hiya bouncey!!! i love you and i appreciate everything you do for us!!!!!!!! i have never sent a prompt to you before and i dont know if you are still taking but you kniw that post you reblogged about Geralt being high on painkillers and wanting jaskier? can I have some more of whatever that is? pretty please? i am absolutely in love with the idea. thank you 🥺
So I’m guessing this prompt was based on this lovely post by @darkverrmin (whose blog is a treat).
I’d be happy to give everyone some post-fight, sleepy grabby-hands Geralt, high off his ass and desperate for snuggles.
tw: catmint, high Geralt in a soft way, very soft content
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Geralt whined from beneath the thin covers of their rented bed and Jaskier darted to his side, hands outstretched and ready to hunt down the cause of Geralt’s discomfort. Ready annihilate it.
“Where- Julek, where?” the feverish witcher rasped. The bard settled at his companion’s bedside and let his cool hand cradle Geralt’s stubbled cheek.
“I’m here, dear heart. What hurts?”
“Everything,” Geralt whined again, more quietly. Geralt was often impatient and prone to growling or snarling to get his way, but this complaint was plaintive, verging on childlike. The witcher looked up at him and outright pouted, “Give me the tincture, please?”
“As you wish,” Jaskier hurried to comply. He mixed a fair amount of the healer’s prescribed herbal concoction into a mug of ale and passed it to his witcher, who drained it in a single long gulp. “Will that break the fever? I thought you and your brothers couldn’t get sick.”
“I’m not sick, Jaskier,” Geralt replied, eyes already losing their focused edge. “I’m... poisoned...”
“It seems as though you’ll survive,” the bard joked, trying to lighten his own mood as much as Geralt’s. “Then we’ll be back on the road, I suppose?”
“Hmm.”
“Should I leave you be, or do you want some company for the night? The floor here is rather comfortable and I could slee-”
“Julek,” Geralt interrupted. His pupils couldn’t seem to stay one size for very long and his gaze drifted across the features of Jaskier’s face without pause, drinking the younger man in like a fine piece of art. His voice was steady despite the delirium clearly clouding his thoughts: “Julek, you’re so pretty in the light of the fire. Like a fairy prince.”
“Geralt!” the bard leapt to his feet. “You’re out of your head again! I’ll-”
A quiet giggle interrupted his panic and Jaskier cut himself off. He stared down in shock as his stoic, grumpy witcher raised his arms from beneath the blanket and made grabby-hands at him. The gesture was accompanied by a high pitched, whiny “Hmm?”
“Do you need to be held, love?”
“Need you,” Geralt implored. Jaskier could not deny his witcher anything. He slid across the mattress and allowed Geralt to bury his snowy head in the crease of his hip, his heavy breaths warm against Jaskier’s waist. Two enormous arms closed around him as Geralt buried his face even further in the heat of Jaskier’s body. “My bard.”
A slow, steady rumble started up from the center of the witcher’s chest and the bard’s eyes widened. “Are you... purring?”
“Hmm.” An affirmative.
“Are you happy?”
“Hmm.” Another affirmative.
“Even though you’re poisoned?” he clarified.
“You’re close,” Geralt murmured. “Like that. Like you. Love... Love you, Julek. Jaskier.”
The words were disjointed and the statement was full of awkward pauses, but Jaskier smiled nonetheless. “I love you too, Geralt. Now get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake, I swear it.”
“Hmm. Good. My bard.”
“Yes, indeed. Your bard.”
“My darling.”
Jaskier’s heart stuttered in his chest and he whispered, his hands slowly working out the knots in Geralt’s silvery hair. “Yes, love. All yours.”
