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Imagine Geralt taking matters into his own hands
TW: cursing, light smut, Jaskier is Dandelion in this chapter, there's only. One. Bed.
Geralt considered himself a patient man. His line of work demanded it. Especially when it came to dealing with Lambert when it was his night to cook in Kaer Morhen. Even more so when he had to deal with the troubadour companion of his, Dandelion. He was his friend, yes, but the bard never knew when to close his mouth. Geralt learned to live with it, but what he simply couldn't get used to, no matter how hard he tried, was the gods damned pining between Dandelion and their new addition to the small group of travelers.
Y/n, a young woman who had recently joined them after a run-in on the same job which led to a split in the coin reward, almost immediately had Dandelion tripping over his feet to gain her favor. He would sit and watch as she practiced her bow and arrow or sharpened and made her arrows, talking with her nonstop, it almost drove Geralt to run himself off of a cliff. If that wasn't enough, he began writing songs in her honor, recounting the many ways she made his heart flutter, or whatever it was the humans had deemed their feelings of love.
Just when Geralt thought it couldn't get any worse, Y/n had begun to gain feelings of her own for Dandelion. With the constant yearning looks and sighs of malcontent, Geralt thought he was going to lose his mind being surrounded by two people who were too blind to see that one was irrevocably in love with the other. Especially on Y/n's part. How she couldn't see all of his recent songs of love and heartache were about her, Geralt didn't think he would ever know. The humans were so idiotic when it came to love, that even Roach was getting irritated. She was smarter than your average mare, and Geralt could swear he heard her whinny in annoyance every time there was an 'accidental touch' or a clueless conversation between the two.
Y/n, as they sat around the fire, was currently working on fixing the feathered fletching of a newly made arrow. Geralt was tending to the fire, every once and a while poking the wood with a stick to move the logs, and Dandelion was strumming on his lute with a look of longing on his face as he thought up lyrics in his head and quickly jot them down in the ballad journal beside him. No doubt another song for his newest muse, the clueless idiots, Geralt thought to himself as Y/n looked up briefly from her arrow to study Dandelion. Rolling his eyes, Geralt stood, interrupting the moment as he gruffly said, "I'm going to go hunt. I'll be back soon."
"But we've already got food for tonight, and rations for the trip to Aedirn," Y/n said, her head picking up and furrowing her eyebrows at him. Dandelion too looked up from his work, glancing between Geralt, Y/n, and the flickering fire.
"It's not enough," Geralt simply replied.
He used his lack of words to his advantage to quickly turn away from the two of them before Y/n could offer to go with him, like she always did, saying she needed to practice her shots. She was useful when it came to a hunt, yes, but right now he hoped the two of them would suck it up and fuck away all their tension while he was gone. He was at the edge of just throwing into a room together in the next tavern and locking the door. He reached Roach, the chestnut blinking her dark eyes and letting out a huff and a whinny. "Don't judge me, Roach. I know you're irritated with it too," Geralt said as he patted her down gently before taking his sword and a small crossbow he got from Vesemir from her saddle and leaving the two lovesick fools alone.
