Hey Bouncey!
For a prompt, what about geraksier in whatever setting, they’re JUST FRIENDS OK, until one of them starts to get jealous and then realises OH. Oh no. And then some sort of confession and they get together?
ILY 😘💕🦐
This!
This...
This cannot be happening.
Geralt is a Witcher! He’s a strong, emotionally unavailable, incredibly stoic monster-slayer with an empty black void where his heart should be; or at least that’s what he’d thought before this gorgeous blue-eyed idiot came traipsing into his life all full of love and sunshine and happiness and shit.
Forcing Geralt to confront his toxic traits and overcome them.
Telling Geralt how sweet and kind and caring he is, reminding the grumpy Witcher how often he tends to get involved in things and how to work through those things more carefully, treating Geralt like an actual person and not just a machine made for killing...
It’s absolutely gods-damned infuriating!
And now, watching the bard flirt rather badly with a handsome stable hand from across the tavern, Geralt feels his not-so-calloused heart seize and burn and throb. His palms begin to sweat as his fists clench and his face heats; he’s jealous. He’s jealous of this nameless backwater village boy who will probably not make it past fifty years of age.
Geralt is jealous of him because Jaskier is twirling a lock of his ruddy auburn hair around one lute-calloused finger and smiling at him. A smile that Geralt covets. A smile that Geralt desires.
He growls and hides his face in his mug of beer. He won’t let it show. Won’t let the world see that Witchers can be broken down and cracked open and hurt.
Not Geralt of Rivia.
But then Jaskier shoots him that look. The one with the wide, curious eyes and the little pink tongue that darks out to wet his plush lips and...
Geralt is suddenly standing. Suddenly striding across the hay-strewn wooden floor to Jaskier’s side.
Oh fuck.
That thing, the thing that Geralt knew could not be happening?
It’s happening.
