#geralt of rivia x ps reader

[plus-size-reader]

Cold

12 Days of Christmas 2021

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2284 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Enjoying the snow while Ciri and Geralt find it far less agreeable

(Lightly based in the new season, you’ve been warned)

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You, for one, found the snow to be a welcome sight.

It always had been.

You hadn’t grown up in Cintra, like Ciri, where the summers were warm and the sun shone down on the people proudly. You had grown up in Kaer Trolde, the largest of the Skellige Isles.

It snowed there often, and even when it didn’t, the cold was bitter and nipped at every bit of exposed flesh you may have had. Your cheeks were always buzzing, and your fingers sometimes went numb from the exposure.

…but you never once turned away from it.

Never once did you complain about the way your skin erupted in goose pimples or run to the fireplace inside your family home. Sometimes, you would stay outside in the snow for hours, until finally your father would drag you to the warmth.

It always felt more like home out there, but your mother never worried. She knew that the childhood stories she’d told you as a young one about the Ice Giant and sirens had simply intrigued you.

You heard those stories thousands of times growing up, and by this point, you believed them.

No Witcher had ever faced the Ice Giant and anyone who knew the truth about it was long dead but deep down, you knew the truth. You knew that those stories had been passed down through hushed whispers until they met your ears.

You knew that it was real, and in some ways, you felt connected to it.

Just as you felt connected to the snow, and the cold, and the ice.

Still, it would seem that in that, you were alone. Ciri was bundled up as tightly as she could be with layers of furs covering her already warmed flesh. It just felt like every snowflake was searing itself into her skin.

Like she couldn’t have escaped the cold if she tried.

Not that you blamed her.

If you had been in the young girl’s shoes, you were sure that you would have felt the same way about the bitter cold, and the air so chilled that it almost hurt to breathe.

It stung, and of course it did, that was the nature of the harsh winter. It was cruel, and unforgiving, but even knowing that, you loved it more than you could have ever thought possible.

Again, leaving you unsurprised.

You loved that cold winter just as you loved the unforgiving brute at your side, who had often considered himself entirely unlovable. It didn’t matter to you that it wasn’t the choice others would have made.

All that you cared about was that it was the choice you’d made.

The choice you wanted to make.

“Put your cloak back on, you’ll freeze to death” Geralt grumbled, just in time with your dramatic inner monologue to remind you that there was nothing dreamy or otherworldly about the weather around you.

He personally thought you were out of your mind.

The three of you were searching for a safe place to lay your heads at night and rather than let him do that in peace, you continued about your frolicing,

At some point, you had to stop.

You had to get up on Roach’s back alongside the Princess of Cintra and let him focus on which paths to take and make sure that you weren’t being followed.

Once you got to Kaer Morhen, you could do all the dancing and parading around that you wanted. Hell, once you got to Kaer Morhen, you could eat, sleep, and breathe the snow if it pleased you.

…but not before then.

Not before it was safe.

“Considering I’ve yet to do so, Witcher, I think I’ll survive” you countered, catching the ball of fabric as he threw it at you, giving you that look that told you that he wasn’t even remotely asking.

This was about more than your safety, or his. Now, the two of you had to look out for Ciri and that had to come first.

That had to be more important than everything else.

“Put your cloak on, and get on the horse” Geralt tried again, more used to this than he would ever actually admit.

You had always been this way.

“Fine, but I’m hardly cold” you muttered, flinging your cloak around your shoulders and clasping the small bronze button around your throat to keep it in place, but you made no motion to do anything else.

You didn’t want to ride upon Roach’s back like a common maiden, or hide away in the furs that lined his strong back. You hadn’t been a princess in a very long time, and you weren’t about to act like one.

Not ever again.

Geralt sighed, only stopping for a single moment to admire you, surveying his options.

On one hand, if you were content, he ought to be too but on the other, if you fell ill, he’d have to be the one to nurse you back to health. That burden would fall on his shoulders as all others did.

Still, arguing with you had never really gotten him anywhere and this wasn’t too bad a compromise.

It was the closest to a middle ground you two were going to reach for now, and Gerlat knew better than to argue.

You two had a young girl to protect, and you certainly weren’t one. If you wanted to take this entire journey on foot, he wasn’t about to stop you.

The choice was yours.

“Hardly cold, but stubborn as an ox” he grumbled, a small grin pulling at his lips as you continued stomping through the fallen snow on the ground, similarly to how a wolf cub might.

It was second nature to you, something you enjoyed, and he wasn’t going to stand in the way of that. He just wished that it was different, sometimes.

You heard his little quip, and took it into account as you did everything that left his lips, before shooting him a wink and continuing just as you’d done before.

He may have had a point, but you certainly weren’t going to admit it, now or ever.

~

You hadn’t heard much of Kaer Morhen in all the time that you’d been attached to the Witcher, but given the fact that Geralt wasn’t much of an oversharer, you didn’t bother to be offended.

Instead, you chose to enjoy the mystery that shrouded the place you could only imagine. After all, the place that had practically invented Geralt had to be a sight to behold, and you couldn’t wait.

It could have been anything.

Part of you imagined the mythical School of the Wolf as a grand castle, bathed in light and dripping with gold, but just the same, there was another part of you that was expecting nothing more than a whole in the wall.

As it would turn out though, Kaer Morhen was somewhere in between.

It was a grand castle in the Hertch mountains, which the three of you came to after following the Witcher’s trail, but it was hardly one of splendor like you’d imagined.

It was vast, backed up to the mountains, and made entirely of stone. All in all, it looked about as sturdy and unbreakable as the man it had built, and for that, you were glad.

At least it was safe.

If it wasn’t, he wouldn't have bothered to bring you and Ciri all this way in the first place.

“Stay close to me” Geralt hummed, making quick work of securing Roach to the post and turning his attention to you and the young girl you’d both become rather fond of.

For once, he wasn’t worried about the two of you being in any danger, but that didn’t mean he wanted either of you wandering off while inside either. Just because he trusted his brother’s didn’t make them any less territorial.

Having strangers in their home, much less women, was bound to throw them off.

You only nodded, deciding that for once, you would do as he asked of you. After all, he knew this place far better than you could have ever hoped too and you weren’t so arrogant as to assume otherwise.

The hall was silent for a moment when you entered, all the men inside taking their time to size up the intruders that had just entered their home, making your hold on Ciri’s coat tighten slightly.

Every part of you was uncomfortable, for only a moment, before the first man out of the pack enveloped Geralt in a tight hug, letting you know that you were, finally, welcome somewhere.

That was new, for all of you.

“We’ll stay here for a while, where it’s safe” the Witcher decided, after he’d gotten sufficiently caught up with all his brothers, and made up his mind.

There was nowhere better in the world for the three of you, right now.

“Is it? Safe, I mean” you whispered back, finding yourself far less inclined to trust a room full of brutish strangers than he was. You were just so used to being in danger, traveling on the arm of the Witcher.

It didn’t seem right to let your guard down.

“Of course. Let me show you” he suggested, offering his arm to you which you tentatively took upon seeing the look in his eyes.

Geralt was comfortable here.

Really comfortable, in a way that you had never really seen before.

When the two of you were on the road, even before Ciri, he did his best to relax but there was always a tense vigilance about him as he waited for disaster to strike, sure it was bound to happen.

A tense vigilance that wasn’t there, in the tenseness of his jaw or the squint of his golden eyes.

You stopped for a moment to regard Ciri, who had made herself as comfortable as she could have been with a flagon of wine, which was doing nicely to warm her. Naturally, you weren’t exactly eager to leave her on her own.

…but once again, Geralt remained totally at ease.

“We won’t be long,'' he promised, sure that at the very least Vesemir would take good care of the girl while the two of you were gone. In addition to the fact that you both knew she could handle herself, it wasn’t the end of the world.

The castle itself was just as interesting inside as out, evolving more and more as you ventured through the halls.

It certainly wasn’t clean, but given the circumstances and where you were used to sleeping, you weren’t about to complain.

Besides, from what you could tell, it was almost empty and that made upkeep of a place so large difficult, not to mention that none of the men really cared to spruce it up.

The Witcher’s weren’t a picky brood and it wasn’t as if they had guests often enough to warrant wanting to keep it cleaned up.

“Where are we going?” you sighed, watching as the man you loved expertly worked his way through the halls of this place, only confirming to you that if you didn’t have him by your side, you’d be lost.

There was no way you’d ever get the hang of this place, even if you stayed a hundred years.

“You wanted to enjoy the weather, and you can do it here” Geralt explained, unlatching the large door in front of you both, and swinging it open.

At first, you had no idea what could have been behind it but that didn’t make you any less thrilled about what you found once it was out of the way.

It was a courtyard.

Within the walls of Kaer Morhen, as safe as could be, was a full courtyard, which was almost entirely covered in a veil of crisp, white snow.

It was beautiful, more beautiful than most of the things you made a habit of coming around anymore, and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. Which was good, because Geralt wanted you to like it here.

He understood that this place wasn’t much, but that didn’t mean the three of you couldn’t be happy here.

“What do you think?” Geralt hummed, the softness in his voice once again giving away his fondness for you, not that he was really putting in much effort to hide it in the first place.

What did you think? You weren’t sure what you thought at first. All you knew for sure was that it had been a long time since you’d had the luxury of doing something like this.

Since you've been safe enough.

“You’re sure it’s safe?” you clarified again, your hands already finding that clasp around your throat to loose the cloak that was growing more and more uncomfortable as the seconds passed.

It was amazing.

The cold snow was barely falling from the sky by now but it made little difference to the boundless joy you were currently feeling. The only trouble was that you were never quite sure of anything anymore.

You supposed it came from traveling with Geralt for so long, and always having to check over your shoulder for whatever danger was likely following close behind. You never knew when you were truly safe.

…but there was one difference now.

Geralt was home.

He was home and in some ways, that meant you were home too.

All the Witcher did was nod, before taking your cloak and watching as you rushed out into the bitter cold with a huge grin on your beautiful face.

It may not have been his favorite thing but at times like this, Geralt had to wonder if snow was all that bad after all.

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | Anguish and Angst

ANGUISH AND ANGST FICS - Ready for some tear jerkers? Not-so-sweet dreams are made of these fics, so get your tissues and comfort blanket ready. 

🖐 WARNING: NSFW + anxiety inducing content beneath the cut 🖐

Break-ups & Heartbreak

@emyearns probably knows exactly what my first breakup looked like, because.. *ugly cries*. Get your tissues ready for Ghost Of You. [Mike x reader]

August sees the one who got away in No More Tears by @littlefreya [August Walker x OFC] - And I love-love-love that this is written from August’s POV! ❤️

Wearing a man’s sweater gets a whole different meaning after reading this heartbreaking fic by @emyearns. Coffee and Ink [Walter x OFC] 

Ready for some songfic breakup sadness? #11 Captain Sy by @onlyhenrys [Syverson x reader]

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Unrequited Love

Sy’s being a fool and he realises it too late. Soldier On by me. [Syverson x reader]

Henry’s a dick in this one. And you simply had Enough of always being there at the ready as his best friend. By @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

Would you walk out that door? This angsty prompt’s got you all kinds of frustrated. By @onlyhenrys

I wasn’t sure whether to place this here. But a child’s love is love too. Geralt secretly watches a family have a picnic and the kid is apparently not afraid of monsters. Highway to Hell by @wendimydarling [Geralt of Rivia] 

Let’s take a little bit of a breather with a mildly angsty, but mostly very fluffy fic of friends-taking-way-too-fucking-long-to-become-lovers. Stolen Kisses by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x OFC]

This fic is probably the pinnacle of unrequited love; it’s got slow-burn, angst-turns-fluff-in-the-end and Henry being an utter fool in the love department. (Ps. I haven’t completely caught up with this fic, so NO SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS DAMNIT!)  Chances by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x OFC]

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Nightmares & PTSD

If you want angsty dreams followed by hot, craving smut; Stay and read this fic. By me [Henry Cavill x reader]

Waking up in a hospital bed with a strange man beside you. It’s a setup I wish was a full length fic, but alas..Short but mighty. Emotion challenge - Anxious by @onlyhenrys [Walter Marshall + reader]

Nightmares wake August, but you're there to guard him when the storms outside and in get too dark. Prompt with August by @onlyhenrys [August Walker x reader]

More nightmares are kept at bay in this gorgeous little fic by @littlefreya. Angel Can You Hold Me [August Walker x OFC]

More nightmare-having bulky dudes? Marshall’s life isn’t all roses and sunshine, even when he’s caught a pretty thing in his bed. Can’t You Stay A Little Longer by @onlyhenrys [Walter Marshall x reader]

The more cutting the hurt of your past, the harder it is to open up to new people. Henry has walked on eggshells, but now finally wants to know what’s up. And if words can’t form on lips, perhaps they can..on fingertips. Please Don’t Leave Me by @wendimydarling [Henry Cavill x reader]

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It’s a Hard Knock Life

I can’t be the only LotR-nerd who got elf!Geralt vibes when watching the Witcher. So let me give you some impossible love, anguish and Middle Earth hardships in When In Dreams [elf!Geralt x human!OFC] 

You’re not sure whether Charles will return, so the last few hours with him are Sad indeed. By @onlyhenrys [Charles Brandon x reader]

We’re all having a hard knock life with the pandemic going on. So let Marshall give you some sweet care in Pandemic Anxieties by @promptandpros [Walter Marshall x reader]

Between the lines of smoking hot Superman sex, you’ll feel bad for him. Because as morning comes, life goes on. Alone. On the road. Where he hopes he’ll find yet another hot shower and a bed for the night. Convenience by @wendimydarling [Clark Kent x OFC]

Had a bad day? Henry will give you clear instructions on how to relax in: Your Voice by @peachyvulpixie [Henry Cavill x reader]

You play with the locket to your heart when Walter returns, gunpowder in the air. Despite your anniversary and all things good, you just know something’s up with him. Unnamed Marshall piece by @writernerd23 [Walter Marshall x reader]

Falling Again follows struggling AU!Henry dad as the bills keep piling and life just won’t feel the way it did when his wife was still around. By @deathonyourtongue​ [AU!Henry Cavill] 

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Depression & Body Consciousness 

Depression is a bitch, but Henry isn’t. When Words Fail, he’s there. By @princess-of-riviaa [Henry Cavill x reader]

Failing to conceive is painful, terrible, heartbreaking. And unfortunately not even the big bear can’t make it better. Feeling Challenge: Sad by @meowpurrbooks [Henry Cavill x reader]

More conceiving sadness is there in Negative, by @oddduckthatgirl -- some Christmasses just truly suck. [Henry Cavill x reader]

The loss of your husband still crushes you and his best friend, Syverson, even a year after his passing. Get your tissues ready, because this is one big ol’ tearjerker; A Soldier’s Heart by @onlyhenrys [late husband x reader + Captain Syverson]

You feel like the new life within you is the last thing Napoleon wants in his life. A Mistake by @coloraturadiva [Napoleon Solo x reader]

Good love is accepting that change is part of life. And loving one-self is often the hardest, especially when those changes seem to pry you apart from Henry. Comfort by @promptandpros [Henry Cavill x reader]

An insecure woman meets a man in the club. But this man’s not like the others, not one bit. Unexpected by @nuggsmum​ [August Walker x OFC]

Sometimes even burrito blankets can’t give you comfort. Nor your favourite show, nor anything really. Depression truly is a bitch, especially when Henry’s away. Stuck In Your Head by @inlovewithhisblueeyes [Henry Cavill x reader]

Faye’s text messages in this fic still crack me up every time, though they sure make for a stark contrast to the burned latkes and big tear fest -- it’s a good thing Marshall is a big fluffy care bear. The Great Jewish Cook-off by @inlovewithhisblueeyes [Walter Marshall x reader]

--

Corruption & Death

Walking on woodland trails you find something naive to Corrupt. By @emyearns. [angel!Mike x reader]

August has died many deaths, but still he craves One More Time - just so he can be with her. By @thetaoofzoe [August Walker x OFC] 

Our great master of angst and death suffers, and makes the world suffer, once more. There Cannot Be Peace by @killjoy-assbutt-1112 [August Walker x reader]

Okay, so this one’s on AO3, but I’ve loved it ever since first reading it. Geralt hears of Jaskier’s death and realizes a thing or two as he tries to come to terms with it all. It’s Like I’ve Gone Off To The Coast by adhdbuck [Geralt + Jaskier] 

Napoleon finds himself in a hospital, not sure what to feel as he waits for doctors to give him news. The News. Any news. Grief by @promptandpros [Napoleon Solo x OFC]

The king of corruption is defiling an angel without wings in Black Tears, by @littlefreya [August Walker x OFC]

When death comes knocking, Geralt realises his annoying bard isn’t one he wants to lose. Did You Mean It by @thecomfortofoldstorries​ [Geralt x Jaskier]

Sometimes good things come to an end, but Henry just doesn’t want it. Not even when the doctors are losing hope. The Call: Irresistible You by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x OFC]

August Walker is the perfect kind of nightmare material. Especially in this terribly hot angsty smut piece by @hope-to-hell: Dream State [August Walker x reader]

This gorgeous impressionistic piece includes raspberry mousse, blood, scarred hands and August Walker. Into The Storm by @hope-to-hell [August Walker x OFC]

--

Need a little lift-me-up after all these tear jerkers? Short Sweets is a fic rec list with a bunch of completely innocent and utterly lovely fics which will keep the bad dreams at bay ❤️

--

If you have any good recommendations that fit in this list, please add in the comments or reblog! 

( Fan art by me 😊)

[inber]

Hey, Jealousy - Geralt x Reader OS

anonymous asked: Can i ask a request where reader, geralt and jaskier find themselves at a similiar situation to that party with yennefer, where humans were all under a spell and making out/having sex with each other (djinn episode), but reader makes out with someone random or jaskier and geralt is jealous af of YN even though they're not together? Ps: love your writings

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(Sorry about that; tumblr has the stupidest editor. Had to repost to reformat.) Sure thing, Fren! Thank you for the prompt. You know I love me some uncertain, jealous Geralt. Obviously this is shaped around the Djinn episode, but without the boyes getting themselves into trouble (Jaskier probably wasn’t in a very sexy mood in that room, let’s be fair). Not my gif. Enjoy!

Summary: You’re pretty cosy with Jaskier on the road, believing Geralt to be indifferent. When you find yourself in a bit of a conundrum at Yennefer’s estate, he proves you quite wrong. Pairings: Jaskier x Reader, Geralt x Reader, Jaskier x Orgy (lol) Warnings: Adult. Smut. Dub!Con (mild, but present). Mentions of an orgy. Masturbation (F). Oral receiving (F). Overstimulation. Squirting. Bit of Geralt angst. Word Count: 4630 Tags: @persephonehemingway @xmother-mortemx @alwayshave-faith @alliyjane @stretchkingblog97 @p3nny4urth0ught5 @geeksareunique @didi0666 @tigers-pat @asgardianangelo @agniavateira @superkamigurudende @i-am-sarah @punkrogers-jerkbarnes @deansbbysblog @mary-ann84 @khaleesi-provenance @locht3ssmonster @thatonesebstanfan @afterthenightprevails @saint-hardy @ayamenimthiriel @goldensilvan @hina-chans-stuff @salaveenas-personal-blog @elsassnowflake @msmimimerton @delightfully-anonymous @uncoolcloudyhead @buggy-blogs @magic-and-the-macabre @chook007 @whatevermonkey @hermeowyn

Masterlist is here. If you’d like to support me for my time, I’d really appreciate it! Thanks for reading!

You could feel the weight of Geralt's molten gaze burning your skin from across the campfire, sharp and judgemental, although his handsome features were as impassive as ever.

When you'd met Jaskier at your town's inn and he'd discovered your skill with hand-to-hand combat – by buying you multiple cups of wine and chatting your ear off – you'd been excited to join the bard on the road as his bodyguard. You rarely had cause to travel, and Jaskier was charming, handsome, and made you laugh until you were hunched over, gasping for breath and begging for mercy. Not only was he offering coin, you strongly suspected that the offer of night company wasn't off the table. Why wouldn't you go for it? You had needs.

What you didn't need was a brooding shadow of a Witcher haunting your every footstep.

Jaskier had neglected to mention that you'd be travelling as a trio – he presumed you already knew – and the first time you'd met Geralt of Rivia in the stables, you'd made a right ass out of yourself immediately.

“Jaskier!” You'd caught the bard's attention in a stage whisper, saddling your dapple-grey mare, “That's Geralt of Rivia. The White Wolf. Gods, but he's as fucking handsome as they say.” Wide-eyed, you'd watched the massive man tending to his own horse; his movements were graceful and precise. “Mmh. Don't know why he has to fuck his way through brothels. I'd pay him.”

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier trilled, “That's Geralt. He doesn't say much, but he's actually quite delightful company, when it comes down to it. Hey, can I ride on your horse, too? Geralt makes me walk.”

“He-- what?” You spluttered, dropping a saddle-bag to the ground. “Fuck, Jaskier. Give a girl some warning. What if he'd heard me?”

“I heard you.” Geralt spoke; his voice was a delicious sliver of velvet, the brush of exotic danger. You felt the damnable flames of a raging embarrassment consume your entire body, and the glare you shot Jaskier was so heated that it was surprising the bard didn't simply combust under your focused disdain.

“He... has good hearing?” Jaskier shrugged, grinning boyishly, and you rubbed your face with your palm. Wonderful.

Things only got more awkward from there.

Jaskier was an affectionate travel companion, sat behind you on your patient, strong horse; he whispered silly tales into the shell of your ear, or tested the waters with a gentle hand on your waist when he pointed something out in the scenery to you. When he wasn't rebuffed, he took to casually cuddling you when you rode, and you thoroughly enjoyed the contact. You shared your own stories with him; little nothings about your clumsy youth, or why your horse was called 'Captain Chomp'. Even though he'd been warned, Jaskier insisted that he could win over any man or beast, and summarily you treated the bruised bite-mark later at camp.

Through all of this, Geralt was a silent sentinel, watching. If he was spoken to, he answered in a short grunt, or if absolutely necessary, snippets of sentences. Often, you caught him narrowing his gaze at you, and you had no idea why. After a week or so of travel in this manner, you'd approached him about it whilst watering the horses, Jaskier bathing at the far end of the lake – to 'preserve your virgin eyes', he'd said. You'd kicked him in the shin.

“It's a fine day.” You remarked, considering how to navigate a conversation with the imposing man of marble-and-gold, more lion than wolf, you'd have said.

“Hmm.” He grunted, and you wondered what you'd expected.

“Listen, Geralt...” You bit your lower lip and forced your gaze not to waver from his form, even as he apparently ignored you. He was fondly brushing Roach's mane; you thought it rather sweet. He did seem to love that horse. “I know we didn't meet, uh, in the most... respectable of fashions.” Gods, you tried not to remember what you'd said, because you did enough of that in the hours before sleep, replaying the conversation, “And I apologise for that, sincerely. It was unbecoming of me.”

He paused, and met your gaze with his; your breath caught at how truly beautiful his eyes were, even split down the centre with that feline pupil that betrayed his mutation. You thought you saw the slightest tremor of a smirk on his lips, but it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure.

“Don't worry about it.” He murmured, monotone.

“Well, it's just that I feel like... you aren't exactly fond of me, and I was wondering if it was because of what I'd said.” I'd pay him, your words echoed in your traitor brain, and you hoped he wasn't so endowed with sensitivity as to feel the heat of your blush.

“People have said much worse.” He picked a stray leaf from Roach's tail. “Don't worry about it.”

“I just wanted--”

A surge of water hit you from behind, completely soaking the white button-up blouse you wore, and you screamed as if you'd been stabbed. Geralt's focus was upon you instantly, looking for the threat; instead, he saw the wet curve of your breasts, and the peek of your tight nipples through the fabric. You were too shocked to register the raw lust that leapt into his vision, and you whirled on your feet to see Jaskier tugging his breeches back up, dripping wet, grinning impishly.

“Oh, oh, I'm going to fucking kill you.” You seethed, storming towards him.

He laughed, and took a few steps back. “No, no no, no you're not. Then you don't get paid.”

“I do if I loot your corpse, you louse!” You screeched, before bodily tackling him into a thicket of grass, intent on choking him out. Jaskier might have thought that you'd engage in a cute, girlish water-splashing contest, but no; he had his work cut out for him as you wrestled him, easily hooking your arm around his neck as he flailed. “Say you're fucking sorry!”

“You're... fucking... sorry.” Jaskier wheezed, grinning, even seconds away from unconsciousness.

“How attached are you to all your fingers?” You growled, “Because I'm thinking--”

“I yield!” The bard gasped, tapping your arm; you relaxed it, just a little. “Fuck, I'm sorry. You just looked a little dry, and I thought you'd look nicer wet.” The inflection in his tone was raunchy. It simply earned him a fresh round of fighting, the two of you trading pokes and slaps and twists of limb without mercy.

Geralt watched you hold your own from afar, and smiled to himself.

----------------

“Why are we to visit this Yennefer, anyway?” You asked at the campsite, casual. You'd all finished eating, and Jaskier was cuddled at your side for warmth. You had one arm slung about his shoulders.

“She has information about something I want.” Geralt offered, and you didn't expect him to expand. You glanced at Jaskier, who shrugged.

“Gods, must I torture all information from you, Geralt?” Exasperated, you huffed. He actually laughed, and the sound was rich and throaty. Even Jaskier stared.

“I'd love to see you try to torture me.” Geralt growled, and you felt the stalk of his tone thrill up your spine. Beneath your clothes, your hair stood on end. Unable to back down from a challenge, you lifted your chin.

“I'd have you begging for mercy in ten minutes.” You promised.

“Prove it.” His teeth were a predator's porcelain in the lick of the firelight.

“Aaalright, stop fighting over me,” Jaskier interjected, “I love both of you dearly. There's enough of me for everyone. Anyway, it's late, and I'm tired.” He tugged your arm. “Come to bed?”

You glared at Geralt over the flames; he returned the look, heat-for-heat. Jaskier tugged again, and you relented.

“Fine. But sing that song I like so much?” Saccharine, you smiled. You heard Geralt's low groan of protest.

“Of course.” Jaskier rose and offered you his hand. Ladylike, you accepted it, and he pulled you to the tent you shared, beginning the verse that you knew the Witcher detested. “Wheeeen a humble bard...”

----------------

Out of respect for Geralt, you and Jaskier never did much but cuddle and spoon at night. You didn't feel right about climbing atop the bard and sating both your desires with loud, wild abandon; not whilst the Witcher could hear a squirrel sneeze from a mile away. There was a mutual understanding, however; once you had some time alone, or entered a town with an inn room you could rent, you'd explore your friendly relationship further. You certainly didn't mind when Jaskier's warm hands cupped your breasts over your clothes as you slept, or the throb of his morning erection against the curve of your ass.

More than once you'd had to restrain yourselves; more than once, Jaskier had slipped away before breakfast 'to bathe', which also gave you time to relieve your own pent-up desire. With quick fingers on your clit, you would muffle your orgasm into the crook of your elbow as best you could, temporarily relieving the ache that was getting worse with time.

You were truly thankful when the city of Rinde came into view, not just because it meant restocking your supplies and taking a short break. An actual bed, an actual decent meal, an evening with Jaskier; there was a lot to look forward to. You urged Captain Chomp into a slightly faster trot.

“We're going straight to Yennefer, yes?” Jaskier enquired, as you rode behind Roach. Geralt grunted; you presumed that meant 'yes'.

“Why are we to go see the mage, too?” You hissed, lowly. It was getting dark, and you thought about the wasted hours spent making small-talk with the woman.

“Because I write about Geralt's conquests, dove.” Jaskier informed you, “I go where he goes. If I don't, I miss out on a story – he's not the best at recounting events. Maybe you've noticed.”

You sighed with all the drama of a horny, scored woman. “Fine. But I don't wish to linger.”

“Neither do I.” Geralt piped up, and you had to snort. At least you were all on the same page.

You saw the horses tethered at the grand manor, and you stretched your road-wearied legs, blinking up at the estate. It was well-lit, and you thought you could hear activity inside. At least she was home, you thought.

There was nobody to greet you as you entered the hallway, which was unusual. A mage of rank usually kept servants. “Hello?” Jaskier chirped, into the strangely still belly of the first floor.

You narrowed your eyes. “I don't like this.”

Geralt grunted, dismissing you, and strode forward. You followed in his wake, keeping Jaskier close behind you. The knuckle-dusters in your pocket felt heavy, and you brushed your fingers over the dagger strapped to your hip.

A peculiar fog spilled down the stairs, curling like the invitation of ghostly fingers, and your suspicion spiked. “Geralt, I--” Again, he ignored you, and forged up the steps. Gritting your teeth, you followed. The hazy smoke felt pleasant somehow, warming, and you wondered at it; perhaps the mage was testing new spells or potions. You had no idea how mages worked.

When Geralt shouldered open a massive oak door, you realised that your ignorance ran very deep, indeed.

“What the fuck?” The Witcher wondered, as you and Jaskier gaped at the scene unfolding before you.

Couples of all genders, ages, sizes – Gods, you thought you even saw elves – were twisting together in an erotic dance, in various states of undress. There were oils and candles and ropes and some things that you didn't even recognise – was that a fucking horse whip? – and you stuttered your shock. The longer you stood there, the more you breathed of that strange mist. And the more you breathed, the more normal the carnal, writhing orgy seemed to appear. You felt the tenseness of your muscles begin to uncoil, as you stumbled a few steps into the place, collapsing bewildered onto a plush cushion. Jaskier tottered over to you, and sat at your feet.

Geralt was unaffected, striding through the haze with purpose to stand before a beauty of a woman; her olive skin was rich in the low-light, and she was one of the few present who wore clothes. You thought you saw the flicker of violet in her irises. “Gods, I want her to sit on my face.” You slurred, and felt no shame at the sentiment like you should have.

She rose, examining Geralt like he was a treasure. Your attention drifted to Jaskier, who was taking in his surroundings, his warm hand on your thigh. So warm. It felt good. You shivered, and he turned to regard you; the vivid blue of his eyes was a mere sliver, consumed by his pupils. Without realising it, your hands were at the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one. Jaskier watched, transfixed, before he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss.

His plush lips sent a spark of lust crackling across your entire body, and you returned the embrace eagerly, abandoning your open shirt in favour of raking your hands through the chestnut of his hair. He moaned into your mouth and you licked up the sound, kittenishly nipped his lower lip, pressed your body into his. Faintly, you were aware of a blonde woman behind him, her hands on his wide shoulders as she helped him out of his doublet. You didn't care. The more the merrier, you drunkenly thought, as you breathed deeply of the lazy-hazy smoke, tilting your head back to allow Jaskier to run his mouth down your neck, to your breasts. You moaned, long and low.

“Yennefer, I just need to know if the tales of the djinn are--” Geralt was getting nowhere with the gorgeous mage, who was intent on toying with him, just as she manipulated the people in the room. He heard the sound of your voice, filled with lust, and whipped his gaze to regard you across the party. As Jaskier cupped your tits and laved your aching nipples with his tongue, Geralt growled.

“Friends, are they?” Yennefer asked, her ruby lips tugged into a smug smile. “The girl wants to fuck me, you know. I wasn't going to get involved in this nonsense, but she is so very pretty...”

The Witcher whirled again, all bared teeth. “Release them from your spell.” He demanded.

“Why would I?” She blinked, playing the part of naïve so naturally, “They are having such fun.”

At this point, you were straddling Jaskier, finding the lacings of his breeches too complicated for your dopey fingers; instead, you were taking your pleasure from the friction of his hard cock in a slow dry-fuck, the curve of your back pornographic, your fingers tangled in the hair of his chest. He was moaning into the nameless blonde's cunt as she knelt over his face, lazily eating her out as she purred encouragements.

Geralt snapped.

He stormed away from the minx of a mage, who laughed in his jealous wake, and idled by your side. “Get off him.” He ordered, “We're going.”

You paused to regard the Witcher, your kiss-swollen lips parted, eyes half-lidded; he looked magnificent. He groaned when he realised that nobody was home upstairs in your mind, not right now. You were too far into the grasp of the spell, lost to lust. So he did the only rational thing he could think of.

He picked you up and hoisted you over his enormous shoulder, considered Jaskier for a moment – another person was already taking your place – and left the room. The bard didn't even notice.

You mewled in disappointment, feeling dizzy as the floor swayed beneath you. All of you was hot, and you were no longer getting the pleasure you so desperately craved. The sounds of the slick, heady party became distant. You were faintly aware of another descent, another set of stairs, and then your feet were touching the ground in a new room.

Without a thought you turned, seeking the door, your body wanting to return to the party. It knew the way. Geralt growled again, and slammed the only exit, heaving a barrel in front of it. With a whine of protest, you shoved at the heavy object in vain, struggling, before sliding down the wood to sit, dazed.

“Fuck's sake,” Geralt growled, pacing. You were in a small cellar, lit by a torch – although you could have been on top of a mountain, for all you were aware – and your eyes tried to follow his pacing. He was blurry. Handsomely blurry. “I should have listened to you. I'm sorry I brought you here.”

Gods, but his voice was sexy. You palmed your own breasts, eager for some sensation. It wasn't enough. He glanced at you, stiffened, and resumed a faster pace. “Don't do that.” He barked.

“Mmmh.” You moaned, wriggling your undone breeches free from your hips, down the length of your legs. He could smell you before, but in this confined space it hit him like the savage slap of a merciless ocean wave, and he balled his hands into fists, pausing at a wall, pressing his forehead against it. Your cunt was aching, dripping; you ran your fingers along the slick of it and shivered.

“Stop.” He rasped, “Gods.” He squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't be tempted to look, but the sounds you were making were so divine that he couldn't help but steal a peek. Your fingers were curled inside yourself as you tried to stimulate some kind of release, sweating and frustrated. It felt like you were constantly on the brink of orgasm, but unable to push over the edge into release, left in a stasis of torture.

“I can't--” Geralt snarled, “I can't do anything whilst you're... like this. Fuck knows I want to. It'll wear off soon enough, you just need to endure.” He begged you with his golden gaze, every muscle in his body coiled and corded, resisting.

You knew he was talking, but you didn't understand him. All you knew was that he sounded like sex, and you wanted him to keep doing it. “Please.” You managed, sniffling, squirming against your own hand. “Need, I need...”

“I know, sweet girl.” His voice was of an incoming storm, and the thunder of it rocked you. “I can't.”

“Keep-- please. Keep... doing that.” The sound of your own finger-fuck was an obscene thing in the shrink of the room, as you arched the small of your back. His eyes were pitch, as if he'd consumed a potion. Snatching a small pot from a shelf, he tried to keep his hands occupied.

“Keep doing what, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice a rough plea, “I don't know what to do. I can't give you what you want, I-- it wouldn't be right. I'd never--”

He was cut off when you squealed, the rawness of his voice enough to bring you to climax. Like a statue he watched your small release, the squirt of your juices, the hard pant of your breath as you shivered. He had that noise memorised from the mornings you relieved yourself when Jaskier was away, but watching it was an entirely spiritual experience. The jar in his hands shattered from the pressure he was gripping it with. “Fuck.”

It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and you bucked uselessly against your own hand. “Plee-eeease.” You sobbed, bleary gaze fixed on him, tears trailing your cheeks. The ache was enough to hurt you. He could see that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chanted, dropping the remnants of the pottery to the ground. “Okay, I'll... my mouth, on you. This won't be about me, sweet girl. I'll help you, but I can't... be with you. Not like this.” His raging erection screamed at his own morals, but he fought back his selfish desire. You needed him.

His pretty voice was stroking you, that much you knew, but you were unprepared for his mouth on your cunt. Squeaking your surprise, you fisted a hand into his silvery hair and jerked your pelvis up sharply, feeling the delicious scratch of his stubble on your inner thighs. He growled into your folds, thrusting his tongue into your weeping pussy to taste you, before he replaced it with one thick, curled finger. His lips sealed over your clit and suckled. This was exactly what you needed; the pain subsided and gave way to a tsunami of pleasure. Your head thudded back against the wood of the door as he brought you to climax in less than a minute, his moans joining your own, the massage of his fingertip on your g-spot constant and firm. Throughout the firestorm of this one, you rode his face savagely and he took it, worshipping your clit, knowing when you were becoming too sensitive for the pressure and relenting, only to toy with your button in tongue-tip circles, making you crest a second time. The flex of your walls was a morse-code on his hand, every climax bringing a fresh trickle of your wetness for him to devour.

You screamed, you bucked, you panted like an animal in heat, unable to get enough of the feeling. Your hands were everywhere, scratching the door behind you, knitted into his long hair, cupping your breasts. Still he stimulated you, and still you came. There was no beginning or end; your orgasm became cyclical, a world for you to dissolve into bodily, the electric snap of your nerves a sea-storm that you joyfully weathered. Time had no meaning for you. Nothing existed except the feeling of him, the fierce sound of his growling, the constant relief he provided you selflessly, again and again.

For the better part of an hour, he had you in this state; the only times he paused were when you became hoarse from screaming, and then he fetched you a jug of water from the shelves, demanding that you drink of it. Finally, the haze began to lift; he felt it in the slackening of your fucked-out muscles, and heard it in the confused guests descending the stairs en masse. Yennefer had grown bored.

With care, he withdrew from your sore, quivering cunt, doing his best to tug your breeches back on. When that proved to be impossible, he simply slipped his own shirt off and wrapped you in it, lifting you. You were rag-doll limp, but he heard your steady breath and heartbeat. Some part of you became aware of the sound of hoofbeats, the rumble of his bare chest as he spoke, the slip of fresh cloth on your sweaty skin. But for the most part, you drifted.

----------------

You awoke to an afternoon sun, moaning at the feeling of your aching muscles. Your mouth was dry and your throat a razor-wire slice; you fumbled sleepily for the tankard of water at the bedside and drank it all in frantic gulps. And then you became aware of a warmth behind you.

“Jaskier,” You rasped, “What the fuck happened?”

“Not Jaskier.” Geralt's voice made you turn so quickly that your entire body protested at the movement; he was tucked in beside you, shirtless. You stared at him with wide eyes; it was about then that your aching pussy made itself known, and you whimpered.

“Did... did we... fuck?” You whispered, and he frowned.

“Not... exactly.”

“Why do you have no shirt on, then? In... my bed? Is this my bed?”

“You're wearing my shirt.” He explained, and you looked down. Oh.

“Yennefer's... party.” You tried to recall, “There was...” Blinking, vague memories danced in the eye of your mind. “I think I had a really, really strange dream.”

“Wasn't a dream.” Geralt murmured, shifting slightly to face you. “She had some kind of lust spell active. Both you and Jaskier were affected.”

Faintly, you recalled kissing the bard – and also a blonde woman. Then you remembered stairs, the snarl of a beautiful voice – Gods, what a voice – and then an aggressive pleasure that had consumed you so entirely that you couldn't pinpoint how or what or why it had occurred. Recalling it made your lower body tense, and your cunt practically screamed – not for awhile, bitch!

“You were there.” You blinked, “You took me from the party.” It didn't make sense; you shook your head. “Why...?”

You'd never seen Geralt look so exposed, so contrite. So human. “I couldn't bear... to watch. It's not my business. I'm sorry. But I just-- I don't--” He struggled, “I had to get you away from it.”

You fumbled to understand. “I thought you didn't like me.”

He groaned, and rubbed a his eyes with a hand. You saw how exhausted he looked. “I tried not to. I really did. I wanted Jaskier's happiness. Fuck, I didn't know what I felt. From the first day in the stables, you... drew me in, somehow. It wasn't until Jaskier asked me if I'd be okay with you two renting a room for a few nights here in Rinde that I realised...” His eyes met yours, “I was jealous. I-I had no right. I have no right. But fuck, I was. I am.”

“Jealous?” You parroted, stupidly, disbelieving.

“Yes. But Jaskier, he's a good man. And I respect him. So I kept my distance, until I saw--” His jaw pinched tight, and his gaze fled from yours. “I didn't think, I acted. And you were in pain. I swear to you I did not take my pleasure from your flesh. I just needed you to be safe. I'm sorry.”

Whirling with this information, you stared. He could not meet your gaze. For the first time, it was you in silent judgement, and him making a fool with a stream of verbal nonsense.

“Jaskier is safe. He's in another room with two people – a woman and a man that he would not release his grip upon, even after the spell subsided. I stayed here to make sure you were okay, but if you want, I--”

“Geralt.”

“--Can go. If you wish me away, I won't seek you again. I understand if--”

“Geralt!”

Finally, he stopped, and you gently placed your fingers on the sharp line of his jaw, seeking his eyes again. They were softened and wary. “You helped me. And maybe I could not have said yes before, but if I said yes later... well, I wasn't joking about what I said when we first met. I like you, too.”

His brow rose, the lightness in his gaze reminding you of poured honey. “What... of Jaskier?”

You snorted. “You think Jaskier is monogamous? He'll probably want to join us.”

Geralt frowned. “I don't like sharing.”

Laughing, you leaned in, pressing your lips against his chastely. “I believe that has been established.” He murmured, returning the affectionate gesture. “We'll talk to him later. See, that's the thing – talking. Communication. It gets you far.”

He grunted. “I'm out of practice.”

You laid a hand on his chest, and wriggled closer to him. “Well, we have time, don't we?”

He smiled at you, placing his own large hand atop your own, squeezing your fingers. “We do. As much time as you'll give me.”

[bookscoffeeandracoons]

366 Days Reblog Challenge - November 2020

I really feel like saying sorry for the Masterlist spam! If i do this yearly reblog thingy again, I’ll have to try to keep up with the months and their masterlists. But nonetheless I am very happy to make them. It’s been a lot of fun and i can only keep repeating myself with saying thank you to the creative geniuses and wishing everybody a happy new year! XOXO

p.s. Only one more Masterlist to go so the spamming will ease down soon again 😅

01. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 2 by @avengerscompound​

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, shower sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

02. “Talking to the Moon” by @littlemessyjessi​

Remus Lupin x Reader: PS Reader, Plus Size Reader, Reader with Mythical Heritage

Prompts: “I literally forgot that you’re a werewolf.”

“Am I supposed to understand this costume or was the concept to just be as weird and confusing as possible?”

 “Love, do you understand the concept of couples costume?”

 “So…can we reuse this costume?”

Heartbeat by @after-avenging-hours​

Soulmate AU where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together…   [Part 9 contains smut]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

03. Part 1

04. Part 2

05. Part 3

06. Part 4

07. Part 5

08. Part 6

09. Part 7

10. Part 8

11. Part 9

12. Bonus Chapter: Bucky’s POV

13. Bonus Drabble

14. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 3 by @avengerscompound​

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, D/S, bondage, riding crops, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

15. The Hamptons’ House: 2006 - 4 by @avengerscompound​

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut (MF, D/S, bondage, vanginal fingering, squirting, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: When you return to the house in the Hamptons’ it’s both with a fear or the direction Tony’s life is taking and a concern about him no longer being interested with you.

16. Envy by @bonniebird​

Loki x Reader

17. Envy (Part Two) by @bonniebird​

Loki x Reader

18. Envy (Part Three) by @bonniebird​

Loki x Reader

19. Neighbour by @evanstarff​

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Fluff me up, scotty!

Summary: Steve Rogers hasn’t been kissed twice since 1945.

20. Control by @borkingbarnes​

Goddess of Lightning!Reader x Geralt of Rivia

Warnings: smutsmutsmut (18+ only!)

Summary: A man of power and dominance, the Witcher does not give up control. But when he does, it’s oh so sweet.

21. Winter’s Ghost by @jobean12-blog​

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Softness and fluff <3

Summary: You meet the Winter Soldier on a very cold winter night.

22.The Hamptons’ House: 2009 - 1 by @avengerscompound​

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Grief, Smut (MMF, bisexual threesome, oral sex, double vaginal penetration)

Synopsis: When Tony goes missing for three months in Afghanistan you grieve his death.  His subsequent return and outing as Iron Man means your first time seeing him in the Hamptons carries a lot of emotion and questions.

23. Winter’s Ghost Part 2 by @jobean12-blog​

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst and fluffy fluff :)

Summary: After spending some time with The Winter Soldier you realize you want more of it and more of him.

24. Winter’s Ghost Part 3 by @jobean12-blog​

Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: teeny tiny angst and lots of sweet fluff

Summary: A continuation of Winter’s Ghost part 1 and 2 where you are spending time in Romania and just being happy.

25. Snowball Fight by @squirrel-moose-winchester​

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning: FLUFF

26. Melody by @bitsandbobsandstuff​

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: On a late night wander, Bucky hears a song from the past

27. Breathe by @avengerscompound​

Clint Barton Gen Fic

Synopsis:  If Clint isn’t the best Archer in the world then what is he?

28. Remember by @amanda-teaches​

Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mark of Cain!Dean, breakup, angst, swearing, indecision, reconciliation, second chances

Summary: After breaking up with Dean, a bittersweet anniversary rolls around. You prepare to spend it using wine to help forget, but the arrival of the past at your doorstep changes things.

29. The Hamptons’ House: 2009 - 2 by @avengerscompound​

Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of torture, illness, and PTSD

Synopsis: When Tony goes missing for three months in Afghanistan you grieve his death.  His subsequent return and outing as Iron Man means your first time seeing him in the Hamptons carries a lot of emotion and questions.

30. Empath: Prologue by @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​

Bucky Barnes x Female reader, Steve Rogers x Female reader, Sam Wilson x Female reader (not all at once)

Warnings: Mentions of child kidnapping, doctors tests, medical tests and abuse and child death, but none of it is explicit.

Summary: You’re an Empath, a Mutant, and you’re in love. Will your feelings save you… or will theirs destroy you?

Back to main Masterlist

[brightjimini]

A Silent Sacrifice *teaser*

1st part is online

Geralt x F!Reader

Warnings: violence, swearwords and this will have more than 1 part.

Genre: fluff, angst, friends to lovers

Summary:

Y/N lives alone in a small cottage in the woods. She makes medicines and potions from herbs for the neighbouring villages. She is known as a kind and strong woman. Her friend Geralt from Rivia visits her occasionally.

One day when the Witcher is visiting her, bandits and knights from Nilfgaard attack them. When Geralt is on the brink of life death she trades something important from her to a jealous. To safe his life.

Word count: 250

---------------------------

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I brushed some snow away to pick some peppermint leaves from the little garden next to my cottage. A special guest had arrived this morning on his horse, he has many names and most people think he is a monster. But when you know him for a few years you see that he is someone who fights for justice.

The first time I met him was when I just moved into the forest. It was cold and dark outside. I was tired after cleaning up the whole day. I could see the full moon and the beautiful stars shining while I was making some soup. When someone knocked on my door. I grabbed the nearest knife I could find and walked slowly to the door.

I was a little terrified because this was the first time someone knocked on my door when it was late and dark outside. "Who is there?" I said loudly. I heard some shuffling on the other side of the door and a horse blowing through his nose. I rested my hand on the doorknob. "I need some water and food for my horse." said a deep and gravely voice on the other side of the door. "I was wondering if I could buy something from you?"

"You did not answer my question." I replied. "Who are you?" It was silent for a moment and I grabbed the knife in my hand tighter and prepared myself for an attack. "I am.. Geralt of Rivia."

My eyes got wide. " A Witcher." I whispered.

----------------

I hope you guys enjoy the full part.

Thank you @writerofbts for proofreading💜.

Ps. Let me know if you want to be tagged in the story.

[plus-size-reader]

Hidden Away

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2138 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Geralt makes a small stop on his journey and has to take Jaskier along, only for the bard to uncover the Witcher’s biggest secret. 

——————————————————————————————————

Geralt had never got close to this place without stopping, but not for a lack of trying.

All those years ago, he had lived here under the cover of what he was, killing monsters for money, just as he did now. There was only one thing that was different back then, one very important thing.

...You

You were, for lack of a better word, the witcher's life partner. You were the only person that he’d ever truly cared for and that meant one very painful thing. It meant that he had to leave you behind,

Geralt couldn’t very well let something happen to you because of who and what he was. If something happened to you, he would never be able to forgive himself so he left you here, only visiting on rare occasions.

You never agreed to it, of course, but he didn’t give you much choice in the matter.

Geralt made a rather strong case for why you had to stay there, and seeing as you’d never been the hunting and killing monsters type, you agreed against your better judgement.

Though you constantly found yourself staring out your window, waiting for the day he’d come strolling up that cobblestone path looking to spend a few nights with you before he had to leave again.

You were never going to escape your every second searching for the man you loved so much.

Still, as much time as you spent staring into the grassy fields and empty streets of town, you couldn’t have been less prepared for the time when he finally came looking for you.

It seemed that the time would never come but that all changed this morning, when Geralt insisted to the bard that he needed to stop in a nearby town for a few days.

He offered nothing more than that and Jaskier didn’t ask questions.

Whatever it was that Geralt needed to go there for, the other man seemed to understand that it wasn’t his place to probe for information. Anything he needed to know would come to him as the days unfolded.

Not that he was comfortable waiting that long as soon as the two men actually got into the town Geralt had been telling him about.

The witcher didn’t even bother to stop at the inn or any of the foodstands that were currently operating through the final months before winter when they would have to close up for the season.

Instead, he made his way toward the edge of town with not a word, just leading the bard behind him with Roach in tow. It would all come to light in time and right now, Geralt wasn’t in the mood to explain.

All he could think about was seeing you again after all this time.

It had been months since he’d been able to come through his way and that was something he wouldn’t be able to apologize for enough but to make up for it, he brought the bard along to help explain.

All things considered, the witcher was just glad he’d been able to carve out this time to see you before they had to leave again.

“Where are we going Geralt? What is going on?” Jaskier asked finally, half convinced that his best friend was out of his mind at this point. He seemed to just be walking into the woods with no destination in mind.

Though, just as he was about to demand that they stop and talk it through, your cabin came into view.

It was close enough to town that you could walk to get the things that you needed but not so easily accessible to the road that anyone just wandering through could find you.

Gerlat had built it with that in mind, with the sole purpose of keeping you safe when he couldn't.

“What is this?” Again, Jaskier spoke but Geralt ignored him, searching the window in the front, almost expecting to see you there in the shadow of it. Though, you weren’t there like you usually were.

Instead, you had been in the back of the cabin, checking on the raspberry plant you’d rescued from the forest. You weren’t sure it was going to sproat at first, but now it was doing pretty well.

In fact, it had even started flowering and it wouldn’t be too much longer that it would start producing fruit. By spring, you may have even been able to sell them at the market.

“Y/N? Are you here?”

The words came from the front of your home in a tone that you couldn’t have hoped to misplace. You faltered only slightly, considering if you could have imagined it but as if to prove you wrong, he called again.

This time it was only your name, in that deep, gruff voice that you knew so well but that wasn’t all. As you rounded the side of the cabin toward the front, you heard a second voice.

...One you didn’t recognize.

“Who is Y/N? Geralt, what is going on?” it sounded like another male, though his voice was much more melodious than demanding in the way the witcher’s was.

In any case, it was enough to make your walk toward the front of your home much more cautious than it would have been if it was just Geralt out there.

You didn’t know this stranger, and whoever it was, you couldn’t be sure that they didn’t want to do you any harm...At least, not until you saw the two of them with your own two eyes.

At first, all you did was peak around the corner you were hiding behind but it was more than enough for Geralt to see you. Even still, after he’d called out again, you didn’t come out.

You weren’t going to until he assured you that you were safe.

Perhaps all this time you’d spent in exile had made you a bit more cautious about strangers, more nervous to the company of other people but you couldn’t be blamed for that.

You just weren’t sure how safe you were in their company.

“Y/N, it’s okay. You can come out, this is a friend of mine” Geralt assured finally, partially proud that you were being so careful even in his presence. It meant that you were just as careful when he wasn’t there, and that would keep you alive.

Somehow, even after that, you didn’t seem convinced but you did as he asked, walking slowly until you were at his side finally. As soon as you were there though, your reactions did a complete 180.

To Jaskier, it was confusing but once you made sure that everything was safe, you practically launched yourself into the witcher's arm. It was an action that would have caught a normal man off guard, but not Geralt.

If anything, he seemed to have been anticipating the action and caught you gently without hesitance. Even a woman of your frame, who Jaskier could not have held in that way, gave little cause of issue for Geralt.

He barely even noticed the added weight of holding you, instead focusing on holding you as close to him as possible, breathing in your scent that he’d missed so much.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, we’ve been on quite the journey” he muttered, pressing a gentle kiss to your face before setting you back down on the ground, letting you get your balance back before turning to the bard finally.

This whole time, Jaskier didn’t even know what was going on and he still stood by his friend without hesitation. As he said before, whatever he needed to know would find him in time.

All he had to do was wait.

“Forgive me, I’m being so rude. I’m Y/N” you spoke first, beating Geralt to it once you’d gotten comfortable in the company of this new man. Usually it would have taken longer but with the witcher here by your side, you had nothing to fear.

Nothing could hurt you while Geralt was here.

You offered a hand to the dark haired man, a bright smile on your face as you tried to get him to introduce himself in turn. Jaskier was thinking about it, of course, with every intention of doing so but he couldn’t make his tongue make the words.

In front of him was a goddess among men.

You were the most stunning creature he’d ever seen in his entire life and he was just expected to speak to you as if it was nothing? That wasn’t going to happen.

Luckily, Geralt knew his friend well enough to have seen this coming. The witcher was under no illusions about your beauty. You had been self conscious about your appearance all your life, constantly told to change yourself but Geralt had no part in that.

Once you two met, he made sure that you were aware of how beautiful you were just as you were, and now Jaskier was witnessing it for himself.

“This is Jaskier, he’s a bard” Geralt informed, a bit of humor in his tone as he spoke about the man in front of you both. The better you got to know him, the better you would understand.

...But that would come with time.

You giggled, assuming that there was something wrong with the strange man before he finally nodded, still unable to make the words he was searching for.

“It’s nice to meet you Jaskier” and with that, you reached back to take the witcher’s hand in your own, leading both men into the cover of your cabin. You tried not to spend too much time outside if you could help it,

You never knew who could have been watching.

“You two must be famished, I’ll fix you something” you spoke idely, more to yourself than either of them, immediately searching for something to serve them. “So, tell me about where you’ve been? Saved any lives lately?” you grinned, starting up the smalltalk as you worked.

Whatever it was they had been up to, you were beyond thrilled over the chance to hear all about it. Geralt’s stories had always been your favorite and you weren’t going to miss a second.

...And thus, began one of the most incredible stories you’d ever had the privilege of hearing with your own two ears. These two had been through the gauntlet and you were hooked on every word.  

“How do you know her? I swear, that woman is incredible. What do you imagine the chances I have with her are?” Jaskier wondered, fiddling with his fingers as he spoke.

You couldn’t hear them from where you were, doing your best to get the spare bed ready for a guest but Jaskier couldn’t help but check over his shoulder as he spoke about you.

He surely would die of embarrassment if you heard him.

“I don’t so bard. She’s my wife”

That was one hell of a development, of course, but Geralt said it as if it was nothing. It didn’t seem to register to him that information like that could have very well made Jaskier swallow his tongue.

A wife? He didn’t even know that Geralt had a wife, let alone the fact that his wife looked like you?

“You’ve been hiding her here and you didn’t tell me?” he gasped, his hand physically falling over his open mouth as he tried to comprehend this new information.

All Geralt did was nod.

He didn’t think that it was all that important until now, besides, telling people about you defeated the purpose of hiding you in the first place.

“No one knows about her, it's just better that way. She’s safe here, safer than she would ever be with me” It was just the truth, but even as he said it, there was a sadness in Geralt’s voice.

You truly did deserve much better than him, better than the life he’d provided for you but it kept you alive and that was all he could hope for now.

He only hoped that one day it would be better and you two could wake up beside one another every morning for the rest of your lives...but for now, this was just how it had to be.

“I refuse to believe that goddess of a woman married you” Jaskier shrugged, a few moments after Geralt left his side to help you. All he could do was watch the two of you, eyes wide with the sheer craziness of it.

...But the proof was in the pudding and Jaskier could see it with his own two eyes.

Geralt had a wife, and you just happened to be the most beautiful woman the bard had ever laid eyes on. There was no refuting that.

[plus-size-reader]

Love

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2005 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Geralt confesses his feelings for the reader as she’s bleeding out but when she recovers, he isn’t sure how to navigate from there.

——————————————————————————————————

Geralt told you that he loved you.

He thought you were dying, and he told you that he loved you.

However, the stab wound you’d suffered at the hands of that man wandering through the forest hadn’t been as deep as you’d initially assumed and you were nearly back to normal in a few days.

That left the three of you; Geralt, Jaskier, and you in a rather precarious position. Jaskier had taken on the tedious job of changing your bandages and making sure you didn’t tear at the mediocre stitches he’d given you while Geralt wouldn’t even look at you.

You weren’t sure what it was that you’d done but you were sure of one thing, you were sure that Geralt hated you. For one reason or another, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he never spoke to you again.

The biggest trouble with the witcher was that you barely understood him in the first place but after everything that had happened lately, you couldn’t even guess what he was thinking.

...And you couldn't even ask him because he wouldn’t be near you for more than a moment or two in passing.

So, you had to stick to what little contact you did have and talked through all your worries and concerns with Jaskier. Even now, as he was fiddling with the wrap on your abdomen, you couldn’t focus on anything more than Geralt.

“Why would he say that to me? Assuming, ah, that he wouldn’t have to ever deal with the consequences?” you asked, only stopping in the middle to wince when Jaskier pulled away the bandage from the bloodied wound a little too aggressively.

You had thought over that moment over and over again since it happened, and you still couldn’t make sense of it.

Geralt was the first one of the two of them to find you there, laying in a puddle of your own blood, the man who stabbed you long gone by then. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, or what was happening as you faded in and out of consciousness.

However, what you did remember more vividly than everything else was when Geralt leaned down over you, holding the wound in your stomach tightly with one hand and bracing your cheek with the other as he urged you to stay awake.

The pain was numbing, but after that much time, you barely even paid it any mind.

All you could focus on was Geralt’s face, and the words that fell from his lips as he tried to keep pressure on the wound.

“You’re going to be fine, just keep your eyes on me” he begged, doing his very best to keep calm though it was hard to ignore how much blood you had lost. He wasn’t sure that there was any way to come back from that.

Still, he couldn’t help but hope that you were going to pull through. Normally, something like that wasn’t going to just slip through the cracks but with everything going on, he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t leave me Y/N, I love you”

It was so real, and even though you did end up passing out on the way back to the camp, it was the first thing you remembered as soon as you did wake up.

Geralt loved you, and there was no moving on from that...at least, not for you.

He seemed to have wanted to completely forget it, as if he’d never said it at all. However, you couldn’t let it go nearly as easily, mostly because he offered no explanation.

If he told you that it was some kind of mistake, made out of the desperation of the situation, you could get on with your life as if it never happened, though it would hurt. The worst part of it all was that you had no frame of reference for it.

You didn’t even know if he cared for you or not.

...And Geralt wasn’t exactly clarifying.

Jaskier considered his words for a moment or so, folding a shred of cloth over itself a few times to make a bandage for your wound. It was healing rather nicely, all things considered but if you came down with an infection, it wouldn’t be for long.

Luckily, he had spent a few nights with a medicine woman a few years back and that brief knowledge helped both you and the witcher on your travels.

It wasn’t much, especially seeing as he spent more time studying her body than the things she was trying to teach him, but it was enough.

“Unfortunately my dear, Grumpy out there is the only one who can answer that. Who knows, maybe I would have done the same had I found you there” Jaskier shrugged finally, gesturing outside the tent to where Geralt was.

He wished desperately that he could help you understand and that he could give you the answers that you craved but he wasn’t in a position to do so. Truly, the only person who could tell you was the witcher, and you both knew it.

...Fuck.

You had really hoped that Jaskier would be able to tell you so you wouldn’t have to confront the man yourself, but as it would turn out, you didn’t have much of a choice.

So, you finished up with Jaskier, making sure to thank him for being so diligent in your care and then made your way out to the river, where Geralt was currently staring into the depths.

He had been being so strange lately, and there really was no explanation for it, the obvious aside. The two of you had never had trouble speaking to each other before but this was different.

These circumstances were beyond your control.

“Looking for something, witcher?” you questioned first, finding that was the best icebreaker you could have hoped for. You both knew where this conversation was going, but it had to be handled the right way.

You were both rogues as a general rule, but sometimes it was easier to hide behind the social pleasantries that you usually disposed of.

“No”

That was about what you’d been expecting, but you’d already made up your mind. You were going to have this conversation, even if you had to knock Geralt on his ass to do it.

You weren’t going to just sit around like a damsel in distress, waiting for him to decide that you were deserving of an explanation.

All you could do was sigh, unable to keep your frustration a secret anymore. You had been raking your brain for days, when you weren’t in inconsolable pain, desperate to understand.

Nothing made him say it, in that moment he deemed as the last of your life, but he did anyway and there had to be a reason.

“Enough of this Geralt, why have you been so distant lately? I can’t understand” you asked, no longer paying any mind to how crazy you may have looked.

He wasn’t the only one who’d had to face your mortality. You couldn’t have died there in that moore, and still, you couldn’t get him to even answer a few simple questions.

Of course you were losing patience.

“I’ve spoken to Jaskier, he has no idea. I’ve given it every possible moment I could, but I can’t think about it anymore. I’m going to drive myself mad” you explained, both your hands rubbing hastily over your face.

You just couldn’t sit back and pretend it didn’t happen and maybe he could. Maybe Geralt was perfectly content with never speaking to you again, but you werent.

If nothing else, he was a good friend of yours and that would be a loss all its own.

Now, Geralt had been ignoring you purposefully, of course. He had no idea how to address what had happened there under that oak tree but he understood where you were coming from as well.

It truly wasn’t fair of him to expect you to forget it.

...But he just wasn’t sure how to explain himself.

Deep down the witcher knew that he was completely and irrevocably in love with you but that wasn’t even something he was willing to admit to himself so how was he meant to just tell you?

There was too much at stake on both sides. If you did happen to feel the same for him, you would be in danger for all the days of your life that you had left but if you didn’t, his heart would surely shatter.

How was he meant to approach you after that?

You had made it abundantly clear that you were in this voyage for the long haul and it would be terribly strange to have to see one another every day after this.

Still, there was no refuting the truth.

You had started this conversation, and he couldn’t very well back out of it again. He could only get away with that for so long, and it was time to own up to what he’d done.

“I thought I’d lost you” he started finally, his voice low in his throat as he tried to keep any composure he still had. These weren’t the sort of things he was used to talking about, and it was difficult.

Though, he had already made peace with the fact that he owed you an explanation, so he just had to swallow his pride and get it over with.

Whatever was going to happen, it was best to just get it out of the way now.

“As did I” you joked, not missing a beat as you tried to lighten the mood but Geralt only looked at you, those golden eyes of his silently begging you to just let him get through this.

...So you did.

You held your tongue, fiddling with your fingers as you let the man compose his thoughts. You understood that this was difficult for him but at least he was trying to tell you the truth.

It was more than you thought you’d get, frankly, when you came out here.

“I could not bear the idea of losing you without telling you the truth, and the truth is that I love you, Y/N” he admitted, his words shocking you more than even you were prepared for.

Until this moment, you could only think back in hazy memory to when those words had left his lips, but you had no confirmation that it was real. As soon as he spoke them into existence again, it confirmed what you’d believed all this time.

Geralt was in love with you.

“I was a coward, hiding behind what had happened but it doesn’t really matter. I have felt this way for quite some time” he shrugged, not once looking you in the eye the entire time.

He would never admit it, but Geralt was afraid. He was terrified of how you would react to his grand confession but that was quick to fade. You didn’t even have a chance to reject him really because you immediately found yourself in his arms, your lips pressed to his own.

It was a quick motion, something you shouldn’t have done, because as soon as you pulled away from him, the haze melted away from the two of you and you realized that you’d just really hurt yourself.

Though, Geralt beat you to it. “Your stitches” he warned, setting you down on the ground almost immediately after scooping you up.

The realization left you as quickly as it had came, but you didn’t really care. Frankly, you had more on your mind than a few torn sutures and from the tent, where Jaskier had been watching, all he saw was you, leaping into the white haired man’s arms again.

He was going to have to clean that all up, but it was best to just let the two of you have your moment for now.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you admitted your love to one another.

[plus-size-reader]

Wanting

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1631 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The reader compares herself to Yennefer, and Geralt being taken aback because he didn't know she had an image problem

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You and Geralt knew each other very well, all things considered. 

He had saved your life a number of times, and you had done the same in all the years that you’d traveled by his side. You were, by all accounts, a friend of the witcher, if he had one and he cared for you. 

However, he had never given you much more thought other than that. 

He traveled with you, and shared tales of battle with you, but there was nothing more than that…

Until Yennefer.

The appearance of the sorceress greatly bothered you and it wasn’t until Jaskier pointed out who strangely you had been acting that it ever registered in the white-haired man’s mind. 

“What’s crawled down her corset?” the bard teased, sitting down beside Geralt by the fire, gesturing over to where you were, leaning up against a tree. 

As best he could tell, you were picking at your boot laces with the tip of a dagger, far away from the rest of the search party. 

It was strange for you, but Geralt hadn’t given it much attention before now. After all, you had never really been all that sociable with strangers before. 

...Not that Jaskier was a stranger at this point in your travels. 

“Not a clue-you could go ask her yourself, bard” Geralt grumbled, missing the obvious chance to check on your himself, not that he cared. 

He had never opened his eyes enough to realize just how much he admired you, or how much he cared about your well being. 

For as long as he’d known you, you had always taken care of yourself without a problem, and you had made it very clear that you weren’t some damsel he had to save. 

If you had a problem, he was sure you’d figure it out.

...Because you always did. 

“Good idea” 

Geralt didn’t even really register that Jaskier had left his side until much later in the evening. You two had been sitting there against that tree for a few hours, talking in hushed whispers. 

“Sun down, time to turn in” he called, that same demanding tone in the man’s voice as his was of ordering you both to his side. You didn’t really want to stop talking to Jaskier, but you knew better than to argue. 

After all, Geralt had made it very clear you weren’t to be left alone with any of these thugs and criminals without him. 

The last thing you wanted was to deal with the witcher’s attitude. 

You had agreed to sleep a few feet away from both Geralt and Jaskier, as a compromise to sleeping between the two of them. The original offer was intended to keep you safe but you just felt smothered. 

Both men knew that you could protect yourself just fine. 

“What did you talk about?” Geralt wondered gruffly, making it clear that he wasn’t really asking. His eyes didn’t move from where you were a few feet away, but it was obvious that he was talking to Jaskier. 

...He was only ever talking to Jaskier. 

“Interested all of a sudden? Well grumpy, our fair lady is feeling rather ignored in the company of the witch” he shrugged, poking fun at the much larger man. 

It didn’t make sense at first. 

Sure, Geralt could comprehend what Jaskier was telling him, but it didn’t add up in his head. You had never been the jealous kind, and you had nothing to be jealous of in the first place, but that wasn’t the strangest part. 

The strangest part was that you cared. 

Geralt had never even thought about you having any sort of feelings for him, but that clearly wasn’t the case. 

“Yennefer? Why would Y/N care about Yen?” he questioned, his yellow eyes flicking to the other woman away from you for a moment. 

You two were opposites in a lot of ways, but similar in some too. In all accounts, Geralt had assumed that you two would become allies, rather than enemies. 

“Oh sweet Geralt, how blind you are” Jaskier grinned, finding himself more and more amused as the moments ticked by. He had never had the upper hand on the witcher like this. 

But for once, it would seem that the bard knew something that he didn’t, and it would be a lie to say that it didn’t feel nice. 

“You can ask her yourself, witcher” the smaller man grinned, using his earlier words against Geralt now. If he wanted to fully understand you, he would have to get the truth from your lips. 

That was just the way it was. 

~ 

It took hours…

Hours of complete and total silence, staring into the dark for Geralt to decide that he should actually talk to you about the issue at hand. 

He had no clue how it would go, but he wouldn’t be able to rest until he figured it out. 

After all, he wasn’t going to travel with the two of you with only Jaskier rambling to keep him company. He would surely go insane. 

“Geralt? What are you doing? Is everything alright?” you gasped, reaching down to retrieve your blade from your side as soon as you felt him, shaking you from sleep. 

You had no idea what he was doing, but you knew that he wouldn’t be waking you if it wasn’t important. 

“Jaskier told me something earlier, and I need to hear it from you” he muttered, not even bothering to keep his voice down. He couldn’t give a damn if he woke the others. 

He already knew Jaskier could sleep through anything, and in truth, the two of you were his only concern. 

Not that he would ever tell you that. 

“Jaskier says a lot of things, why couldn’t it wait till morning?” you groaned, wiping the sleep from your eyes before you sat up, realizing that you weren’t going to get to go back to sleep until you figured this out. 

Nothing ever kept the witcher up, so it had to be really eating him up. 

“Are you jealous of Yennefer?” 

It came out of nowhere, and was much more blunt than you’d been expecting at this hour, but you didn’t bother arguing. 

Of course you were. Everything she was, was what you’d always wanted to be. She was feminine and beautiful, while still holding her own with the men. 

You had worked your entire life to be a warrior like she was, respected and well known, but Geralt was the only one who’d ever even treated you as such. 

...Not to mention the very simple fact that you’d seen how Geralt looked at her, and men never looked at you that way. 

However, you didn’t exactly want to tell him that. 

“Of course not, don’t be a fool” you huffed, thinking about rolling over and going back to sleep. Geralt may have had a point but that didn’t mean you had to talk about it. 

You would get over it eventually. 

“What would I even have to be jealous of her for, witcher? The feelings you have for her? Or maybe her stunning beauty?” you asked, realizing in a single moment that he was challenging you. 

Geralt thought that he knew how you felt already, and you weren’t going to prove him wrong.

The Witcher only sat there for a moment, shocked that you went so quickly from calm to aggressive. 

“What are you talking about? I have no feelings for her” Geralt tried, assuring you as best he could. However, you had a feeling that he was lying to you. 

What sort of man wouldn’t recognize that sort of beauty? 

“You’re lying to me, I’ve seen the way you look at her” 

This time, the harshness in your voice was gone, leaving only pain and anguish. You had always loved Geralt and of course you did. He was the only person who ever gave you a chance, but you weren’t the sort of woman he was attracted to.

...And you couldn’t change that. 

“It doesn’t matter, we need our rest” you shrugged, turning away from him in upset. You weren’t going to have this discussion, especially not at this hour. 

It wouldn’t change anything between the two of you anyway. 

Now, Geralt wanted nothing more than to argue. He didn’t like the way the conversation had gone but you made your opinion on the matter abundantly clear. 

You weren’t in the mood to talk about this, now or ever.

~

Geralt had been thinking about your conversation for days now, at this point. 

He had never seen you acting this way in all the years that he’d known you but it had clearly bothered you. It had been driving him mad, but the worst part was that it wasn’t even the truth. 

Geralt had always had a sort of tension with Yennefer but it wasn’t something he would ever do anything about. 

It wasn’t real love, not like what she deserved, and not like what you deserved. 

In truth, he didn’t deserve either of you but that didn’t change the fact that Geralt couldn’t shake something in the pit of his stomach. It was something he’d been shoving down for what seemed like forever.

...It was a very obvious attraction to one of his oldest friends. 

Now, Geralt had no idea how to react in that moment, staring into the woods, actually contemplating the fact that he was in love with you. There was no way he actually felt that way, right? 

It didn’t make any sense. 

In all the time that he’d known you, you two had never once acknowledged the fact that there could be anything more between you...but he couldn’t help it. 

The Witcher wanted you, and he had no idea what to do. 

[plus-size-reader]

Jealousy pt.2

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1338 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: The silent treatment gets to be too much for both the princess and the witcher.

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Geralt couldn’t stop thinking about that night in the bar, staring at you as you waited for his answer. 

“What about you Witcher? Would you be a waste of my time?” 

It was quite the question, a question he couldn’t have answered if he wanted to but that wasn’t because there wasn’t an answer to give. It was that there was no good way to give it. 

Perhaps Geralt had felt something for you in that moment but as far as he was concerned, it was a moment of weakness. There was no way Geralt of Rivia truly cared for you. 

He knew that for certain. 

There was no way that he could go from despising you in one second to not being able to get you out of his head in the next. That had never happened to him before and he wasn’t about to let it right now. 

Instead, he simply chose to not acknowledge the comment at all. It was easier to ignore you entirely than to work out whatever it was he’d felt there, if anything at all. 

Not that it was easy considering the fact that he now had to listen to both you and Jaskier carrying on as you rode along the path. You were riding behind Geralt on Roach while the bard trailed along on foot and that couldn’t have been enough distance. 

Nothing would keep you two from laughing and joking at every turn...and to make it worse, Jaskier was now composing a song in your honor. 

At this point, It would be a miracle if you all made it to the next town without Geralt leaving one of you for dead in the woods. 

Now, Geralt was sure that if he buried that shred of something he felt for you deep down, he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore but that just wasn’t the case. 

It wasn’t the case because he wasn’t the only person who’d taken part in it. You knew just as well what the Witcher was doing, and while you weren’t sure if it was genuine or not, you knew it would be fun to play around a bit. 

Geralt was jealous.

You knew that much for sure, and while you had no clue what he was jealous over, you knew that it had something to do with Jaskier and that was enough. 

So, you had been playing it up since you realized and didn’t say anything in Geralt’s direction unless you absolutely had to. It was perfect, absolutely perfect

...For the first few days. 

However after that, you started to realize if maybe you had pushed the witcher too far. It had gotten to the point where he didn’t even look at you and it was starting to bother you. 

If you thought Geralt was bothersome before, you could have never imagined that having him not speaking to you would actually be worse. 

It was terrible, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

Maybe you had misread the signals that the witcher had given you in that bar, and he actually had no interest in any of you at all. After all, you hadn’t known each other for that long. 

You had never been around a witcher before, in all your life, and it was possible that maybe you just didn’t understand him as well as you thought you did. 

In any case, you had to figure out what he had going on if you were going to participate in this journey any farther. 

You waited until Jaskier had turned in for the night and then made your way over to where Geralt was waiting, sitting against a tree in the darkness. He didn’t sleep nearly as much as the rest of you did, so you knew where he’d be. 

Not that it made you any more confident in your approach as you walked over to him, the ground crunching slightly beneath your feet. 

“Good evening Princess” the comment came out of nowhere, startling you even though you knew where it was coming from. With his keen senses, Geralt couldn’t be snuck up on, but you couldn’t help but tense. 

That was the first thing he’d said to you in two days, and you were a little shocked at his strange use of your title. In some ways, it seemed more like an insult than anything. 

Though, it could have just been the way the word sounded rolling from his silver tongue.

“Hello witcher” you greeted, sitting down beside him in the grass without any care for the fabric of your skirt. Right now, it couldn’t have been further from your mind. 

As you sat, you felt as though you could feel your pulse as the blood hammered against your veins. You couldn’t think straight and you had no clue what was happening. 

Of all the people in all the realms that could have made you feel this way, why was this man the one who got you so flustered? There should have been nothing about him to intrigue you.

You had hated him all this time, cursing your father for making you leave your home in the company of such a buffoon but now you were mourning the words you’d once shared. 

No matter how unfriendly they may have been at the time. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” he wondered, trying to work out what you would be doing out of bed this late. After all, there was no reason for you to not get your beauty sleep knowing that you had two men looking after you. 

You didn’t have to worry about any sort of danger knowing the Witcher was here. 

If only he knew how much upset he had caused you in these last few days. 

You had gotten very little peace over him, wondering constantly over what it was that had gotten into him. Had you really been so bothersome to him that he couldn’t even look at you? 

It didn’t make any sense. 

“I guess not” you hummed, shrugging as best you could as you thought it over. You kept your eyes straight ahead, watching the way the stream glistened in the moonlight. 

It would have been beautiful if you weren’t in this current position. However, there was nothing you could do to rectify this situation without the cooperation of your traveling companion. 

“Is Jaskier not awake to entertain you?” he suggested, shocking you with his boldness. 

It was quite strange, all things considered, but not for the reason you may have thought. After all this time with him refusing to even speak to you, that was the first thing on his mind. 

Why would he care?

“He is not, though, why would I choose him when you’re so very entertaining yourself?” you jabbed, your tone sweet though your words dripped with venom. 

After all this time, the witcher was going to blame you for this, even though he had clearly initiated the entire event on his own. 

Geralt laughed, the deep sound under his breath though you couldn’t have misplaced it. This was the sort of thing he would have expected from you a few days prior but not right now. 

It felt like things had changed between the two of you.

“I just assumed you preferred his company” he allowed, thinking back to the flirty comments you two shared and all those little jokes that he wasn’t a part of. 

It just seemed to follow that you would choose him if given the choice between the two of them. 

“As strange as it is, my dear Witcher, I wouldn’t trade your company for anyone else's”

For you, it was a bit more of a confession than you had intended but neither you nor the witcher seemed to mind. In fact, it was only going to make it that much sweeter if and when you decided to be more open about the feelings you shared. 

Though, that may have taken a bit more time before either of you was ready for that. 

[plus-size-reader]

Savior

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1262 words

Warnings: may be TRIGGERING as it mentions abuse (not too bad, but keep it in mind)

Summary: Geralt saving a thrall from an abusive brothel

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Geralt of Rivia was no stranger to a brothel. 

In fact, he had visited almost all of the establishments that he came across in his travels...but never had he seen one worse than the one he was currently standing in. 

The floors were dirty, and the entire building was about to fall in on itself but that wasn’t going to stop him from spending the night here. Brothels were, more or less, the only place a man like him could spend a night. 

It was the only way to be off the road, not to mention that Roach also got an enclosed stall for the night. 

There were a lot of obvious problems with this place, but the witcher didn’t have a genuine issue with it until he was brought to his room...where he met you. 

At first, everything was fine. 

Of course, that illusion all came crashing down as soon as he reached out to touch you, his abrasive touch nudging your gown down to the floor. You winced ever so slightly as the large man closed in near you, which was odd…

Geralt had to admit, he had never gotten that reaction before. 

Though, that was far from his mind as soon as he saw the bruises that marked your body. 

Geralt often had bruises and scars of his own but the two of you were in a very different line of work. There was no reason for a woman to ever look this way, and the very idea made his jaw tighten. 

He couldn’t believe that someone would ever lay their hand on you and immediately, everything he had been thinking previously melted away. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, your voice small in the large room, even considering the close proximity of your two bodies.  

You were worried that he found you unpleasant, or that he didn’t like what you looked like. It wasn’t the first time you’d gotten that reaction but usually men were very clear about what they were looking for before this point. 

They either asked for you by name or they avoided you completely. 

Still, that didn’t make it any nicer to be surveyed by this stranger. You just wished that he would get on with whatever he was going to do so that you could get out of here. 

If you took too long, you would get in trouble. 

“I should be asking you the same thing? What is all this?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet as well, doing his best not to startle you. 

Geralt couldn’t imagine anyone ever doing this to themselves. It was clear to him that you hadn’t put these marks on your own body, so he didn’t want to make you feel any more unsafe than you already did. 

Clearly, someone had been mistreating you and he was going to find out who before the night was over. 

However, you found yourself even more confused than he was. Normally men ignored the obvious marks all over you and just focused on getting what they paid for but Geralt wasn’t going anything of the sort. 

In fact, since he’d noticed them, the witcher had put even more distance between the two of you. 

...It was odd. 

“Sometimes we get punished for not following the rules, it was my own fault” you assured, saying the same thing you always did on the rare occasion that someone asked. 

The brothel owner had saved your life and gave you some opportunity to make a living, so you didn’t want anyone to find out how badly he treated you. You didn’t want him to get in trouble, but at this point, you almost wondered if anyone would care. 

A bruised up whore wasn’t exactly the biggest problem in most people’s lives. 

Though, Geralt was finding that not to be the case. 

In fairness, it was odd for him considering the fact that he often just ignored the pain of others unless he was being paid...but he couldn’t do that with you. 

He had never seen a woman treated like this and he hated everything about it. 

Perhaps the worst part about it was the fact that you seemed almost sorry for being caught, as if you’d done something wrong. You didn’t even realize that you shouldn’t be treated this way. 

“You listen to me, this is not your fault. Would you be able to show me the man who did this to you? I can make it stop” he assured, finding himself getting more and more protective over you as the moments passed. 

He could hardly take his thoughts away from finding whoever had done this and unscrewing their head from their neck. 

However, you shook your head hurriedly at the very idea of that. There was no way that you could do that, because once this handsome stranger left, you would certainly be beaten to death. 

...It wasn’t an option. 

“You cannot, no one can” you shrugged, stepping back away from the witcher, the very idea of what he was proposing terrifying you. 

Though, Geralt had already made up his mind. He was not going to leave you here to be treated like this. No man in his right mind would. 

The trouble was that if you weren’t going to let him kill the man who had done this, he was going to have to find another way to get you out of this situation. 

There had to be another way…

And perhaps there was. 

If Geralt found a way to get you to agree to travel with him, then no one would ever treat you this way ever again. No one would dare lay a hand on you with the witcher by your side. 

Getting you to leave here was the only way that he was going to be going, that was the deal. 

“Alright, well would you be interested in coming with me? It’s no palace but it would be a lot safer than here...I can promise you that” he tried, his voice no more than a slight hum. 

You were shocked at the offer. 

You had only ever known this place, your earliest memories were here, but there wasn’t a moment that you didn’t dream about getting out. 

It was the only thing that you ever thought about but now that the moment was here, you were scared. 

Was it a good idea to take some strange man up on his offer? You didn’t know him from a stranger but on the other hand, you had never met a witcher before. 

You knew that what he was claiming was true. 

What really made you feel safe though, was the fact that in all the time that he had been here, Geralt had yet to lay a hand on you. He hadn’t touched you, he hadn’t even glanced down at your body-since the moment he saw those darkened speckles all over you. 

They covered you like the spots of a leopard and the idea that you could get away from all that was just too good to pass up, even if it was somewhat foolish. 

With the witcher was as good a place as any. 

“Alright, If you’re sure that I would not be a bother” you decided finally, feeling for once that you had actually made the right choice. 

You knew that wherever Geralt was going, it would be better than where you were and when you laid your head down that night, cuddled up to the white-haired Butcher of Blaviken, you finally felt safe. 

[plus-size-reader]

Stubborn

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1575 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Geralt getting paid by a king to take his daughter far away from their war ridden country, though she is determined to make it more difficult than it should be 

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You didn’t care at all for the false promises of the Witcher. 

Your kingdom was under fire, your father couldn’t handle the allegations against him, and you knew that with any luck, the entire kingdom would burn to the ground in days. 

However, you intended to go down with the ship. 

There was no way that you were going to just give up and flee, not when your people needed you. Though, your father had no intention of giving you the choice. 

He had reached out to someone who he thought would be able to keep you alive. He did it for you, but you had been kicking and screaming since he informed you of your inevitable leaving. 

How dare he suggest such a thing? 

You were a princess, soon to be queen of your people, and he expected you to just leave them in their time of need. You would not be doing anything of the sort. 

No one in their right mind would. 

Though, you didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. You knew it, your father knew it, and most of all, this brooding stranger seemed to know it too. 

You scoffed, watching the gathering in the courtyard below you. Your father, the King for God’s sake, was standing in the center of it all, across from some white-haired stranger. 

Some brutish looking man that you would rather die than go with. 

“How dare he, sell me out like a sow” you grumbled, running your hands over your face in anguish as you tried to compose yourself. 

You could hardly contain the anger that was boiling beneath your skin, but a princess should never let her enemy see her that way. She should never let her people see her that way, and you knew that they would…

If you didn’t get it under control. 

The very idea of it made you ill but before you could convince yourself otherwise, you made your way down the stairs of the tower, until your feet found the cobblestone of the street. 

They were waiting for you, you knew that but part of you wondered how long they would wait. 

If you didn’t show up, would they send out the hounds to track you down? Would your father stoop that low just to make sure that he could assure your safety? 

After all, that was what he thought he was doing.

However, your father had no idea that you would actually be safe in the arms of that man. The King had no guarantee that he wouldn’t just drop you off in some small town and never look back. 

It was foolish at best, but you were not one to argue. You had tried that and it got you nowhere. 

So, you decided to play the role that your father wanted you to play. You decided that being the damsel in distress was your only chance at the upper hand, and you were going to use that to your advantage. 

It was the fatal flaw of men-and your father was no exception to the rule, crown or not. 

“There she is! We were beginning to fear that you would never come down, my darling girl” your father bellowed, a warning glint in his eyes though he smiled. 

Getting you out of this place was his only choice if he wanted to make sure that you were protected, and he really thought this was the only way. 

You couldn’t fault him for that, though you really wanted to. His fear had turned him into someone that you didn’t recognize and it was hard not to blame him for that. 

“Of course father” you hummed, bowing your head down in submission, though every cell in your body was screaming for you to retreat back into your room and never leave. 

You weren’t weak. 

You didn’t need some stranger to keep you alive, but the time for arguing had passed. 

“Well then my dear, this is Geralt of Rivia, he is going to take you far away from here” he introduced, gesturing to the other man, standing in front of him with his shoulders high. 

You had heard that name before, in passing at some point, but you weren’t sure when. 

You couldn’t place it. 

One thing you did know was that you would not be going anywhere with him. They would have to drag you out of your kingdom by your ankles if they thought that you would. 

...Your father couldn’t really expect you to agree to this. 

The man was a brute and he was obviously just relying on the King’s fear to make a bit of silver, but you weren’t going to be a part of it. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Geralt of Rivia. My name is Princess Y/N, of the Black Keep, but I’m sure that you knew that already” you chidded, your voice a tad aggressive toward the end, though you masked it with a sweet smile. 

He only nodded, telling you that he did, in fact, already know that. 

At the very least, he was competent...which was more than you could say for most of the men that your father had introduced you to over the years. 

He seemed to have his head on his shoulders, but that opinion all changed when you caught sight of the amulet around his neck. 

It was a large, circular pendant on the end of a long chain. A pendant in the shape of a wolf in front of a full moon, hammered down into a thin disk. 

...You knew exactly what it was. 

“You’re a witcher?” you wondered, your tone heavily accusatory as you eyed him. No one had said anything about this savior of yours being a bloodthirsty mutant. 

All your life you had heard stories of witchers and the terrible things they did, and yet, your father was fully prepared to hand you over to one. 

You could hardly believe it. 

“You’re sending me away with a witcher?” you shouted, turning your attention around to your father, sitting atop his horse to bring him closer to the height of the man in front of him. 

Normally, you would have never looked at the king in that manner, let alone spoke to him in that way but you couldn’t help it. 

Before he was the king, he was your father and yet, he wasn’t acting like it. 

“You will not address me in such a way! Remember your place” he countered, raising his voice at you in a way that could only be expected. However, it only spurred on the fire that you were feeling deep inside. 

How dare he?

Your father, the man that you were supposed to be able to trust with your life, was fully aware that he was sending you away with one of the most dangerous men anywhere. Not only that, but he now had the audacity to treat you this way?

You couldn’t believe it. 

“Fine. Come now Witcher” you ordered, in the sort of manner that could only be expected from a woman who had ordered people around all her life. 

You didn’t even hesitate to stomp past him, acting as if you were going to walk right out of your own kingdom on foot. It was ridiculous, but for some reason, he almost wanted to comply. 

“I said, come on Witcher!” you huffed, stopping your stomping just long enough to gesture to your side. You pointed at the ground as if you were ordering around a dog. 

...You must have been joking. 

Geralt found himself looking back at the king, as if to ask if you were being serious to which the older man only shrugged. He had been dealing with your tantrums long enough, so he wasn’t about to volunteer. 

In that respect, you were the witcher’s problem now. 

“Do you really intend on walking out of here?” Geralt asked, his deep voice flooding your ears as he closed the space between the two of you. 

You still had your back to him, but you could tell that he was close to you, too close and you didn’t want it. If you were really going to go with this man, he had to learn boundaries. 

“If I have to” 

You were so stubborn, and so angry but you couldn’t help it. If he was in your position, perhaps Geralt would be reacting the same way. 

...Though he seriously doubted it. 

“Y/N” 

You weren’t sure what it was about the simple word that stopped your movements. Perhaps it was the way that he said it, with that deep gravelly tone, with which he said everything. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d called you by your first name, and not by your title. 

In any case, Geralt had gotten what he wanted. He had managed to halt your tantrum and that was all he could hope for at this point. 

“I have a horse, if you’d calm down for a moment” he pleaded, clearly more inconvenienced than upset. He had no desire to reason with a spoiled little rich girl. 

However, you were going to go with him, even if he had to carry you out of this place…

That was what he was being paid for.

Though, as Geralt watched your face contort in frustration, he wondered if this entire situation would be worth a few gold pieces.  

[plus-size-reader]

Jealousy

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1166 words

Warnings:none 

Summary: Traveling with Jaskier and Geralt. Jaskier is a huge flirt and won’t stop trying to charm you...until Geralt gets jealous

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The deal was simple.

Your father decided that the best way to transport you, a princess in your land, to another city state, was by hiring the Witcher to babysit you.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous.No one who knew anything of you would bother to stop you on the road, though it made some semblance of sense that if you traveled by carriage-you would be robbed.

Common thieves didn’t care much about who they were robbing, it was just about what they could steal.

In that regard, you had a lot to lose.

Though as soon as you met Geralt of Rivia, you went back to the old way of thinking. You would rather be robbed on the road by some highwaymen than ever travel with such a rude, stubborn beast of a man.

He was far too much to handle.

Never in all your days had you met a man so disrespectful. It made no sense that he would be that way, not after all the things he’d seen. You thought that a man that cultured would at least know how to speak to people.

“Witcher please, we’ve been sitting in this bar for hours. Surely there must be something of value here” you sighed, the two of you had been sitting here for hours and nothing had come of it quite yet.

You didn’t know what he was waiting for but it was terribly boring.

This was the first time that you’d ever been out of your father’s kingdom and so far, the outside world was more boring than just sitting in your room. However, Geralt ignored your complaints.

He didn’t care much for your whining.

As far as he was concerned, it wouldn’t matter if he dropped you off tomorrow or days from now...nothing would come soon enough. Nothing he did would ever change the fact that you were nothing more than a spoiled little girl.

However, as if an answer to your pleas-another man approached the table.

As best you could tell, he had just been booed out of a performance.

He may not have been much but if nothing else, he had to have been more entertaining than the current company you were being forced to keep.

“And who may you be?” You interjected. The men had only been talking in the witcher’s direction at first but at a certain point-you got bored of listening. Listening had never been your strong suit, especially not as you were used to being the one talking.

You could already tell that this new man was more talkative than the white-haired abomination you’d been traveling with. You only hoped that he would also better company.

Geralt kept you alive, but other than that, he wasn’t doing much for you. You needed someone to entertain you, and perhaps this goofy bard was just the ticket.

“Jaskier” he smiled, bowing ever so theatrically in your direction. Where you came from, there were no men like him. There were men, of course there were, but most of them were pig-headed and vile.

Most of them were princes, men that your father hoped you would marry but you never paid them much mind. Instead, you chose to spend time alone more than anything...ignoring the foolish men he’d drop at your feet.

You didn’t care for any of them, but none of them had ever approached you in such a comical way. They had always wanted something from you, something that you just weren’t willing to give.

None of them ever amused you.

“I am Princess Y/N of the Skellige Isles” you smiled, standing from the table as best you could in this wretched dress. The corset was tied so tightly that you could hardly breathe in it, led alone move.

The man returned your smile, reaching out to take your hand in his own. Slowly, he brought your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss over the back of your knuckles. “Lovely to meet you”

Jaskier was charming, and very friendly but nothing got you more than the way Geralt’s gaze burned into you when you smiled back at the second man.

You had never thought that he looked at you in any way other than with distaste and annoyance. You doubted the Witcher even had feelings for anything or anyone in the first place.

However, you had seen that look before.

You had seen that look shining in the eyes of many people in your life. In the eyes of the women you passed around the courtyard as they eyed your jewelry and gowns. In the eyes of men when they glanced at your mother and father together at feasts…

It was jealousy.

You would know it anywhere but you had no idea why Geralt would be jealous of some god awful bar entertainer. It made no sense to you, but you knew better than to think about it too much.

...The witcher didn’t have feelings. Everyone in all the realms knew it but it didn’t matter.

Right now, all you were focused on was having a good time with this new man, the object of your current attention. “I’m horribly thirsty, do you think you could get me an ale?” you purred, your eyes sparkling as you looked at Jaskier.

You could have easily gotten it yourself but you didn’t want to. You wanted him to get it for you, just to prove that he would-and of course he would. You had never met a man in your life that would refuse you.

Though, as soon as the second man was gone, the Witcher turned his attention to you. “You shouldn’t waste your time Y/N, he’s a loser at best”

It was the first time that he’d addressed you using your real name. Usually with Geralt, he always called you ‘Princess’ or ‘Girl’ anything to avoid calling you by the name your parents gave you.

“And what are you Witcher? Would you be a waste of my time?” you wondered teasingly, resting your elbows on the table with your head resting in your palms. You were looking at him with those eyes, those eyes that sparkled like gems in the sunlight, and it was almost too much to bear.

He knew that you were being cruel and that you were only kidding but part of him wanted to agree. Never in his life had he been more captivated by human than when he knew you.

However, his admiration toward you had not been instantaneous. At first, he thought you nothing more than a stupid little girl with too much money and too much to whine about.

In some ways, he still held that opinion, only now, he also wanted to grip  you tight and never let you go. Perhaps it had something to do with that silly bard and his obvious attraction toward you.

Whatever the case, of the few emotions the Witcher could feel, jealousy was clearly one of them.

[plus-size-reader]

Unlike Any Other

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1706 words

Warnings:none 

Summary:  Reader is a Cintran sell sword, hired by the queen. (Loosely based on Episode.4)

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You did your best not to ask questions because asking questions wasn’t part of your job.

Your job was to stay quiet, hold your sword, and kill whatever the queen wanted dead. That was the whole description and you lived by that, nothing more than a sword to the crown.

...No exceptions.

At least not until today.

They told stories of the witcher all of Cintra but in a lot of ways, you weren’t sure that you believed them. You had met many men who thought themselves good fighters but once you went up against them, they always fell first.

You wouldn’t believe the claims of the witcher until you saw them for yourself, with your own two eyes.

“Cheer up sell-sword, it’s a party” one of the passing lords grumbled, bumping your shoulder with his own as he moved by you. You were wearing full plate armor, with a helmet and everything...luckily.

Or else they would have seen the absolute disdain on your face.

You despised all of them but you couldn’t exactly make a scene during the ball. It was bad enough as it was, without you having to spill blood all over the marble flooring. So, you swallowed your annoyance and kept your eyes on the scene in front of you which was quickly interrupted by quite the commotion.

As best you could tell, the Witcher had arrived.

You had no idea why they would get so excited over a simple man but as best you could tell, he may not have been a man at all. You didn’t know what he was, but it didn’t really matter.

you had no doubt that you would eventually have the opportunity to see it for yourself...all you had to do was wait.

~

Clearly, the ball didn’t stay dull and boring for that long. The Urcheon of Erlenwald, or so he called himself had caused quite a storm when he arrived in the court. It was an unwelcome intrusion for so many, but not for you.

You had no problem with a bit of excitement.

Perhaps the queen would order you to kill this stranger, or maybe she would welcome him. Either way, your sword was going to get some kind of use-you could just tell. After doing this for so long, you were pretty good at it.

You could practically feel a fight swelling in the air. It was almost as if the whole room was holding its breath, and you, for one, couldn’t wait for the exhale.

It all happened rather quickly, like a bubble just waiting to burst.

The queen stood behind you, clearly just itching to stab whoever he was in the face but she would be given no such service. Tonight, she was only the queen so if anyone was going to kill anyone else, it would be you.

“Stand back lioness, I’ll take care of this” you assured, reaching behind you to grasp the sword attached to your back. She had ordered the man be killed, and so he would be. It was as simple as that.

Or so you thought.

You swung your sword gracefully, sure that it would hit its target with complete certainty but were met with only the clean clashing of metal against your own.

You were rightfully shocked for a few seconds before realizing what had happened. The witcher, Geralt of Rivia, had interrupted your sword stroke in the middle-keeping you for carrying out the execution you had been ordered.

He had some kind of problem with this creature being killed, which didn’t make any sense to you. As far as the stories had you believe, the witcher killed monsters like this one, so why was this any different?

Without missing a beat, you moved quickly, doing your best to counter his defense. It worked at first but the witcher moved just as fast.

You had never seen a man as swift with a sword as you were.

“He’s been cursed” he repeated, through gritted teeth as if that mattered. He didn’t seem to understand what you were, though there wasn’t much of a difference between the two of you.

However, none of that meant anything at the moment.

Your armor was far too bulky for the kind of combat the witcher required so you yanked off your helmet, tossing it away without a thought.

It was, by far, the first time that anyone in this kingdom had seen your face but you didn’t care about that at the moment. All you could think about was beating the witcher and killing that thing to boot.

However, the rest of the kingdom wasn’t as dismissive as you were about the reveal.

They just  assumed that you were a man, as they were, and that was the whole point. In fact, only the queen knew that you were a woman. She was the only one who believed in you, your gender aside.

She had seen your abilities in action, and trusted no one more when it came to protecting her and her family.

You knew that most of the common people wouldn’t feel the same if they knew that you were a woman. They wouldn’t trust your skill and power as much if they knew the truth.

“You fight well, but I still won’t let you kill him” Geralt grumbled, acting as if that was all he had to worry about. You thought it was ridiculous but something about the way he said it stopped you in your tracks.

There was a reason he didn’t want this creature dead.

You almost asked him why he cared so much but in a split second, without a single thought, you nodded. The queen would have your head for this, but it didn’t matter anymore.

You knew, deep down, that you couldn’t beat the man in front of you and you weren’t even sure that you wanted to.

So, rather than waste your energy fighting the witcher, you turned away from him, leaning against his back to fight off the queens guards, who would now want to kill the both of you.

…

This had been, quite possibly, the longest day of your entire life.

From fighting a witcher, to nearly killing a cursed man, to watching him become cured right before your eyes. You wouldn't believe all the things that you’d been forced to deal with in a matter of hours.

However, you knew one thing for sure.

Wherever the witcher was going, whatever he was planning to do, you would be going with him.

“No”

You huffed, he was being so terribly difficult about all of this.

“You cost me my paying position witcher, so I’ll be going with you so that I can make more coin” you shrugged, upset that he was being this way. He could have gotten you killed with the stunt that he pulled.

Now it was Geralt’s turn to huff. You talked so much, much more than he would have assumed based on how reserved you had been when you first met.

“Fine, get your things...we need to get moving” he grumbled, waving you off like a pest that he could just usher away at his earliest convenience. However, you didn’t have a care in the world for how he treated you.

All you cared about was the fact that he had given you what you wanted. You were going to finally get out of Cintra, after all this time.

You hurriedly made your way to your chamber, changing out of your armor into something more unsuspecting and feminine. Under the protection of the queen, you were free to masquerade as a man but on the road, you would be much more dangerous hidden under a meek, disceving gown.

If you ran into trouble, people were more likely to see you as a damsel in distress, giving you the chance to slit their throat or stab them clean through.

You thought that it was a clever strategy, though Geralt clearly didn’t get that air as soon as he saw you.

“What are you wearing?” he grumbled, in that gravely, unwavering tone that you already knew so well. You shrugged, glancing down at the wine red fabric that dressed your plump frame.

It wasn’t the nicest gown in the world but it was the only one that you owned. Besides, you had always thought that it showed off your curves quite nicely, if you had cared about that kind of thing.

“A dress? Aren’t you familiar Witcher?” you teased, doing a slight little spin. You were laughing at him, he knew it but he didn’t say anything. INstead, he just watched you...almost as if he was trying to figure you out.

He had never, in all his lifetimes, seen a woman like you.

After you had finished with your little charade, you waltzed right over to where Roach was tied up to a nearby tree. The beautiful horse whinnied, nuzzling into your touch when you reached out for him.

“He yours?” you wondered, turning back to Geralt, only to find an almost strangled look on his face. Not only had you just touched Roach and you still had your hand but the horse had also accepted your presence pretty well.

It didn’t make any sense.

One thing was for sure, you were a woman unlike any other.

*Bonus: *

Geralt had agreed to let you ride alongside him on Roach, but had drawn the line at letting you hold the lead. Roach may not have hated you, but that didn’t mean that you got to hold the reigns.

That would be going too far.

You thought that you would be riding in silence but after a bit of time, Geralt decided to break the silence.

“It’s a nice dress” he grumbled finally, so quiet that you almost didn’t catch it. It might not have been the best compliment you had ever received but coming from Geralt, it was quite a step.

You just smiled, leaning forward ever so slightly to press a kiss to his cheek, before turning your attention to the words. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that the witcher had a soft spot for you.

[plus-size-reader]

The White Wolf

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1412 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Going to the ball of Cintra with jaskier and Geralt

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“Jaskier?” you called, knocking on the door of the chamber.

The men at the bar had told you that he would be here, with the man you were searching for.

They called him ‘The Witcher’ and you very much wanted to meet him. Not to mention that Jaskier had asked you to accompany him to the ball at Cintra. The two of you had been friends for many years, and there was no way you would ever attempt to go to a place like that without him.

You hated going to parties like the one that would be held tonight.

“Are you in there or not? I don’t have all night” you groaned, knocking again. It was clear that you weren’t in the mood to play these games. However, you weren’t prepared for what you would see when the door finally opened.

In a washtub in the center of the room sat a man with hair as pale as his flesh and rippling muscles, you knew that you were in the right place. However, before you could get too distracted by his frame, you turned your attention to the other man you had been searching for.

“I feared they had already killed you” you joked, wrapping the bard in a gentle hug. You hadn’t seen jaskier in quite some time, though in this moment, that didn’t matter.

You two had been friends for so long that distance and time no longer affected the bond you had. Instead, you snapped back into the same dynamic as soon as you saw each other again.

“Please, no one dare kill me” Jaskier assured, a joking tone in his own voice. He knew it wasn’t true but it was better than the truth.

If any of those noble lords found him, at the ball or anywhere else, they were liable to tear the small man limb-from-limb.

The very idea of it turned your attention from your friend to the basin again. “This must be the Witcher I’ve heard so much about” You grinned, a wicked glint in your eyes.

You had always been rather flirty with all different kinds of people but something about the witcher presented a new challenge you had never encountered before.

“I’m Y/N, pleasure to make your acquaintance” you purred, leaning over the front of the tub to offer him a hand.You half expected him to ignore it but to your surprise, he took your hand in his own and shook it a bit.

It was, by no means, a normal handshake but it was more than you had been expecting.

“Geralt of Rivia” he grumbled, clearly bothered by the intrusion. However, he didn’t give it much thought seeing as you seemed much less preoccupied with your friend than him. “I know who you are” you winked, standing back up from the kneeling position you had been in and turning your back to him, looking at Jaskier again.

If he wanted company this evening, he was going to have to get ready, but so were you. There was no way you would be going to the ball of Cintra in what you were wearing right now.

“I’ll see you two darlings in a few hours” you excused, pressing a light kiss to the side of Jaskier’s face in goodbye. “Goodbye Witcher” you waved, your hips swinging as you made your way out of the room.

You had to find something to make some kind of impression on this dashing Witcher.

…

A few hours went by before you were actually ready to go to the ball of cintra but by the time rolled around, you were more than ready. Your skirt fell down to your ankles and your corset was pulled so tight that you barely speak without gasping.

It hurt, of course it did, but you had always enjoyed the slight strain. It reminded you that you were doing something you wouldn’t normally do. Besides, you knew you looked incredible, so it was well worth it.

Jaskier spoke first when they arrived, as he so often did.

“Perfect, you look stunning” he praised, pressing a kiss to your cheek in greeting before spinning you around dramatically. He always liked to see your skirts swirl around your legs as you turned.

You smiled, silently thanking your friend for the compliment before once again noticing the Witcher.

He stayed back, not making a grand effort to assert himself into the conversation like you so wished he would, but that wasn’t a problem. You had no issue with being the one to make the first move.

Especially not in this case.

“I may faint tonight, can I count on you to catch me if I do?” you asked, gesturing down to the corset held tight to your middle. It was clear that you were joking but neither man seemed to mind.

In fact, it seemed like it was hard to get a rise out of the man...no matter how hard you tried. Not that you cared, you would find a way to get his attention before the night was over.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it” he answered. He rarely changed his tone as he spoke, keeping everything even and monotone in the most sexy way. You doubted that there wasn’t a woman alive that wasn’t attracted to him.

The problem would be getting him to feel the same pull in your direction.

You didn’t even know if the Witcher had a care in the world or not. In fact, there was very little known about his kind at all.

However, that wasn’t going to stop you from trying to find out.

Almost immediately after you arrived, Jaskier went off to play for the court while you and Geralt ended up more toward the side. You were moreso acting as backup just in case he got into some trouble.

Other than that, you just had to wait for the night to be over.

...So, you might as well find the best use for the extra time.

“They tell stories of you, y’know?  They say that the Witcher feels no emotion...is that true, Geralt?” you hummed, doing your best to seem inconspicuous as you leaned against the marble.

You were both here to play the same role, in different ways.

Jaskier needed some kind of cover in the event that he ran into a man whose husband he ravaged at some point in the past. Up until this point, it had been a job that fell solely to you but you weren’t complaining.

At least now, you wouldn’t have to charm whatever horrible man approached your oldest friend looking for a fight...as you’d had to do in the past.

Geralt was doing a pretty good job at scaring them off all on his own.

He grumbled lightly at your question, acting as if that was some kind of answer. Most people would have taken the hint and left but you weren’t most people. You thought there was something charming about his general distaste for humanity.

“Is there not a single emotion that you feel?” you continued, reaching over slowly to take his goblet of ale from his hand. It was a bit of a power move but the witcher made no motion to stop you. Instead, he watched as you brought the cup to your lips, tasting the sweet wine it held.

It was a different kind of interaction than he was used to but something about you interested him.

You had this odd sort of self confidence and character that most people lacked. You were so captivating, whether you meant to be or not.

“I wouldn’t know. What do you think?” he wondered, putting the ball back in your court by taking the goblet back. He was playing whatever little game you had set up and it was going to be fun for you...even if he didn’t really care.

The white wolf was a new and exciting addition to your otherwise bland existence and you weren’t going to let him pass you by without making an impression. “I do believe that it’s only a matter of time before I find out” you winked, turning toward the dance floor without another word.

You had never really been one for dancing but the idea of getting the Witcher to dance with you was too good to refuse.

...And as much as he knew he would regret it, Geralt followed you onto the dance floor.

[plus-size-reader]

Dragon’s Blood

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1159 words

Warnings: none 

Summary:  Geralt and Jaskier encounter a group on the road and the witcher gets more than he bargained for in the first place. 

(I can’t decide how I feel about this, I’m still getting a feel for Geralt’s character. Let me know what you think)

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You had been hunting with Borch Three Jackdaws for quite some time, looking for the green dragon but you never thought that the witcher would become a part of it.

You ate, quietly as you listened to the conversation. Borch spoke quickly, doing his very best to convince these two new travellers that they should join the valiant effort. However, the longer he went through the reasons for the search, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

No man in his right mind would ever join a suicide mission such as this, and if they did, they were fools.

“And who is this?” the second man, Jaskier asked, turning his attention to you. The attention of the entire table followed, as Borch laughed. You hadn’t said a word in all the time that you’d been here.

As far as they knew, you didn’t even have your tongue.

“That’s Y/N, I raised her” Borch allowed, giving you a slight smile as he nudged you with his elbow. What he said was true, but you didn’t acknowledge it. Your parents had been killed when you were a child and he took you in, providing that you accompanied him on his adventures.

At first it was tedious, annoying even when you were young but as you grew older, you turned into quite the warrior in your own right. You enjoyed the hiking, and searching for monsters, but at this point-it was in your blood.

You nodded, confirming that he wasn’t lying to them but said nothing else. Sometimes there was no use for additional words, and this was one instance where they weren’t needed.

You had nothing to say to any of these strangers.

It stayed that way for a few days into travel. You didn’t have much to say, and didn’t waste your breath until everything truly went to hell. The dwarves had thought up a clever little shortcut, a new way to the green dragon but it didn’t really work.

...at least, not as far as you were concerned.

Your father had fallen to his death, leaving you all alone in this miserable world for the first time in your life and you were lost. You had never had to live without him, you had never had to be anywhere without him but you didn’t have much of a choice now.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked, interrupting the peace and quiet you had where you were sitting. You had specifically chosen a spot far enough away from the rest of the group so that they couldn’t bother you.

Right now, you needed to be alone but clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

You groaned, turning your head to find the witcher standing there, staring at you with that look on his face. You didn’t know him all that well, but in the few days you’d been traveling together, you had seen that look far too many times.

“I only wish to be left alone, can you not do that?” you spit, your fists tightening at your side. It wasn’t bad enough that you had lost the only person in the world that you actually cared for, now you couldn’t have any time to yourself.

They wouldn’t leave you be.

“In my experience, it isn’t wise to leave the grieving to their own devices” he shrugged, sitting down beside you in the dirt making it painfully clear that he had no intention of leaving.

If anything, he was going to stay for even longer just to prove a point.

“What makes you think I’m grieving witcher? Borch wasn’t my real father” you huffed, spitting out the words, even though they hurt you desperately. He had raised you from an infant, so nothing could be farther from the truth.

However, you needed him to believe the lie you were telling. You couldn’t risk them finding out the truth about what he was, or what you were in the first place. It could be dangerous for all of you.

Dragons were a beauty that needed to be preserved and protected so when Borch finally told you what he was, you didn’t argue. He had still raised you, in his human form and you considered him family...no matter what he really was.

“Perhaps he wasn’t, but he was your family” he shrugged. He had learned a long time ago that family didn’t end with blood. In fact, sometimes you found family in the most unlikely of places.

-As he had.

“I thought Witcher’s didn’t have feelings” you observed, happily taking the attention off of you in favor of asking something of him. You didn’t want to talk about you anymore, even if your father wasn’t dead...you still had to mourn as if he was.

He huffed, clearly unhappy with this turn of events but he couldn’t do much about it. The only chance he had of not answering was to take it and put it back on you.

“And I thought you didn’t speak” he countered after only a moment of thinking. It was a weak excuse but it seemed to do the trick because you laughed. It was a rather small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than anyone else had gotten out of you since you’d met. It was a start.

“I didn’t. When my parents died, I stopped talking all together but Borch managed to change that, at least a little bit as I got older” you allowed, suddenly feeling much closer to the witcher than you’d planned.

There was something about him, some calm caring that drew you in, even if you tried to fight it. He pretended to be hard and unfeeling but you could see right through it. You’d met enough liars on the road to spot a true heart when you saw one.

He may not have thought much of himself but that didn’t change the facts.

“You tried to save him, I saw it and I’d like to thank you for that” you decided, finally letting your guard down enough to turn toward him fully. The Witcher was a lot closer to you than you initially thought, meaning that your legs touched his own when you moved-not that either of you shifted away from the contact.

There was a certain calm around Geralt of Rivia, a level of comfort that you hadn’t felt before. It was new and alarming of course, but you did your best not to fight it. If anyone could help Borch protect his real family, it was the witcher.

“I’m only sorry I couldn’t” he smiled, his eyes dropping from your own to the dirt below his boots.

He would find out the truth in due time, but not before your father was ready for that to happen. One thing was for certain, and that was that the witcher was a soul unlike any other that you’d ever encountered in your travels.

[plus-size-reader]

Brands of a Warrior

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1480 words

Warnings: none

Summary:  Asking Geralt to tell you about his scars. 

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It was no secret that Geralt of Rivia, the famous Witcher had been through quite a lot in his life.

There was a lot to go through but nothing mattered to you more than the man himself. You didn’t care about the stories they told of him or the things they thought the knew.

No one knew the white-haired man like you did.

Still, Geralt was a man who had lived many lives. He was much older than you and had seen things that you couldn’t even dream of...not to say that you didn’t try. For instance, as you lay beside him in bed, you couldn’t help but notice the marks that covered his flesh. 

Some were thin, long stash-like bands while others were much thicker and abrasive. It depended on which scar you were admiring but they were all different. IN fact, not one was the same. 

“Why don’t we talk about your life before me?” you wondered, your voice breaking the silence in the room. You two had been laying side by side in the dark for hours but your question came out of nowhere. 

It shocked Geralt that you wanted to talk about it, but he didn’t argue. It was almost impossible to get a rise out of him but you weren’t bothered by it. You knew that Geralt cared about you, as much as he hated that he did.

“Nothing to tell” he grumbled, that dismissive tone in his voice that he often had. However, this wasn’t one of those things that you were willing to just let go of so easily. It was clear from the cicatrix that decorated his torso and legs. 

You had seen every inch of Geralt in your time together and you knew that he was covered with all different kinds of blemishes and lesions.

 In fact, you almost wondered if any of his skin had been spared the contact of a blade. 

“I can’t believe that Witcher, I’ve seen the proof” you teased, poking him in the shoulder, right where what was left of an arrow wound was situated. The man grumbled at the contact but didn’t ignore your question. 

He knew that you had him there. 

He had lived many lives, and been a different man through any of them but it was only natural that you would be curious. Especially seeing as you hadn’t been there for any of it until recently.

Many people had questions about him, but no one was in a position to ask them like you. You were his woman, in every way even if you didn’t feel the need to define the feelings you had for another. 

He felt something for you that he didn’t for anyone else...and you knew that he couldn’t refuse you forever. 

Eventually he was going to break and tell you the tales of his past.

“Please Geralt, just one” you begged, curling even closer into his muscular frame so that he could see your beautiful face in the dark. Geralt didn’t have very many weaknesses but your sparkling eyes were definitely one. 

Your unique beauty had been enough to make him fall in love all over again, so clearly you were a special kind of creature. 

He huffed deep in his throat before turning onto his side to face you. “Which one would you like to hear about?” he wondered, clearly unhappy about losing the battle between the two of you. 

However, there was no losing really. The two of you just enjoyed the power struggle between your mutual stubbornness. 

You hummed, thinking over all the different options that you had. There surely was no lack of scars all over his skin. “Let me see” you suggested, drawing out the last syllable as you ran your hand down his bare torso. 

The milky complexion of his flesh was pulled tight to his muscles, which tensed slightly under your fingers as you fiddled. You wanted to pick the perfect mark, the one you worried about above all the rest...you weren’t sure when you’d get an opportunity like this again.

“I’d quite like to hear about this one” you grinned, finally deciding on one of the newer scars that he had. 

You knew a little about it, like during what occasion he had gotten it but other than that, you had little details. When Geralt caught wind of another witcher taking off without killing a monster in Temeria, he insisted on going over to figure it all out. 

The whole point of a witcher was to kill beasts for payment...it didn’t work if you didn’t kill the creature that was terrifying to people. Besides, he needed to get to the bottom of it. 

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew what happened. 

Geralt rolled his eyes, feeling your feather light touches across the side of his neck that wasn’t resting against the bed. You moved as if you were worried about hurting him but you knew that it was all healed. 

Not that he was complaining. 

Your softer side was part of what he loved so much about you. You were always so sweet and gentle and kind, even when he couldn’t do so. In that way, you two were perfectly matched. 

The events of that night had been a point of contention between you and the Witcher since that time. You desperately wanted to know what had happened with the striga all that time but he wouldn’t tell you a single thing. 

Instead, he kept it a secret. 

All you knew about the night was that he was returned to you with a bandage around the side of his throat and a brand new story to tell-not that he bothered to tell it. 

He didn’t want you to know that the striga had almost gotten the best of him, because if you knew, he would never hear the end of it. 

“Really? Of all these, you want to talk about this?” he clarified, giving you a single chance to back out. You knew that there was probably a few more interesting stories on his body but you needed to know about this. 

It had been driving you crazy since that night, and you wouldn’t be able to move on until you knew the truth about what had happened to him. 

“I do” you nodded, running your index finger over the raised skin. 

You didn’t like the idea of him getting hurt when you weren’t there for him. If this had been any deeper, it could have killed him and then you would be without the man you cared for. 

...You just couldn’t imagine what your life would be like without the Witcher at your side.

“I got it in Temeria, rescuing the striga...you know that” he started, still unsure why you wanted to know so much about this event in particular. He assumed it was just because you were still angry at him for leaving you behind. 

And maybe that was why it bothered you so badly.

You couldn’t be of much help to him anyway, which had always bothered you but the fact that he could have died and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything hit you differently. 

It was frustrating. 

“Yes, but something must have happened for you to let your guard down...you could have died” you sighed, hating to even think about that. It broke your heart to think about but sometimes the ugly things were necessary. 

Especially in the world that you lived in. 

“But I didn’t” he countered, that smirk on his face as he spoke. He was lucky that he hadn’t because if he had, you would be angry with him...and he’d never live it down. 

You nodded, giving up the fight and resting your head against his bare shoulder. “And I’ve never been more glad for something in my life” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. 

“Just for the record though Geralt, you should be proud of your scars. They’re the brands of a warrior”

Without missing a beat, you pressed a kiss to Geralt’s shoulder before snuggling up to him and deciding to go to bed. You both knew that this was no where the end of the conversation but you knew that nothing would be done tonight about it. 

Instead, you needed your rest. 

There was always time to talk about this when the sun came up.