Obsessed with sick cuddles. I love it when people have a bad cold and just long for affection and warmth. I love it when someone is sniffly and tired and feverish and cold, their body begging to be held and comforted. I love it when they lean into the touch of their caregiver/significant other with such pleading affection, they just need to be held. I love it when said caregiver holds them close and lets them rest their feverish head on their chest, whispering sweet nothings into their ear, because the poor thing just doesn’t feel good.
comforting you while you're vulnerable, running my fingers through your disheveled hair, placing a cold compress to your skin, flushed and hot to the touch, etc.
idk if you're still taking prompts, but if you are, could you do 82. Sneezing during makeout/sex for geraskier with an allergic jaskier?
Well, this prompt took my goblin brain places it has never been before, so thank you for that. 😅
Here's just very short little entirely debauched drabble for you, my friend.
Featuring: an allergic! Jaskier, Geralt with the k!ink, established Geraskier, sneezing on someone else, a little gross, mess, NSFW (but no actual s3x because I am too shy to write it!)
Geralt collars the bard after his performance, pushes him into an alcove that barely fits the two of the them but serves to keep them just out of sight of the wedding guests.
"Fuck these flowers, Geralt,” Jaskier whispers, “whatever they are! Just look at the state of me."
Geralt is looking, has been looking. Jaskier is a disaster - his eyes puffy and leaking a bit at the edges, his perfectly-combed hair askew, his nose as pink and soft as a wet cherry blossom. He looks fucking adorable, is what, and Geralt would like to devour him right now in this not-so-hidden corner like a fucking pastry but he doesn't say so. Instead he says:
"...Lilies."
Jaskier sniffles hard, rubs at his irritated nostrils with a grimace, and peers up at Geralt through fluttering lashes.
"Well, they are murdering me. Gods, do you have...hHhh!...have a handkerchief, by any chance? This is a very expensive piece of clothing that I'm..hehh!-soaking-heh! Hh! H'KTChsh!"
He hitches up, up, up in pitch and sneezes an inelegant wet burst against said doublet sleeve, into a growing dark spot on the plum silk. He's terrible at covering when he's like this and Geralt feels a hint of the spray graze the exposed skin of his neck. He suddenly longs to be rid of his itchy borrowed shirt. Instead, he un-tucks it from his pants and gestures with the hem.
"Use this," he says.
“That's my shirt, Geralt,” Jaskier whines, “I loaned it to you so you'd look present-ahh! HhH! H'KTChsh! -”
Even though he has plentiful warning – that delightful, desperate arpeggio of a build-up– he somehow manages to sneeze over his steepled hands. Geralt catches it fully in the jaw, the wash of it feathering his cheek. Geralt feels a rush of warmth from that spot to the soles of his boots.
“-Presentable,” Jaskier finishes, mournfully. “Oh, I am so sorry. I sneezed right on you, didn't I? I am a complete and utter...-”
Geralt presses into his personal space, lets his body speak of want when his mouth will not.
“Huh,” Jaskier says, after a moment.
“Huh,” Geralt confirms.
“Oooh,” Jaskier says and his slick face brightens, “Oh, oh oh. I forgot...you rather like it when I'm...when I-”
“Yes,” Geralt says, in a breath.
“Well, in that case,” Jaskier grins, “perhaps it's not your beautiful, borrowed shirt you'd like me to defile, really but, ah, you, dear, is that it then?”
Geralt hums.
The bard sniffles, loudly, purposefully.
“Luckily for you, I am very, very affli-hh-afflicted this evening, and I don't think I will stopping be any time soon,” Jaskier says, “I feel another...ahh- another already-hh! HhH!-”
Geralt surges forward and captures his trembling lips in a kiss. The momentary distraction stalls his gasping, and for a few seconds, Jaskier reacts in kind, throws his arms around the witcher's neck, melts into him with a barely audible moan.
Then- hehh..-a hitch delivered against Geralt's mouth. Jaskier pulls away, just a little, eyes pinched closed- hhh!- and Geralt grabs his face in both hands and kisses him hard again.
“Mmph...G-ger-hhalt...” he murmurs, panting, kissing, hitching, relentlessly hitching, “...let..l- hhh!-let me..please let me sn-hhH! HhH!- let mehHh! sn-sneeHH!”
Geralt releases him, and Jaskier rears his head back, giving him a glimpse of flaring nostrils, a glimmer of wetness, tears in his eyes, and then he collapses in a resounding, bone-deep – HHH'AATTCHSh! – that catches Geralt fully on the lips as it's own sort of kiss.
“hHH!AATtchsh!!”
A second sneeze barrels after the first and as Jaskier gears up for a third, Geralt takes pity and gathers him towards his shoulder.
“H'KTPCHsh!...oh...!”
“Blessings,” Geralt rumbles and feels Jaskier's little chuckle.
“Ndow I definditely ndeed to take you up on your offer...” he says with a syrupy sniffle, “I'mb a mess...”
Geralt swallows as Jaskier slides to his knees before him, looking up at him as he goes. He fingers Geralt's shirt hem, hesitating there for a moment, then he ducks his head to slowly rub his running nose over the bulge in Geralt's trousers instead. Geralt makes a cut off noise, braces both hands on the wall.
“I think...I think I hhh- have to...”
Jaskier rubs harder and Geralt nearly loses his senses entirely. The bard hitches against him, and he can't resist reaching down to tangle his fingers in his hair, to press him ever closer.
Jaskier laughs but – heh!-- a gasp interrupts him. HhH!-A third. And then-
“-H'KTSChsh!”
The sneeze is muffled by fabric but Geralt feels the dampness explode against him there and growls out a mangled “Fuck.”
“Oh, my darling,” Jaskier snuffles, with a feral grin, “Absolutely.”
His skilled fingers make quick work of the buttons on Geralt's pants.
the other night my bf was spooning me and i sneezed about 6 times spaced out and good lord. it started with “bless you” and then “bless you baby” and then moved into “aw are you okay are you getting sick?” “that was five poor baby” and then commentary on how cute my sneezes are and how he’d take care of me if i was getting sick
it of course ended with me guiding his hand between my legs
although hanahaki is irreplaceable in the yearner ecosystem, it’s neat to think abt an alien virus that similarly feeds on lovesickness but without the flowers…it’s harder to distinguish from a normal cold without the petals (and thus easier to dismiss). of course after a couple weeks, it seems like an unusually taxing one… aren’t they worse than they were a week ago? that’s odd, they should get checked up…
in ideal cases, the one who drags them to the clinic is their ‘unrequited’ love, and in the convo after they find out the nature of the ailment, it gets resolved. in unideal cases, the afflicted has to muddle through symptoms for months (or longer if they refuse to take care of themself) as the virus eats its fill and finally sleeps, sated. the afflicted can expect to feel better then but should take precautions to avoid waking it up again via interactions with or thoughts about a certain someone. but…can they help it?
Out of all the phrases to dub someone as “sick”, there is something particularly delicious about the term “unwell” or any variation of.
I’m imagining a person gently cupping the side of a sickie’s face, taking in their sweat-dappled brow, their loss of color aside from flushed cheeks and a red nose, the sheen across their eyes that tells of a mild fever potentially getting worse.
They frown as the sickie melts into their palm, and they coo out:
visible signs of illness or injury 🤝 characters who hate calling attention to themselves
grumpy team leader showing up on monday morning with their arm in a sling, coat draped awkwardly over their shoulders
young, bold up-and-coming captain desperately trying to hide a limp to avoid being benched
visible bruises hidden under a sweater that keeps riding up, or poorly covered with makeup, dodging questions as their friends get more and more concerned
medic counting on their team not paying too much attention to the slowly spreading stain underneath their field jacket and the way that their hands are shaking
reliable, steady intelligence source doesn’t get sick, and the way their voice is cracking over the radio is just a bad signal
a meeting that they have to lead in five minutes and a black eye that they’ve resigned themselves to not being able to hide
absolutely refusing to admit anything is wrong despite the poorly-muffled coughing and sniffling
fresh stitches underneath a suit or gown, shrugging off friendly hugs that land on just-closed wounds
The fact that hot toddies exist is honestly so sexy. Like, exCUSE me? A hot, comforting drink specifically designed to ease the discomfort of the common cold and chase away chills? As a real thing that actually exists in the world, not just some kind of fantasy sickfic invention? Scandalous. Downright pornographic.
sneezing and being tied up is so hot, and it's hot no matter who's tied up
like oh you cant scratch your poor itchy nose? you can't stifle or cover your sneeze? poor baby better hold it back as long as possible. you need a tissue? maybe if you're good for me.
or
you can't go anywhere, and I think I'm coming down with something, my nose is just so itchy. wouldn't it be a shame for me to sneeze all over you while you have nowhere to go?
there’s smth really soft about the phrase ‘lie back down’. like maybe they shouldn’t have gotten up in the first place. the mentioning of it by someone else, clocking how absent the other is. like, go back. get cosy again. what’re you doing out of bed? stay with me, have your tea/meds/water. good, now lie back down.
minors and ageless blogs dni // pls don’t reblog to non-kink blogs
The moment when a stoic character who's been trying so hard to hide their cold finally relents, their shoulders are slumping and they can't make eye contact as they admit in a voice that's barely above a whisper: "no, I'm actually not okay. I'm exhausted, I have a horrible cold, and I need you." 🥺🥰
it is late evening. a couple is standing by a bus stop, intimately and closely kissing. when one of them, person A, feels a stubborn tickle inside their nose. at first, it doesn't bother them that much and they smoothly rub their nose with a pressing notion against the side of person B's nose.
regrettably, the motion only triggers the itch and the sensation travels sharply through person A's nasal passages. they continue to kiss, making person A's breath hitch inside person B's mouth and person B responds eagerly, thinking that person A is only into it as much as they are.
'...i'm-' flinching slightly, person A express the word breathily, pulling back sharply.
'...what?' person B reply, puzzled and with an arm around person A's back.
'...hhhhh-ESCHkntsch!!'
the first sneeze is stifled, downwards, a faint mist meets person B's lower neck. '...ohh my-wow-I'm uh, I'mmhhh...' person A manages to say before their voice falters.
they stagger back half a step, wrist up hastily against their nose as the nostrils flares widely. their lips part with a faint quiver and their eyes are squeezed shut '... hhhh, hhhuRESCHschuu!!' the next sneeze, forceful and stronger, snaps them forward and into person B's shoulder.
