holy fucking shit yall really loved the first one so I wrote some more
this is totally self indulgent tho. like yall have no idea. if i could live in any AU it would be this one. i have so many feels.
Warnings: drinking mention, nothing over the top, unwanted pics taken but like they’re celebrities? i guess, we get a bit emotional about past relationships/crushes but nothing too heavy
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Jaskier had no idea how he got there, but he was knocking on a green room door with a temporary label reading ‘The Witchers’ before the stadium had completely emptied.
Lambert yanked the door open, Aiden clinging to his back like a monkey, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head before a huge grin spread over his face, “Hey there, Jaskier!”
Eskel grumbled, “Haha, Bert. No need to fuck with Geralt.”
Jaskier shoved his hands in his corduroys and rocked up onto his toes, “He’s not fucking with anyone,” he laughed, desperately trying to keep the nerves out of his voice as he peeked around the door jam.
Geralt was curled up in the corner of a couch, now wearing a massive grey-blue hoodie and gold wire-rimmed glasses, scribbling in a composition notebook propped up on his knees. His hair was pulled back in a disaster of a bun with pieces falling in his face but Jaskier absolutely loved it. It suited him. He hesitated a moment before scrawling one last line in his notebook, brow furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip.
When he looked up he snapped his notebook shut, “Holy fuck,” he breathed, “Hi!”
His eyes were actually gold. Jaskier had just thought that was some thirst driven exaggeration. He expected light brown, but no. He was staring directly at eyes that practically sparkled.
Lambert waved Jaskier in and he hesitantly stepped through the door, “Hi! I uh, dig your boots.”
“Th- Thank you,” Geralt bit back a grin, blushing bright pink as he stood up, “I didn’t think you’d see my message. Or respond.”
“After that performance?” Jaskier, normally bard-worthy with his quick tongue and easy conversation, was feeling his own cheeks heat up as he scrambled for something to say, “I’m honestly not sure if I even locked my car when I came back in.”
Eskel snickered from behind Jaskier, stretching and putting his feet up on a coffee table, “Told ya.”
Aiden sighed and rested his chin on top of Lambert’s head, “This is so cute.”
Jaskier laughed, not entirely uncomfortably but definitely awkward, and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Geralt.
Geralt pushed his glasses farther up his nose and snatched his wallet from the coffee table, “I offered drinks. You wanna…” Geralt trailed off and made an exasperated, and maybe a little annoyed face at the guys behind him but when Jaskier turned around they were pretending to mind their own business, “How does Pensive sound?”
Jaskier shot him a grin, “Sounds perfect.”
Geralt snagged his keys from a bag and held the door open for Jaskier, “After you.”
-
“Okay so,” Jaskier took a sip of his drink and set it in line with their two empty glasses and a napkin holder, “Aiden and Lambert fuck?” he asked, pushing an empty glass and the napkin holder together. Geralt snorted and nodded so he went on, “And Eskel and Lambert are brothers?” Another nod as he tapped the two empty glasses, “And you and Eskel were college roommates?” he asked, gesturing to his half-empty glass.
Geralt grinned, “You know, you’re keeping up pretty well for a self-proclaimed lightweight.”
Geralt leaned his head back and laughed and Jaskier was absolutely done for. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand as he stared dreamily at this adorable man. He was carefree and soft around the edges, nothing like Jaskier had expected from the lyrics he’d listened to all night. And either he was a good listener or Jaskier had had one too many vodka-crans.
When Geralt finally got himself under control he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes before placing them back on his nose with a grimace, “I shouldn’t have taken my contacts out.”
“Old prescription?”
Geralt blushed, “Don’t usually wear them in public,” He admitted, pushing the frames higher.
Jaskier must have had too much to drink because he reached out and tucked a curly strand of white hair behind Geralt’s ear, “I think they’re cute on you.”
Geralt’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jaskier, jaw hanging down just a bit, his pupils blown wide. Jaskier bit his lip and smiled as he pulled his hand away and rested it on the table between them, hoping Geralt would get the hint. Gods he just wanted to hold his hand and giggle until the sun came up.
“Thank you,” Geralt muttered, blinking a couple times and laying one of his hands over Jaskier’s.
“Can I ask you something?”
Geralt licked his lips and nodded, shaking the hair loose that Jaskier had just tucked away.
“Why that song?” Jaskier stared at their hands, not having the courage to look at Geralt in case the answer wasn’t what he wanted it to be.
“Hmm…” he didn’t sound upset, but he was certainly choosing his words carefully, “I’ve done the whole.. How do I put it?” Jaskier looked up at him only to see him staring at their hands too, “...‘I could be enough for you if you’d let me’ dance more times than I can count… and knowing it would never happen but yearning anyway…” he chuckled and glanced up at Jaskier, a sad look of acceptance in his eyes, “And I love your voice.”
Of course, he’d heard those words before, it was his job to have a good voice, but fuck, they hit different coming from Geralt. He was so earnest and disarmingly handsome that Jaskier felt anything he said would make him giddy. His chest felt warm and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. He had planned on showering Geralt with praise and adoration, not the other way around.
Jaskier squeezed his hand, “I love yours too,” he whispered.
There was that gorgeous blush again, making Jaskier’s heart skip a beat.
“I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re not magnificent,” Jaskier mumbled, watching Geralt blush even deeper and dip his head so the loose hairs covered his face a bit. Jaskier may have been a flirty drunk, but he was one hundred percent sure he’d be just as forward with Geralt sober. He wasn’t leaving the bar without making damn sure Geralt knew he was gorgeous and talented and everything Jaskier could imagine wanting in life.
“Careful. You can’t just say things like that,” Geralt warned, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a guarded but amused smile.
“And why not?”
Geralt squinted at him for a moment, “I might believe you.”
“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier started, sitting up and turning to square his hips toward him, holding his large hand in both of his, “I don’t mince words. I mean everything I say. And tweet. I really do think you’re wonderful. And I really do want you to sing me to sleep. Sometime. Anytime. I’m not picky.”
Geralt raised his eyebrows and took a breath in to say something but was interrupted by a camera flash in the low light of the bar and someone swearing.
“Oi!” Jaskier turned toward the light, and the idiot fumbling with their phone.
Geralt squeezed his hand before he could say anything more, “It’s alright. The hair kinda glows in the dark, I’m used to it. I was thinking we could get out of here?”
Jaskier did his best not to let the sly smile take over his face and give him away, “Would you like to come to my place?”
Geralt grinned, “Absolutely. Mine is a shit show right now.”
“Is it really that bad?” Jaskier joked as they stood.
“Eskel is a slob,” Geralt laughed.
“Mine it is!” Jaskier declared, slapping enough cash to cover their drinks and an exorbitant tip on the table.
They walked out of the bar with Geralt’s arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, both with giddy smiles and a little extra pep in their step.
I have.... idea. That only you can do. Geraskier Utter Peril (fire? falling rock? u decide!) and when it's over and they find each other, there is relief, and tears, and frantic kisses to make sure they're both okay. An "I almost lost you" moment basically.
oh I do love some post-peril snuggling
tw: near-death experience (but everyone lives), description of panic
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Jaskier’s heart is pounding. His palms are sweating. His eyes can’t seem to focus no matter how many times he blinks or squints; he’s desperate to find Geralt and he just... just fucking can’t.
“Geralt?” he calls, hands reaching forward into the darkness. Searching. Seeking. Finally his fingers close around cloth, the body-warm cloth of Geralt’s torn black shirt. The Witcher is breathing heavily, and his arms drop around Jaskier with a sense of such profound relief that they both nearly fall to their knees.
“Jaskier, fuck,” the Witcher chokes out, nose buried in the bard’s dusty brown hair. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Likewise,” the bard manages to laugh. His lungs constrict strangely and he gasps for breath again, desperate to be close to his Witcher. “I thought” - he burrows into Geralt’s chest, face pressed against as much skin as possible - “I thought you were dead. I thought you’d been crushed by the rubble. When I woke up and you weren’t right next to me, I panicked.”
“It’s alright, Jaskier. It’s okay. I made it. You made it. We’re okay,” Geralt breathes, holding Jaskier even closer. Tighter. As if letting go might allow the building to collapse even more. He’ll protect the delicate bard huddled in the circle of his arms with his life, no matter what. “We’ll wait here for help. Yennefer will find us.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Jaskier’s muffled voice responds. He’s glad, not for the first time, that they’d asked her for help when exploring the old tunnels beneath a cursed castle. “Don’t let me go until she comes?”
Geralt kisses Jaskier’s forehead and pulls the bard’s face into his neck, cupping the back of Jaskier’s head with his hand. He makes a castle of his arms and hides Jaskier within it. Safe and sound.
Heyo bouncy, coming to collect my fic for the Geralt with w/ nip piercings edit! Can i get some monster-ish looking geralt (or go full monster cryptid if ya want) with a jaskier who loves him v much fangs claws and all? Spice level up to u, just pls dont make it super sad as I cry like a lil bitch. (Also feel free to hit me more tat/piercing edits and ill do my best to deliver!)
(Ayyy thank you so much for that edit by the way. Excellent addition to the Tiddy Discourse)
it will be fluffy as fuck, my friend
featuring a real British cryptid that I have appropriated for my purposes (this is NOT related to my BATB crossover series)
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Jaskier whistled a jaunty tune and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as he picked his way over fallen branches and twining roots. The wind was starting to pick up and he felt the biting cold in his face and hands; hopefully he was growing close enough to summon his lover’s aid.
“Geralt?” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Geralt, where are you?”
There was a dark flash of shadow from the corner of Jaskier’s weak human vision and then there he was in all his shaggy, canine-heavy glory: the Beast of Bohdren Moor.
Geralt stood just over six-and-a-half feet tall, even when he stooped his shoulders forward to seem more menacing. His hair was a wild, snow-white mess; though it was more tamable now that it had been when Jaskier first stumbled upon the strange creature’s lair. He made sure to braid it back and out of the monster’s way whenever he returned to humanity.
“Jaskier,” the Beast snarled, stepping closer and reaching out his claw-tipped hands. The young bard fell against his lover’s chest and sighed. The creature buried his nose against Jaskier’s hair and breathed in deeply. “Smell good. Like fruit.”
“I am a little on the fruity side,” the bard giggled. He shivered then, and burrowed closer to the furnace that was Geralt. “It’s cold out here, love.”
“Cave, then.”
“Alright.”
The giddy bard allowed himself to be swept off his feet and carried the short distance between the clearing and Geralt’s cave, babbling all the while about his latest lessons and new compositions and look Geralt, I’ve brought you some wine and a new blanket for winter.
“You don’t have to do these things,” the Beast asserted, placing Jaskier back on his feet at the mouth of his cave/home.
“I know, but I enjoy it. There are very few people left in my life that I want to spoil, Geralt, please allow me to take out that frustration on you. There’s nobody more deserving of gifts and affection than you, my darling creature of the night.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier pulled the wine from his travel basket and allowed Geralt to pop the cork with his impressively sharp teeth. “Well done, lover mine.”
“Hmm.”
One of Geralt’s sharp claws made its way down the outside of Jaskier’s clothed thigh and the younger man shivered. “Later, darling. You’ll get what you want later; let’s have something to eat and drink first. And you can tell me all about the people you’ve frightened and the monsters you’ve dispatched from the area.”
“Hmm,” the Beast hummed yet again and reached out to pull the bard closer. Jaskier allowed himself to be folded and maneuvered safely onto Geralt’s wide lap. “Stay.”
“Well,” the young bard smiled, cuddling close to his darling wild-man. “I can’t argue with that, now, can I?”
