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Jaskier is the kind of guy that knows exactly what he wants. He knows his tastes might be peculiar, but he’s a peculiar man and he has made peace with his desires a long time ago.
He usually has no problem asking for what he wants - he always thought open, clear communication was the key to good, nay, amazing sex, and it was one of the things that made him the best lover on the whole Continent. But he and Geralt fell into bed together weeks ago and have been fucking ever since, and Jaskier still can’t bring himself to ask Geralt for the one, simple thing he’s missing.
He really wants Geralt to humiliate him for having a small dick.
Now, don’t get him wrong - Jaskier loves having a small cock. It took him some time to come to terms with his anatomy when he started to understand he didn’t exactly measure up, but he learned to be happy with what he has and he wouldn’t want to change anything about it. He has learned how to use his prick to the fullest, and when that isn’t enough, he has two capable hands and a very talented, eager mouth, and he never leaves a lover unsatisfied.
He’s absolutely comfortable in his own body. So comfortable, in fact, that he, from time to time, craves to be told he’s inadequate.
He wants it even more because it’s Geralt. Geralt, with his big, fat witcher cock always makes him feel pleasantly embarrassed when they fuck - he can’t stop comparing their dicks, and seeing how much bigger Geralt is than him just makes him feel all warm inside. He has always known Geralt is big, just as Geralt has caught on quite early that Jaskier is small - but when they’re fucking, he feels it that much more intensely, can’t really stop thinking about it.
And Geralt has always been nice about Jaskier’s size. He didn’t laugh or pity when he first saw, and when they lie together, he treats it just as any other cock - just a bit smaller - and Jaskier adores him for it, truly. But. He just can’t stop thinking about what it would be like if Geralt laughed cruelly and smirked and told him his tiny prick is a pathetic excuse of a cock.
Jaskier is brought back to the moment when Geralt pulls his shirt over his head. They’re in their room at an inn, and they’ve started kissing, and now Geralt is undressing him, and if everything goes according to plan, which it should, they’re going to have sex and then they’re going to sleep.
Jaskier lets out a soft whine as Geralt starts kissing down his chest. He stops to lavish attention upon both his nipples, and then later to press a kiss just below his navel because he discovered that Jaskier is ticklish there and it makes him giggle.
Geralt reaches the waistband of his breeches. He unlaces them and tugs them down Jaskier’s thighs along his smallclothes.
Jaskier’s small cock is hard and leaking when Geralt finally wraps his hand around it. It hides almost perfectly in his huge fist, the head just barely peeking out. Just the sight makes Jaskier moan.
Geralt starts slowly stroking him and playing with his foreskin.
It tumbles out of Jaskier’s mouth before he can stop it: “Don’t you think it’s tiny and pathetic?”
Geralt stops. He frowns, but his grip on Jaskier remains gentle. “Did someone say that to you?” he asks, not even trying to hide the growl in his voice.
Jaskier feels his cheeks warm. “Yes, many people,” he says, because claiming otherwise would be a lie and Geralt would be able to hear it in his heartbeat. Geralt’s expression turns positively murderous, so Jaskier quickly clarifies: “After I asked them to!”
Geralt seems confused. “Why?” he questions, “why would you ask people to insult you?”
It’s suddenly so embarrassing, to admit it to Geralt. But now Jaskier has to. “I like it,” he whispers. “It makes me feel good.”
Geralt opens his mouth, as if to ask another question, so Jaskier cuts in before he can. “I don’t know why!” he explains, frantic, “It just does! I like my cock just fine, but I also want you to humiliate me over the fact that yours is so much bigger!”
He must be bright red when he finishes, and his dick is still in Geralt’s warm, big fist.
“Jaskier,” Geralt finds his words after a moment, “I don’t know what to say.”
Jaskier tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. He should have known that Geralt won’t understand. “You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures him. “I don’t expect it from you. We can forget about it - or we can just stop having sex altogether, if that’s what you would prefer - “
“You misunderstand me, Jaskier,” Geralt cuts him off. He won’t meet Jaskier’s eyes, and his cheeks are tinted pink. Is he shy? “If that’s what you want, I want to give it to you, but I don’t have the slightest idea what to say. I’m not a wordsmith like you.”
Once Jaskier realizes what Geralt says, he lets out a giddy squeak. He pulls him into a bruising kiss. “Oh, Geralt, you sweet man,” he cries, “I adore you!”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” Geralt grumbles. “I actually said I have no idea how to do this.”
Jaskier thinks for a moment. “You can start by showing me that monster cock of yours.”
Geralt obliges. He pulls away to open his leathers and pulls out his dick. It stands proud, hard and flushed red and veiny and Jaskier shivers simply at the sight of it. Gods above, it’s so big…
“Now come here,” Jaskier instructs, “maybe straddle me and let me see and feel how big it is in comparison? No, actually, you lay on your back and have me straddle you and force me to please your huge cock with my tiny prick?”
Geralt does as he says. He lies down on the bed, cock out, and Jaskier immediately moves to straddle his hips. He’s practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement when his small dick presses up against Geralt’s and he lets out a whorish moan at the simple contact.
Geralt grips his hips, tight enough to bruise. He makes a face, as if he’s in pain, and then he finally forces the words out: “Rut your tiny prick against my - hm. My huge cock.”
It’s not the best Jaskier has ever heard - but it’s a start. The fact that it’s his beloved witcher already makes it special.
“Yesss,” Jaskier hisses.
He grinds against Geralt, letting their cocks slide together. Geralt’s size makes his own prick seem absolutely miniscule, the way no previous partner ever did.
“Tell me more,” he gasps. “Tell me how small it is, compared to yours.”
“It’s - “ Geralt starts, but then he takes a moment to gather his words. “Your prick is so small,” he says, “I’ve never seen anything smaller.”
Jaskier whines and grinds down harder.
“You look like a little boy with that thing between your legs,” Geralt continues, finally seeming to gain some momentum. “Can’t even call it a cock. It’s that pathetic.”
Geralt’s words make Jaskier burn. “Yes! Yes, it’s pathetic!”
“Look at me,” Geralt tells him. He reaches between them and holds their cocks gently together, to make their motions smoother. “Look how tiny you are next to me. It’s laughable.”
“My dick is a joke,” Jaskier agrees. He fucks faster into Geralt’s loose fist, gasping and moaning with every stroke.
“And - “ Geralt grunts, “and it’s absolutely useless. You might be able to penetrate your partners in some positions, but I doubt anyone lets you waste their time with your tiny, pathetic cocklet.”
“Oh fuck,” Jaskier swears, “Geralt - “ and then he comes with a moan, spurts of pearly white covering Geralt’s massive shaft.
Once Jaskier catches his breath, he takes Geralt in hand and starts stroking him at a fast pace, his cum slicking the way. Geralt groans and bucks his hips into his fist, and he tumbles over the edge when Jaskier takes the head in his mouth and sucks. He spills over Jaskier’s tongue, and Jaskier swallows it all gratefully and then licks Geralt clean.
“How did I do?” Geralt asks softly when Jaskier cuddles up to him and lays his head on his chest.
Jaskier thinks his beloved witcher could definitely use to work on his dirty talk, but that just means they’re going to practice a lot in the future. Despite that, Jaskier would still say this was one of his top ten orgasms ever, maybe even top five.
He grins. “You did amazing, darling.”