t really care. I get it if you care, though, or we could get a new place together, but—“

“You really wanna live with me?” Jaskier sniffles, lifting his head from Lambert’s chest once more to look him in the eyes and see if he’s serious.

Lambert deflates, relieved that Jaskier’s silence was no show of rejection. “I do,” he promises. “Of fucking course I do, I love you. I love being with you and taking care of you and telling you you’re silly when you say you’re a mess. Because you are. Very silly. And also the love of my life so let me live with you and be there for you always, okay?” Jaskier is still staring and Lambert adds an entirely too small, “Please.”

He nods before he knows it, hands finding their ways to Lambert’s cheeks as he moves in for a kiss before pressing their foreheads together.

“You know… actually I think I might be in a food coma, so if you hear me asking you to live with me again tomorrow and the days after that, please pardon me because I’ve just had the world’s best homemade semi-leftover lasagna from the world’s best Lambert. But I don’t care if this is a coma or not, because there is no way in Hell I would say no to you. Fuck, yes, I really want to move in with you. Or you with me. Or find a place together, or—“

This time it’s he who’s cut off with kisses. Jaskier has no complaints.

[seidenbros]

I had completely forgotten that I posted a first chapter of something I had been working on then on Mibba and never really came round to doing more of it? And just found a comment from someone who loved the characters in it and I'm just here nearly crying because I had no idea that I had written and posted that? But

I can do this. I’m strong, I’m independent, I’m smart, I’m a fighter and I’m gorgeous.

That's something I need to tell myself as well, which is what my OC says to herself when she starts a new job.

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

A Week of Fucklets - Blindfolds

I’m back with fucklet number 5! So here, for your viewing pleasure, is... Lambskier! 

Fucklet 1, Fucklet 2, Fucklet 3, Fucklet 4

Warnings: trust... blind folds... kissing... they don’t actually end up doing anything fun in this one, just a lot of horny lead up

WC: 575

-

Jaskier smiled happily, tracing the skin around the silken blindfold. The man in front of him was an absolute beauty, his skin sun kissed, his copper hair gleaming in the candlelight. Jaskier’s only regret was that he couldn’t see the beautiful molten gold of his eyes, hidden as they were by the bright blue silk.

The blindfold had been Lambert’s idea.

Jaskier had never seen the man so shy before, but it seemed that asking for the things he wanted, the things he felt like he shouldn’t want, like making himself vulnerable, were the one thing that Lambert couldn’t brashly push his way through. His personality so harsh, so carefree, usually meant he was happy, eager even, to demand what he wanted from Jaskier in or out of the bedroom.

Not this, though, not this.

He had looked absolutely nervous when he had first approached the bard and Jaskier certainly hadn’t known what to make of the situation. When Lambert had finally pulled the silk blindfold from his pocket and stumbled his way through his request, the request for Jaskier to blindfold him and have his way with the witcher, Jaskier had been stunned.

Stunned and absolutely honored.

The trust that Lambert was offering in this scenario shook Jaskier to his very core. He, the master poet who never stopped talking, was struck speechless, absolutely shocked at what he was hearing.

How could be say no to a request like that?

And now, with Lambert blindfolded and on his knees on the bed in front of Jaskier, he couldn’t imagine a more decadent sight. Surely Jaskier couldn’t deserve the absolute trust being placed in him. It was a heady feeling.

“You look… amazing. I can’t even find the words to describe it,” Jaskier whispered, afraid to speak to loud and break the perfection of the moment.

“You? Without words?” Lambert asked, his voice equally muted in the quiet of the room.

“You’ve struck me speechless,” Jaskier leaned in then, hovering for just a moment before pressing his lips to Lambert’s.

Lambert wasted no time, groaning into the kiss and reaching out to pull Jaskier forward, their chests colliding. Jaskier let his hands wander over the planes of Lambert’s back as he leaned into the kiss, savoring the taste of him.

Pulling back and sucking in a gasp, Jaskier decided that it was time to get a move on with their evening.

“Lean back, darling,” Jaskier said softly, pushing against Lambert’s chest.

The witcher fell back onto the bed, a puff of air escaping him as he settled into the pillows.

Jaskier crawled up the bed slowly, grinding his body against Lambert’s as he sat atop the witcher, “Do you like the blindfold so far?”

Lambert grunted, his hands coming up to clutch at Jaskier’s thighs where they straddled him.

Jaskier chuckled, “I think you do; I think you like not being able to see what I’m going to do next.”

“I can hear every move you make,” Lambert responded, his grip tightening on Jaskier’s thighs.

Humming, Jaskier began tracing patterns on Lambert’s chest, “But it’s not the same, is it?”

“I think you like the blindfold more than I do,” Lambert bucked his hips, grinding his erection into Jaskier’s ass.

“It’s… a powerful feeling, I admit. Having your trust to do this.”

“And what exactly are we doing?” Lambert rolled his hips again.

Jaskier laughed, “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

-

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[jaytodd1129]

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times

There 👏need 👏to 👏be 👏more 👏cottage 👏core 👏jaskier 👏fics👏!!

whether your ship is geraskier or yenskier or lamskier or geraskefer---WHATEVER IT IS

jaskier being put in a cottage safehouse after the Rience torture to recover

jaskier occupying himself with feeding the animals of the cottage

jaskier making his own cheese and bread

jaskier embroidering

jaskier embroidering the clothes of his significant other(s) while they're away

jaskier having a garden and finding gardening therapeutic

jaskier redecorating the cottage inside out because sometimes he gets fidgety and antsy and he likes pretty colors and it gives his hands something to do when playing the lute and writing songs doesn't quite cut it

jaskier making friends with the townspeople a few miles ahead where he gets his supplies to maintain the cottage.. perhaps teaching a couple of kids to play the lute at an extremely low price--he'd do it for free, but the townspeople absolutely insist on paying him so sometimes he just trades his services for goods, like cheese or a piece of fabric that he really liked from the seamstress' shop that he thinks would make fabulous curtains

jaskier greatly enjoying the walks to town and back, just listening to the birds chirping and the sound of earth crunching under his boots and the sound of a stream flowing nearby

jaskier breathing a new life into the little drab forgotten cottage that hadn't seen anyone pay it any mind in years and years

jaskier feeling safe and home and useful