Warnings: none i think? its a lil ‘slice of life’ thing idk
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Triss’ face lit up as Geralt walked into the tattoo shop, arms laden with coffee and muffins, as promised.
“Oh thank fuck you’re here,” Triss sighed, snagging the largest drink out of Geralt’s tray and almost sending the whole thing crashing to the ground, “I haven’t been able to get to a single email all day. Can you distract Ciri for like an hour? Maybe two?”
Geralt set the rest of his coffee shop haul down on the counter before kissing Triss on the forehead and handing her her favorite flavor muffin, “Where did you lock the little beast?”
Taking a massive bite of the muffin, Triss pointed toward the little kitchenette/break room just as the sound of stainless steel bowls clattering to the ground burst out of the crack in the door. She just looked at Geralt with pleading eyes for a moment before taking a massive swig of coffee.
Frowning, and a little scared to see what had happened, Geralt poked his head into the kitchen, “What’s going on in here kiddo?”
Ciri was desperately trying to scoop what looked like pancake batter back into a bowl but froze as soon as she heard Geralt, staring at him as only a nine-year-old who’s been caught red-handed can, “Nothing.”
“Mhm, looks like it,” Geralt snickered, “Would you like some help with nothing?”
Sitting back on her heels, Ciri let her batter-covered hands plop onto her jeans as she nodded, giving him her biggest puppy eyes.
“I brought snacks, do you just want to clean up and eat those or do you want pancakes still?”
“Uncle bear, this isn’t food it’s homemade playdough! Kind of… I don’t think I got it right...”
Geralt could only sigh, “You’re so lucky Mum sent me in after you.”
Forty-five minutes later, they’d somehow removed all evidence of the failed craft project and Geralt had offered himself up as the walking talking coloring book as per usual.
“Hey, Geralt?” Ciri asked, coloring each feather on his Griffin tattoo a different highlighter color.
He immediately perked up at the use of his actual name but kept his tone casual, “Yeah, Kiddo?”
She took a moment to glance up at him, looking oh so much like her mother as she turned around and pretended to dip the marker she was using in an ink cap and tucked her hair behind her ear as she got back to filling in the tattoo, “Do you think I’m weird?”
He could barely keep from cracking up at the question. She was easily the weirdest kid he’d ever met, and it was only reinforced by the way she treated the marker like a tattoo machine and even wiped a paper towel over the spot she was working on. But something in the way she asked made him think that would be the wrong answer.
“Why do you ask?”
“Dara called me weird at school and some other kids laughed.”
Geralt waited for her to continue, but she just leaned a little closer to the tattoo to work on coloring the eyes bright blue so he prodded her a bit, “I thought you and Dara were friends?”
“We are, I think he meant it nicely. But why would the other kids laugh if he wasn’t being mean?”
“Ah…” Geralt nodded sagely, a move he’d perfected over the years that tricked Ciri into thinking he was far wiser than he really was, “They haven’t learned how much fun weirdos can be. I fill my life with weirdos.”
Ciri giggled, “Are you calling your family weirdos?”
“Absolutely,” Geralt confirmed, an over-exaggerated serious look on his face that made Ciri give another round of giggles.
“I’m your favorite weirdo though, right?”
“Nope” he answered, popping the p with a shit-eating grin on his face. Ciri shoved at his arm with a gasp as he continued, “You’re my second favorite.”
She capped the marker and folded her arms, looking far too much like her other mother with mock offense on her face, “Who beat me?!”
“Uncle Ask,” Geralt answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the world and making Ciri roll her eyes as she picked out another color.
“But you said he was the coolest person you knew last week?”
“Yup,” Geralt nodded, “A cool weirdo.”
Ciri shot him a suspicious glare as if she was trying to figure out a puzzle, “I think he’s just your favorite person.”
“Well, yeah. That’s why I married him.”
Making a face Ciri poked him a little extra hard with the maker she was using, another painfully Yen action, “I’m still mad I didn’t get to go to the wedding.”
Geralt couldn’t help but belly-laugh at this, “Kid you weren’t even born yet.”
“But I like weddings!”
“Well if you find a Tardis you’re welcome to go attend!”
As the conversation spiraled into stubborn nine-year-old silliness, Triss and Jaskier leaned against the door to the large open tattooing area.
Sipping his chai latte, Jaskier frowned and pointed at his husband, “Every time they hang out it seems like he turns into even more of a child.”
Triss stifled a laugh so they wouldn’t be caught watching, “I find it cute. Until she convinces him to do something stupid.”
“Like the hand-stand incident?” Jaskier asked, snickering as quietly as possible.
“What possessed him to let her do a handstand on a moving horse?!” Triss asked, both amused and baffled.
Jaskier sighed and shrugged, “He’s a himbo.”
“This himbo can hear you!” Geralt called, raising his hand behind Ciri’s back to flip them off with a grin over his shoulder.
Triss and Jaskier turned to each other with wide eyes and a guilty look before cracking up.
Guiding Triss back to the front desk, Jaskier called over his shoulder, “I love you, honey!”
Geralt raised his voice so they could hear him as they walked down the hall, “Weirdos can also be lovable assholes, Ciri.”
The last they could hear from the room as Jaskier and Triss got back to work was Ciri squealing about a swear jar in absolute delight.
I had shitty frozen pizza for dinner and felt the need to do a thing. I missed my inked up idiots, what can I say? also im two weeks from the end of my AA and angrily throwing pencils at a sketchpad bc why the fuck do i need to take art classes for my fucking degree
Warnings: lol swearing? possible second hand embarrassment? idk yall its pretty chill
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Geralt called Jaskier for the third time that night, opening with yet another apology when his new boyfriend picked up, “I’m so sorry. I just left the bar. Fucking bridal parties.”
A sweet peal of laughter rang in his ear as he fumbled with the keys to the bar, waving his fellow employees to their cars, “Geralt, I told you, it’s fine. I rescheduled the reservation. Just come over on your way home if you’re up for it.”
“I am! I’ll be twenty minutes tops.”
“I’ll start the pizza then,” Jaskier chimed.
Geralt did his best to fix his messy hair as he drove. When he parked in Jaskier’s lot he changed from his shirt that smelled of sour beer and acrid liquor to a sweatshirt that he’d made sure to spray some cologne on that morning. It passed the sniff test so he hopped out of his car and prayed he hadn’t spilled anything too horrible on his jeans or boots.
He was worried Jaskier wouldn’t hear his knock over the music practically shaking the door, but almost as soon as he stepped back and shoved his hands in his pocket it died and the door swung open.
Jaskier leaned on the doorjamb, giving Geralt an exaggerated once over, “Hey there good lookin.”
All Geralt could do was snort, a fond smile spreading on his face.
“I know, I know,” Jaskier giggled, reaching out his hand which Geralt took without thinking, “You look like you need a beer.”
“Mhm,” Geralt couldn’t help the way he melted, completely pliable for the chatterbox of a tattoo artist. He’d been smitten from the word ‘go’, but it only got worse the more time they spent together. In the last two weeks they’d spent all their free time together and it was already unimaginable to go back to the way he was living before. Jaskier set him at ease, he had such a carefree air about him that swept Geralt up and away from his day’s worries. By now in a relationship, he would usually be scrambling for a way to distance himself, but he found he was leaning in.
He only realized he’d been zoning out when Jaskier grabbed his hand and closed it around the cold bottle with an affectionate smile, “Bridal parties are that tiring?”
“Fucking exhausting,” Geralt sighed before taking a long pull from his beer, “and it was a big one.”
Jaskier pecked his cheek, “Good thing you’re all mine now.”
“Oh? What do you have planned?”
“Planned? Have you met me?”
Geralt smirked and shook his head, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist and settling his chin on his shoulder while he dug around in a kitchen drawer, “Hmmm”
-
Hours and two frozen pizzas later, they were entangled on Jaskier’s couch making comments on Wipeout that were more delirious giggles than actual opinions.
Jaskier lifted his head from where it was lying against Geralt’s chest, “Feeling better?”
Blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes, Geralt croaked out a small, “Yep. You and shitty pizza did the trick.”
The fog of impending sleep left his body immediately as he stared wide eyed down at Jaskier. For a moment he expected to be chewed out, maybe to have Jaskier scramble out of his arms to sit at the other end of the couch, but his boyfriend just raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the side.
“I mean- fuck- the- good shitty. Not fancy,” Jaskier wrinkled his nose and Geralt couldn’t tell if it was affection or annoyance, “Just a.. Uh… lazy night in. With you. And not shitty pizza. Nice… nice pizza.”
It didn’t feel satisfactory but it was all Geralt could manage as an explanation.
“Nice pizza? Like a dog?” Jaskier licked his lips and Geralt didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous before in his life.
“N-no?”
Jaskier’s mouth twitched in what could have been anger for one terrifying moment before he burst out laughing, burying his face in Geralt’s chest as he shook with giggles, “You’re so fucking cute.”
“I’m glad you think so…?” Geralt let out a hesitant laugh as Jaskier shimmied up his torso so they were eye to eye.
“I’m not insulted by your take on Great Value frozen Pepperoni Delight. If anything it’s quite endearing,” Jaskier assured him, placing a soft kiss to his lips.
Relief flooded Geralt as he kissed Jaskier back, “Mmm… Thank fuck.”
I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it
Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.
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Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid.
The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.
After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns.
This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake.
“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear.
Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”
Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared.
“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”
Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach.
When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”
“Mhm?”
Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”
Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant.
“What’s that, love?”
Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”
Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas.
Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”
Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”
A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week.
“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot.
He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home.
Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’.
And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by.
Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression.
“Feel like shit.”
Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window.
After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”
“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”
Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”
“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything.
After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”
“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.
“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”
Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”
“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.
“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh.
“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”
“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps.
Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”
Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”
Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”
One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.”
A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him.
It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him.
“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”
“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.
Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”
“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”
“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.
“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.
“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”
They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.
New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”
Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”
“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”
“Jaski-”
“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”
Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”
“Why’s that?”
“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.”
“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”
“I’d use all the words for you.”
“All of them?”
Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...”
Wifey told me Jask needs to meet Roach and fuck she was RIGHT
warnings: I... went a little horse girl on main? sorry? no triggers, just cuteness. also i was tipsy whilst writing the last half so like... im sorry if theres typos or its unreadable lol
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“I’m sorry. I just have to go check on Roach before we go to dinner,” Geralt cringed as he turned away from the restaurant Jaskier had wanted to go to.
Jaskier just put a foot on Geralt’s dash and made himself comfortable, “Oh what’s wrong with our baby?”
“Our baby?” Geralt nearly swerved into a ditch.
“I’ve seen enough pictures and heard enough stories that I happen to have grown attached. Now answer my question,” Jaskier didn’t seem phased at all. In fact, he seemed to think it was perfectly normal to just adopt your partner’s animals after three months of dating.
Geralt took a steadying breath and tried not to read into it. Jaskier said wild things all the time, he was just beginning to get used to it, “She got her teeth floated.”
Jaskier was quiet for a moment, tapping Bonnie the Blue Footed Boobie on his thigh, “I’m having some horrible image of pumping her mouth full of water until her teeth come out, please tell me what this means.”
“Horse dentist filed down the sharp bits of her teeth so she can chew better.”
“Oh! Ow!”
“Oh no, they sedate the horses. That’s why I didn’t answer last night. I- uh. Didn’t want to leave her in case she laid down and got cast.”
Jaskier shifted and peered at him over the rim of his sunglasses with a fond smirk, “Sweetheart, I don’t speak Horse Girl.”
“Cast is… cast? Getting stuck laying down? But stuck on or under something? Once Roach did it by rolling on a pile of shavings I hadn’t spread yet so she couldn’t roll back over where she had room to get up. I had to pull her back over it by her legs…” he chuckled at the memory then paused as he turned into the barn’s driveway, “I see how this sounds odd.”
Jaskier sat upright and leaned forward, mouth open in awe as he took in the stables that looked like something straight out of a high(er) budget daytime soap, “So this is why you live in a studio.”
Geralt sighed as he parked the truck in front of Roach’s barn in between the indoor arena and the massive covered wash racks, “Yup.”
Jaskier got a brief tour, or more accurately, he followed Geralt to Roach’s stall and pointed at things and asked questions the entire time. There were so many horses. He’d never seen a horse up close, except for that one mounted police officer on his trip to Canada and that wasn’t an all too fond memory. He was almost vibrating with excitement when they reached Roach’s stall.
Geralt stepped in and greeted her so softly Jaskier thought he might faint, “Hey, Ro. How’s my sweet girl?”
She pressed her forehead into the hand he held up and nickered. Geralt just laughed and scratched under the little tuft of long hair between her ears. He leaned forward to give her a kiss and whispered something in her ear that Jaskier couldn’t catch despite his best efforts.
Geralt turned back to face Jaskier, looping one of his arms over Roach’s neck and giving him a proud almost-smile, “Wanna come say hi?”
Jaskier ever so hesitantly stepped down into her stall, “She won’t step on my toes if she doesn’t like me right?”
“She might. She’s never met someone in Berks and daisy dukes,” Geralt winked as he ran his fingers through Roach’s mane.
Jaskier took a moment to register his sarcasm and flipped him off with a grin. Geralt gently gripped his wrist and manipulated his hand into a flat surface, popping a sugar cube in his palm.
“Just keep your hand flat and let her sniff you. She’s easy to win over,” Geralt’s voice was unbearably fond and Jaskier found him watching his face more than the horse reaching her nose toward his outstretched hand.
It was one of two times since he’d known Geralt that he didn’t have at least one solid worry line in his forehead. Hell, his whole body was more relaxed.
Roach took the sugar cube and explored his hand, wiggling her upper lip over his palm and wrist before snorting and shaking her head.
Jaskier yelped and jumped back, earning a confused head bob from Roach and a laugh from Geralt, “It’s okay. Something just tickled her nose.”
“She’s just so big…” Jaskier muttered, stepping forward and holding his hand out just like Geralt had shown him.
“You can pet her too.”
Jask just brushed his fingertips over the white patch on her face but she pressed into him, bobbing her head a bit to use his hand to scratch at a certain spot between her eyes.
“Oh! Hello! Does this mean she likes me?”
Geralt’s smile covered his whole face, another thing Jaskier had only seen a handful of times, “She does. You want to go for a ride?”
“Now!? In shorts?!”
“Oh no, sometime next week maybe? You’re not supposed to ride for a couple days after a float.” Geralt started running his hands over her back and belly, then her legs as if he was looking for something. He pinched right at the peak of her rump, making her flinch a little bit and swish her tail, which he seemed satisfied with. Then he pushed at her middle, just gently leaning against her and watching her feet. When nothing happened he seemed pleased and moved on to checking her water and kicking around some of the shavings and, to Jaskier’s disgust, poop.
“Darling what are you looking for?”
“Anything unusual. She looks fine though,” he draped his arms over her back, now on opposite sides from Jaskier, “Could I convince you to walk her up and down the breezeway for me?”
Was this the date night Jaskier had been expecting? No. Was it absolutely adorable and delightful to see Geralt so clearly in his element? Fuck yes. He giggled and played little games with Roach and was so gentle and patient with both Roach and Jaskier. It was, so far, the best date they’d been on, first one included. Jaskier had gotten a little peek at who Geralt was when he was truly at home.
After a brief and very goofy showmanship lesson, they strolled out of the barn with Geralt’s arm draped over Jask.
“I’m sorry. Restaurant’s probably full by now…” Geralt sighed, opening Jaskier’s door for him.
Jask hopped up on the seat and pulled Geralt to stand between his knees, “I don’t give a flying fuck about where we eat. This was lovely.”
There was a look in Geralt’s eyes that reminded Jask of a little kid being told they could play outside for one more hour, “Really? You had fun?”
“Of course, darling,” Jask mumbled as he pulled Geralt further into a kiss, “Just give me heads up next time so I can wear my boots.”
“You have cowboy boots?”
“Well they’ve got a rather high heel… but they’re still technically cowboy boots.”
Geralt leaned his head back and laughed, “I’m getting you barn boots.”
“If you insi-,” Jaskier shrugged, cut off by Geralt’s lips on his, where they stayed for several minutes.
good morning! this is so self-indulgent i truly have no excuses. it just happened. idk what to tell yall.
Warnings: its the beginning of a therapy sesh? idk if that upsets people. Geralt recognizing his illogical/anxious thinking pattern?, i mean this is IUI we’re talking tattoos, talk of past anxiety - but also improvement!, this one isn’t heavy i promise!
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“How are things?” Geralt’s therapist always started with the same question. It was comforting now, even if at first Geralt had found it annoying. He’d found everything pretty annoying back then.
“Steady,” Geralt winced as he sat down, the scabbed over tattoo on his knee stinging, “The bar manager is retiring soon and I might be in the running to take her place. I’m not sure if I’m worried or excited about it.”
“More nervous than usual if you’re flinching. Why would it be bad?”
Geralt shook his head, “New tattoo. Still tender.”
Dr. Ellis smiled and nodded, “It seems every time I see you you’ve got a new one.”
“Do you think I’m getting too many? Can you actually get addicted?” Geralt really couldn’t think of anything worse than having to tell Jaskier his therapist disapproved of… all the tattoos he got to remind himself of the things he loved. At her initial suggestion. Kind of. Even before she spoke, he was pretty sure he knew what she would say.
“Do you like them?”
“Yes.”
“Does it worry you that you’re getting so many?”
“Only that I’ll run out of room,” Geralt grinned, earning a soft smile from Dr. Ellis.
“Then I see no problem,” Geralt nodded along to her words, sinking back into the chair a bit as she continued, “What’s the newest one?”
“A wolf’s head over my knee. For my brothers and my dad.”
“Have they seen it yet?”
“No, Jask and I are going to Dad’s for dinner tomorrow though.”
She set her pencil down on her pad and her smile changed. Geralt would hesitate, but he might call it proud.
“When you got your first tattoo you were almost crying talking about what might happen if Roach colliced and you had a reminder of her. Two years later you’re getting tattoos for actual people and surprising them with it! You’ve come a long way.”
Geralt bit his lip and picked at his nails, still not entirely used to praise, but getting there, “I just realized how nice it was?”
“Getting them?”
Geralt snorted, having told her about his first date with Jaskier a long time ago, “No, having someone get one for you.”
“Oh?”
“Jask uhm… got a flower a couple months ago I said I liked- well, I actually said it was my favorite when we just started dating. I’d never really thought about flowers before but it looked nice? He- he got a bunch of them on his neck and the... permanence… it felt nice.”
“So you wanted to do that for your family?”
Geralt nodded.
“You got really close to the ‘C’ word…”
“Commitment. Yeah…”
She gave him a little time to elaborate if he wished, but moved on when he went back to picking at his nails. Even after years, words still didn’t come easy to Geralt. At least not right off the bat. But he’d get there at some point during their hour.
“How are you and Jaskier now that you’ve been living together for a while?”
Geralt rolled his eyes fondly, “Good. He bought a new couch as a ‘treat’ and we had to define what ‘treat’ actually meant. He’s a little more impulsive than I am.”
“You asked him to move in with you on a whim, didn’t you?”
“With a tattoo,” Geralt confirmed.
“Geralt from two years ago would never have done that. You being impulsive worked out.”
“It did…”
Dr. Ellis just nodded, jotting a note quickly before looking back up at him expectantly. They did this every session. Dance around the soft stuff for a bit before Geralt finally said what he’d been wanting to for two weeks.
He took a deep breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs before he glanced up at her and finally admitted it, “I’ve been thinking of proposing.”
@fontegagrilledcheese my lovely cheesey wife, i love you dearly, please accept this late birthday fic 💖💖💖
Warnings: none? alluding to sex toys but like not graphically, tattoos, bc iui
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Every step was agony. Geralt felt the burning in his lower back, especially the little bit that was covered by his jeans, but it was Jaskier’s birthday and he was determined to surprise his husband.
They were going out of town for their first anniversary so they decided to do a birthday and anniversary party all in one. While Jaskier was getting everything set up at their apartment, Geralt had been off getting a tattoo. He’d said he had to go into the bar for inventory, but really he was at Yen and Triss’ house giggling (see also: crying) and speculating on what Jaskier’s reaction would be.
A little bit of anxiety crept into his chest as he jogged up the steps to their second floor walk-up. It happened every time he got a tattoo for or because of someone else, which happened to be most of his tattoos, but this would be exceptionally bad if Jaskier didn’t like it. Geralt got it entirely because of Jaskier, to entertain Jaskier, and for Jaskier. Never in his life did he think he’d get a tramp stamp. But his husband often made him do things he previously thought only crazy people did. Hell, he was even thinking about getting his nipples pierced at Jaskier’s encouragement.
He managed to keep it a secret the entire night. Even with the way Triss and Yen were giggling and asking him not-so-sneaky questions in front of Jaskier. Geralt was shocked they’d ever been able to keep a secret in their lives.
Finally, he’d had enough liquor to override the nerves and only close friends and family were left. It was time to reveal his new tattoo.
“Jask, will you hop off the coffee table? I need to show you something,” Geralt called over the music, holding his hand out to help the life of the party off his stage.
Instead of stepping down, Jaskier simply fell into Geralt’s arms with a sigh, “Did Lambert fuck with my paints again?”
Geralt set him down, shaking his head as he tried to keep from grinning like an idiot, “Worse than that.”
“Shit did we leave that- uh-” Jaskier leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “toy out?”
“N-no?” Geralt frowned, “Unless… no. We cleaned up before I left, right?”
A hesitant nod that was in no way reassuring accompanied Jaskier’s response, “Yes. Definitely.”
“I’ll go check after this?”
“Smart,” Jask giggled, pecking Geralt’s lips with a kiss, “what is it you want to show me?”
Before Geralt could answer, or even untangle from Jaskier’s arms to turn around, Triss was squealing, “Yen! Yen! He’s gonna do it! Get your ass over here! He’s showing him!”
At that, the whole room went quiet, Eskel even turned the music down. All of Geralt’s family and their closest friends that were essentially family were staring at him expectantly and he suddenly wished he’d taken one more shot before doing this.
“I… uh… I got a tattoo.”
Jaskier rolled his eyes, “Between this morning and now? Without crying or an ice pack?”
Yen cupped her hands around her mouth to yell even though she was no more than fifteen feet away, “He definitely cried!”
With a grimace and a nod, Geralt agreed, “Thank you Yen.”
“Geralt....” Jaskier’s wide eyes had a feral sparkle to them as he whispered, “You didn’t…”
“I did,” Geralt giggled as he took a step back and turned to face away from Jaskier, “Would you like to do the honors?” He tugged at the hem of his shirt as he looked over his shoulder, unable to keep the shit eating grin off his face now that he was 50% sure Jaskier was excited.
Out of the corner of his eye, Geralt saw Jaskier drop to his knees and he was almost worried until he felt his husband lift up his shirt for a tiny peek. He squeaked and dropped Geralt’s shirt, smacking a hand to his chest as he looked around at the crowd. When Geralt turned enough to see Jaskier’s expression he thought his husband looked a bit like a kid on Christmas.
Thank fuck.
After a beat, Jaskier scrambled to get Geralt’s shirt out of the way and really look at it, “Fucking hell, I absolutely love it!”
“What is it?” Eskel asked, a shit eating grin on his face as if he knew it wasn’t going to be just another tattoo.
Jaskier answered, close to tears, still on his knees and holding Geralt’s shirt halfway up his back, “It’s the knife cat meme. It’s my favorite meme!”
Warnings: kissy-kissy-smoochy-smoochy, spicy, not quite horny, new tattoo talk, jask is big possessive
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Jaskier had given Geralt a key to his place months ago, but it was still a surprise every time his boyfriend was there when he got home. He was lounging across the couch, pressing a cold washcloth to his hip and one to his collar bone.
“Ooo! New tattoos?” Jaskier chimed as a greeting, dropping his laptop bag and jacket by the door.
“Jask, I put hooks there for a reason,” Geralt chuckled.
The artist just shrugged and lifted up one of Geralt’s legs to situate himself on the couch between his thighs, “But you’re just so enticing… I can’t focus on anything else,” he hummed.
Geralt lifted an eyebrow as if to say ‘bullshit’ but cracked a smile all the same, “So you had a good day?”
“It was fine,” he dismissively waved his hand around before laying it on Geralt’s thigh, “But what did you get?” He was practically bouncing in his seat. I didn’t matter how long he’d been around tattoos, or even doing them himself, he always got excited to see new ones. It was a rush of excitement and he had an addictive personality. Really, no one should have been surprised that this was what he chose to do with his life.
Geralt shimmied to sit up a little straighter, one of his legs still draped over Jaskier’s lap and the other behind his back, “Okay I have two things to say first.”
“For fuck’s sake, Geralt! Just let me see!”
Geralt squeezed his knees together playfully, “Patience.”
Jaskier gave him an indignant look but pointedly kept quiet.
“One,” Geralt took a deep breath and swallowed hard before he continued, looking to Jask like he might faint on the spot, “I saw a really nice apartment for a good deal a couple blocks over and thought it might be nice. For us. If… if you want to? Like, move in together?”
Jaskier blinked once, then twice, his mind running a mile a minute trying to remember if he was still month to month on his shitty one bedroom or if he’d signed for the six month again. Then he jumped to what he’d need to purge from his closet, which he’d been meaning to do anyway, and wondering if he could convince Geralt to throw away his fire hazard of a crock pot if they were sharing a kitchen. He almost forgot Geralt was waiting for a response as his mind launched full force into the fantasy he’d been keeping himself from indulging in.
He leaned up and over, placing a soft kiss on Geralt’s lips, taking in the cute little confused pout on his boyfriend’s face for just a bit longer before he answered, “I’d love to.”
Geralt grinned, “Really? You took a little while there. You sure?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Jaskier giggled, “I love you and I think I could live with you without wanting to kill you. I don’t know how you’ll live with me, though.”
Geralt gave him a quick peck on the lips, “Use the hooks.”
Jaskier rolled his eyes, plopping back between Geralt’s thighs, “Maybe. What was number two?”
“Nothing,” Geralt shrugged, “just a disclaimer in case you didn’t want to move in together before I show you these.”
He gingerly plucked the wash cloths off his tattoos and Jaskier felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Under his collar bone was a string of mint and buttercups and baby’s breath to match Jaskier’s sleeves, and on his hip opposite the swallow was one giant magnolia surrounded by buttercups and mint to match. Jaskier’s jaw was in his lap as he looked from the fresh tattoos to Geralt’s face and back.
“You- those- Did Yen- Here I thought you were terrified of commitment?!” Jaskier sputtered, shifting onto his knees to get a better look at the patterns, gripping Geralt’s hips.
“I like seeing my flowers on you..” Geralth breathed, laying his hands over Jaskier’s.
Jaskeir couldn’t take his eyes off the red and raised lines over Geralt’s hips. He only half registered his words, nodding along as he rocked forward to get a closer look at the flowers on his collarbone. Geralt rested his hand over Jaskier’s jaw, fingers splaying over the hellebore flowers on his neck. Jaskier breathed a little laugh of disbelief and placed soft kisses over the saniderm covered tattoos, the warmth of the still irritated skin almost making his lips tingle.
“Hmm… do these make you mine?” Jaskier whispered, feeling something dark and primitive swirling in his gut.
Geralt hooked a finger under his chin, leveling him with a solemn look, “I’ve always been yours.”
Jaskier’s eyes flickered down to Geralt’s lips, a growl bubbling up in his throat as he surged forward and sealed their lips together, only breaking away for a moment to mutter, “mine” before both of them were far too busy to say anything else.
I missed my Inked Up Idiots and my old bar so yall get a little self indulgent drabble for the holiday lol
warnings: unwanted advances, protective geralt, its pretty tame tho, we got some cuteness too.
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“Pounder and two buckets,” Geralt shouted over his shoulder to Jask, who promptly pulled down one tall pint glass and two shorter glasses from the shelves behind him. Jask had sat his ass in the same spot on the bar for four years in a row, washing and drying dishes for Geralt, and he wasn’t going to bread tradition this year.
Geralt had a line at least 20 people deep almost all night but the clock said 11:50, which meant it was almost next year and almost last call. Jaskier was practically giddy.
He wiggled and danced along to the music as he dried glasses and lined them up on the counter. Customers would drop their glasses behind him and he would load them up in the rack.
One decided to put a hand on his hip and slur something about ringing in the new year but only got halfway through their proposition before Geralt had pulled Jask off the counter, “Hands off.”
Jask placed his hand on his chest, “Go back to your drinks, I’m okay.”
Geralt growled and kissed him on the forehead before he turned back to his station.
The customer was already disappearing into the crowd with their tail between their legs. If anyone wasn’t intimidated by Geralt and his angry scowl and all his monster tattoos, then Jask might be worried. But his husband looked quite the formidable character, even if he was a big softie. People finally started filing through the other lines handing out little plastic champagne flutes and Geralt had a moment to sit on the dishwasher for the first time all night.
Jask came to stand between his legs and massaged his shoulders, “Tired love?”
Geralt leaned his forehead on Jaskier’s shoulder, “Hungry.”
“I could see if Eskel has started breaking down the kitchen?” Jaskier offered, moving Geralt’s slightly sweaty hair off his neck to cool him off.
Geralt’s hands wrapped around his waist, “No, the countdown will start any second.”
Jaskier laughed, “You’ve hit cuddly tired early this year.”
“You tire me out,” Geralt teased, kissing at the floral tattoo on Jaskier’s neck and leaving a little bite below his ear.
“Technically, that was your idea. Not my fault we were late.”
“It was a good idea,” Geralt chuckled, sitting up and wrapping his legs around Jaskier’s waist, “Happy New Year, J.”
The crowd started counting down as Jaskier set his hands on Geralt’s cheeks, “Happy New Year, Sweetheart.”
