Ohhh what about geralt getting excited and infodumping and he stops himself cause no one cared before and jask is just like please go on with hearts in his eyes
Jaskier is reclined against the arm of the couch with Geralt laying back against his chest. His boyfriend’s hair is totally loose, for once, and the back of his head is resting square in the center of Jaskier’s chest.
He’s half-watching House Hunters and half-watching as Geralt digs up yet another one of his precious peach trees. “What are you doing, love?”
“Oh! I’m fixing the orchard. I tried to plant more cherries but then the rows wouldn’t line up right and it would totally ruin my aesthetic.”
“Are you still doing the gothic castle thing with the graveyard and the concrete fences?”
“No...”
“So what’s the theme this time, love?”
And Geralt goes off. He’s grinning widely as he explains the new design of his island, jogging his little character all over the place. “Look! This donkey is super flamboyant and his name is Julian! I got him just for you. He likes space stuff and sometimes he gives me good crafting recipes. I also have two horses. And an octopus. She’s really cute; her name is Marina. Over here I built you a little house. See? I put a really nice painting in it.”
“Thank you, love,” Jaskier smiles, running his hand up and down Geralt’s bicep comfortingly. “It’s perfect. I would definitely live there.”
“I’m making us our own little paradise.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
Geralt rambles for another fifteen or so minutes, exploring and explaining his design for every corner of the island. Jaskier’s eyes are fixed on the tiny screen and he comments every once and awhile so Geralt knows he’s listening. Knows he cares.
“Am I talking too much?” Geralt asks suddenly, setting down his video game.
Jaskier leans forward and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s scruffy cheek. “Never. I could listen to you talk about Animal Crossing for years.”
“Hmm. Thank you.”
“Of course! Now, what about the wishing well?”
“OH! You’re going to love this,” Geralt beams. And of course, Jaskier does.
I absolutely love your writing! It’s amazing. Thank you for blessing us with your skill. And for a prompt, jaskier gets stressed because the new song he’s working on just isn’t going as planned, Geralt has no idea of how to help his bard, but he spots some flowers, which he gives to jaskier. They turn out to be weeds, but he loves them anyway because it’s the thought that counts and how could he ever turn down such a thoughtful gift from Geralt?
“Did you know that the roots of this flower,” Jaskier says, threading the stem of a large white blossom through his long white braids, “Are actually wild carrots?”
“I didn’t.”
“Hmm,” Jaskier smiles. “Finally, something that I taught you.”
“You teach me new things all the time,” Geralt grumbles.
“Like what?”
“Like...like how to be patient when I need time to think of words to say. Like how to, uhm, take care of other people.”
“Did you bring this to me because of the song?”
“It was bothering you.”
Jaskier lets his hands rest atop the Witcher’s broad shoulders. He kneads into the muscles there and feels his darling go limp and pliant beneath him. “Thank you for thinking of me, love.”
“I...care.”
Jaskier presses a slow, lingering kiss against Geralt’s temple. “I love you.”
I have to go to work today and I don’t want to so...here’s some fluff.
wouldn’t mind comments if you have a moment :) please feed me validation
---
Geralt wakes slowly. The light of the sun is watery, filtered through the light mist in the air around them. It’s chilly but not cold; he rolls onto his back and uses the arm already around Jaskier’s waist to pull the bard on top of his chest, laid over him like a drooling, breathing blanket.
Jaskier shifts to get comfortable, his nose snuffling into the crook of Geralt’s neck on instinct, seeking out the Witcher’s incredible warmth. He sighs contently when he breathes in the familiar scents of sweat and leather. A string of half-mumbled and completely unintelligible words come slurring out of his mouth and into Geralt’s ear. The Witcher smiles and tilts his head a bit, giving his darling bard a better angle for snuggles.
There are so few opportunities to exist like this, warm and comfortable in the spring light, with the sun smiling down at them and the birds singing softly in the nearby trees. Roach grazes a few feet away, watchful as ever, and Geralt feels completely relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe weeks.
“I am weak, my love,” he murmurs against Jaskier’s slightly sweaty forehead. “But I am not wanting. Everything I want is right here. Aren’t you, my bard?”
“Hmm?” Jaskier hums. Geralt feels his eyes open, the silk-soft lashes brushing against the skin of his neck. He sits up a little until he can look at his Witcher properly. “Love?”
Geralt can’t help but press a quick kiss to his beautiful bard’s sleep-chapped lips. “Shhh, go back to dreaming, buttercup.”
“Okay.”
Geralt makes a noncommittal rumbling sound deep in his chest and Jaskier settles back down, eyes already closed. His breathing slows almost immediately and the Witcher runs one large hand up and down his back.
For your consideration, a prompt: "I thought you said you'd done this before?". Have fun :)
Jaskier gasped and winced, his breath leaving him with a whoosh. He turned and glared at the apologetic Witcher behind him, “I thought you said you’d done this before?”
“It was different with...” Geralt blushes and trails off. His eyes find the floor.
Jaskier sighs. “I know it was different with Yen. Men’s clothes are very different.”
“This part seems to be the same. I’m glad Witchers aren’t expected to keep up with high fashion.”
“I think it makes me look rather fetching.” The bard, now laced snugly into his new fitted satin doublet, smiles up at Geralt with wide and mirthful blue eyes. The Witcher’s heart skips a beat.
“You do look lovely.”
“Oh, uh...thank you, Geralt,” Jaskier blushes. He pulls a loose piece of hair back behind his ear and pauses for a moment. “Well I guess I’d better go perform, then.”
“Yeah,” Geralt breathes. His hand comes up to splay across Jaskier’s lower back, pulling him forward until their chests are nearly touching. The bard doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t make a sound. Just looks up with those wide, heart melting eyes and waits. The Witcher brings his lips down and presses them against the bard’s. It’s only a moment, a fleeting touch of skin-on-skin, but it’s enough to send Jaskier’s heart galloping in his chest. When Geralt pulls away at last he smiles. “I guess you should.”
Kiss asks you say? 😏 I am not saying that Jaskier is dumb enough to be caught in a snare and hung upside down from a tree... But I am saying that if he did that, it would be a very good opportunity for a Spider-Man kiss.
Alright, you win Spideranon. :) Been saving these.
---
Geralt can barely contain the smile that threatens to break across his face when he finds Jaskier hanging upside down by the ankles from a very well-set snare. “I don’t think this is what they were hoping to catch.”
“Shut up and get me down from here you smug bastard,” Jaskier huffs. The Witcher taps his finger against his chin as if contemplating his next set of actions. “G-Geralt?”
“Hmm. Maybe I won’t let you down just yet.”
“But all the blood is rushing to my head and it’s making me dizzy.”
Jaskier is just about at Geralt’s height where he’s hanging, his lips are well within kissing range. The Witcher steps forward and steadies the gently swaying bard by cradling the back of his head with both hands. Those blue eyes look up at him curiously before Geralt presses their lips together.
---
It’s odd, being kissed like this.
Not unpleasant, certainly.
Definitely not unpleasant, because it’s Geralt and he loves kissing Geralt more than anything else in the world (besides maybe resting his tired head on a glorious pair of Witcher tits) but it’s odd.
The way Geralt’s mouth seems to mold mostly around Jaskier’s bottom lip. The way his Witcher’s sharp teeth worry the skin in new and different places when he bites down a little. The way he feels almost like he’s floating as it happens.
“Geralt, please,” he whispers. “I’m very dizzy.”
He doesn’t mention out loud that only half of the dizziness was actually from being upside down.
I wanted to finish up the night with some fluff so @thecomfortofoldstorries came through with: Geralt is the one receiving affection (little spoon)
so without further ado...
---
Geralt’s head is resting on the bard’s chest and the rest of his body has found a way to tangle around Jaskier like a clinging vine. One of the bard’s arms is wrapped around the Witcher’s shoulders while the other moves in a steady, soothing rhythm against the Witcher’s scarred back. Up and down. Up and down.
The same pattern of movements and breathing until the White Wolf is purring against his side.
“Give me your butt,” Jaskier urges, pulling his arm free and shaking some of the feeling back into it. Geralt obliges, spinning onto his side so that he’s facing away from Jaskier. “Thank you, love.”
He scoots closer, pressing the planes of his slight and slender frame against the strong, taut lines of Geralt’s much firmer physique.
“Would you like it it I were bigger?” Jaskier asks. “Stronger, I mean. Like you are.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love you this way,” Geralt’s fingers intertwine with Jaskier’s where it rests atop the Witcher’s stomach. “I love you the way you’ve always been. Like a willow tree. Strong and adaptable; you bend so far before you’re ever tempted to break.”
Jaskier tears up and buries his face in the loose, silver hair hanging across the back of Geralt’s neck. “Oh, my love.”
“Shh,” the Witcher’s hand squeezes his again. “Go to sleep.”
“Sweet dreams,” Jaskier says. He presses a series of soft, damp kisses to the skin of Geralt’s neck and shoulders. The Witcher shudders and presses back, getting himself as close as possible to the bard’s comforting, natural warm. He is the embodiment of feeling at home. Geralt hopes never to part from it. “I love you, Geralt.”
My dearly beloved Braincell Bae. Do you have any stoner Geraskier content whirling around up in that brain of yours? - Sincerely, A Dumbass Who Loves Your Stoner Jask
Anything for you, darlin’! This just an extra special Catmint fic where they both have a lil bit lol. Lots of snuggling and smooching.
tw: weed, getting high
---
Jaskier rolled the strange smelling leaves into a tight bundle and twisted the end closed. It resembled the cigars or hand-rolled cigarettes that nobles sometimes carried in silver cases in their pockets but the scent was far sweeter and stranger.
“What’s that?”
“Hmm?” Jaskier hummed, looking up. His lips were pursed in concentration and his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth slightly. Geralt suppressed a blush at how cute the bard looked like that.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve never gotten high before?” Jaskier giggled. “Aren’t you older than my grandparents?”
“No. I’m probably the same age,” Geralt frowned. The bard giggled again and lit the strange rolled bundle with a stick from the fire. He inhaled, held it for a few beats, and blew out a stream of thick blue smoke. His blue eyes watered and he sighed, his stiff shoulders visibly relaxing.
“Here,” Jaskier passed it to him. “Breathe in, hold for a second or two, and then breathe out.”
Geralt followed the bard’s instructions and found himself floating lightly within his own body, a comfortable buzz settled at the back of his skull.
“How you do feel?”
“Good.”
“Alright,” the bard smiled gently and puffed half the strange herb down before offering it to the Witcher again. “If there’s no monsters in the immediate vicinity, you should have some more.”
“We’re safe,” Geralt nodded, accepting it. “What is this stuff?”
“Weed.”
“From the side of the road!?”
“No, it’s - “ Jaskier paused to chuckle and shake his head “ - it’s called cannabis and it’s good for relaxing. Like Catmint but much stronger.”
---
Fifteen minutes later, Geralt was spread out on his bedroll staring at the sky and Jaskier was laid out next to him, giggling quietly every once and awhile. “What’s so funny?” the Witcher asked.
“Just thinking about your butt,” Jaskier mused. “It’s a very nice butt, Geralt, really. You should hire someone to do a sketch and then sell erotic pamphlets when your Witchering business is slow.”
“What the fuck?” Geralt laughed. He would have been upset by such an absurd statement on an ordinary day, who would want to see a Witcher’s naked ass? but this experience wasn’t ordinary in the slightest. Jaskier’s warmth was so close and so tempting and he wanted to curl around the bard and...
“Are you purring, my sweet Witcher?” Jaskier asked, shooting up into a sitting position. Geralt stopped immediately and buried his face in his hands. The bards hands landed on his shoulders and started to shake him, “Don’t stop, Geralt, it was so cute!”
“Cute?” the Witcher asked from between his fingers. It was nearly a squeak (a manly squeak) and Jaskier fawned over his companion openly.
“You’re absolutely adorable,” the bard insisted. He gazed down at Geralt with wide, adoring blue eyes. “I’m going to follow you to the ends of the earth.”
Geralt sat up and leaned back against the log they’d been using as a chair. He gathered Jaskier into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around the bard’s slender waist. He’d never noticed before just how well they fit together. Jaskier’s head could rest comfortably on his shoulder either standing or sitting. He could reach the bard’s lips from any position with relative ease.
It was almost like they were made for each other.
“Jaskier,” the Witcher murmured into the skin behind the bard’s ear. “I’d really like to kiss you, if you don’t mind.”
“I would be overjoyed,” Jaskier replied. His racing heartbeat only proved his eagerness to the curious Witcher, whose hand had moved to cup Jaskier’s face, seemingly of its own accord.
The bard settled the weight of his head into Geralt’s palm and closed his eyes, tilting his chin until their lips were nearly touching. Geralt did the rest, leaning down and connecting them together in a moment of quiet, gentle happiness.
He started purring again automatically and Jaskier’s joy permeated the air in thick, heavy waves. Geralt kissed him again, more passionately, his free hand gripping at the bard’s slender hip. When he pulled away for breath he let their foreheads rest together. “Gods, you’re so pretty.”
“As are you, my handsome Witcher.”
“Hmmm. Another?”
“Yes,” the bard sighed, leaning back and gazing up at the sky. “Another. And remind me to send my flower guy a thank-you note.”
for the prompt list! could you do jaskier singing geralt a lullaby and playing with his hair to comfort him after a nightmare or bad day or something? i love your writing it always makes me so happy, and i hope you have a great night! :)
Jaskier leaned back against the wall of the cave and cushioned Geralt’s head in his lap. He started weaving his fingers in and out of the Witcher’s long, moon-white hair. “Bad day?”
“Alderman didn’t want to pay the agreed price. Said it took too long. Only took a day.”
“Hmm. I’m sorry, love. People are awful.”
“You’re...you’re not awful,” Geralt mumbled. “Maybe you could sing for me?”
“Alright,” Jaskier smiled. He let his hands weave dainty, interlocking braids through Geralt’s hair as he sang. The words echoed softly inside the cavern and bounced back to him as if he were singing a round with himself.
Before long, the Witcher lay asleep his lap, breathing softly and looking peaceful. Jaskier placed a delicate kiss to the crown of his head and closed his own eyes, ready for sleep.
