#jullian alfred pankratz

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Misattribution of Arousal Theory

me?? writing a fic based on something i learned in class????? never

jk its a tradition at this point. welcome to the circus

Pairing: geraskier

CW: dislocated ankles, inaccurate medical procedure/info (idk if this is how it works but i liked the vibes), Jaskier needing a rescue, the meet cute of my dreams, if i missed something hmu

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The pop of Jaskier’s ankle dislocating almost echoed through his body. He knew that wasn’t how sound worked, and bones weren’t that kind of hollow, but the immediate signals of “oh fuck” that shot through his body seemed to amplify the sound in a way that made his stomach churn. 

He laid there on the forest floor for what felt like hours, metaphorically kicking himself for focusing more on where his phone was pointing than where his feet were going. At least that deeply ingrained need to be near his phone kept him from flinging it too far away from him as he fell. The rescue team the firefighters said they’d send in their place would be there soon at the very least. Not that he was thrilled for anyone to see him in that condition or prepared to look another adult in the eye and tell them how he’d done this to himself. 

Just as he was starting to think no one would ever show and he would have to drag himself back to his car and drive himself to the hospital on the busted ankle, he heard a distant rumbling shout. Propping himself up on his elbows, he could just barely see a bright reflective jacket through the underbrush surrounding the trail. The voice shouted again, this time close enough for Jaskier to understand his name.

Relief flooded his body and he let loose an unhinged cackle before summoning everything he had to yell, “Over here!”

Jaskier could only see the vague outline of a man through the massive ferns and maple saplings, so he wasn’t at all prepared for the Adonis that emerged from around the bend, looking down on him like a gift from a god with a sick sense of humor. He was probably Jaskier’s height, definitely wider and more muscular, something very obvious from how his black under-armor shirt clung to his pecks and biceps. The reflective jacket tied around his waist only emphasized how this man was superhero-shaped and momentarily distracted Jaskier from the most gorgeous stark white curly hair he’d ever seen. 

It was only after staring at the man’s ruggedly gorgeous face for a few seconds too long that Jaskier realized his mouth was hanging open and he had been slowly inhaling for about ten whole seconds. 

The man graciously pretended not to notice as he picked his way down the slightly washed-out and rocky path and introduced himself, “You’d better not go into shock now that someone’s here. I still need cooperation. I’m Geralt, by the way.”

Jaskier’s mouth immediately snapped shut, and he shoved himself into a seated position, wincing when his leg shifted with the movement, “No shock, still very much in pain.”

Geralt flashed him a disarming grin as he crouched down next to where he sat on the muddy ground, “Yeah? Good. Neither of us wants to wait for a stretcher. How are you with pain tolerance?”

Swallowing hard and attempting not to let the fear show on his face, Jaskier spoke as he watched Geralt slowly and gently unlaced the high-top boots he was wearing, “Uhm… depends on what it is? I got my elbow ditch tattooed, if that gives you a hint?” His voice creeping up at least an octave as Geralt removed his boot had him absolutely mortified.

Handing him the boot Geralt shifted to sit on the trail closer to Jaskier’s foot, “And how’d you deal with that? What made it easier?”

“Talking,” Jaskier blurted, starting to feel his adrenaline pick up as his eyes focused on his foot pointing in the very wrong direction for the first time since he fell. He hadn’t needed to see it to know something was severely wrong, but he didn’t know just how wrong until he registered his kneecap pointing skyward and his toes pointing toward Geralt, “I- uh. I think I just babled like stream- stream of consciousness- poor artists probably thought I was a lunatic. I got a little yelly too- Like now. Help- helped me breathe, though. And the whole vocal folds connecting to fascia and all that.”

Geralt nodded and smoothed his hand over his hair to push his flyaways out of his face, “What are you thinking about, then?”

After a moment of panicked realization he was in for yet more pain, Jaskier answered a little too honestly, “Misattribution of Arousal Theory.”

To his absolute horror, Geralt paused and raised an eyebrow before asking him what that was. 

“Its this idea- oh shit OW.” Jaskier let slip a bit of outrage on the ‘ow’, partially at himself and partially because he couldn’t believe this beautiful man had to meet him like this. 

“Its the idea…” Geralt prompted, waving Jaskier along as he picked up his heel. 

Searing pain shot up his leg, but Jaskier bared his teeth and pushed through it anyway, if only because the pretty man wanted to hear him talk, “The idea that people can mistake heightened levels of endorphins, aka arousal, for stronger EMOTIONS AND ATTRACTION- FUCK!!”

Almost before he’d screamed about it, his ankle was back in place and the pain dissipated. It was still definitely there, but he could unclench his ass and take a deep, if shaky, breath. 

“Stronger attraction, huh?” Geralt asked, sitting so he could rest his arm on his knee and giving Jaskier a smirk halfway between teasing and seductive. 

“I- I mean it works both ways,” Jaskier panted, leaning back hard on his hands and glancing back and forth between Geralt and his foot now pointing the correct direction, “Can increase disgust and rage too…”

Nodding with an expression that told Jaskier he wasn’t hiding his embarrassment nearly well enough, Geralt rifled through the pack Jaskier had failed to notice when he’d arrived and produced a water bottle, “Whatever you say, college boy.” 

Scoffing before he drained half the crinkly plastic bottle, Jaskier leaned into the joke, “I’m an expert, I promise.”

Geralt laughed as he stood up and Jaskier couldn’t help but be a little captivated when the afternoon sunlight gave him a golden halo. Offering his hand, Geralt seemed to be unable to keep the chuckle out of his voice, “When you write this into a paper, can I get a cool nickname? Maybe The Hero or Knight? Or does my name even need changing?”

Taking his hand and letting Geralt help haul him to his feet, Jaskier squeaked, “Oh, I'm far too embarrassed to write this into a paper. Your identity’s safe with me,” right before attempting to put weight on his ankle and collapsing into Geralt’s arms. Jaskier cursed his adrenaline for making his good leg weak as Geralt wrapped his arms around his torso, keeping him far closer than he needed to while supporting his weight. 

“I think I need to carry you out of here,” Geralt’s lowered, nearly whispered words held far more than professionalism would allow.

Jaskier made the mistake of looking up into his eyes and completely losing his breath. Misattribution errors or not, he didn’t really care; this man was gorgeous and cradling him oh so gently and looking at him with what he could only call a pleading bid for actual interest. 

“I think so, too,” Jaskier whispered. 

The piggy back ride to the trailhead wasn’t exactly glamorous, but Geralt made sure to make up for it later when he carried Jaskier back down the aisle at their wedding.

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geralt of rivia #jullian alfred pankratz #the witcher #the witcher fic #meet cute

[ihateyourhairandmakeuptoday]

dumb sketch

#the witcher #witcher #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #dandelion #master dandelion #buttercup #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #butcher of blaviken #geralt the witcher #julian alfred pankratz

[aminiatureworld]

A Light in the Storm

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Panic attacks, passing out

Premise: Jaskier, having just joined Geralt, is excited for new adventures. Unfortunately for him panic strikes at an inopportune moment, and his adventure, not to mention his relationship with the Witcher, is thrown into question.

Author’s Note: The ending might be a bit brusque, but I thought that going on would be a bit irrelevant to the core of the story, as well as to the development of the characters. I might release the rest of it as an epilogue, tell me if you'd like that!

If you want to know the true story this is based off, as well as if you wish to read my thanks to those who've read my most recent fanfiction before this, please read the endnote. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

Ao3 link in reblog

          If Jaskier had to decide the worst part of losing mobility in basically one’s entire body, being unable to even sit properly, much less climb or move about, was probably the worst bit of it. Lying down, hissing in pain as he propped up his elbow in a way that hurt less, because a baseline of pain was a given at this point, Jaskier lay his head back upon the pillows and wondered where it all went wrong. Not that he didn’t know, he knew the exact moment everything went wrong, and it was the first time he’d ever seen something get struck by lightning.

           He’d been about twelve at the time, and it’d been an offshoot building for one of his parents’ manors. Lightning had struck the wooden roof, and the fire torched the whole thing to ground, as well as a wing of the greater manor and about half of the gardens. The whole family as well as the servants had run outside in a panic, and it was hours before the blaze had been put out. The memory had seared into Jaskier’ss brain, as had the unfortunate side effect of panic attacks which, in the worst cases, resulted in him passing out.

           Of course such a handicap at least had the benefit of being easy enough to hide. The odd thunderstorm, though it set his heart and mind racing, usually didn’t result in something as drastic as fainting, most panic attacks didn’t. So when he’d set off with his new witcher friend, or whatever Geralt was calling them, Jaskier didn’t consider the possibility that one such attack might surface. Besides, he wasn’t a teenager anymore, surely he’d grown out of it! Unfortunately for Jaskier, hubris is not, in fact, stronger than fear.

           They’d been up in the mountains when the troubles really started. The first flashes of lightning had set the hairs on Jaskier’s neck straight up, but counting it the storm seemed a good thirty miles away, and surely it would all be okay. His tentative optimism had been destroyed pretty quickly however, and when Jaskier saw a flash of lightning, willowy and branching like an infernal tree, he knew that it was a matter of time before the panic caught up with him. “Geralt…” he called out to his companion.

           “Hmm?” Came the familiar reply. Normally Jaskier thought the Witcher’s reticence to speak was vaguely hilarious, and definitely adorable, but in that moment he felt sure that, had he also been on horse, Geralt would’ve been two seconds away from getting strangled. Gritting his teeth and attempting to keep his tone light, Jaskier pressed on.

           “I think we ought to find shelter, wait for the storm to ride itself out. The thunder must be unpleasant to witchers, no?” He looked at Geralt, who was glancing towards the storm, the storm whose growing strength seemed directly congruent to Jaskier’s panic, and silently pleaded that he’d said something of some sense, that he might be able to save his pride before he lost it forever.

           “It’s far enough, it won’t bother us. Besides,” Geralt glanced back at Jaskier, a vague smirk painted on his face, “Roach and I have both seen and heard much worse.”

           “Of course you have.” Jaskier muttered to himself, realizing that the possibility of a simple escape was simply not going to happen, and wondering if he could just willpower himself out of the situation. Surely he could tell his brain to just… not? Continuing on the mountainous trek, and flinching every time he say a flash of lightning out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier almost thought that he might be able to make it, for they were about to turn away from the highest cliffs, and thus the unobstructed view of the storm, when another flash of lightning, this one seeming must closer, hit a group of trees, which promptly burst into flames.

           “Geralt…” Jaskier gasped out, for the familiar feeling of heat was rushing to his head and the world was beginning both to fizz out of his vision, seeming mosre and more like he’d been dunked underwater.

           “Jaskier?” Geralt shifted in his saddle. Jaskier stumbled forward, almost losing his footing, his knees seeming to go out beneath him.

           “Alcohol-” He managed to make it that far before some unseen obstacle hit the tip of his boots, and, listing slightly to the side, his eyes closed and he was enveloped by heat.

           Jaskier came to, feeling quite groggy, lying on his back, his arms bent around his head. He immediately felt the return of the hot, floating feeling, and closed his eyes, waiting for the cool, open air to come back to him; only then would he be safe. Attempting to sit up after the first few cooling moments, Jaskier found he could barely do such a thing before immediately having to bend over again, as everything around him swam.

           “Jaskier!” The voice came to him belatedly. Too weak and unsure to look up Jaskier gave a short “uhm” back, assuring Geralt that Jaskier was, indeed, alive. A wineskin was shoved into his face, the pungent smell snapping a bit of the heat and static back, and Jaskier grabbed onto it, drinking deeply, despite the taste being, charitably, something akin to piss. He gasped for air after a few seconds, the confusion slowly wearing off, but the adrenaline still too prominent for him to care much about his situation, at least care any farther than the battle to keep awake, for he’d truly failed to fight it off the first time.

           “How long.” He croaked out at last, still staring down, his head in his arms. He was vaguely beginning to register the stinging pain, which surrounded his left elbow, right knee, right shoulder, and various parts of his hands.

           “Five minutes or so, eight maximum.” Jaskier sighed, but he was grateful that the man hadn’t simply rode off, leaving the poor bard to, well, Jaskier wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure what to do now, unwilling to ask how much damage this whole thing was going to do to his new relationship with his companion. For, as he was quickly becoming aware, Jaskier had just presented a most embarrassing scene, and, almost in preparation for Geralt’s inevitable scorn, embers of resentment began to flicker.

           “Sorry I inconvenienced you like this.” He knew his tone probably sounded like a whining old man, or perhaps a wchild who’d shouted for a bit too long, but everything was beginning to hurt a lot more, and Jaskier could barely find the energy to raise his head up, much less deal with such complicated things as the breakdown of a barely started acquaintance. “I’ll be fine now.” He gingerly stood up, but the panic attack was gone, as suddenly as it’d arrived, and Jaskier found that he felt perfectly fine. Ignoring Geralt’s questions and gruff assurances that they could wait, accepting only to ride on Roach for some time, Jaskier quickly had them setting off again, wanting nothing at the moment but to find someplace where he could sleep for twelve hours, and dreading nothing but what would inevitably happen after that.

           When a town had finally been found and they’d arrived at the stables, Jaskier realized that maybe he should’ve just walked. Bending his knee hurt like hell, but it was the slightest movement of his left arm that had his nerves screaming in pain. Stiffly swinging his right leg over, Jaskier fell out of the saddle, and probably would’ve hit the ground, if Geralt weren’t there to catch him.

           “You need to get a doctor.” Geralt’s voice seemed even gruffer than usual, and Jaskier fought the urge to roll his eyes.

           “What I need first and foremost is a bath, and to rebandage everything again, do you witchers not use regular herbs to fight infection? Or is it a liquid diet for you all.” Lifting himself up Jaskier gave a short “thank you” to Geralt, before walking off, or attempting to at least, his pathetic hobbling goin the speed of about 0.005 miles per hour. His pride was smarting, now that the danger of a relapse was next to none, and the stares of the townspeople hardly helped one bit. Scowling, Jaskier stared at the slight step that one needed to cross to get into the inn, but before he could screw up his courage to get his leg up he was suddenly hauled up off the ground, and straight into Geralt’s arms.

           “You need a doctor.” The Witcher reiterated, and this time Jaskier said nothing, silently admitting that Geralt did have a point, even if it was one that the bard would rather not admit. His arms both flaring, not to mention his dangling knee, every step Geralt took had Jaskier swearing in pain, and slightly worried that he tumble out of the other man’s arms. Thankfully Geralt seemed an expert in carrying wounded people, and even managed to grasp under Jaskier’s arm, to his great relief. Ignoring the stares, it wasn’t every day a quiet village saw a man with silver hair carrying another man who looked like he’d just gotten the shit beat out of him, Jaskier closed his eyes, and silently wondered how fast the Witcher was going to drop him once the danger had passed.

           The apothecary, for there were no real doctors in a place like this, made quick work, and even quicker examination of the bard, and soon Jaskier was given his promised bath, before being shuffled into a rough bed, pillows propping up his leg, left arm, and head. His hands had also been bandaged, the apothecary having asked what kind of cat Jaskier had gotten mixed up with after seeing the cuts in his fingers. It would be a while before he’d be back on his lute. It was that, more than anything else, which frustrated Jaskier, for even after his hands healed there was still the matter of his elbow, having been dislocated and badly bruised, which resulted in most movements, even bending, being impossible before and now, the apothecary having set the bones back into place, incredibly painful. Music was everything to Jaskier, and the thought of how much time he’d have to spend away from it put him in the blackest of moods.

           There was another thing that kept Jaskier from drifting off to sleep, no matter how much his body screamed at him to rest. That, of course, was the matter of Geralt. So far the Witcher hadn’t said much. He’d listened to the apothecary’s orders as to how Jaskier was to rest, before silently carrying him back to the inn, his only words being to the man behind the bar, asking for a room and hot water. After helping Jaskier strip and bathe, something the bard would never stop feeling embarrassed about, Geralt put Jaskier to bed, before walking out the door without another word. Nothing more than half an hour could’ve actually passed since then, but to Jaskier the minutes felt like hours, and enough time had passed for him to live out a variety of scenarios on how Geralt’s leaving was going to go. Jaskier at least hoped that Geralt would tell him, rather than perhaps just ditching him to ride off in search of less pathetic companions.

           Eventually Jaskier must’ve fallen asleep, for after what seemed merely like a blink of the eye the world had suddenly turned to night, and Geralt was back, with a wide variety of supplies, which crowded the table in the room. The Witcher himself was staring down at Jaskier, who attempted a small smile, one that the Witcher didn’t mirror. He looked as stone faced as ever, but he was back, and that had to count for something, right?

           “Geralt-” Jaskier began, but the Witcher shook his head, before walking over to the table and picking up something.

           “Poultice, for the cuts on your hand. It’ll bring the swelling down, and hopefully prevent infection.” He reached out his free hand, and Jaskier tentatively placed his own hand in Geralt’s palm. Unwrapping the bandages, Geralt spread out the slightly warm onto the bard’s palm, and Jaskier sighed, for despite the heat it did indeed seem to be drawing out the pain.

           “Glad you know something of herbs.” He looked to Geralt, who smirked slightly.

           “We witchers don’t solely rely on, what did you call it, a liquid diet?”

           “Well thank the gods for that!” Jaskier exclaimed emphatically, before growing serious, for if they had to part, he’d rather it’d be on his own terms. “You don’t have to stay with me Geralt. Thank you for bringing me here, for your help with the innkeeper and the herbs, and stripping me down to my braies…” he paused, hoping that his face wasn’t as red as it felt, or at least that Geralt wouldn’t take much notice of it, “but I can take care of myself now. I know you weren’t thrilled to have my company in the beginning, and that a witcher can’t very well take on a companion liable to faint at every passing storm. I cannot blame you if you leave, but I’d like you to at least give me notice, that way I’ll not expect you back.” Realizing he’d been speaking so quickly he’d forgotten to breathe Jaskier choked out the last words before a long intake of breath, followed by a sigh. He looked at the Witcher, who was staring back, brows furrowed slightly.

           “I’m not leaving you.” The words were short and brusque, and Jaskier was beginning to feel irritated. Why was the man making this harder than it already was? The last thing Jaskier needed was pity nannying.  

           “Damn it Geralt I’m bruised, not paralyzed. I’ll be perfectly fine in a day or two, and good as new in a few weeks!” Pulling his hand out of the Witcher’s his elbow grazed the mattress, and Jaskier let out a hiss of pain. Rearranging himself, Jaskier then turned back to his companion, who now was most certainly annoyed, as was evident from the frown contorting his face.

           “Last I checked perfectly fine people aren’t hurt by pillows. I’m not leaving, and that’s final.”

           “You say that now, but what about when I’m better, huh Geralt? You really expect me to think that you won’t leave the minute I can walk? There’s no point in pretending otherwise, so stop trying to act like your plans for staying go past a week!” Jaskier felt he’d probably said too much, but he’d already collapsed in front of Geralt. Whatever dignity he’d had in regards to the Witcher had definitely disappeared the moment he’d required reviving after a thunderstorm.

           “Do you think so little of me and my kind as that?” Geralt’s tone was gruff again, half incoherent by hurt, gravelly and low. “I’m going to abandon you in the middle of fucking nowhere. And I’m not going to listen to you throw accusations at me. If you want me to leave I will, but I’m not going to act out your twisted scenarios to save your pride.”

           “This has nothing to do with pride!” Jaskier burst out, though he wasn’t being entirely true, for indeed there was a part of him that smarted at the idea of Geralt knowing about how badly he reacted to storms, that resented the idea of adventures being thwarted by a single incident such as this. Geralt was evidently as unconvinced as Jaskier, and simply raised an eye. s

           Trying to find better words Jaskier sighed. His head was pounding by now, and he wanted to do nothing more than go back to sleep, for starting this conversation now seemed like a horrible idea. “I want to keep traveling with you,” he restarted, “but I don’t want either you or myself hampered by this. I joined you because you smelt of adventure, remember? I’m not about to be coddled, or for you to keep me out of pity while you secretly resent my presence. Or for you to leave me in town every time you go out. If I wanted that I would’ve stayed home.”

           “I won’t do that.” Geralt replied. “And I wouldn’t give up the Path for your fear of storms. But I also won’t simply leave you. I won’t coddle you, and I won’t abandon you. Happy?”

           “And if there’s another storm?”

           “Then I’ll load you up on liquor. Isn’t that what you were asking for before you fell?”

           “It does help.” Jaskier admitted. “But are you sure you’d be willing to jump through all those hoops? I don’t want you to resent me.”

           “I am. And I won’t.” The answers were as simple as the assurance he wasn’t going to leave, but this time Jaskier felt slightly hopeful, not to mention wildly lucky and a bit in disbelief.

           “Why?” He ventured, for he had to know, had no illusions that Geralt was the kind of man who would do this to anyone in need. Not the same man who decked Jaskier in the stomach the first time they met.

           “Because I want to.” Geralt replied, before turning towards the table, a sign that the real answer wasn’t going to be revealed anytime soon. Content with that Jaskier let his head loll back on the pillows and once again drifted off to sleep.

End note: Two days ago I passed out in a parking lot after getting vaccinated (get your shots y'all I've passed out before but am still up to date) and decided hey when life gives you lemons! Due to the unfortunate state of medicine in the Witcher universe I changed shots to lightning. Coincidentally earlier this summer a transformer (the electricity kind) was struck by lightning and two garages and a house burned down on my block. Write what you know, amiright?

My deepest thanks to the 10 people who liked/reblogged my last fanfiction. I realize it was a bit of an incoherent music rant, so I'm so glad that at least some people found it enjoyable. You guys are the best!

#based off a true story #kind of... #I passed out two days ago in a drugstore parking lot and this is the result #does this count as hurt/comfort? #tw: panic attack #cw: panic attacl #tw: passing out #cw: passing out #tw: fainting #cw: fainting #fanfiction #fanfic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher #mine #oneshot

[twinkbouttapounce]

Jaskier has “Mothman is my husband” vibes

#jaskier #jaskier witcher #julian alfred pankratz #jullian alfred pankratz #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #witcher netflix #netflix witcher #feral jaskier #monsterfucker jaskier #monsterfucker!jaskier #jaskier is a monsterfucker #brave talks

[zeebeebrown]

The Road Trip AU No-One Asked Me To Write (a working title)

Final Chapter - Completed Work - Slow Burn - 100K+ -  AO3 Link

Jaskier finally comes home from his tour only to find that there is a dashing new bartender at his local and sees no other option than to break through the man’s standoffish nature and invite himself along on his plans. You know how strangers are.

The classic tale of a meddling musician befriending a brooding bartender.

“So, where can I set up to dazzle a crowd?” “You could stay right there and dazzle me some more or there’s a stage over there. Give us a shout if you need anything. A hand setting up, shot for your nerves, my number.“ “A glass of water will do just fine, dear, us musicians need to keep our throats lubricated." “Oh, I can think of other ways to help that.“

#the final chapter! #slow burn #the witcher #witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #buttercup #jullian alfred pankratz #yennefer #Yennefer of Vengerberg #lambert #eskel #geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier au #gerlion #gerlion fic #gerlion au #the witcher fic #the witcher au #witcher fic #witcher au #ao3 #road trip au #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier

[ataraxiamfrp]

Thank you all for participating in our activity check! The characters listed here are the ones who did not pass activity check/did not submit an activity check, and who are being dropped for the period from FEBRUARY 5 - APRIL 5.

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#ataraxia activity check

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Too Quiet

I’ve been having a hard time getting the words onto the screen so I gave myself an OG ‘there was only one bed’ prompt and well- those are words

CW: geraskier, only one bed, artificial bed scarcity, two idiots pretending not to like each other

Also on AO3

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Geralt usually listened in when Jaskier charmed innkeepers on his behalf, the silver-tongued idiot often forgot whatever convincing lie got them a room and it helped if Geralt could play along later, but this crowd was too loud for Geralt to properly focus. He sighed and accepted their fate when Jaskier told him there was only one room available, but hey, at least this one had a reasonably sized bed. It looked almost big enough for two adults to sleep comfortably. 

As the two settled in for bed and the sounds of drunken good times dwindled down to murmured rumors and confessions punctuated with hiccups, Geralt expected to hear snores and people shuffling about in the rooms near them. Only it was dead quiet. Unlacing his boots, he closed his eyes and tried his best to pick up any signs of life from the nearby rooms to no avail. There were certainly fewer people downstairs than when they ate dinner, so where did they all go?

Resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes tracked Jaskier as he pondered the little puzzle he’d made for himself. Did Jaskier lie about something? Did Jaskier get caught in a lie and this was a sort of punishment? Could the bard really never hear the people in the rooms next to them at inns? What a fucking luxury. 

If Jaskier noticed he didn’t show it, humming and tapping a beat out with his fingers on any surface he was near enough as he moved about the room and got ready for bed. He very gracefully wasted time. Geralt almost admired the way he managed to look busy while doing absolutely nothing. That pill was decidedly easier to swallow than what he really admired. 

He’d held out quite a while, but more and more Geralt found himself speechless when Jaskeir looked him in the eye. The bard would smile and Geralt would feel lighter. He was getting more worried about Jaskier’s apparent lack of self-preservation by the day, and most recently, he’d felt a little bit of jealousy as he watched the bard flirt for coin. 

Jaskier finally turned to look at him with his hands on his hips, “You’re acting strange.” he huffed. 

For a moment Geralt was almost self-conscious, having been caught, but he recovered quickly enough for his pride to be spared, “It’s quiet. You said this was the last available room.”

“I thought you liked your blessed silence?” Jaskier’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head before he tugged his shirt over his head and pulled the bedding down.

Geralt made a point to deadpan until he was sure Jaskier could feel how much he didn’t like the joke in his bones before he moved on, “Normally I hear people going about their night, or snoring. It’s dead quiet.” 

A look of mild horror crossed Jaskier’s face and he hesitated before slowly and carefully crawling into bed, “C-can you really hear through walls?”

“Thin ones like this?” Geralt knocked on the wall as he swung his legs under the blankets, “Sure.” 

“That's… violating.” Jaskier decided, staring up at the ceiling with his lips pressed in a firm line and a slight blush on his cheeks. 

Geralt almost couldn’t keep the fond smile off his lips as he shuffled into a comfortable position, “I’m painfully aware.”

The silence between them seemed to go on for hours, Jaskier’s heartbeat fluctuating as he laid there stiff as a board and fiddling with the hem of the blanket. Without the normal background of nonsense noise, Jaskier’s movements and very existence were even more distracting. Geralt tried not to think too hard about the nights toward the beginning of spring where they huddled together for warmth. Of Jaskier’s arms wrapped tight around him as he pulled Geralt’s back to his chest. He always gave the excuse that Geralt was a walking furnace, but Geralt really wouldn’t need an excuse. If he could get over his pride and that nagging ridiculous fear ever-present in his mind, he would hold Jaskier even when it was warm.

“I wonder why the innkeeper would have given us this room when the others are free,” Jaskier’s voice climbed at least one octave as he lied through his teeth. 

Geralt furrowed his brow and glanced to the side, unable to completely eradicate the smirk growing on his lips, “Oh? Didn’t call me darling this time then?”

Jaskier snorted and lazily whacked Geralt in the ribs, “Not this time.”

“Y’know, if you wanted a cuddle all you had to do was ask,” Geralt teased, nudging Jaskier with his elbow and hoping if he made it sound outrageous to Jaskier he too would stop yearning for it. 

Sputtering and completely horrified, Jaskier propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Geralt, “How dare you insinuate- I have integrity- To use trickery instead of speaking one's feelings?! No bard would be so hopeless and foolish! Preposterous!”

A true frown of confusion took over Geralt’s face, his heart racing as he tried his best to keep his tone light, this was his friend damnit. Just. his. Friend.

“Did you…intentionally….?”

Jaskier’s face turned a bright shade of red seemingly in the blink of an eye, several different emotions flitting across his eyes before he flopped back to his pillow, rolling to face away from Geralt and muttering, “I hope you hear the dogs fucking tonight.”

Stewing in his confusion for a moment, Geralt only realized he’d struck some sort of chord with his bard when he heard him take a deep, shaky breath. He hadn’t meant to, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt the bard’s feelings but it didn’t quite make sense how he’d done it this time.

“Jaskier-”

“Leave it.” Jaskier’s tone set him back on his metaphorical heels. 

Geralt glared a hole in the ceiling while his little self-loathing brain did its best to put the puzzle together. If Jaskier was embarrassed over him insinuating Jaskier asked for a single bed, then that would mean Jaskier wanted to share a bed. But it wasn’t cold by any stretch of the imagination, and if it had been to save coin he would have told Geralt already. So that meant Jaskier was… embarrassed that Geralt knew…? 

“Oh.”

“Fuck, I knew you wouldn’t leave it alone.” Jaskier sounded suddenly older, far more tired than just five minutes ago. 

Several thoughts were buzzing about Geralt’s head, not the least of which being his bewilderment, but he stayed quiet. Instead, he chose to wrap his arm around Jaskier’s waist and pull him close, pressing his cheek between the bard’s shoulder blades. He felt Jaskier tense and hold his breath for a moment before Geralt placed a small kiss to his spine. 

“I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Geralt whispered, unsure of how else to express the embarrassingly giddy feeling of hope how blossoming in his chest. 

Jaskier practically deflated in his arms, heaving a deep relieved sigh before laying one hand over Geralt’s where it rested just below his sternum, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mmm… you seemed cold.”

“Well, this room is positively frigid.” 

Geralt only chuckled and pulled Jaskier closer. 

#geraskier #geraskier only one bed #the witcher #the witcher geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #geraskier canon universe #ish

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Happier Than Ever

finally listened to billie’s most recent album and i decided i needed to write about this one. or at least the aftermath of ‘jaskier would write something like this for sure’

CW: referencing toxic ex, geralt offers vandalism in support, like every best friend should, feelings confessions, jaskier swears like a sailor, i cannot see him any other way than feral after s2- sorry not sorry

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Jaskier had been waiting for one of two possible phone calls since spotify uploaded his most recent song. He’d either get a call from his ex, probably angry accusations of slander, or Yennefer ordering him out of his house for a drink. Honestly, he wasn’t sure which he was more nervous about. Instead, he got a call from Geralt.

“Hello darling, back in town?”

As per usual, his former security with a new super-secret job skipped right over the pleasantries, “What did he do?”

“Pardon?” Jaskier sat up from where he’d been anxiety-binging his old comfort show, surprised right out of the stupor he’d been in all morning.

“The song,” Geralt clarified, “When I saw you last you said you were in love. ‘I’d never treat me this shitty’ and ‘just fucking leave me alone’ doesn’t sound very in love. What did he do?”

Pausing the tv and blinking in shock, Jaskier desperately tried to play catch up, “You listened to my song?”

“And the interview for the radio- instagram…. Thing. Do I need to take a baseball bat to his car?”

“Well, yes, but my manager would kill me if I let you,” Jaskier grumbled, picking at the rips in his jeans, “I… I didn’t realize you gave a shit. Kinda thought you were avoiding me…” he trailed off with a nervous laugh. 

“I was. Jealousy is a bitch.”

Jaskier’s ears practically rang as his jaw dropped. Jealousy? As in? Geralt? Being jealous? Of his ex? He cited personal reasons for giving Jaskier his resignation and he’d thought it was something to do with his brothers… But Jealousy?

“Jask? Are you still there?” Geralt sounded nervous for the first time since Jaskier had met him.

“Fuck you,” Jaskier breathed, slowly rising in pitch as he word vomited to his phone, “I had a massive crush on you. I thought you were straight! And you-! How fucking dare you. I settled for that asshole for months why didn’t you fucking say something?”

A jarring knock had Jaskier swearing and scrambling off the couch to go see who it was, “Seriously, Geralt. What the hell?”

Opening the door, Jaskier nearly dropped his phone. Geralt stood on his porch in all his black-clad, muscley, curly-haired glory with a look that would give a wounded puppy a run for its money. They both hung up and just stared at each other for a moment, Jaskier trying to catch his breath and wishing he’d showered that morning. 

“I won't waste your time,” Geralt finally broke the silence and Jaskier remembered exactly why he’d fallen for him in the first place, “I missed you but I stayed away cause you looked happy. It was miserable.”

“That I was happy?” Jaskier was still staring at Geralt a little dumbfounded, and honestly, he was having a hard time getting past the things he’d told himself to be okay with Geralt practically ghosting him.

Geralt bit his lip shaking his head and frowning like he was having a hard time pulling his words together, “Happy with someone else. Being just your security or just your friend... fucking sucked.”

Jaskier’s mind went completely blank. He just stared at Geralt in shock and somehow managed to breathe despite the way his heart was fluttering.

“I… I’ll go. I’m sorry.” Geralt mumbled, running one hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, “Just… wanted to tell you I guess.” 

“Oh don’t you dare,” Jaskier laughed, grabbing Geralt by the lapels of his stupid sexy leather jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. They practically melted together as Geralt rested his hands on Jaskier’s hips, his fingers digging in and nearly making Jaskier swoon. 

When they finally parted, Geralt smiled, “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Only that you waited so long,” Jaskier giggled, sneaking another quick kiss, “We’ll have to make up for lost time.” 

#geraskier #geraskier getting together #the witcher #the witcher modern au #modern au #pop star jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #geralt fic #jaskier fic #geraskier fic #happier than ever #i just think jaskier would swear a lot when confronted with mutual feelings from geralt #thats all

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Okay so here's a lil' prompt for you

How about some rough foreplay between a jealous Geralt and Jaskier being all "fucking finally you dumb sack of potatoes"

my darling nonie, thank you for your patience, im sorry it took me so long to get my writing vibes back, but we're finally back in business!

Warnings: horny, lil bitey/manhandle-y but nothing past netflix canon consistent roughness, grumpy dumb geralt and jaskier doing his best to get him to use words, lol and swearing.

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“You don’t scare me, Geralt,” Jaskier huffed, leaning back against the footboard of Geralt’s bed. They’d been sitting on the floor by the fire in his room for hours now, enjoying the warmth and reveling in the rest that the last few weeks of winter provided. Geralt, of course, had been getting a little antsy, ready to pack up and go, but also reluctant. So of course he had expressed this by being a bit of an asshole.

“I don’t want you scared…” he grumbled, picking at a hangnail and feeling a little bit like an idiot. He couldn’t exactly tell Jaskier how he wanted him, and that was probably the most frustrating thing on his mind that night. No matter what, he was going to keep the bard around as long as Jaskier would suffer his foul moods and emotional illiteracy. But it hurt to have him so close but so far out of his reach and he was constantly angry with himself for continuing to want.

“Then how do you want me? Hm?” Jaskier asked, flailing his arms about, expressing nearly as much frustration as Geralt felt, “Are you looking for a fight? Someone to hold your hand? Would you like me tied up instead? For fucks sake Geralt just fucking spit it out.”

Clenching his jaw, Geralt growled as he did his best not to picture his best friend tied up and desperate for him, “No.”

Jaskier got up on his knees and shuffled a little closer to where Geralt was leaning against the opposite wall, looking something like a praying monk, “Mellitelle, Geralt. I don’t think I can get it through your thick skull that I will absolutely not run and hide or abandon you if you tell me what you’re thinking. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Especially if it’s uncomfortable.”

As Geralt tried to find a way out of the corner he’d backed himself into with words satisfactory to the bard, he made the mistake of glancing at him. Jaskier looked like a romanticized painting in the firelight. His hair glowed in an orangish warmth and the low golden tones made his blue eyes sparkle even in the fading light. It really wasn’t fair. How the hell was Geralt supposed to say anything other than what he truly wanted?

Fear. Fear of rejection, or worse, of Jaskier, thinking it was some ridiculous joke and laughing him off like that couldn’t possibly be what has Geralt so worked up. That was plenty to keep Geralt from telling him exactly what he felt and thought. So he stayed quiet.

“You absolute-” Jaskier grumbled, almost to himself before starting in on a lecture, with animated hands and everything, “Here I am, quite literally on my fucking knees asking you to tell me what’s bothering you - which appears to be about me, so I think I have a right to know- and you just fucking look at me. What the ever-loving fuck makes you think I’m shivering my ass off in this haunted keep for, not getting laid in a warm castle - or even by your brothers down the hall- for anything other than a pathetic devotion to your grumpy ass?! Are you blind? Are you really so self-loathing? Do you just not care? For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Tell me so I can make it better because I’m not allowed to make the leap here! I’m not a sorceress! I can’t just probe your mind to-”

Geralt lunged, not a single thought in his head, just a frustrated need to tell Jaskier what he meant and an inability to do so with words. ‘The first leap..’ Fuck he hoped he’d read that right. If years traveling with the bard and constantly unraveling his riddles was anything to go by, he absolutely had. But the chance of rejection still hung in the air and pushed him near the edge of tears.

His hands gripped the front of Jaskier’s chemise and yanked him closer, so he was almost hovering over Geralt, and he recklessly mashed their lips together. Jaskier had to brace himself on Geralt’s shoulder and for a moment the witcher was terrified he was being pushed away. He was about to let go and quite literally tuck tail and run when Jaskier’s other hand laced its way through the hair at the back of his neck and tilted his head for him, deepening their kiss and adding a little intent to the passion.

Geralt groaned and hauled Jaskier up with him as he clambered to his knees, only breaking the kiss out of necessity but sealing their lips together whenever he could. He’d been given permission. After years of wanting and wishing and guilt-ridden fantasy, he could finally taste what he’d been longing for and self-restraint was rather hard to come by. So he didn't bother.

He crushed Jaskier to himself, needing to know this was real, not just one of his many dreams. In turn, Jaskier hooked one leg around his hips, an awkward position for the two of them standing on their knees on the cold stone floor, but it spurred Geralt on nonetheless. He lifted one knee so the bard was practically sitting on his thigh and rose to stand, kissing and sucking dark red marks on the bard’s jawline and neck. Without a second thought, he used his momentum to slam Jaskier against the wall, trapping him against his own body. Exactly where he wanted him. The bard let loose a soft grunt on impact but dug his nails into Geralt’s back regardless.

“Sorry,” Geralt murmured before leaving a set of angry red crescent teeth marks on the bard’s exposed collar bone.

“None of that, I’m in heaven,” Jaskier gasped, rolling his hips against Geralt as he rested his head back against the wall, “Fucking finally.”

Geralt made a confused grunt, not entirely too concerned with the conversation as he worked on untucking Jaskier’s shirt, clumsily and forcefully yanking it over his head.

“You thick sack of potatoes, I’ve been flirting with you for years. Fucking claim me already,” Jaskier gasped, gripping Geralt’s hair and pulling him back to him in a punishing kiss.

If there’s one thing Geralt was good at, it was following orders. And he followed this particular order with hitherto unmatched enthusiasm, in Jaskier’s words, “going above and beyond the call of duty.”

#geraskier #geraskier getting together #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #comfy answers #jask likes it rough #i just see it in his feral blue eyes okay #today at least #tomorrow he might be a pillow princess lol

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Can’t Tell You What I Don’t Know

pairing: geraskier - halfway established?

Warnings: ooooo baybeee geralt has some issues and would benefit from a therapist, specifically: geralt being scared of thinking about the future and not having a plan for his life, no other warnings

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“Where do you see yourself in ten-fifteen years?” 

Jaskier had asked the question dreamily, as if it were supposed to be as romantic as asking what type of desert they were going to share at a restaurant. He’d cuddled up close to Geralt, laid his head on his shoulder, and stared out the rainy window, actually expecting an answer. But Geralt had nothing. He just stared at his… friend? Boyfriend? Occasional lover?

“C’mon Geralt, humor me.”

With a shrug, Geralt gave the only answer he had, “I couldn’t tell you.”

Propping his chin on Geralt’s sternum to wink at him Jaskier practically purred, “You’ve got some weird goals then? I dig it. Lay’em on me.”

“No, not like that,” Geralt frowned, cursing himself as he felt his heart start to race, “I just don’t… have plans?”

“You don’t ever want to have your own house? Kids? Career plans?” Jaskier traced the edge of Geralt’s jaw while he spoke, a layer of concern under all of it. 

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as he said it, but Geralt spoke anyway, “I mean, none of that seems even remotely possible so why bother dreaming over something I can never have?”

Jaskier seemed genuinely shocked. He sat up, propping himself so he was almost looming over Geralt and cupping his cheek in his hand.

“You are one of the smartest, hardest working, and sexiest people I know. That’s some bullshit. What happened to that ‘have my own ranch by 40’ you told Eskel?”

“I lied,” Geralt sighed, “It’s exhausting…” when Jaskier just continued staring at him he felt compelled to muddle through an explanation, “There’s a good range of bullshit that satisfies people. Generic stuff you know?”

“And you didn’t lie to me?”

“You’d know.”

Jaskier was quiet for a long moment, searching Geralt’s face for something as Geralt did his best to fight the bitter sting at the back of his throat. 

“Why don’t you think about the future?” he whispered, brushing a thumb over Geralt’s bottom lip. 

He didn’t want to tell Jaskier, wouldn’t have told anyone else, but with tears welling in his eyes he whispered his answer, “It scares me…”

And wasn’t that an understatement? Any time he’d made plans or had an idea of how he’d like his life to go it was shattered to pieces. After a certain point, he just stopped trying. Why continue opening yourself up for failure?

Wiping away the tears running into Geralt’s hairline, Jaskier looked close to crying himself as he spoke, “Oh sweetheart... but you’ve done so well! Look how far you’ve come. What about thinking about what you want? Is that less scary?”

Geralt would have laughed if Jaskier wasn’t so tenderly caressing his face and close enough to feel each other’s breath on their faces, “I don’t know what I want. I know what people want from me.”

Tears finally spilled over Jaskier’s eyes, “I want you to be happy. That’s all I’ll ever want from you.”

“Okay… I-” Geralt took a deep breath and let it out in a little defeated huff, “Yeah okay.” 

“We can figure out what you want together, yeah?” 

Geralt barely nodded before he surged up and trapped Jaskier’s lips in a kiss. It was sweet and salty and the opposite of everything Geralt had expected from their Saturday afternoon, but as they kissed he tentatively decided he wanted Jaskier in his future. 

#geraskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher ficlet #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #soft geraskier #soft geralt #dont look at me like that i had a heavy therapy session today #im not projecting i swear

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Country Club AU

i lived biiiiiiiitch 🤣 kinda, but i have more time to write now that i have my shit a little more together! here is an au i defs didn’t dream up while driving the bev cart last week 👀

Warnings: alcohol use? golf? flirting? its pretty chill

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Jaskier gets a job as a bartender  at the local country club to pay his way through Oxenfurt. He has all the charm and people skills and not the best bar skills but luckily most of the members want simple drinks.

He covers a shift as the beverage cart driver one day because Essie is sick and fucking *loves it*

Putting around the course and flirting with everyone while pouring drinks and getting a tan???? Yes please???

He is the ladies night favorite. He’s a flatterer and a gossip and they all fucking adore him. They request him for retirement parties and bridge nights and tournaments and tip him *heavily*.

Geralt is a newer member and only joined because his law firm has weekly ‘strategy meetings’ out on the course. Turns out he really likes golf and picked it up quickly so he’s out there all the fucking time.

He takes his game very seriously. Like stupid serious. They boy is so fuckin precise and competitive and he gets teased endlessly for it. 

Guy’s night usually ends with him gritting his teeth so hard Jaskier is sure his jaw would crack if he were a mere mortal.

Jaskier has been eying him for weeks but he never drinks unless someone else orders it for him, and even then he only sips to be polite so Jask has never had the excuse to chat him up.

He may be a flirt but he isn’t a nuisance

He finally gest his chance on a men’s day when Geralt is out with his work buddies.

On hole 6 Geralt fuckin *bombs* it. Full on snowman (8 strokes) on a par 3 and he’s furious. 

When Jaskier swings around at the next tee he orders two shots of fireball and Jaskier’s eyes light up

Im talking ‘yessssssss the calm one is about to go apeshit and im so fucking ready’ kind of sparkle

The next time Jaskier sees him he’s on hole 11 and much looser. His game hasn’t improved but hes having a better time and winks when Jaskier hands him his Jack and coke. 

Ohhhhhh boy Jask is absolutely fucked. He just kinda stood there absolutely stunned while Geralt walked away. 

It’s official. Geralt is his white whale. He must fluster this beautiful beautiful man if only to prove to himself that he isn’t completely weak for him. (logical? No. Fun and distracting? yes.)

He sees them one more time on his route and Geralt buys everyone a round and tells Jaskier to charge him for a shot for himself once he’s off work with another wink and the poor boy squeaks. 

Geralt doesn’t show for guy’s night the next week and Jaskier is totally not upset about it and he totally *didn’t* wear his sluttiest pair of golf shorts that made his ass look extra perky. Nope not at all. 

Essie gives him shit but gladly trades her cart shifts for his indoor shifts

When Geralt comes back he very sheepishly gets his beer and nods at Jaskier before joining his group. 

Well that just wont fucking do

Jask intentionally makes Geralt’s drink last next time the group mobs the bev cart (bc thats what golfers do my friends). The whole time he’s mixing it he’s trying to think of a way to hit on him that isn’t just ‘fuck you’re so hot’

He comes up with “Don’t be a stranger” and a wink

And it makes Geralt *blush* and Jask is so proud of himself he almost drives right into one of his buddies’ carts. (and giddy. He’s very giddy)

The next time Geralt sees him he gets everyone’s order before he jogs across the fairway so its just him hanging around the cart and Jask is trying really hard not to read into it. 

Jaskier learns Geralt’s favorite drink and makes sure he always has it on the cart

Always

Geralt starts hanging out up at the bar a little more when Jask has his inside shifts and the rest of the staff now has a bet on how long it will take them to get together.

They have a glow ball tournament (night time with glow in the dark golf and very little competitiveness) and Jaskier sluts it up as much as he can within dress code. Shorter shorts, shirt unbuttoned to just above his bellybutton, (“so they can all see the glowstick necklaces Essie. Jesus. They need to see where the drinks are”) and maybe he rolls up his sleeves while he pours drinks. 

Geralt is shook. Like shook shook. And he’s already had two drinks by the time they reach Jaskier’s stationed bar out on the course. 

Jaskier has his drink and a flirty one liner ready by the time he steps out of his cart and Geralt just blue screens

His team mates roll their eyes and quite literally shove him back towards Jask when he flees, absolutely terrified. 

Jask, desperately trying to keep his cool, asks if there's something wrong with his drink and Geralt just kinda sighs and knocks it back and goes "no I'm just a fucking coward" before he kisses him

Jaskier doesn't give him even an instant to regret it and leans the fuck in. Like. Homie goes for it. Full body pressed up against him, arms wrapped around his neck and ribs, little breathy moans, the whole nine yards. 

Geralt’s buddies start howling and whistling before they makeout so long they up the tourney.

As he’s being scruffed and pulled away Geralt puts his number in Jaskier’s phone under Grlat and Jask refuses to change it, even after they’re married.

#geraskier #geraskier headcanon #geraskier country club au #the hyperfixation rules all #what can i say #geraskier modern au #modern geraskier #the witcher #the witcher au #the witcher headcanon #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #catch me keepin an eye out for any Geralt shaped fuckers out on the course and getting my hopes up

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt

Hi, im fucking trash for the idea of Geralt being the front man for a Five Finger Death Punch type band and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. This music genre is my bread and butter and I think Geralt’s repressed but highly emotional ass would fit right in. Yes im using another Hozier song, no i dont wanna hear anything about it. I’m a basic bitch and ive made my peace with it

Warnings: i honestly have no idea, its a little horny, little emotional, but theres no actual character interaction?, its at a concert venue? idk yall.

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Jaskier was… out of his comfort zone.

It’s not that he didn’t like the grunge-metal music, he just hadn’t listened to much and he was not used to the energy. People were yelling and screaming and the opener hadn’t even come on yet. He didn’t feel unsafe, far from it. Several people had checked to see if he was okay, seeing as he was the only person in the entire arena wearing a sweater that wasn't ripped or faded to hell. It was just a far cry from the shows he was used to. 

He played folky-blues. This was nothing like his shows. 

When the lights went down the crowd was deafening, all moving as one to rush the front of the floor, not giving a single fuck about tickets. 

The openers were exciting, and Jaskier was surprised by some of the concepts and messages behind the music. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all and he found himself searching them up on Spotify to listen later. 

Then came The Witchers. 

Eskel and Lambert made their energetic entrance, followed by Aiden calmly walking to his drums and sitting as if he were walking into a college class. But Geralt was nowhere in sight. The one person Jaskier had actually come to see. 

He’d seen a video clip from a previous concert where they covered one of his songs, and he was praying they’d do it again. It was lovely in a haunting-almost-threatening way, and the expression in Geralt’s posture alone was enthralling. He had to see it live. 

But Geralt was still absent as the band started to build a song. First Aiden with the beat, then Eskel’s bass, then Lambert with a melody on his electric guitar. It built and built and built to a fever pitch, taking the crowd with it. People were already jumping and screeching. Jaskier had to stand on his seat to see the stage clearly. 

Geralt’s voice echoed through the venue, low and closer to a growl than singing, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Jaskier thought he’d been prepared, but his whole body was covered in goosebumps. He briefly wondered if this was what his friends were feeling when they listened to ASMR.

Geralt remained hidden for the whole first verse, getting the crowd even more excited than Jaskier thought possible, only for the band to go completely silent for a whole measure. When the crowd's screams reached their absolute loudest, Geralt dropped from on top of one of the jumbotrons, landing on one of the horse-sized speakers before launching into the chorus. 

Oh fuck, he was even more beautiful in person. 

He was… well he was a beast of a man. Jaskier really didn’t have another word for the way his muscles bulged and how lithe and powerful he looked springing from the speaker to join his bandmates on the main stage. His thighs filled out his black, tattered jeans and there were clear faded spots where his muscles strained the fabric too often. The thin black tank he wore did nothing but pretend the man was semi-modest. It was so tight, the only thing left up to the imagination was tan lines and the color of his nipple piercings. 

Jaskier was most entranced by his long, white, wavy hair falling past his shoulders. As the show continued and he started to sweat, a lot, it got curlier and curlier at the root. Jaskier wanted to give him a mask and some curl cream, but only after a, uhm, rough night of getting to know each other. He’d heard rumors about Geralt from hitting arenas not long after they’d left. He was quite sure they’d have a great time.

As he focused on the lyrics more and more, he was more inclined to want to wrap Geralt up in a hug and worship every part of him until he felt whole again. 

Either he’d been shown the shitty side of the genre, or The Witchers were exceptions to the rule of content. Jaskier was almost moved to tears a few different times.

Finally, about an hour into Jaskier mindlessly feasting his eyes on the front man, Geralt leapt onto another speaker and sat down, breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear. 

“You still with us?”

The unholy screech from the crowd left no doubt they were just as excited, if not more so, than when they’d arrived. 

“Good! Good..” he trailed off, chuckling as he lowered the mic to take a breath, “We’re gonna slow it down for a minute,” he leaned forward and held the mic away as Eskel shouted something up at him to which he laughed and flipped him off. 

“As I was saying, we’re gonna yearn for a minute or two and do a cover. Song by Jaskier called ‘Talk’.”

The crowd lost their shit again, various pride flags popping up throughout the stands. 

Geralt chuckled and raised his combat boot, showing off the bi flag colored treads, earning another round of screams. If this is what the grunge-metal scene was like, Jaskier had been missing out his entire life. Sure his fans were sweet and supportive and loving when he’d come out. But this was electric and feral and completely addictive.

Lambert struck the opening chord to Jaskier’s song and the crowd settled to a gentle hum, setting the tone immediately, as if they all knew exactly what was coming. 

Geralt closed his eyes as he tapped his thigh with one finger, keeping time before his rumbling baritone hit Jaskier like a freight train. 

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found…”

Jaskier could have collapsed right there. He knew he was staring like a lovesick idiot, but hell, everyone around him was too. When the chorus hit and Eskel came in with a heavy bass line he nearly fell off his chair. Geralt’s intensity raised with the addition of the backup but he didn’t move. He stayed seated, swaying slightly, with his eyes closed as he crooned out the words Jaskier had sobbed as he wrote, broken hearted and miserable. 

It was surreal. 

Sure he’d seen other covers. Sure they’d been lovely. But he wanted to listen to this and only this as he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He’d never play it again if he could only hear it one more time. 

After the last verse Lambert launched into a guitar solo while Geralt jumped off the speaker and meandered to the center of the stage to slot his mic back in it’s stand. He gripped it like a lifeline when Lambert held one last note for as long as his instrument would allow and only started singing the last chorus when it was almost silent. 

“I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we could do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you”

His expression looked hopeless and utterly desperate as he crooned out the last two lines. He let his hair fall to cover his face and Jaskier could just barely hear his panting breath over the sound system as the crowd exploded. Geralt tipped his head back and took two deep breaths before straightening up and getting on with the show but Jaskier was stuck. 

He was vaguely aware of someone taking a picture of him, but he really couldn’t care less. The fact that Geralt moved right on to a song called ‘Burn Motherfucker Burn’ didn’t matter either. 

Jaskier jumped down from his arena seat, whipping out his phone and sending the band a tweet, because apparently that’s what musicians did now?

“Record it. Please. It’s either that or sing me to sleep every night. You choose.”

He stayed for the rest of the show and walked to his car in a haze. Before he backed out of his spot he checked his phone like always and his heart nearly stopped at the two top notifications. 

One public reply: “Both? -G”

And one direct message: “If you’re still here and want to grab a drink, I’m just backstage.” 

#listen i have a lot of feelings and the feral bitch took over idk what to tell you #i have done nothing but this for the last three hours #i need to do schoolwork but this bitch needed to get out apparently #geraskier #geraskier meet cute #geraskier modern au #singer geralt #rockstart geralt #grunge-metal geralt #singer jaskier #folk singer jaskier #pop-folk singer jaskier #modern au #music modern au #geraskier music au #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia is a repressed emotional grimey mess and all the alarm bells went off in my head okay #jaskier #jaskier pankratz #jullian alfred pankratz #I might even draw this if i get my school stuff done? maybe? #i havent drawn in years #but what's gonna get me back into it if not thirst and gay fanfic?

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

hello yes anon here. prompt: geralt plays with jaskier's hair. i just came up with this idea out of no where

oh hello anon

hope you're ready to be soft

__________

When the bard first touched Geralt he was confused. That gentle touch he’d dreamed about for so long felt like lightning coursing through his bones and he barely managed not to pull away. He craved more, as uncomfortable as he was at first. 

As he grew used to it, he found himself reciprocating, even if it was just with the brush of his knuckles or bumping shoulders as they sat by the fire. 

The first time they kissed Geralt felt lightheaded. So much so that he gripped Jaskier by the shoulders to keep his balance. 

Yes, the sex almost brought him to tears, the gentleness, and unbridled affection something he’d resigned himself to a life without, but his favorite part was after. 

After the frenzy of emotion and adrenaline and him, Jaskier would lay his head on Geralt’s chest and sigh. Sometimes he traced Geralt’s scars, sometimes he drew flowers over the marks, but Geralt always ran his fingers through his songbird’s hair. 

Those fingers, so used to the harshness of his world, would rake through his soft brown hair with a reverence unmatched in any temple. He twirled the longer pieces around his index finger as Jaskier hummed a silky smooth lullaby and marveled at just how soft his lover was. How soft yet how strong. 

When he came across tangles he would gasp, usually muttering a curse-laden apology that always pulled a breathy laugh from Jaskier. The bard would assure him he was fine as he picked at the knots before running his hand through the spot again, slowly this time, to check for more. 

He began doing it elsewhere too. First, as a comforting gesture when Jaskier clung to Geralt after far too close a call that had both of them trembling. He rested his hand at the back of Jaskier’s head where it was pressed in the crook of his neck, and without thinking he threaded his fingers up his scalp, combing his hair to the side. He wasn’t sure who’s benefit it was for, as calming as it was for him, but soon they stopped shaking. 

If Jaskier sat on his lap, it didn’t matter where they were, his hands would find their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the overgrown pieces there. When the bard decided it was time for a haircut Geralt found himself almost disappointed. But the close-shaven edges were just as satisfying to gently brush his thumb over as he rested his hand at Jaskier’s back, so he couldn’t complain. 

Jaskier began laying his head in Geralt’s lap while they waited for their food to cook over the campfire. It was automatic at that point, he sometimes didn’t realize he was doing it until Jaskier hummed in content. 

It was more than just the tactile pleasantness of the action, it was how he said all he couldn’t say. The soft caress was laden with adoration and devotion he could never dream of putting into words. Of course, he tried, but nothing ever did his intentions or emotions justice. So Geralt continued running his hands through his lover’s hair, savoring the intimacy like he already missed it. 

@anxiousbard 👀 i don’t want you to miss it

#geraskier #the witcher #the witcher drabble #geraskier drabble #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #geralt playing with jaskier's hair is the end all be all soft geraskier content we need #geralt playing with jaskier's hair #geralt is a tactile and physical baby

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

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.

______________________________________

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...” 

#inked up idiots #geraskier #geraskier inked up idiots #IUI #tattoo au #geraskier tattoo au #geraskier boyfreinds #modern geraskier au #tattoo shop au #kinda #tattoo artist jaskier #weanie geralt #geraskier modern au #the witcher #the witcher geraskier #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #geralt #geralt of rivia #the witcher fic #geraskier fic #wow it feels so good to write and like post again? #i mean i wrote a good chunk of this before finals but like #it hits different when im not putting things off lol

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

i think you will like this prompt 👀❤️ geralt going to a professional cuddler (jaskier) because he's been deprived of touch for so long that it started to make him sick.

yes i'm asking you to make geralt cry again bc i love the way you do it 🤭

Did I want to make him cry? Yes. Did Jask let me? No. The bard wanted the witcher to have a nap and I had to comply. Apparently I don't make the rules even in my own writing??? I’ll make him cry soon though lol

Warnings: lmao our boy is unprofessional af, touch starvation, som big awkward, but nothing intense. 

___________________

Geralt bounced his knee as he contemplated bolting out of the waiting room. Well it wasn’t so much a waiting room as it was a seating-heavy foyer into a historic-district flat, but it served its purpose. 

He took a deep breath and tried to still his leg. He was doing this for Ciri, because she was worried, and he could at least admit to himself he hoped to be able to sleep better. 

A man about his height with wispy brown hair and a soft smile under twinkling blue eyes emerged from one of the doors, calling out his name and waving him forward. 

“Geralt? Hi, I’m Jaskier Pankratz. Pleased to meet you.” 

Geralt found it odd that he didn’t offer to shake his hand but was rather relieved. If this started off like a business transaction he might not be able to take it seriously. Jaskier quickly went over his paperwork and had him sign one last release form before he directed him to a long plush looking couch. 

Jaskier sat at one end and Geralt planted himself at the other, picking at his nails and scrambling for something to say. Anything. Even a dumb question would do at this point. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. Perfectly normal, actually.” Jaskier’s reassurance was nice, but not entirely helpful.

“Hm… okay.” 

“What are you nervous about? Or can you put a finger on it?”

Geralt took a breath and shifted a bit to face Jaskier, “I’m out of my depth.” 

Jaskier smiled, draping his arm over the back of the couch and extending one leg so his foot was hanging off the edge, “That’s alright. You don’t have to do anything you want to. We can just start by touching hands or knees. If that’s uncomfortable that’s okay. Hell we could sit back to back and pretend the other isn’t actually there.”

Geralt huffed, “My daughter would say that’s cheating.”

“She may,” Jaskier tilted his head with a soft expression, “but I have a feeling you show her a very different side of yourself.” 

“I do,” Geralt nodded, “but I’m not paying you for therapy.”

“Nor am I qualified,” Jaskier laughed. Something about the sound melted a bit of the iceberg in Geralt’s chest and he cracked a small grin. He rested his arm over the back of the couch and laid his hand next to Jaskier’s. His fingertips could brush his wrist if Geralt had the stones, which he didn’t. Jaskier just rolled his arm over, resting the back of his hand directly in Geralt’s palm. 

He was painfully aware of every cell in his arm. It felt like jello and electricity but it was nice. Really nice. 

Geralt just stared at their hands for a bit before he smiled.

Jaskier scooted closer, sliding his hand up Geralt’s arm and giving him goosebumps as he laid his hand on his shoulder, “How you doing?” 

Geralt snorted, to which Jaskier looked confused, “My daughter had a Friend’s phase. It just- Joey always hits on people with that line,” he explained. 

Jaskier blushed bright red, “Oh! No! I didn’t- I mean, you’re certainly nice to look- bollocks. I’m sorry. Not what I meant.”

It was Geralt’s turn to reassure, laughing as he did and resting his own hand over Jaskier’s shoulder, “I got what you meant. And- uh. Thank you.”

“That was extremely unprofessional. I’m sorry.” Jaskier shook his head, closing his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Better than thinking your client’s gross. Do you have that sometimes?”

“Not for a long time.” Jaskier confessed. 

They chatted like that for a while, chatted almost like they were on a date. They talked movies and old sports injuries and Geralt spent a while gushing about Ciri getting into a top Kinesiology school. As the conversation flowed Geralt shifted closer, only in increments, before Jaskier gave his hand a light tug, pulling him so Geralt was tucked under his arm. 

Jaskier continued talking like nothing had changed, like he couldn’t hear Geralt’s heart beating out of his chest. Geralt slowly tilted his head till it was resting on Jaskier’s collar bone, testing the waters. After a minute or two, when he’d relaxed into the position, Jaskier brought his arm off the back of the couch to trace lines up and down Geralt’s arm. 

It was intoxicating after so long without any kind of touch. 

Geralt’s eyes started to flutter closed and he wasn’t keeping up with the conversation as well as before. 

Jaskier brushed a hair out of his face and whispered, “Do you want to lie down?”

Because he was so tired or because he didn’t want Jaskier to let go of him until the day he died, he nodded and let himself be pulled so he was laying on top of Jaskier, using his chest as a pillow. He drifted between sleep and wakefulness for a minute or two, part of his mind absolutely baffled and outraged by his circumstances, but it had been so long since he’d felt so peacefully sleepy. 

When he woke it was to Jaskier carding his hands through his hair, “There you are. Any fun dreams?”

“Oh, shit…” he mumbled, “I have to go, don’t I?”

Jaskier rested his other hand on his shoulder, “Not yet. I wanted to wake you up slowly. I see that’s not really an option with you,” he chuckled. 

Geralt hummed and laid his head back down, “Toddlers do that to you.” 

Jaskier sat them up, not missing the opportunity to keep Geralt cradled close to him as he gently coaxed him back to the land of the living.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Geralt sighed, “My time’s up.”

“Doesn’t have to be. I’m not booked for another hour,” Jaskier hummed, placing a kiss to Geralt’s hair.

Both of them froze.

Jaskier breathed, “Oh fuck.” before launching into what was probably going to be a lengthy apology about professionalism and conduct before Geralt cut him off. 

He tilted Jaskier’s chin toward him and kissed him, not for too long, just long enough to get the frantic man to shut up, “There. Now we’re even.” 

“I- I can’t see you anymore,” Jaskier stammered. 

Geralt nodded and sat back, untangling himself from Jaskier, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m-uh- not awake yet.”

“No,” Jaskier reached for his hand, “Not like that. Do you… Would you like to go for a drink later?” 

#geraskier #geraskier cuddles #professional cuddler fic #professional cuddler jaskier #geraskier modern au #geralt is a good dad #good dad geralt #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #the witcher #the witcher fic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #we are here for some naps and a date #idk what to tell yall #it just happened

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

How To Calm Your Witcher

i am shit at titles please forgive me i know its tacky lol. the Goob Squad gave me like an ounce of positive reinforcement for purring Geralt and tbh this was v good for the wack ass day i had so this is what yall are stuck with.

Warnings: overwhelmed potion geralt, description of said overwhelming sensation, kinda anxiety attack adjacent but theres some BIG comfort, purring witcher. 

__________

Geralt marched through the halls in a huff, Jaskier keeping pace but lagging behind just a bit as they made their way to the quarters that this particularly obtuse lord had not so graciously assigned them for the duration of the hunt. Geralt had prepared for a menacing beast, potions and all, only to find some delinquents faking a mauling because they’d had too much to drink and got bored. They’d probably never drink again after the scare Geralt gave them, but the lord wasn't satisfied. Geralt assumed he never was. 

The only reason Geralt didn’t slam the door when they made it through the maze was that Jaskier was behind him. He was shaking, all that adrenaline with nowhere to go made his hands curl into tight fists and he could hear too many people. The floor above them was relatively empty but below must have been the kitchen or laundry and it was starting to drive him insane after only a few moments in the room. 

He ripped his armor off, hoping that removing the tight bands of leather keeping it in place might make him feel like he fit within his skin again. It only made him cold. 

Jaskier picked up the pieces he’d chucked  and laid them in a pile before carefully stacking logs in the ridiculously sized hearth. Geralt barely registered him hauling blankets and furs out of a chest at the foot of the bed, too distracted by the noises and every single one of his hairs shifting as he moved. It felt like he was covered in spiders and wading through water all at once. Everything was too slow and too detailed and he just wanted to charge back into the dining hall and beat the lord with his ham bone. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice couldn’t even be called a whisper; it was so faint, “Can you come light this please?”

Geralt cracked his neck as he turned and stalked over to the hearth. He didnt need to cast such a dramatic sign, but fuck he needed to do something. Jaskier was already standing back, seemingly prepared for his outburst. 

“Can you sit down so I can unlace your boots?”

Could he? For that velvet soft voice he could do anything. His boots were rather soaked too, and he could feel the beginnings of a blister forming where the new leather had yet to soften. He let Jaskier lead him to a specific pillow and settled onto it, extending his legs and glaring into the fire. The pops and hisses of bubbling sap was helping to mask the sounds from below, but it didn't feel like nearly enough. Jaskier slowly tugged off his boots, keeping his touches deliberate but soft as he replaced the waterlogged woolen socks with a warm fresh pair. Geralt wiggled his toes a bit, happy with the feeling of something soft against the tops of his toes. 

Jaskier settled in behind him and raked his fingers through Geralt’s hair, “How does this feel?”

Geralt hummed, honestly not sure of his answer, and continued to stare into the fire.

The bard quickly braided his waves off to the side, very practical compared to his usual work, and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder, “What’s too much?”

Geralt only snarled. It was a stupid question. Everything was too much. 

“Is it the noise?”

A nod.

“What about your skin?”

Geralt swallowed hard and forced his words out, “Little hairs.”

Jaskier shimmied back to lean against a heavy leather chair, pulling Geralt with him before draping blanket after blanket after blanket over them; finishing the stack with a bearskin. They were cocooned in soft, but not sticky fabric that kept all Geralt’s hair pressed to his skin and a weight that made his legs feel hollow and filled with lead. He could finally take a slow deep breath, feeling his back press into Jaskier’s stomach as his lungs expanded. 

“Better?” Jaskier breathed, placing a gentle kiss to Geralt’s temple.

He nodded, turning his head into Jaskier’s chest to breathe in his scent. 

“What else do you need, love?”

Geralt’s hands resting on Jaskier’s thighs beneath the blankets involuntarily squeezed when someone dropped what sounded like a dragon sized cauldron on the level below, “Hum for me?”

Jaskier immediately started humming one of Geralt’s favorite songs, pressing a kiss to his hair as he did. The soft rumbles of the bard’s voice and his heartbeat gave Geralt something to focus on other than the cacophony from below. As Jaskier’s voice grew gradually stronger there were gradually less and less distractions, only the pleasant, comforting sound of his lover’s voice and the gentle vibrations emanating from his chest. Geralt shifted slightly and pressed his ear to Jaskier’s sternum, sighing at the warmth of his bard’s skin against the side of his face and the loud, reassuring thrum of his heartbeat. Jaskier clasped his hands together over Geralt’s stomach and the little bit of added pressure did wonders. 

Before he knew it, his eyes were fluttering closed and there was a deep rumble accompanying the rise and fall of his chest. He stayed pleasantly pinned to his lover as they waited for the potions to leave his system, purring in accompaniment to Jaskier’s soft singing. Geralt’s purrs started to fade as he drifted closer and closer to sleep, still not entirely feeling clean, but clean enough.

“How are you feeling?” Jaskier’s whisper, coaxed him back from the edge of consciousness just before he was about to fall. 

He purred louder in response, something that always made Jaskier smile. 

“Alright, let’s get you into the bed, yeah?”

Geralt let himself be propped up on his feet while Jaskier peeled his breaches off and tucked him under the covers before laying the heavy bearskin over him yet again. 

“Jask?” Geralt’s voice was more of a croak as he lifted his head off the pillow to search for his bard, “C’m to bed.”

“Already here, love.” Jaskier shuffled over under the covers, pressing himself to Geralt’s back and tucking his thighs up under Geralt’s.

Geralt started purring again as Jaskier pressed a kiss to the base of his neck and snaked an arm around his waist, “I love you,” he sighed, making sure Jaskier could feel just how happy he was through the vibrations in his chest.

“And I you,” Jaskier hummed, giving Geralt a light squeeze, “Now sleep, darling.”

He fought sleep as long as he could, wishing he could stay in this moment forever, but eventually Geralt stopped purring and fell into a deep, restful sleep. 

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