#geraskier quickie

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Slutty Christmas Elf

~with softness~

@electricrituals​ hit me with this delightful prompt : “Hey babe! <3 I have a Christmas prompt idea if you're interested... I'm thinking Geralt is a Mall Santa (unwillingly, probably because he lost a bet, most likely to Lambert) and Jaskier is one of Santa's Elves. Sparks fly and things get NSFW in a... broom closet? Bathroom? Anywhere they absolutely should NOT be ;)” and you bet your ass I sat in the corner of the living room after Thanksgiving dinner listening to Mariah Carey and Kelly Clarkson sing Christmas songs while writing some hoey Christmas smut on my phone. 

Warnings: well its smutty so 18+ plz, anal fingering, anal sex, gentle dom vibes (no i currently cant write Jask any other way), trying (and failing) to keep quiet, v inappropriate use of a mall storage closet lmao, not a whole lot of up front communication but what is consent if not showing up to a closet for a booty call?  A shitload of swearing - as usual

________________

"You promised, Geralt. Sit your ass down and get the fat pads on your thigh. They'll get sore if you don't." Lambert dangled the red Santa hat in front of Geralt's face with a devious grin. 

Geralt snatched it out of his hands, "Technically, I didn't even lose the bet…" 

Lambert had been walking away but he turned around when he caught the mutter, "Oh, I'm sorry? How many wings did you eat?" 

Geralt rolled his eyes and shoved the hat over his hair. 

"How many? Couldn't hear you!" 

"Twelve…" Geralt sighed. 

Lambert grinned, "That's RIGHT. Don't bet your Saturday on hot wings with me," he damn near skipped back behind the camera. 

Geralt sat for light tests and someone slapping him with a makeup sponge full of blush before he was finally allowed to go get his coffee. 

In the green room all the elves were lounging around, most on their phones, but one was hopping on one foot trying to get those stupid little booties on. 

He only barely had time to set his coffee down before he had an arm full of swearing elf.

"Fuck! Shit, I'm sorry. The cunts just don't fucking fit." The elf stood himself up, using Geralt's shoulder to keep upright as he finally yanked the bootie on. 

Geralt chuckled, "You know this is a kids event right?" 

The elf straightened up, hand formerly gripping Geralt's shoulder now sliding down his biceps as his bright blue eyes sparkled, "Then why'd they hire such a handsome Santa?" 

Geralt blushed, sure the makeup wasn't going to hide his embarrassment, "Lost a bet," he stammered. 

"Good thing we both have more wholesome friends," the elf winked, nodding over to a blonde girl with a guitar on her lap, "I'm Jaskier." 

"Geralt!" Lambert hollered from the hall and Geralt deflated, his eyes nearly rolling out onto the ground. 

"That's me," he squeezed Jaskier’s elbow before walking away, "You gonna stay standing without me?" 

Jaskier grinned, "I'm already swooning." 

Geralt did his best to keep himself from giggling as he jogged back over to Lambert. 

Jaskier, it turned out, was actually very good with kids, especially the ones who were scared but Geralt absolutely didn't pay close attention to him at all. He most certainly didn't look at his ass when he bent down to tie a kids shoe, and he would never glance over at him whenever he heard a particularly musical peak of laughter. Nope. Not Geralt.

Jaskier caught him looking more than he'd like to admit, winking every time. It sent a little swarm of butterflies through his insides and he'd only just met the man. Honestly who the fuck did Geralt think he was? 

When lunch break was called Jaskier made an excuse to sashay up to him and lightly hip-check him, "Hey there big guy. Enjoy your show?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Geralt nearly lost his breath, "So that was intentional?" 

Jaskier rested his elbow on Geralt's shoulder and lowered his voice as Geralt instinctively placed a hand at his back, "We've got an hour and forty minutes before lunch is over…" 

Geralt's eyes bulged but he felt a heat shoot through his body at the suggestion, "How do you want to spend the break?"

Jaskier licked his lips and stood on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Supply closet past the bathrooms. 5 minutes." 

Jaskier snagged his wallet before he jogged out of the greenroom and down the hall. Geralt was frozen in place. 

Was he really gonna do this? He didn't even know Jaskier’s last name. He might not even have a condom on him. Unless there was one in his gym bag? Yep. He was definitely gonna do this... maybe. 

Lambert appeared out of nowhere while he was rifling through his bag, "Hey! Wanna get lunch at the taco place? My treat." 

Fuck. 

"Uh… rain check? I have uh… have to let Roach out." Geralt snagged his keys and wallet, praying Lambert didn't hear the little crinkle of foil he's hastily tucked into a card slot. 

Lambert quirked an eyebrow at him but shrugged it off, "Long as you're back on time." 

Geralt was speed walking down the hall, internally debating just how good of an idea this was. He might just walk past to his truck and actually go let his dog out. Nope. He glanced up and down the hall before cracking the door open. 

It was dark. Fuck. 

Before his self esteem could take a nosedive the door next to it opened and Jaskier leaned out, "That wasn't five minutes. Get in here. If Lambert finds us that's on you." 

Geralt cupped Jaskier's face and pressed their lips together, kissing him back into the dimly lit room and closing the door behind him, "He's caught me doing worse." 

"Mmm! Top or bottom?" Jaskier squeaked between kisses as he unzipped Geralt from the ridiculous Santa suit. 

He pulled back to step out of the onesie, left in his briefs and undershirt, "What?"

Jaskier was already peeling off his green leggings, "You wanna fuck? Or be fucked?" 

Geralt's cock twitched to life as he sheepishly admitted, "Be fucked." 

Jaskier groaned and bit his lip as he dug a condom out of his wallet, "Merry Christmas to me." 

Geralt chuckled, tossing his condom to Jaskier, "You're getting my hopes up." 

"Oh, darling," a dangerous look flashed in Jaskier's eyes, "pants off, face the door." 

Geralt shivered at his tone and did as he was told, pressing his hands to the cold metal and glancing back over his shoulder. Jaskier tore open one of the packs and rolled the condom over his fingers before coming to stand behind Geralt. 

"Are you going to be good and stay quiet for me?" 

Oh fuck. Geralt's breath hitched at his words and his cock ached to be touched. He bit his lip and nodded vigorously. 

Jaskier ran his other hand over his shoulders and back, guiding his feet back a bit so his ass was better presented, "You like that? Being told what to do? Giving up control?" 

Geralt pressed his forehead on the door, his breath coming in gasps already, "Yes, just don't call me 'honey'."

Jaskier pressed a kiss to his shoulder, "Wouldn't dream of it. Ready?" 

Geralt nodded and Jaskier dragged his two fingers over Geralt's hole, making use of the lube on the condom as best he could. Geralt shivered, and pushed out a breath to keep from moaning as Jaskier massaged his rim. 

"That's it, just relax. Let me make you feel good." Jaskier whispered in his ear, stroking his side and kissing the back of his neck, "Do you want to touch yourself?" 

Geralt hadn't even realized he was waiting for permission but fuck did he want to, "Please?" 

Jaskier stepped to the side a bit, still massaging Geralt while he tipped his chin toward him and kissed him, "Do what you want, love." 

Geralt gripped his cock and pumped ever so slowly, stifling another moan. Jaskier mouthed at his jaw and behind his ear as he slowly pushed one finger in, just to the first knuckle. Geralt's rhythm faltered and he gasped, "More." 

Jaskier's breath was shaky as he began pumping and curling his finger, looking for that lovely little spot. 

"Two," Geralt gasped, "you won't reach it without two fing-ehmm!"

Jaskier did exactly as he was told and a wave of pleasure rolled through Geralt's body, "Like…. This?" Jaskier curled his fingers again and held the pressure on Geralt's prostate for a few seconds while Geralt trembled. 

He whined as he nodded, canting his hips back. 

Jaskier stilled his ministrations and gathered Geralt to his chest to whisper in his ear, "I thought you said you'd be quiet for me?" 

"I can," Geralt whispered, "I promise." 

Jaskier hummed and pressed his palm over the center of Geralt's chest, "I'm going to add another finger. But you have to keep quiet." 

Geralt's hand pressed over Jaskier's, "I will. I will." He panted. 

Jaskier did as he'd said and Geralt bit down on his lip, finally feeling almost full. Jaskier began pumping again, pressing his own erection against Geralt's hip, "Good boy." 

Geralt rocked back against Jaskier's bulge, fucking himself on his fingers, "I'm ready." 

"You sure?" 

"One hundred percent." 

Jaskier pressed against his prostate one more time before slipping his hand out, making Geralt shudder and bite his knuckle to suppress a groan. Jaskier had the second condom out and ready almost immediately, lining himself up at Geralt's entrance as he ran his hands over his back in long soothing strokes. 

"You tell me when," Jaskier cooed, "pause for pause, stop for get out, work?" 

Geralt nodded and repeated the code before leaning against the door on one elbow with his palm flat against the metal, "Go ahead." 

Jaskier moaned as he slowly and steadily pushed in. Geralt twisted his hand over the head of his cock and almost forgot how to exhale he was so full. Jaskier slowly began rocking back and forth, maybe a centimeter or two at a time. As he started to thrust in earnest the bells on his costume started to jingle in time. 

Geralt tried to ignore it, but it was just so ridiculous and he was going to start laugh soon, "Jask, p-pause," he chuckled.

Jaskier froze, a hand coming to Geralt's neck and jaw, asking him wordlessly to look at him, "what is it?"

"The bells. Its- fuck it's too funny." 

Jaskier laughed as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it in a heap with his leggings, "Thank gods, they’re annoying." 

Geralt huffed in amusement as he rocked his hips a bit but his breaths quickly turned to pants as Jaskier picked up his pace again. For as quiet as he'd told Geralt to be, Jaskier was moaning wantonly whenever Geralt clenched or hummed as he brushed his prostate. 

Geralt had given up stroking his cock in favor of squeezing at the base for a while when Jaskier finally said he was close, staving off his orgasm as long as he could. The sweet slick fullness mixed with the near panic of constantly being on the edge was intoxicating and Geralt wanted to hang onto every second. 

Jaskier held his hips and squeezed like he'd really wanted to dig in and Geralt wished he would, "Are you-?" 

"Yes," Geralt really wasn't sure how he formed words, his whole body was pulsing and shaking. 

"F-fuck! Oh, Geralt. Sonofa-hmmm." Jaskier came with rough thrusts, keeping one hand wrapped around the base of the condom as he rode out his orgasm. 

Geralt gave himself three good pumps and that was all it took to send him over the edge. He barely kept his legs under him as he shook and groaned while Jaskier pulled out to dispose of the condom. He pressed his cheek against the door and sighed at the relief on his slightly sweaty skin, only mildly aware of Jaskier getting dressed behind him. 

"Geralt, how do you feel?" Jaskier brushed some stray hairs out of his face. 

"Hmmm."

"Good hmmm?" 

Geralt nodded and pushed off the door, running a hand through his hair to pull himself together. 

Jaskier didn't seem to be in a rush though, helping him get dressed and clean up in his rather hazy afterglow. He lead Geralt over to one of the benches and sat down, pulling Geralt into his lap, straddling his hips. His arms wrapped around Geralt's waist and pulled him close, one hand snaking into his hair and lightly scratching little circles on his scalp. Geralt hummed in exhausted pleasure and laid his head on Jaskier's shoulders, wrapping his arms around his ribs. 

"For as scary as you look, you're a big softie," Jaskier laughed, giving him a little squeeze. 

Geralt heaved a sigh as if raising his head from Jaskier's shoulder was a monumental effort, "I thought you said 'handsome'?" He teased, looking to Jaskier's lips as if to ask permission. 

Jaskier pressed a soft kiss to his lips, overwhelmingly gentle for a quickie in a supply closet, "Scary good-looking," he mumbled between kisses. 

Geralt let out an amused huff and before he could stop himself, asked, "Wanna go get lunch?" 

Jaskier pulled back to look at him in bewilderment. 

Geralt scrambled to take it back, failing miserably, "Unless- I mean. We fucked in a mall closet I'm not saying- i- fuck, I ruined it." 

Jaskier placed a finger over his lips and smiled, "I'd love to." 

[jaskierswolf]

Geraskier bathroom fucking at a night club 👀 (from @geraskier-trashh)

@geraskier-trashh Dani, what a prompt <3 I hope I did it justice. 932 words.

Warnings: Anal sex, it’s on the rough side, it’s implied they’ve been drinking but they aren’t drunk (more sort of buzzed), oh and public sex, although I figure that’s implied by the prompt. 18+

Jaskier cursed as his back slammed against the bathroom stall. The adonis of a man was tearing at the zipper on his jeans, hands pressing against his already hard dick. He hissed and let his head fall back against the stall. His jeans were forced down by rough hands, and his moaned wantonly as lips sucked just below his jaw. He’d always been weak for neck kisses.

“Fuck,” he gasped, head tilting to allow the silver-haired stranger better access to his neck.

“Hmm…” the man agreed. “No underwear?”

Jaskier laughed breathlessly. “In these jeans? No.”

He hummed again and then Jaskier heard the sound of ripping plastic, gasping as slick fingers teased his hole. “Oh shit!”

He’d been watching the man ever since he’d walked into the bar, long silver hair tied up in a bun, black leather jacket and thick eyeliner to match. His black jeans were sinfully tight and Jaskier hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the man’s strong muscular thighs and perfect arse. He hadn’t been subtle either, swaying his hips as he approached the bar, offering to buy perfect-arse a drink with a wink and a lick of his lips. The man’s gorgeous yellow eyes had practically devoured him on the spot and no more than ten minutes later had they fallen into the bathroom stall, barely able to break apart. Jaskier knew this was just a quickie in the bathroom but god, he wanted live the rest of his life kissing this man, this perfect gorgeous, god of a man.

And he didn’t even know his name…

He groaned, arse bearing down on the fingers that were fucking him, too quickly to be considered foreplay, they were both too eager to get that promisingly large cock up Jaskier’s arse. The man growled scissoring his fingers, the stretch almost too much. It stung a little but he didn’t mind, he wanted to feel this in the morning, never wanting to forget this gorgeous man. Jaskier pulled his lips from the man’s neck, smirking at the bruise he’d already left behind, before his smile was wiped from his face, fingers pushing deeper and brushing his prostate. He whined, eyes fluttering shut. “Holy shit, fuck!”

“Fuck, you’re so hot,”

“Ah, shit… I’m… I’m Jaskier,” he gasped, mouthing at the marks he’d left on the man’s neck, his fingers tugging at the hair tie that kept the long silver strands safely from Jaskier’s grasp.

“Geralt,” the man, Geralt, growled, moaning as Jaskier pulled at his hair. “Fuck.”

Jaskier giggled and pulled again, harder, thrusting his hips against Geralt’s. “Geralt,” he purred in his ear, his voice dropping to a low growl “I’m ready, darling, fuck me… make me come, ruin me.”

Geralt swore again, fumbling with his own trousers this time. Jaskier’s eyes went wide as Geralt’s cock was finally freed, he’d known it was big just from the sight of the hard bulge in the front of Geralt’s too tight jeans but holy fuck. He was never going to walk again, his knees felt weak at the thought, he whimpered and pulled Geralt into a fierce kiss, jumping up and wrapping his legs around Geralt’s waist. Geralt caught him easily, pressing his back against the stall, and Jaskier heard the sound of a condom wrapper… fucking finally.

“Can you at least try and stay quiet?” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier nodded, gasping as he felt the blunt tip of Geralt’s cock pressing against his arse, teasing, so much thicker than his fingers. His head was already spinning, heat burning over every inch of his skin, every touch was like fire. His promise to be quiet soon forgotten as Geralt slid inside him, it was almost too much. He was just so big and Jaskier felt tears prick in his eyes at the pain, but they didn’t have long and Geralt was already moving. Jaskier sobbed as the pain turned to pleasure, all he could feel was Geralt, all he needed was Geralt, fucking him hard, slamming him into stall with every thrust. It took a few attempts to get the angle right, Geralt growling in frustration until a desperate cry fell from Jaskier’s lips, and then Jaskier was helpless in Geralt’s arms, just along for the ride as he was fucked within an inch of his life. His orgasm blinded him, sobbing into Geralt’s shoulder as he tried to muffle his screams. He wasn’t sure how long he blacked out for but he vaguely registered Geralt’s low groan before he pulled out, falling against the other side of the stall.

Jaskier whimpered, sliding to the floor, fucked out and blissfully ignorant of the sticky mess of a public bathroom. “Fuck,” he whispered.

Geralt snorted. “Yeah.”

He buried his face in his hands, trying to wash away the fog of his orgasm, but he was struggling, his heart was still thumping in his chest. He rest his head back and closed his eyes. “We are so doing that again sometime.” “Yeah.”

He laughed as their eyes met, Geralt looked completely wrecked, face flushed, lips red and swollen, bruises blooming on his neck. His hair was a mess from Jaskier’s hands pulling at it in desperation, and his clothes were askew. Jaskier smirked, quite proud of his handiwork, although he knew he probably looked just as bad, if not worse. There was no way they were escaping the bathroom without anyone realising what they’d been doing. It was a lost cause.

“My place isn’t far… if you wanted…?” he trailed off, knowing Geralt would understand.

“Fuck, yes.”

_______

Tag list (18+ tag list): @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos  @moonysourenza @00qtee @honeysuckletook @elliestormfound @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral  @kittynannygaming @stinastar @fontegagrilledcheese @baka-yu @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @wherethewordsare

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

We Aren’t Dating

Hello Lovelies <3 This is my second (of five) prompt fills for my 500 Follower Raffle! 

This is for the delightful @negativenuggetz who requested the pairing Jaskier/Eskel and the trope “didn’t realize they were dating”

This devolved into a lot of dialogue so I hope you enjoy their interaction! I was going for Peak Dumbass Energy.

-

“Hey Jask, did you see this?” Eskel called out into the tiny apartment he shared with his best friend.

Jaskier popped his head out of his bedroom door, shirtless and hair mussed, having just woken up, “Seen what?”

Eskel had been going through about a week’s worth of mail the two had been ignoring when he’d found the card, “It’s an invite from Regis for some Valentine’s party he’s throwing.”

“Oh, cool. Is it on Valentine’s?” Jaskier walked back into his bedroom, leaving the door open.

“Yeah,” Eskel responded, raising his voice slightly to make sure Jaskier could still hear him.

He heard a shuffling sound come from Jaskier’s room, followed by a thud, before Jaskier walked out of his room, now fully dressed, “Well, I didn’t have any plans, did you?”

Eskel shrugged, “Nope. Do you want to go?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Checking the RSVP information, Eskel quicky pulled out his phone and sent a text to Regis, confirming the pair would be there.

-

Eskel and Jaskier walked into the foyer of Regis’ mansion estate and Eskel let out a low whistle, “He’s out done himself with the decorations this year.”

Jaskier grabbed two glasses of champagne off a nearby tray and handed one to Eskel with a smile, “Indeed he did, and I think we should do our best to enjoy it.”

Eskel clinked his glass to Jaskier’s in toast and took a sip, looking around the room. It wasn’t long before he locked eyes with Regis, the older man smiling brightly and spreading his arms wide as he walked over to where Eskel and Jaskier were standing, “I’m so glad you two made it! I wasn’t sure you’d come what with how secretive you boys can be about your relationship sometimes.”

Eskel furrowed his brow and shot a confused look toward Jaskier who looked just as confused, “What do you mean?” Eskel asked.

“Everyone knows we’re best friends,” Jaskier chimed in.

Regis cocked his head to the side, looking between the two, “Well, yes. But I don’t think everyone has realized that the two of you are together.”

Jaskier snorted, “What do you mean ‘together’?”

“That you’re dating.”

This time it was Eskel’s turn to snort, “We aren’t dating.”

Regis raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, staring at Eskel, “You aren’t a couple?”

“No.” Eskel responded shortly, looking to Jaskier for help. Jaskier shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in response.

Regis gave the two a bemused smile and shook his head, “Yes you are.”

“No, we aren’t!” Jaskier exclaimed.

“What could we have done to make you think we were together?” Eskel asked, laughing.

“You two made out for five straight minutes on New Year’s Eve.”

Jaskier scoffed, “You have to kiss someone at midnight, Regis, it’s for good luck.”

Eskel nodded in agreement.

Regis looked between the two, his bemused expression becoming more concerned by the second, “And what about the Halloween party?”

“Sometimes the vibes just make you want to make out with someone.” Jaskier said defensively.

Eskel pointed at Jaskier as if it would somehow prove the others man’s point before adding, “Friends kiss sometimes, Regis. It’s normal.”

“Yeah!” Jaskier agreed, “It happens.”

“It’s not like we’re having sex!”

Jaskier nodded emphatically, “Precisely! Well, except for that one time.”

Eskel froze and turned to Jaskier, “I didn’t think we were supposed to talk about that.”

“Oh…” Jaskier hesitated, “I mean… we don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

“No. I mean… if you wanted to…”

Regis stared at the two for a beat longer before turning around and walking away, not sure exactly what he had just witnessed, but positive he was far too old to deal with it.

-

Check out my masterlist!

Tag list: @stinastar​ @feraljaskier​ @bastardofmothman​ @hailhailsatan​ @moonysourenza​ @its-onions​ @elliestormfound​ @dapandapod​ @geraskier-trashh​ @jaskierswolf​ @fontegagrilledcheese​ @negativenuggetz @veritasrose @feral-jaskier @kozkaboi

special shout out to @thecomfortofoldstorries who made this banter happen <3 thanks darling

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I started reading The Wedding Date and then also read some smut so here’s this thing.

Rating: mature relationship: Geraskier, past Yenneralt tags: one-night stand, Geralt thinks too much

Jaskier was very surprised when the man he’d been flirting with approached him after his set and asked bluntly, “Will you come home with me?”

Priscilla snorted in derision. Jaskier, who was already halfway to asking for a quickie, grinned and said, “Only if you promise to wreck me.”

That made Priscilla stare at him, alarmed and disbelieving; it also made the man step forward to loom over Jaskier, his pupils huge, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth, revealing a flash of sharp teeth.

“I promise,” he said.

Jaskier stepped closer too, and placed his hand on the man’s gloriously firm chest. “Alright. Kiss me and we can go.”

The man obliged.

Priscilla snatched Jaskier’s lute and said, “Go get it over with, you dummy.”

“Mmm,” said Jaskier.

~

Geralt was quite dazed when he and the musician fell onto the bed and began to yank each other’s clothes off. This bastard was almost too much after Yennefer; he was enthusiastic, wanting pleasure instead of power, digging his nails into Geralt’s shoulders because he wanted more, faster, rougher. Geralt hadn’t been rough to a lover in years.

The musician moaned, long and low and hungry, when Geralt pressed his finger inside his hole. So tight. So pretty. Geralt licked a nipple and the other man cried out, rocking back on Geralt’s finger. So, so pretty.

“Pretty,” Geralt sighed, sinking his teeth into that soft, warm belly. “Smell good.”

“Fucking hell, I want you,” the musician gasped. “More, please, make me open, I want to be open for you.”

Geralt hummed and used his tongue to ease him wider. The other cried out and grabbed Geralt’s hair, but didn’t pull it. That was nice. Pulling made Geralt nervous.

The scent of the musician was driving him insane. He removed his tongue long enough to press a kiss between his bedmate’s balls, then returned to his hole, making him cry out again.

The condom and lube were on the bedside table. The musician applied lube to Geralt’s dick, while Geralt slicked up his ass.

He hadn’t known men could make such filthy noises.

“Pretty,” he panted, looking over his lover. His cock was heavy and red. His skin seemed to glow in the light through the curtains. The look on his face was desperate and ecstatic. And for a moment, Geralt felt ashamed.

He readjusted his grip and slammed into the musician three times in rapid succession. When this produced only a string of curses and compliment for his cock, he settled into a more even rhythm, fascinated by the musician’s pleasure. So unlike his last few lovers. So into it.

Geralt sunk into it too, and stopped thinking.

~

In the morning, Jaskier woke to the man he’d slept with cursing.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, turning over to stroke his hand up and down the man’s arm.

“My ex just texted me,” the man said tightly. “I’m now required to bring a date to her wedding tomorrow.”

Jaskier snorted and replied jokingly, “If you can’t find anyone, I’ll come. I love weddings. And being a man’s date when his annoying ex is a woman.”

“We’re both gay,” the man said. Then he sat up straighter, and pinned Jaskier with that golden stare. Jaskier’s breath caught. He was so fucking gorgeous. Like a god in his prime.

“What are your plans tomorrow?” the man asked.

[janiedean]

Uh, I didn't see that meme! Glad you're keeping open for a little longer! :D Let's see... 33 for Geraskier and 23 for Yenraltskier?

(33 was posted before so this is for 23 ;) )

23: “We need to act quickly–he doesn’t have much time.”

“Sorry, what -”

“I’m not telling you again,” Yennefer says. “We need to act quickly - he doesn’t have much time and I’m pretty sure you want his ass in one piece and I certainly don’t want you to lose the only damned person who’ll stick with you regardless because - never mind that. You know what you have to do. Five minutes at most, Geralt. Got it?”

“… Right,” Geralt sighs, “got it.” He could have added something else, except that Yennefer is already off by the time he opens his mouth, heading for the town square straight ahead.

Five minutes.

He can wait five minutes, help her out with her scheme and then say his piece later, he supposes - they had talked about it briefly and he had figured it’d take a while to get there, but at this point… well.

At this point, maybe they should just go with it.

He leans against the wall and waits.

–

Jaskier really needs to start asking people if they’re married before flirting back if they bat their eyelids at him.

He’s sworn himself that he’d start doing that countless times - actually, to just… calm down when it came to finding beds to tumble into -, except that since Yennefer has been around more often than not and they came to an understanding he has found himself not just pining after Geralt but also wondering how it would feel to have a tumble into her bed, and… a man can be frustrated until a point, all right?

So, when the maid had flirted with him that afternoon, he did flirt back.

Too bad she’s apparently unhappily married to the tanner whose shop is right in front of the inn, who is really not taking things well.

“I swear,” Jaskier says again, “it was all a misunderstanding, nothing actually happened.” False, for that matter, there had been a quickie in the stables, but still -

“I’ll believe that when the sun rises west,” the man mutters, sounding like he’s really really fucking pissed off, “and since the alderman takes this kind of offense seriously -”

“Where in the world did you even end up?”

What the -

Before he can wonder why is Yennefer shrieking right next to me, she’s in his line of sight and she’s slapped him in the face once, though… not as hard as she could have.

“I can’t believe that I go fetch my clothes ten minutes and here I find you chasing after someone else’s skirts, you cheating bastard!”

Oh.

Oh.

She’s also staring at him with the face of someone who’s telling him to hold her fucking cover or else she really will have his head.

“Yen, darling,” he pleads, getting into the part very quickly, “I swear I could never look at any other woman.”

“Oh, that’s what you always fucking say!” She shouts again. “Always sweet words and songs and poems and then I always find you trying to fuck other people, that’s the damned problem!”

“I don’t!” He shouts back, trying to sound as enraged at the idea as possible. “All right, fine, maybe I can look, but how could I ever think about touching someone else when you are waiting for me when I come home?”

“Really,” Geralt’s voice comes from somewhere at his side, wait, what, he’s just approached the tanner with the face of someone who just wants to be as far from here as possible, “I’m, uh, those two, both of them were come from… cursed families. Both of them. Which is why they hired me to solve the problem and I’ve been following them for a while.”

What story is that fucking even? “And I hope you will solve it soon,” Yennefer says, “we’ve been together for months, I would really like to tie that knot.”

Jaskier is about to die of a heart attack here. What?

“… A curse is preventing you from getting married?” The tanner repeats.

She shrugs. “See,” she says, “my grandfather was a bad sort of person and got a witch angry once, so she cursed all his descendants to drop dead if they chose to marry someone else. While his father didn’t want him to be a musician, so he cursed him to lose his voice should he want to settle down with someone, knowing that he’s certainly not celibate.” Oh. Oh. She definitely came up with it. Geralt could have never made that up. “That might cause a problem or fifteen, so that’s indeed why we hired the witcher here.”

Geralt clears his throat. He looks pained inside. Then he lowers his voice, a bit more than usual. “In all confidence, my good man,” he says, “look at her. Who would be so fucking stupid to even touch another woman when she is his intended? I have been around them for a month and I’m sure she’d geld him if he even only tried.”

The tanner considers it. “Well,” he says, “I don’t see why a witcher would lie to me. And the lady does make a point. Guess I misunderstood,” he says, and finally grabs his wife and goes back home. Or something.

The audience gathered in front of the inn senses that the show is over and they go back home, too.

Jaskier lets out a breath of relief.

“Woah,” he says, “you two really put on a good show, didn’t you?”

“She did,” Geralt groans, “I just went with it.”

“It was more amusing than I had presumed,” Yennefer smiles, “except that you really do have a death wish, bard.”

Fair point, he supposes. “I… guess,” he sighs. “It’s just - never mind. I know. I kind of did try to, uh, avoid it, but -”

“I suppose,” Yennefer smiles, “that being in the room next to ours regularly might make a man feel like getting his rocks off?”

Jaskier knows he’s gone red in the face.

Geralt is halfway smiling, too, which - fine. This is fine. He can wing it.

“And what if it was the case?” He asks, tentatively, trying to not sound like he’s angry about it or anything, and then Yennefer looks at Geralt with a very, very wicked grin, and -

Geralt grits his teeth for a moment, then looks at him and his face is suddenly not as constipated anymore, and - “If it’s the case,” he says, “we have been talking and neither of us would object if you knocked on the door instead of seducing married women. And since we have to sleep here tonight, maybe��you might want to make sure that everyone knows you’re not sleeping with the maid. And now I have to go find a fucking real contract before you two drive me both completely insane,” he says, and then goes off in the other direction.

Jaskier blinks at Yennefer, who just grins back.

“Did he mean it?”

“Door’s open, bard,” she winks. “I have an errand to run and I suppose you have some songs to work on, so how about we see each other later? I’m extremely interested in finding out why exactly do all those women risk their husbands’ wrath to have a tumble in bed with you. Just come talk to me before the set if you have ideas to share - I do think Geralt’s wanted you for years, so we might as well give him a good time, right?”

Then she also goes off to where Jaskier thinks the apothecary is located.

Well -

Well then.

He smiles to himself as he goes back inside the inn and heads upstairs.

He does have a few songs to work on, and he definitely needs to come up with a list to present to Yennefer later.

After all, if he wants them to invite him again, he will have to impress, but he thinks he can do that.

He can do that indeed.

[silenceinwinter2019]

A Quickie Geraskier Fiction/Snippet

Hi Everyone, I’m kinda new to Tumblr. This little piece may sprawl into a longer fiction, because I guess we all want to see the dumb but hot witcher apologizes to his bard, and Jaskier makes him work for it, right? 

PS. I just made it up that Jaskier’s hometown/where he first met the wolf is called “Tameria”(I know, super random). Let me know if I should be corrected.

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He always liked Tameria. The villagers had always been civil, more than what was expected of them, to a witcher. They didn’t spit to the floor he walked on, tilted their head in a smallest bow if they failed to look away fast enough, and had yet to cheat him out of a commission when he finished his job, bring back the severed heads of whatever monsters; there were even a few instances when he caught some not uncomely tavern girls sizing him up stealthily, serving him with extra slices of cheese on his order.

What he liked most about Tameria was, despite all the civility, all villagers would just leave him alone,  with that blessed peace and warm ale.

Well, almost all villagers.

If not for a particularly annoying bard.

He hadn’t seen him for two years. The last time they had met, the young man had taken the Witcher’s rage thrashed onto him pliantly, though pliancy was not his usual trait, and though he had not deserved his rage. For all the times he had told Jaskier off, the bard had always laughed off his annoyance, as if the white haired man was just being a bad flirt, as if witchers would flirt, as if he the bard had been a gracious court lady, humoring an unseasoned suitor.

Countless times he had dismissed his curse and expulsion with a twinkle in his eye, and one time with a ukulele jingle while he was skinning a kikimore.

“Geralt of Rivia, stripping a Kikia by its rear.” He had been hopping around him with a skip in his feet, his voice a pitch too high for the gory scenes being depicted.

“Rhyme needs more work.” He had told the bard, focusing on the task at hand. The monster’s blood had smelled of decay, and he had frowned when Jaskier stepped closer, leaned over with his head.

A few soft strands of his curl, barely noticeable brush on his bare forearm. His mutagen heightened senses had picked up warm scents of amber and myrtles, and all of a sudden the stench of the kikimore’s cadaver had felt almost tolerable.

“I know you like my songs.” A flash of grins.

Ever so lighthearted and ever so jolly.

Yet, that day at the hills where the golden dragon ordained his fate with the beautiful yet stubborn mage, something was different. There was a cruelty never heard before in the White Wolf’s voice when he told the bard off.

Perhaps that was what had finally done the trick. Because for once, the bard had listened.

They had been facing each other by the cliff. All jolliness had gone from these crystal blue eyes. The bard had stood at the same spot for a minute too long, as if he had been deranged enough to think he would take these words back.

“Right. Well…” Finally, the young man had mumbled, before turning around and slowly walking away.

Did he look back then? To look at the man who had learned to refer to him as ‘my witcher’ and who he chose to drive out of his life.

And why on earth--he simply could not figure out--did the young man look utterly shattered, more shattered than a Bard would be to be rid of a travelling Witcher?

He must have looked back then, because he remembered seeing a small limp in Jaskier’s steps, and a slouch in his back. The setting sun had softened the hue of his scarlet tunic, making the garment look almost bloodstained.

That was the last sight he had of the bard.

He had watched him walking away in silence. He had not called him back, his head buzzling with the newly found call of duty. Standing at the edge of the cliff that day, He had already been envisioning a plan to return to Cintra, retrieving his Surprise Child, and facing his Destiny eye to eye.

And he had not seen him ever since.