Prompts! Situation 30, sentence 24 OR a combination that you've really wanted to do but haven't been asked to do yet!
I’m so sorry, but I tried to do the 30+24 and I was so uninspired, I really couldn’t do it. So I decided to just take a billion situations and sentences and mash ‘em all together. I’m not gonna list them all, cause that’d be half the post but on this post you can see the full list and for the situations, I picked 16, 23, 24, 32. For the sentences, I picked 8, 13, 19, 20, 21, 29, 35. Fuckin enjoy, I guess.
(Also thank you for giving me the choice to do whatever the hell I want.)
***
Honestly, when his best friend, Yen, had arranged a date for him with her ex, Geralt, Jaskier hadn’t been too thrilled. Well, that was, until he actually saw a picture of Geralt, and suddenly everything was forgiven. Really, he’d often doubted Yen’s taste in men, but how could he say no to a date with a hot, mysterious, silver-haired, muscular guy? And the guy did date Yennefer, so there’s no way he’s totally insufferable. Surely, even if the date doesn’t go well, it won’t be an absolute nightmare, right?
Boy, how he’d been wrong.
He hugs himself more tightly, trying to ward off the cold in just his frilly shirt, jealously eyeing up Geralt’s comfortable and warm-looking leather jacket. Surely Geralt must notice how Jaskier’s shivering, right? Surely any gentleman would offer their jacket? Apparently not Geralt - so he’s either really dense or a real arsehole, and honestly, Jaskier isn’t sure which of the two is more likely.
Geralt has barely said a word all evening, and every word he did say sounded kinda rude, really, his voice deep and strained and clipped, so much so that Jaskier had felt utterly unwanted at the table. And then, when Jaskier had offered to pay the bill, Geralt had actually let him. Who the fuck does that? Everyone knows that if one person offers to pay, the other at least tries to pretend they actually wanna pay. But no, apparently not Geralt.
Rude.
And sure, the dude walks him home, but he seems a bit impatient, shuffling his feet from time to time, and he still doesn’t fucking talk.
Except now, apparently. The exact second Jaskier feels anger flare up in him, Geralt decides to break his vow of fucking silence. Typical. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”
Not even a question. A command. Jaskier resists to roll his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, because your taste in music is awful.” It just flaps right out of his treacherous mouth, but it’s the truth. The second Geralt had told him he likes country music, Jaskier had felt the near-irresistible urge to run out of the restaurant screaming. The only reason he hadn’t, was because Geralt is so damn hot, and God, Jaskier’s really fucked, isn’t he? Because even if Geralt is rude and a bit annoying, Jaskier’s still really into him. Great.
Geralt frowns, glances at him for a second, before looking ahead again. “Hmm. They’re wrong about you, apparently.”
“Why? What are they saying?”
“Well, Yen and Triss told me you were a very nice, funny guy, but you’re really rude. And apparently also someone who wouldn’t be with someone else because of the music they like.”
Jaskier feels his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and stops walking, a finger unconsciously coming up to point at Geralt. “Okay, first of all, very rich coming from you, mister ‘I don’t fucking talk all evening and only give one-word answers’. Secondly- just... What? No, I never said that.” He thinks to what he had said, just a few seconds ago. “Okay, maybe I did actually say that, but still.”
Geralt rolls his eyes but continues walking. Jaskier frowns, lunges forward, and grabs the guy by the sleeve of his stupidly warm-looking leather jacket, forcing him back to a halt. “Nonono, don’t you dare just walk away. You’re gonna face me like a fucking man and tell me exactly what you think of me.”
Geralt narrows his eyes at him. “Fine,” he spits. “Your sense of fashion is abhorrent. You’re loud and annoying. You never shut up for five seconds to let anyone else speak. And you’re not nearly as smart as you think you are.”
Jaskier gapes at him for a hot second. “I- you... My fashion sense is fucking perfect, thank you very much, mister Sweet Home Alabama.” He gestures at the lumberjack shirt Geralt is wearing, along with his leather jacket and boots. Fucking boots?
“Well at least I’m not dressed like it’s summer in the middle of the fucking winter. You need to get a jacket.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
“I wouldn’t dare, because I know for certain that you’ve never followed any order in your entire life. It’d be useless to tell you what to do.”
“I could follow literally any order right fucking now! Try me, asshole!”
“Alright, you wanna bet? Wanna bet that you won’t do anything I fucking say? Fifty bucks.”
“Make that a hundred bucks.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
Geralt stays silent for a second, narrowing his eyes at Jaskier. “Kiss me,” he says.
Okay, what the fuck? Although, he really does want that money, and he does have to admit, he’s still very attracted to the guy. Hell, Geralt looks even hotter all riled up, to be quite honest. He sighs, before stalking forward, grabbing the guy’s face in his hands, pulling him in for a bruising kiss that’s more teeth than tongue, but steals his lungs from his chest all the same.
He pulls back. “I want that money, Geralt.”
“Fuck you,” Geralt mutters, before Jaskier pulls him in for another kiss. And sure, the guy might be a grade A arsehole, and Jaskier might be a bit of a prick himself, but he’s sure they can work out their differences. At least long enough to make it to Jaskier’s bedroom.
