Sep 12, 2024
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Hi! The touching ask game 8, 18 or 28. Whichever you prefer!!
Look. I did all three of them. And I know you said touching, but I accidently had some kissing too. Some Geraskier cuteness, coming right up!
Thank you for prompting me, I had so much fun writing this!!
On Ao3 here! Prompts: 8. shielding the other one with their body, 18. squishing the other’s cheek and 28. feeling for each other in the dark
Prompt me something? <3 “Geralt? Is that you?” Jaskier looks around in the complete darkness, his hands outstretched in front of him, trying to find something for him to orient himself with. He can hear something rustling in the room, and he hopes to everything holy that that is indeed Geralt and not what Geralt came to kill. Or a bandit or something. Jaskier has a rich imagination.
“I’m here.” Geralt grunts somewhere in front of him, and Jaskier follows the sound of his voice.
His eyes are wide open but still he sees nothing, not even his own hands. Then a hand finds his arms, and Jaskier latches onto it like it’s a lifeline. He pats his way up that hand that grabbed his arm, up over the elbow and oh, that is a well shaped bicep, and up that shoulder. This is most likely Geralt, but he can’t see, and if it was a bandit or a monster he would have been stabbed by now. But just to be sure, he pats all the way until he reaches a neck, and then feels his way up it and onto the face.
He can hear someone sigh, it could be Geralt, it also could be an evil assailant bent on taking all that Jaskier owns in the most inconvenient of ways. Indeed, just to be sure, he squishes that face. He has squished that face to annoy his witcher just a few times before, and he is absolutely sure he would recognize Geralt this way.
“What are you doing?” The someone that could be Geralt asks, sounding tired.
“I'm trying to decide on whether you are Geralt or not. Hold still, Geralt, or I won’t know.”
Another exasperated sigh, and Jaskier grins widely and he flattens his palm over Geralt's cheeks and makes that adorable little squished face that makes him look like a duck.
“Jaskier.” Geralt complains, but doesn’t shove him off. He never does for some reason, and Jaskier won’t ever stop.
“Yes, yes, I know that whiny tone, this is the old, grumpy and oh so dangerous witcher friend of mine.” He concedes, but doesn’t let go of Geralt's face. It’s soft, its lines and edges easier to explore when Geralt isn’t watching him. He pretends the wild beating of his heart is because of the sudden darkness, not Geralt's hands gripping his waist.
“We should get you out of here.” Geralt murmurs, his lips moving under Jaskiers thumb as he explores. It tickles, and he lets his thumb stroke Geralt's cupid bow and along the seam of his lips.
He feels bold, much bolder than he ever thought he would.
“We should.” Jaskier agrees, not moving an inch. He can’t see anyway, and Geralt isn’t trying to escape him. Which is very interesting and absolutely something that spurs Jaskier on like nothing else.
Maybe he would dare to kiss Geralt here? In the darkness away from prying eyes?
As if Geralt read his mind, he can feel Geralt take a step closer, their bodies so close now they are almost touching.
“You are not very good at making me leave.” Jaskier murmurs, his hands sliding upwards, his fingers brushing Geralt's ears as they slide over his jaw and into his hair.
“Neither are you.” Geralt murmurs back. Jaskier wishes he could see, all of a sudden. Wishes to see if Geralt's eyes would dip and look at Jaskiers lips. If there is a blush spreading, if his pupils are blown wide. If he imagines Geralt's breath on his lips, or if he is just more sensitive here in the dark.
He is not imagining it. Geralt presses his lips to Jaskiers, just a little off. They adjust as they part, and Geralt kisses him again. Jaskier feels like he is flying, his balance is all over the place, but holding onto Geralt, leaning into him, helps.
Somewhere, a door slams, and there is a loud hiss from something with many teeth.
Jaskier loses his grip when Geralt turns, twisting to face the door, placing himself between Jaskier and whatever is down there that Geralt actually came here to kill.
“Don’t leave this room.” Geralt says, and then the soft sound of a sword being drawn.
“Make up your mind.” Jaskier croaks, not yet the master of his voice. His lips tingle, his heart races, his palms are sweaty, and he doubts he would be able to leave the room even if he tried. Geralt chuckles, and then runs off into the darkness.
Oh, the OOC banter amuses.
Friend: (*screaming* I am far too emotionally invested in this now I hope you know that)
Me: (( I am evil. ))
Friend: (NO YOU'RE WONDERFUL AND PERFECT AND I WANT TO SQUISH YOUR FACE)
Friend: (In a nice way)
Me: (( Not in a "you should have let me sleep" way. ))
prince-arthas replied to your post: So even though we live in New Hampshire, my friend...
WHY ARE YOU GOING TO MAINE NOW THAT I DON’T LIVE THERE ANYMORE
I BLAME LIFE BECAUSE MY FRIEND TOLD ME ABOUT THIS MEETUP LIKE LAST WEEK AND I WAS LIKE 'YO I'LL LET YOU KNOW WHAT I'M WORKING AND WE'LL SEE' AND SOMEHOW I ACTUALLY GOT THE DAY OFF WITHOUT HAVING TO ASK FOR IT OR ANYTHING. THE 5TH IS FOOD STAMP DAY, I AM SO SURPRISED. I NEVER HAD THIS LUCK WHEN YOU LIVED UP HERE SKLGHSDLKFJGKLSDFJSKDL
DON'T WORRY GIDEON, IN A MONTH I WILL SQUISH YOUR FACE <3
#gpoy