#modern Geraskier

[its-bread-bitch]

Modern Geraskier would be Jaskier in the sluttiest, most colorful fashion forward outfits imaginable, serving cunt 24/7 and Geralt in one hoodie/t shirt that’s falling apart and only gets washed once a month. Geralt is not serving cunt. He’s giving 1AM Walmart depression run with ‘tism rizz that only and VIOLENTLY affects Jaskier.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

I request Geraskier and 17. Tucking their hands beneath the other person’s shirt, just to watch them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin, please?

words!!!!! I found words!!!!! i love the prompt! it got my cute words going again and for that I thank you!

CW: none i think? its very slice of life-y and they just kiss a little?

______________________

Jaskier carefully crept in the backdoor, and for a moment Geralt indulged him, letting his husband think he hadn’t noticed over the music and sounds of him preparing for dinner. When the door finally clicked closed and Jaskier let out a hefty sigh of relief, Geralt couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“Hiding from the little monsters?”

Closing the curtain over the door window, Jaskier moved to stand next to Geralt and rest his head on his shoulder, “We avoided a full heat meltdown with a waterfight. I think they’re just spraying the mud out of each other’s hair now. Hopefully Cerys brought a change of clothes.”

“Grade A parenting,” Geralt teased with a little chuckle, turning to wrap his arms around Jaskier and kiss the tip of his nose, “Do you think they’ll live if you stay in here with me?”

A pleased hum rumbled deep in Jaskier’s chest as he not-so-subtly eyed Geralt’s lips, mumbling, “For a few minutes at least,” before tipping forward and trapping Geralt in a kiss. Geralt hummed and pulled him closer by his belt loops, reveling in the warmth of his body in the chilly air conditioined kitchen and the way something so familiar could still be so satisfying. 

As Jaskier’s hands gripped his waist, Geralt snuck one hand up the back of his shirt and cupped his neck with the other, only remembering after Jaskier’s squeaky gasp that he’d been digging around in ice only moments before. 

“Sorry,” Geralt laughed, moving his hands to fabric protected spots only to have Jasier grab them and move them back. 

“Don’t you dare. I’m positively melting.” To prove his point Jaskier swooned into Geralt’s embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing their lips together. 

Unfortunately for them, Geralt’s hands eventually warmed up and there came the dreaded sound of two seven year olds banging on the back door and demanding Jaskier come play.

“Jaskier isn’t here right now! He’s gone on a tightrope walking expedition!” Jaskier called in his best imitation of Geralt.

Ciri’s cackling laughter almost made it easier for Geralt to let Jaskier go as she yelled through the door, “I’m not dumb thats you!” 

Almost.

Geralt continued pressing little kisses to Jaskier’s lips as he yelled back utter nonsense, “You- who? I-” he was cut off by Geralt again and couldn’t help but giggle, “I dont- know- a You.”

“Jaskieeeerrr!” 

Their tone made it clear they’d get destructive soon if he didn’t go outside again and Geralt reluctantly let Jaskier go. He watched them through the window as he finished making dinner, chuckling to himself when Jaskier had the kids jump on the trampoline and try to avoid the spray from the hose. At some point he got a little bit distracted by Jaskier’s ass in those shorts and by the time he realized it, Jaskier had too. Geralt gave him a little wink and got one in return, only to have the kids groan in disgust. 

As he set the table, Geralt smiled to himself, his life was pretty damn perfect.

[beth--b]

Rest my head against your shoulder

Jaskier shuffled his way out of the bedroom he shared with Geralt and into the lounge room. He set the kettle to boil and then made his way over to the lounge and practically collapsed onto it, burying his face into the cushions and groaning.

Geralt was on a hunt, because of course he was, and Jaskier had woken up feeling like hot garbage. His chest was tight and he couldn’t breathe through his nose, a headache pounding behind his eyes.

He wished that Geralt were home, even if he couldn’t do anything to alleviate his misery other than cuddle him. Though the witcher’s warmth would be more than welcome, the chill that had settled in his bones during the night hadn’t gone away no matter how many blankets he burrowed under.

He heard the kettle finish boiling and groaned again. Getting up felt like far too much hard work. Though the tea would feel glorious on his scratchy throat.

He finally heaved himself upright and shuffled back to the kitchen, slowly making himself a cup of tea with extra honey to try to soothe his sore throat, and maybe help warm him up at least for a little while.

Read it on ao3 here

Tea made, he shuffled back to bed, setting the tea on the bedside table and pulling out his phone. He scrolled aimlessly through various social media apps before sending a message to Geralt, telling him to stay safe on the hunt and let him know when he was on the way back.

Geralt had left late the night before after getting a call from Eskel about a contract that sounded fairly urgent. Jaskier had not felt quite so rotten at that point, simply feeling a little stuffy he had headed to bed early, he had woken briefly when Geralt had come to let him know he was leaving and then promptly passed back out, only to wake around 3am feeling absolutely awful. He had contemplated letting Geralt know his stuffy nose had turned into something much more, but he didn’t want to bother him on the hunt. Eskel wouldn’t have called Geralt to come with him at 11 at night if he wasn’t needed.

Sipping at his tea Jaskier tried to read on his phone but quickly gave that up when he was unable to concentrate, instead settling for aimless scrolling.

When his tea was finished he burrowed back beneath the covers and closed his eyes, letting himself give into the temptation to sleep.

**********

Jaskier wasn’t sure what woke him up, eyes still heavy with sleep and body exhausted he became aware of his surroundings slowly.

Judging but the shadows in the room he’d been asleep for several hours, his chest was sore and he could tell he’d been coughing in his sleep.

Maybe that was what woke him. He sighed and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep where he didn’t have to feel quite so shitty.

He frowned to himself as he finally took note of just how hard he seemed to be working just to breathe while laying down in bed. He sat up, hoping the change would help him to get his breath back but only felt sick and dizzy at the movement. His breathing was shallow and he could hear himself wheezing. He was starting to think he might need to visit a doctor after all, maybe this wasn’t just a cold.

He pushed the blankets off, shivering a little at the loss of warmth, and swung around to the side of the bed, planting his feet on the floor and standing shakily. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he noted that his chest was tighter than before, his breaths coming out in a harsh gasping wheeze.

“Fuck,” he gasped out, hand to his chest.

By this point he was fairly confident he shouldn’t, and couldn’t drive himself to get help.

He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table and gave up on standing up when he began to feel lightheaded.

Unlocking his phone he paused at Geralt’s name before deciding there was no use worrying him when he couldn’t help. He stopped at Lambert instead and hit the call button. He only hoped that Lambert hadn’t been roped into the hunt as well.

After several rings Jaskier was ready to hang up and try someone else when the call was answered.

“What’s up Jaskier?” came Lambert’s voice.

Jaskier sighed heavily with relief before trying to speak.

“Hey Lam,” he gasped out, having to pause for breath. “I think - I think I need some help.”

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” Lambert asked, sounding much more alert. Jaskier could hear the sound of keys and a door opening and closing. “You at home?”

Jaskier tried to answer but had to stop short as he began to cough. Finally the fit passed, leaving him gasping and almost in tears

“Ye-yeah, home,” he finally managed.

“I’ll be there in a few. Just hold tight alright.”

The call ended just as Jaskier heard the engine to Lambert’s truck start up. He leaned back against the pillow, propping himself up and focused on trying to breathe as evenly as he could. He quickly found that shallow breathing, while not ideal, at least stopped the worst of the coughing fits from overtaking him. He lay there feeling dizzy and like there was something sitting on his chest, waiting for Lambert to arrive. The youngest of the wolf witchers had a key, he’d let himself in if he found the door locked. Knowing this he closed his eyes and waited.

Jaskier drifted somewhere between awake and asleep, he was aware that his chest hurt, he knew he wasn’t breathing right but he was so tired.

“Jaskier?” he was roused from his half asleep state by the sound of someone calling his name.

“In the-” he paused to get his breath back, “bedroom.”

Lambert was there moments later, looking Jaskier over before helping him to sit up.

“Alright, we’re going to the hospital,” he was already getting Jaskier his dressing gown off the end of the bed, followed by his worn converse.

It took longer than it should have to get Jaskier into his shoes and out the door to Lambert’s truck, taking frequent pauses so he could cough or catch his breath.

It wasn’t a long drive to the hospital but Jaskier was starting to think he’d need to tell Geralt. Seemingly reading his mind Lambert spoke up as they approached the hospital.

“Have you spoken to Geralt? Or send him a text if talking is too hard?”

Jaskier looked out the window, shaking his head.

“Don’t want to…worry him,” he eventually said, before breaking out into a fresh coughing fit.

Lambert glanced at him, concern evident in his creased brow, before nodding and focusing back on the road.

They arrived at the hospital shortly after, Lambert parking across from the entrance to emergency. He helped Jaskier out of the car, letting the blue-eyed musician lean on him as they walked across to the emergency department.

Lambert led Jaskier to reception, explaining quickly what he knew, Jaskier interjecting more details about how he’d been feeling unwell all day before waking from a nap struggling to breathe.

They had hardly sat down in the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room before Jaskier was called to triage by a nurse. Lambert helped him over before returning to wait.

More questions were asked, Jaskier answering as best he could before he was given a spacer with more puffs of ventolin than he could count.

Rather than being sent back to the waiting room the nurse led him to a chair where he was poked and prodded at, cannula inserted, blood drawn and then monitored by the nurses.

Lambert had been left in the waiting room and finally when the nurse was satisfied and he had been taken through to a bed the nurse went and called the youngest wolf through.

“How you doing Jaskier,” Lambert asked quietly, taking a seat beside the bed.

Jaskier, who was currently hooked up to a machine to monitor his oxygen level, arm held awkwardly on the bed with wires coming off his finger and a cannula in the crook of his elbow, quirked an eyebrow at the red head.

Lambert let out a low chuckle and nodded his head. “Alright dumb question. Next question though, any idea what’s going on? Do I need to get in touch with Geralt and tell him to get his pasty ass here?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“No, don’t call him. They just want to monitor me for a few hours I think. They mentioned a chest x-ray and maybe some antibiotics. Hopefully I’ll get to go home in a few hours though.”

Jaskier stopped to catch his breath, he was no longer gasping and struggling to get enough air but he was still getting breathless after speaking a few sentences.

“We’ll see what happens. I don’t want to leave you alone with Geralt gone while you’re sick like this Jaskier,” Lambert said, eyes flicking from Jaskier’s face to the monitor.

Jaskier just leaned back onto the bed with a sigh, focusing on breathing as deeply as he could manage without triggering another coughing fit.

Two hours after they arrived at the hospital Jaskier got a message from Geralt to say he and Eskel were on their way back and were about three hours away.

“Geralt’s coming home Lambert. You can stop your mother henning about me being alone at home,” he got out before stopping to focus on his breathing once more.

Before Lambert could reply the nurse came over to check the readings on the monitor and gave him a dose of medication to help open his airways. The meds were followed by a kind looking doctor coming towards them.

“Hi I’m Doctor Sharma, what brings you in tonight Mr Pankratz?”

Jaskier sat up as much as he could before running the doctor through the events of the day, finally ending with their trip to the hospital.

The doctor nodded along, asking a few more questions and listening to his chest.

“Alright, well we will get a chest x-ray but you don’t sound too bad now. Did the ventolin help?” she asked, putting the stethoscope back around her neck.

Jaskier brushed his hair away from his eyes and nodded slowly.

“I don't feel…quite normal. Better than I was though.”

The doctor seemed to accept that answer as she moved onto a few more questions before finally telling him she’d be back after the x-ray.

Jaskier had just sat back on the bed when a young man came to lead him through to x-ray, telling Lambert he needed to stay behind and wait.

Jaskier followed the young man, who introduced himself as Matt, through to x-ray. Thankfully it didn’t take long and Jaskier was back with Lambert within fifteen minutes.

The nurses came to do their obs and he was plied with more ventolin.

Jaskier lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes, he was so fucking tired, his head hurt, his chest hurt. He just wanted Geralt but he knew his boyfriend was still another hour away at least.

Jaskier startled when a hand was pressed against his leg and he opened his eyes to see Lambert leaning forward in the chair, hand pressed heavily to Jaskier’s blanketed knee.

“How are you holding up there Jaskier? After the doc comes back we’re calling Geralt regardless of whether you are heading home or not. No arguments.”

“I do feel better than before. I just want to go home and sleep,” he answered, exhaustion clear in his voice as he stifled a yawn before breaking out into another coughing fit.

Lambert squeezed his knee before withdrawing his hand and they sat in silence once more.

It was another half an hour before the doctor reappeared and Jaskier just prayed to Melitele that he could go home to his own bed. It was nearing midnight by this stage and he knew he’d never sleep well if he had to stay overnight.

“So the good news is your chest is clear, I’m going to send you home with antibiotics and some steroids to help your airways open up over the next few days. You can expect to feel tired for a few days and you will need to follow up with your regular doctor within the next 48 hours,” she explained with a small smile. “You can get some rest in your own bed tonight Mr Pankratz. The nurse will be by soon to get you sorted and then you are free to leave. If you feel worse again or breathing becomes difficult please don’t hesitate to come back in.”

She nodded to Lambert and then took her leave heading over to the next patient.

“Alright then Buttercup, let’s get the fuck out of here as soon as the nurse sees you. I’m gonna go call Geralt and move the car closer, and then we can get you home and into your own bed,” Lambert stood up and headed outside, phone already to his ear as he called his brother.

Jaskier didn’t have to wait long before the nurse came to remove the cannula from his arm and handed him his discharge papers. Jaskier got up from the bed and slowly shuffled his way back to the main entrance, finding Lambert waiting for him at the door. Lambert wrapped an arm around Jaskier and led him over to the black pick up truck parked just near the doors.

Once he had Jaskier situated, Lambert went around to the drivers side and got in, starting the engine before he started to talk.

“So I called Geralt. He’s worried about you, obviously, but I told him you were doing alright and we were heading back to your place. He and Eskel should be back in about half an hour so I’ll wait with you until they get there.”

Jaskier knew there would be no arguing with Lambert so he simply agreed and settled in for the drive home.

They made it back to Geralt and Jaskier’s place quickly, hardly any cars on the road so late at night.

Lambert helped him out of the car and led Jaskier up to the door, taking the keys from him and opening up the door.

Jaskier felt a wave or relief wash over him upon being back home. No more harsh hospital lighting, no antiseptic smell, no nurses coming to check on him constantly. Geralt would be home soon, and though he was sure to mother hen him, Jaskier couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

He went to collapse onto the couch but Lambert stopped him with a hand on his arm, motioning towards the bedroom instead.

Jaskier rolled his eyes but changed direction to head up the hall to the bedroom, gratefully collapsing face first onto the bed when he made it. He heard Lambert chuckle from the doorway and sat up with a groan.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m sick don’t you know,” he said with a tired grin. Jaskier took off his dressing gown and leaned forward enough to untie his shoes before taking them off and throwing them into a corner of the room to be dealt with later.

“Need anything?” Lambert asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Water? Otherwise I think I’m fine for now.”

“One water coming up,” Lambert said, turning and heading back down the hall towards the kitchen.

Jaskier heard the tap running and then Lambert's footsteps approaching once more. He gratefully took the glass of water when it was handed to him, taking a few small sips and then placing it on the bedside table where his abandoned mug from earlier that day still sat.

He had just placed the glass down when both men heard the front door opening once more.

“Jaskier?” came Geralt’s deep voice, calling from the front entrance.

“Bedroom,” Lambert answered before Jaskier could even attempt to call out.

Geralt was there moments later and Lambert retreated to the living room.

The white haired witcher knelt beside the bed, his clothes still dirty from the hunt. Geralt reached out and took Jaskier’s hand, threading their fingers together before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.

“You were at the hospital, why didn’t you call me?”

Jaskier just shrugged before quietly answering. “I didn’t want to worry you…Didn’t want to distract you. Can’t have you getting hurt on me.”

Geralt frowned at the way Jaskier had to keep pausing to catch his breath before addressing his words. “Jask, I understand why you didn’t tell me but you should have let me know what was going on as soon as you heard we were on our way back. Please don’t leave me in the dark if anything like this happens again.”

“Ok, I’m sorry my dear, I’m just happy you’re home,” Jaskier stopped and tried to stifle a cough before giving up and letting it loose, his chest aching with the motion.

Geralt for his part just rubbed Jaskier’s back until the fit had passed. Once it was over he moved to sit beside the brunette on the bed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, Jaskier gratefully sagged against him, closing his eyes.

“Want me to go kick my brothers out?” Geralt asked after a few moments.

Jaskier nodded then paused and shook his head.

“Is that a yes or a no Jask?”

“Yes they can go, but first can I see them?”

“Of course,” Geralt answered, standing back up and leaving the room to get Lambert and Eskel.

Moments later Eskel appeared in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Hey Jaskier, how are you doing now? Feeling any better than earlier?” Eskel asked softly.

Jaskier gave him a tired smile and nodded, “Better than earlier, yes. Thank you for staying to check in on me. I think I’m just going to try and sleep.”

“Of course, let me know if you need anything in the next few days so Geralt can stay here with you.”

“Thank you Eskel.”

At that Eskel moved closer and wrapped Jaskier in a brief hug.

“Take care of yourself, and let Geralt help you.”

Jaskier laughed and nodded in agreement.

Eskel moved away and left the room, calling for Lambert to go in.

Lambert traded places with Eskel in the bedroom and sat beside Jaskier on the bed.

“Hey, what did you need Buttercup?”

“Nothing Lambert. Just wanted to say thanks. I- I don’t know what I’d have done without you today.”

Looking a little uncomfortable at Jaskier’s gratitude the redhead just shrugged and ducked his head down.

“Was nothing. You’d do the same for me. Just rest up ya hear?”

Before Jaskier could respond Lambert stood and strode out of the room.

Alone again Jaskier shuffled back fully onto the bed and lay down, closing his eyes and listening to the muffled sounds of Geralt saying goodbye to the other wolves and the front door opening and closing.

Jaskier was half asleep when he heard Geralt come in and tell him he was going to shower before coming to bed, Jaskier mumbled an incoherent reply and gave into the pull of sleep.

Sometime later Jaskier woke up as Geralt pulled the covers back and climbed into bed beside him. It was dark in the room and Geralt was a welcome presence in the bed after the last 24 hours. Jaskier rolled over and snuggled into Geralt’s chest, relishing the warmth that he was giving off as well as the comfort he offered when he wrapped an arm around Jaskier.

Soft kisses were pressed into Jaskier’s hair and Geralt tightened his hold for a moment.

“Need anything Jask?” Geralt asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“Just you,” Jaskier answered sleepily.

Morning would come soon enough and with it more doctors and medication and hopefully, a lot of rest until he felt back to his usual self again. For now he was content not to think of anything and just rest here, Geralt beside him, letting himself feel safe and loved.

[dear-galileo]

you spin me right around

modern au!geraskier, written for the @thepassifloradiscord fic and art swap!

8.5k words, mature

read on ao3

“I am going to learn magic,” Jaskier declared into his phone. Triss, on the other end, made a noise of surprise. 

“Really? What brought this on? Oh, I can recommend you to one of my professors-”

“I am going to learn magic, and curse Valdo fucking Marx so that whenever he goes to sing, his dick gets smaller.”

“Is that his middle name?” Triss asked. Jaskier paused, already lost in a conversation that he had started. “Fucking? Valdo Fucking Marx? I can’t tell if his parents had great confidence in him, or simply hated him.”

“I’ve made the word cuck in my phone autocorrect to Valdo.” 

“I can’t imagine how often you text the word cuck.” 

“No, but it’s quicker to type that than Valdo Fucking Marx.” Jaskier said easily. Triss laughed, before composing herself. 

“Why are you cursing him? Or should I say, what did he do today?” 

“He’s into painting .” Jaskier revealed dramatically. He was currently walking through one of the many courtyards of Oxenfurt University. Having spent the past two years at this school studying music previously had granted Jaskier zero shame regarding freshmen overhearing his phone conversations. Let them be entertained, lord knows they need it. 

“He’s-” Triss hesitated on the other side of the phone. He could imagine her sitting at her desk in her dorm, twirling a pencil in one hand, her phone in the other. “He’s into painting? Isn’t that a good thing, since he would drop out of your music classes?”

“No.” Jaskier corrected. “He’s into painting alongside his music- he’s making art to represent his songs.” Triss hummed, and Jaskier could tell from the tone that she wasn’t getting the full picture. “Not only has he stolen three of my songs from freshman year and mangled them with his bloody fucking [__], but he’s making toddler-level finger paintings based off of them.” 

“I might need photographic evidence of these.” Triss said. 

“Already sent one to you. It looked like he shat himself on top of a canvas and called it art. I couldn’t bear to stand around and listen to his lecture on what it represented, so I got out when I could.” 

Triss’s laughter echoed through the phone as she checked the photo. “Dear Gods,” she said, putting the phone back to her ear. “That is truly terrible. But how is this magic worthy?” 

“He’s trying to one up me! I bet you he overheard that I am going for that internship at the record studio, and is trying to beat me out.”

“How would bad artwork help him in that case?” 

Jaskier threw up one of his arms, even though Triss couldn’t see him. A freshman with an overloaded backpack stared at him as she walked by. 

“Fucked if I know! But I refuse to let this slide by, I’ve got to do something.” Triss groaned. 

“No, every time you say you’ve got to do something, you end up doing something ridiculous that very much does not need to be done,” she complained. “And half the time you drag me into it.” 

“How many times must I apologize for setting you up on that fake date with him? I didn’t know he was going to spend the entire two hours at the movie talking.”

“You can stop apologizing when I can smell movie theater popcorn without cringing. He tried to hand feed me popcorn , Jask, that’s not something that one could easily forget. He has sweaty hands.”

“Which is why you were never sent on another spy mission- in fact, I gave up the spy missions sophomore year. That’s growth!” 

“If I didn’t know how much you genuinely hated this man, I would say just fuck him and get it over with,” Triss said with a barely suppressed sigh. This was a discussion that they have had before. 

“Getting back to the point-”

“Oh, goody, there’s a point,” Triss said dryly. Jaskier gasped loudly into the phone, just to get his feelings of betrayal across. 

“Rude! You are spending too much time with Yen. She’s a bad influence.” 

“I actually think that she would help you with the penis shrinking spell, if you gave her a good enough reason to.” 

Jaskier considered this for a moment, but Yen still scared him, even after half a year of her dating Triss, his best friend. 

“No, okay. I have to find another medium, and be better at it than Valdo is.”

“You are going to make shitty paintings?” Triss asked. There was movement on her side of the phone. “Oh- Yen’s here, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Is he complaining about that greasy fuck again?” Yen’s voice distantly said. 

“Yes! He is!” Jaskier called. Yen’s scoff could have been a general one, or because of Jaskier talking about himself in the third person, it was too hard to tell through the phone. “Listen, so I can’t get into painting, a, because that’s too obvious, I would be blatantly stealing his idea, and b, that’s stupid.” 

“I doubt Valdo owns the market to making paintings based off of songs,” Triss started to say. 

“Hush, my lovely beautiful friend,” Jaskier cut her off. “I was going to try wood carving, but then I remembered the last time I held a knife in the kitchen, I managed to nearly chop off my entire hand, so that’s out. That means ice sculptures are out as well. Perhaps sandcastles?”

“We live nowhere near a beach.” Triss reminded him. Jaskier cursed, scowling. He was on his way across campus, back to his car to get to work, so he didn’t have the time to run back to his apartment to scavenge through his closet of abandoned crafts.

“I have an idea,” Yennefer said, suddenly very close to the phone. “Pottery.”

“Like the art of weed?” Jaskier asked, before remembering he was speaking to a very powerful mage who could create a portal to him to smack him, if she so wanted. Thankfully, Yen chose to ignore the joke. 

“Sculpting with clay. I have an old friend who runs a pottery studio in town. They do open house nights every week, where people can try to make their own pieces.” 

“It’s not a castle made out of fine sediment, but that might still do the trick.” Jaskier declared. “Triss, please kiss your lovely girlfriend for me as a thank you.”

“Please do not give me a kiss from Jaskier,” Yen said to Triss. “Is your problem solved? May I spend time with Triss now?” 

Jaskier made kissy noises into the phone until Yen got the point and hung up. A few minutes later, a text from Triss with an address and a name came through. It was just downtown, and thankfully not too far from his apartment. The name provided was Geralt, which the website unhelpfully gave no more information about. 

read the rest of ao3

[dreams-in-the-impala]

I’m currently imagining Jaskier singing these songs, whether in a modern au or in canon and Geralt watching Jaskier with heart eyes. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZO2fI1QWxrk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXsbnuVFZKI

[fangirleaconmigo]

Modern AU where Jaskier posts all of his song to youtube. He doesn't have very many hits so he doesn't think much about taking them all off one day when he is rethinking his social media strategy.

He is shocked when his handsome but introverted neighbor (Geralt is his name) calls him at one am panicking. (The man has never even used his number. Jaskier came up with some painfully transparent excuse about a neighborhood watch just to get him to take it.)

Geralt's daughter Ciri has woken up with a nightmare and apparently the only thing that gets her to sleep is Jaskier's singing. However, Geralt is panicking because can't find his videos. He rambles about not being able to find them anywhere and he feels stupid, bad at social media, he shouldn't have called, etc.

Jaskier is intrigued. "I didn't even know you knew about my music."

"You mention it every time I see you in the hall."

"Oh, you are unbearably blunt. Touche, touche. In my defense, I didn't know you listened when I rambled on."

"I do." His neighbor sounds affronted.

"Alright then."

"Is that a yes? You'll sing to her?"

Jaskier isn't done questioning him. "You really play her my music?"

*Pause*

"She hears your music."

"How."

"I might listen to your music at night. To wind down. She just overhears. She's gotten used to it."

Jaskier feels quite smug. "Well alright. Anything for my fans. Put the little one on."

Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles and puts the phone on speaker. Ciri shrieks with delight to hear Jaskier's voice. After she falls asleep, Geralt sneaks out of her room whispering a thank you.

"You know," Jaskier says playfully. "My voice is better live. I could come over sometimes to sing you lullabies in person."

Geralt is glad you can't hear a blush over the phone.

"Yes. Ok."

"Yes?" Jaskier crows.

"Yes. I'd like that."

--fin

Inspiration

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST] Roach steals Jaskier the show, Jaskier has a nice community and the chat is thirsting for Geralts arms. 👀

[humblebardd]

Jaskier: you know why I called you in here, right?

Geralt: yeah, because I accidentally sent you a dick pic—

Jaskier: *stops pouring two glasses of wine* accidentally??

[churchofpossum]

I don't have a happy new year thing for this year bcs it sucked and I am just happy it is over. So here's one from last year, no idea if I ever posted it here. So happy new year to you, may all your resolutions come true.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

Modern Day Geralt and Jaskier being two halves of the same idiot

[thedemonofcat]

Some Modern co- parenting au: When Ciri found herself in a schoolyard brawl, the teacher's immediate concern was for her father, Geralt. Upon learning of the fight, Geralt's first question was whether she had emerged victorious.

The school then attempted to contact Ciri's mother, Yennefer, who, much like Geralt, inquired about the fight's outcome.

Finally, the school reached out to Ciri's stepfather, Jaskier, uncertain about his marital status with Geralt or Yennefer. Jaskier, once again, simply asked if Ciri had won the fight.

At this point, the school abandoned their efforts to get more information.

[herostag]

have a wip or something, idk

[wannabe-goth-babe]

We are missing a glorious Geraskier opportunity here: Renfaire AU. Geralt and the wolves are knights who joust and Jaskier works as a bard. Jaskier walks up and starts flirting between jousts. Geralt gets distracted by the pretty face in the audience when Jaskier is on his break and gets decimated by Lambert.

I want this so bad.

[hannibard]

Hear me out: CEO Yennefer x employee turned sugar baby Jaskier

(Or it could be geraskefer. Rich power couple Yennefer and Geralt x struggling musician Jaskier)

[flowercrown-bard]

Geralt stared at the nervously chattering guy, unblinking. 

He was an idiot. 

A brightly dressed idiot who had driven to the wild life rescue centre in the middle of the night, close to tears because he had found an injured animal on his way to a party. 

"Can you save him?"

"Her," Geralt said automatically and took the small fluttering thing from the man. Oh, hadn't he mentioned? The guy was an idiot, who had stopped his car to help an endangered and dangerous species. 

The guy was an idiot. 

Geralt already felt his heart fluttering like the griffin's wings. 

[dapandapod]

Particular with nicknames

Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.

It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.

His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.

Well, it did not.

Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.

It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.

Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.

They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.

All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.

Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!

No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.

Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.

But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.

“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.

It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.

Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.

He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.

“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.

“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.

Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.

Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?

Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.

It’s fine. He will be fine.

It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.

It is not fine.

Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.

Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.

Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.

While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.

“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”

Jaskier drops the banana.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.

Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.

Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.

Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.

Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.

Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.

He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.

How is his poor heart to cope?

Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.

Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.

Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.

“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.

The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.

“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.

“Sexy? Doubt that.”

Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.

‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.

It should be fine. He is fine.

Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.

It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.

The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.

Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.

His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.

Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.

“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.

Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.

Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.

“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.

In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.

“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.

Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.

“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.

It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.

“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.

“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.

“Sure! Uh… What is it?”

Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.

His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.

Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.

“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.

“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”

With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.

“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.

“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.

In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.

It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.

Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.

“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”

“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.

“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.

“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.

Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”

“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.

“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.

“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.

He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.

“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.

“Gmmrmgmg.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.

“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”

Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.

They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.

When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.

It’s alright.

When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.