#geralt x you smut

[eccentricallygothic]

Divorced Dad!Captain Syverson who experiences a real time brain short-circuit when he sees how well you get along with his kids during your first meeting with them… 

Warning(s): Breeding kink, size kink, old man!Sy, age gap, manhandling, groping, fluff, boob play, unprotected p-in-v, I added plot to it TT. MDNI.

. . . 

After the messy divorce that followed his turbulent marriage, Sy was not looking forward to any relations with the opposite sex, if possible. With his former profession a constant hurdle to his life as part of a unionized pair and marital bliss, what had started as a promising relationship had turned out to be one of those unfortunate marriages where children were sought as a last resort to perhaps save the remnants of the already rotten love between man and wife. Though being someone from a background that held family in the highest esteem and always having been fond of the idea of his own lot, Sy loved his children more than life itself and there was not a thing in the world he would trade for them. And that was the reason why he had preferred to opt for an early retirement so custody would not be an issue between him and his ex-wife who was more than eager to shed off everything affiliated with the name Syverson like an illness.

You, on the other hand, though not much experienced with the opposite sex were not too warm to the idea of children. Being a student in her last year of higher education and only so old as you were, your attitude hardly deserved to be subjected to scrutiny. That, and the fact that you hadn't really had many young ones around you while growing up as an only child, calling you a foreigner to the scene would not qualify as an exaggeration and hence it can be said that it is more indifference than contempt on your part. 

So naturally, when it happened, it was strictly unplanned. And very fateful. With a rather traumatized Sy in a sort of an emotional limbo who had more than enough reason to keep to himself, and a stressed with soon approaching future endeavors as well as disillusioned with the opposite sex you, the night you had bumped into each other outside the bar restrooms where Sy had been dragged to cheer up by his friends and you to loosen up by yours, the rather fast yet steady rate at which the two of you had woven into each other had been unexpected to say the least. 

But now, as Sy fires up the grill in his backyard to begin the little BBQ he has planned for today when you meet his children for the first time, the prided and much experienced grill expert nearly burns his hand because he is so busy inwardly fawning over how quickly his rugrats have warmed up to you. And you, Sy will swear on anything that you are just the most perfect woman— person alive. Everything is just right with you. Even on days when the world seems to press down on him, your mere presence is there to help his spirits back up and elate as well as support him in every sense.

Though he had been honest about his condition since the beginning, after his initial reluctance to get with you as you were so much younger and inexperienced compared to him, children weren't peculiarly a topic that came up between the two of you except occasions where Sy wanted to share a little victory or rant with you. So as you keep his toddler on one hip with a protective arm around her, your perfect body -Sy's words- clad in a bonny bright coloured sundress, and hold the hand of his 5 year old who excitedly shows you around the mini patio of the modern farmhouse, memories of his own mother scarce if any, your making conversation with the boy and giggling along to his lisp droning flutters Sy's heart in a way that he thought he had outgrown. 

It also excites him with a kind of boyish heat that the former military Captain had thought he had shed off with his adolescent youth.

And so he just has to have you by yielding to a similar impatience and desperation, the musical sound of your giggles faintly fluttering its melodies upon his flush and thumping ears as he gets to it.

��God, Sy!” The huff in your words fires him up even more and he cannot hold back any longer. “You’re such a brute!” His coarse and scarred paws heavily pull at your dress with a crazed desperation to help you find the restroom, as he had told one of the farm hands that he had left the children under. “Oof!” The whine you let out before instinctively craning your head to try and ease the way his thick beard tickles the tender skin of the curve of your neck makes him growl into your carotid pulse that he worships with his hot lips, the pressure of your pressing your face into his as well as the soft pants you let out, your chest bumping into his with each heave of your lungs, only lithifies his bulging erection even more. 

“Gon' fatten up your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum, baby” Sy's breaths scorch your clammy skin with their burning weight. His hands grope and expose you everywhere they can reach, and they can do so everywhere because of how much smaller hence ragdoll-like you are compared to him. “Wouldja like that, angel?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he boosts your thighs up his tall legs and around his waist, the fat and leaking tip of his cock grazing against your holes from how he is kissing you everywhere he can reach. “Me stuffing that cute tummy full of siblings for Tim and Bethy, huh?” You know he would never actually do something as serious so callously without a prior discussion so you breathlessly nod, pushing your oral muscles to gulp down the thick bile in your throat and tip your head against the wall to prepare yourself to withstand his intrusion of your pussy that thanks to his girth always feels like not only your first time with him but your very deflowering in general.

 “Yes” your mouth falls open as he reaches below the hold with which he has your whole body propped up. “Yes, please~” his balmy tip finds its destination in the tiny, drenched and quivering closed up band that leads to your reproductive cavern. “Please fimme with your babies, Sy~” when the stretch makes your tiny hole burn around his girth, your mouth lets loose all the obscene words of vulgar desire. 

“Yeah, baby?” Sy's fingers flex over your ass and caress their way up your side before coming down and repeating the action, his thumb stealing strokes of your nipples as he does. “Wanna make me a Daddy, yeah?” A hiss leaves your mouth and your back arches at the feeling of your walls sheathing him deep within themselves. His breathtaking urgency nearly puts a dent in your innards. “Want me to make you all round and heavy here?” Your pussy clenches around the hilt of his cock when he suddenly gropes your naval into a greedy handful.

“Yes, please, Sy!” Your whole form bounces up in the air when the man gives you a thrust so powerful that has you mewling and digging your nails in his shoulders. “Wanna make you a Daddy so bad, Sy!” His dick has always had a hypnotic effect on you, for the minute it's in the vicinity of any of your holes, you become a brain dead parrot for him. 

“Atta girl~” he cooes, tossing your body further up with a strong stab of his hips so he can clamp his teeth down on one of your boobs.

MASTERLIST

. . . 

I am MAD for this man. Like I am not even hot on kids. WHAT—

[intrepidacious]

bring your hunger

summary: There is a Witcher in your house.

pairing: geralt of rivia x succubus!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), light dubcon due to demon magic, penetrative sex (p in v), some biting and choking 😌 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: somehow it's been over a year since i posted a full fic but one ao3 writer's curse later here we are. whole new fandom. i've also never written smut until this show rewired my brain so bon appétit (please be kind). my biggest love to @aphrogeneias and @brandycranby who both let me complain about this story for about three months, i adore you!!

masterlist | read on ao3

There is a Witcher in your house.

You smell him long before you lay your eyes on him, the stench of his magic permeating the forest, harsh and acrid. Somewhere in the woods nearby, something is burning.

For a moment, you hesitate, considering your options. A lesser creature would’ve turned on the spot and run, would’ve stolen a horse in the nearby town and gotten as far away as possible, and maybe you should be doing the same. Forsake your home and this region and try to forget them to save your neck.

But your instincts are never wrong, and right now they are drawing you closer, one cautious step in front of the other, until your door creaks open.

He’s sitting in your chair, turned to the side to have a clear view of the entrance. He is propped up against the dining table, his matted white hair sticking to his forehead. The air is heavy with the smell of blood and sweat. Whatever happened across him managed to get him good; he seems to have bandaged himself up, somehow, but the gashes in his chest look painful.

He stares at you, frown deepening on his face, but he stays very still. There is a dangerous look in his amber eyes, full of fire and fury, and for some reason, that doesn’t scare you. Not at all.

Gods, you’re hungry.

There’s a steady pulse of power coming from him, muted but incessant, like his body’s not ready to drop the fight quite yet. He doesn’t, however, reach for the weapons he’s carelessly dropped on your good carpet.

So instead of fleeing, you draw the door shut behind you and you tilt your head.

It’s stronger now, the smell of your own powers. You don’t think it holds as much sway over Witchers as it would do over mere mortals, but it’s still enough for him to white-knuckle the edge of the table.

"I know what you are," he grits.

The low timbre of his voice makes you grin.

"That makes us even, then." You get closer to him, gingerly stepping over his swords. "Are you going to do something about it?"

His nostrils flare a little, but apart from that his face stays unreadable. Only his eyes betray him, still trained on your lips. He can’t help himself.

"I don’t kill your kind," he says.

"How generous of you." You come to a halt between his legs, reaching out to tilt his chin towards you.

He lets you, and there’s the slightest hint of amusement hidden at the corner of his mouth. From up close, the fire in his eyes burns even brighter.

"Let me show my appreciation," you say lowly.

His scent changes ever so slightly with the first small spike of his arousal. It sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

Your fingers trail down his throat, along his broad shoulders, down the taut muscles of his back, leaning into him even more. His hands fall to your hips, almost involuntarily. Slowly, unhurriedly, you let your nose brush against his and he inhales with a shudder.

This is always your favourite part. The final moments before they give into their desire, your meal prepared and served up on a silver platter, ready to indulge in.

"Don’t," he says, barely a warning.

"Don’t what?" You can feel his breath against your smile.

"Don’t tease."

"No?" He’s got remarkable restraint, this Witcher; but you can hear his racing heart. "Alright then."

And between one moment and the next, you let your clothes disappear.

It’s a simple trick, one that everyone of your kind can do as easily as blinking, but it’s never failed you. His eyes turn even darker as he realizes what you’ve done, as you move back a little to let him take you in. You lick your lips as another waft of his arousal reaches your nose.

Delicious.

"Is that better?" you whisper, tipping your head to the side.

He doesn’t reply. He pulls you towards him sharply, and then his mouth crashes against yours, hard and sudden. One of his hands grabs your ass, hauling you into his lap while the other one cradles the nape of your neck.

It’s a brutal kiss, divinely ferocious. Your naked core brushes over the noticeable bulge in his pants and he groans. You move your hips back and forth, just enough friction to make his fingers curl, nails biting into your skin.

This, you think, this is just what you’ve been craving. This sense of presence, of awareness. Your heartbeats growing faster. Pulling, tasting, wanting. More.

You only break the kiss to undo his belt, and he chases after your lips, hazy, starving.

You can relate.

He is already rock hard when you pull him out of his pants, ready and leaking. He pushes into your touch, raw need taking over.

You let out an appreciative hum, positioning yourself in his lap, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest. You want him to feel good, after all, no: you need him to.

You haven’t been sated in so long.

"Witcher," you chuckle breathlessly as his arms tighten around you, caging you against his body. "Aren’t you supposed to kill wicked, evil things like me?"

He growls, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You gasp as he drags his tongue over the bite marks immediately; like he’s savouring your taste, too.

When he looks up at you again, his eyes are like molten embers.

Your hand tangles in his hair and you yank his head back to kiss him again, swallowing the sound he makes when you sink down on him, and it’s a pity, really, because you could get your fill from that alone. It’s delectably salty and bitter.

Finally, he’s fully inside you, and he tilts his hips to allow you a better angle as you start moving.

"So good for me," you murmur.

He slaps your hand away when you try to slip it between your bodies, and then his own fingers find your clit, gently teasing at first, but quickly applying more pressure. You gasp, your walls clenching around his cock.

He lets out a breathless huff. "There, huh?"

"That’s it. Just like that."

It’s too much. Your breaths quicken as the air around you starts to hum and crackle with building energy. It’s making your head swim, each precise stroke to your clit bringing you closer to that edge you’re chasing.

His mouth still trails along your neck, nipping there. Your skin already feels sticky with sweat and magic as you’re hurled ever closer to the peak of your arousal.

Just as the tension in your core gets tight enough to snap, he stills completely. His cock is fully sheathed inside you, but he doesn’t move, his arms around you hard and unyielding, not even allowing a single roll of your hips. Something between a whine and a growl escapes your lips as your canines come down hard enough to draw blood.

The Witcher smiles at you hazily. "Do you want to come, little demon?"

You want to bite him. You want to suck out his energy until he’s nothing more than a sad, empty husk.

Your snarl only brings out a dark glint in his eyes, and his hand moves to your neck, forcing you to hold his gaze. His grip tethers you in your denied pleasure.

"Ask nicely," he says lowly, brushing his lips against yours.

Wicked, evil man.

Underneath your skin, your powers are brimming with unease, not yet refilled, not yet repleted; he knows this. You know he knows, and yet you’re unwilling to give in. "Or what?"

His grin widens just a fracture as his chin juts out in unmatched arrogance. You could burn it off his face. You could dig your claws into the gashes in his chest and widen them even more, feast on his blood instead.

"I know you need it," he says. His cock twitches inside you. "Beg."

A shiver goes down your spine, hot and cold at the same time.

You don’t beg. Ever. You don’t yield control, not even for your meal, especially not to someone like him. But then he expertly applies pressure to your throat and your eyes roll back in your head, all thoughts lost to the thick haze of your desire.

"Please," you whimper, clenching around him again. "Please fuck me."

He groans, hips stuttering into yours involuntarily before he moves in earnest, keeping his hand on your throat. It’s almost agonisingly slow at first, one roll of his hips almost letting him slip out of your cunt completely before he pushes back in with one single, firm stroke.

Your startled cry of pleasure gets stifled by his mouth, coaxing, biting, until your claws dig into the thick muscles on his shoulders. The arm around your back guides your movement, pressing you even closer to his body than before as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.

You’re so close. You can already taste the precipice, black stars dancing along the edge of your vision.

Another moan rips out of you when you come apart for air, mouths open. "That’s it," he pants, watching you through half-lidded eyes, "Come for me."

His voice cracks with rapture, and it’s that more than the feeling of his own climax that sends you over the edge.

This part of your nature never gets old: As the orgasm rushes through you, the pent-up energy surrounding you snaps like lightning, funnelling into your body like an invisible current until you shudder blissfully with your appetite sustained. Your magic crackles around you, dancing on your burning skin like sparks of fire.

You hum appreciatively, your eyes still closed as you take a moment to collect yourself. This day has taken a pleasantly surprising turn, after all. It’s been too long since you’ve felt so thoroughly sated.

However, when you try to move out of his lap, the Witcher’s grip on you tightens decisively.

"Is that it?"

Your eyes fly open.

He is breathing heavily, but despite his loss of blood and the energy you’ve pulled from him, there’s not a trace of exhaustion to be found. He still has that same dangerous twinkle in his gaze. Fire and fury. Something lurches in your stomach.

"I thought your kind’s supposed to be insatiable," he says, leaning in to nuzzle at your collarbone. His medallion bumps against your breasts with a sharp vibration as his fingers trail down your side, a slow, torturously delicate touch. "You can give me one more."

It’s not a question. Still, the hands parting your legs even further are almost as gentle as they are relentless. A light press to your overstimulated clit has you keen, spasming around his cock, and he chuckles lowly.

"Eyes on me."

You hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut again. You’re leaning heavily into him now, another wave of pleasure starting to build as the smell of his magic envelopes you.

He growls, moving both of you around so you’re spread open on your dining table, him leaning over you with a look that wants to devour you whole. Like you’re the one being served up for him to make a meal out of. Impossibly, he’s growing hard again as his deft hands coax you closer to your next release.

"Just one more."

It’s such an obvious lie, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re brimming with energy, dizzyingly replenished and yet still ravenous. The air is humming with it, the promise of more.

"Don’t lie to me, Witcher," you still gasp.

His smile is positively sinful. "You said it yourself. I’m just so generous."

You’re so full. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his aura flickering with lust, rich and decadent and beautiful.

"In other words," he continues, his lips brushing your ear right as you reach your peak again. "We are just getting started."

this fic was brought to you by horny hyperfixations. reblogs and comments are what keep your local writers sustained!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics to get notified whenever i post 💛

[mystra-midnight]

Dark Paradise

summary: geralt was all-consuming, invading every one of your senses; somehow, he'd snaked his way beneath your skin and between your ribs before burrowing into your heart. he lived there now, and you couldn't breathe without him.

warnings: 18+ only. breeding kink. overstimulation. mentions of multiple orgasm. name calling; slut. dom!geralt.

words: 1k.

notes: no one will ever convince me that geralt is a soft man. he is all strength, and arrogance, and hard muscles. and he will dominate his woman. admittedly this is shorter then i wanted it to be, and maybe not my best work, but i do hope you enjoy.

If ever there was something to be grateful for, it was this: being able to fuck his woman raw without the fear of an unwanted pregnancy. Having you naked beneath him was everything Geralt wanted—to watch your velvet walls stretch around his cock's girth, to feel your body tremble as he rocked his hips against your ass, to watch your cum mixed with his be forced from your tight hole with each brutal thrust.

You knew, completely and irrevocably, that there was no chance of falling pregnant with Geralt of Rivia. The trials had made him sterile, though you boiled fennel and drank it regularly to be certain. Your mother taught you from the eve of your first bleed to protect yourself against others, to trust no one but yourself, and that having a child with the wrong man could lead your life to ruin.

But tonight he had come to your cottage on the outskirts of the village in a foul and angry mood, with snarling tongue and gnashing fangs. He refused to tell you what had happened as he forced you down to your knees. All he'd wanted was your naked body beneath him.

"Geralt." Your voice quivered and rose to a crescendo when he speared through the satin clutch of your cunt and hit the sweet spot that sent your eyes spinning. Geralt of Rivia was not a small man—not in any sense of the word. He was tall and impossibly strong. His eyes were intense, and his hair was the colour of starlight. With broad shoulders and a myriad of scars along his body, he was every woman's fantasy.

And he refused to treat you with fragility. To him, you were not a damsel in distress. So he fucked like he fought, with teeth and tongue, and in every position. "I-I can't. S'too much."

Your thighs trembled under the lingering force of the three orgasms Geralt had pulled from the depths of your soul—on his fingers, tongue, and cock. Another one would surely kill you; you would float away from your body and away from him, never to return. But the idea of him filling you again was heavenly and impossible to deny—not when he dominated you so beautifully.

"You can," he grunted, his voice a rough growl. Geralt followed a bead of sweat that dripped down your spine with the tip of his tongue, leaving your sweat-slick skin goosepimpled. His hand followed the same path until he gripped the nape of your neck and pressed you into the mattress, keeping you cemented in place as he filled into you again. “You can, because I’m not stopping.”

Geralt knew that you wouldn't reply—at least not verbally. The impact of his hips against your ass was brutal, forcing the air from your mouth in pretty moans. The clutch of your cunt was more than enough of an answer. He smeared his lips along your shoulder as he shadowed over you like a terrible, haunting visage. The angle made it seem as though he was in your guts, rearranging your organs.

"That's a good girl," he cooed against your skin, his tone positively mocking. "Now, you stay right there while I fuck a baby into you. That's what my slut wants, isn't it? To be swollen with my child?"

He turned feral and ferocious in a flash, ruthlessly rutting into you. He drove you to the brink of yet another orgasm as you clawed at the sheets. Between whoreish moans, your walls tightened around him, leaving you gasping for air. A familiar warmth moved through your aching limbs and raced through your blood while a thunderstorm roared behind your ears.

"Geralt. Geralt, please, I can't. I can't—oh, fuck. There, r-right there." You babbled mindlessly. You felt lost in the sensation of his hands grabbing here, there, and everywhere. You felt lost in the sting of his teeth and tongue and how he tasted your skin. You felt lost in the pressure of his fingers and how he left bruise-shaped prints everywhere he touched.

"Right here?" He demanded. His fingers dug into the curve of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his pelvis, the sound of wet skin connecting echoing loudly in the small cottage. You squirmed and keened when he hit that sweet spot. "Is this what my slut needed—to feel me this deep?"

You didn’t hear him over the thunderstorm, which had grown into a deafening roar that blocked out the world. And as your vision went white, the pressure snapped, and a bolt of lightning sparked a wildfire in your blood. You felt like you were burning alive; the air in your lungs was superheated, and nothing could cool it. You came hard, screaming his name as he held you in place.

Geralt held you tightly, fingerprint bruises decorating your skin while galaxies burst to life inside your veins. The warmth of your cunt was divine, a heavenly caress as he rutted into you, chasing his own release as he threw his head back. "There you go," he grunted. He slapped your ass just hard enough to get your attention. "You're such a good slut. Does it feel good cumming for me while I breed you?"

You still couldn't answer him; each thrust knocked the air from your lungs, leaving your mouth open as you gasped, squealed, and wriggled in his grasp. Geralt didn't seem to mind. With a final thrust, he buried himself. His hand in your hair held you in place and tinged your scalp with a pleasurable sort of pain as the last of your orgasm ebbed away, leaving your clit throbbing in time with your heartbeats.

It was a welcomed feeling when his release painted your walls—a feeling that made your brain foggy. And despite the haze clouding your thoughts, you knew in that moment you would give yourself to this man. Not only your heart, but your body as well. You knew that if there was a way, you would give him what he wanted, and you would let him breed you.

[may-cii]

Cold nights

Cold nights vanish in the heat of Geralt's passionate hold.

Geralt of rivia x (sorceress) female reader

Genre: SMUT / fluff (minors DNI)

Wc: 1,320

A/N: hi guys I’m gonna make the smut longer next time negl it’s pretty short so this is mostly fluff but there is smut and thank you guys for the support on my last post!

—

Traveling with Geralt is a engery drainer. While he’s drawn to the chaos of monster hunts, you prefer the quiet precision of sorcery and trade. Yet, despite your differences, you find yourself pulled into his world time and time again. You tell yourself it’s out of necessity—someone has to patch him up after a fight—but deep down, you know it’s more than that. There’s something magnetic about the way he moves, his body coiled with tension, his every action deliberate. When he’s injured, it’s you who tends to him, your hands steady as you stitch his wounds. And yes, you’ve noticed the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin when he removes his shirt, though you’d never admit it. You’ve convinced yourself that Geralt doesn’t see you that way, that your bond is purely platonic. But sometimes, when his gaze lingers a moment too long, you wonder.

What you don’t realize is that Geralt admires you just as deeply. He values your presence on these journeys, your quiet strength and unwavering focus. To him, you’re a constant in a world that’s anything but. He’s drawn to the way you move, the way you think, the way you seem to understand him without needing words. But he’s hesitant to act on it, afraid that crossing that line might ruin what you already share. He’s not one for grand declarations, and the thought of losing you is more terrifying than any monster he’s faced.

“Geralt,” you call out, noticing he’s fallen a few steps behind. He catches up, his expression unreadable as always. “Let’s stop at this tavern. I could use a drink.” You reach for his hand, your fingers brushing against his calloused palm, and pull him along with a lightness that makes him smile despite himself.

The tavern is alive with the hum of drunken laughter and clinking mugs. Geralt steers you toward a corner table, away from the rowdier patrons. After a couple of drinks, he gently takes the cup from your hand. “That’s enough,” he says, his voice firm but soft. His eyes flicker to your face, then briefly lower before he looks away, hoping you didn’t catch the way his gaze lingered.

“And why’s that?” you protest, your words slightly slurred, a playful pout on your lips.

“Because you’re drunk,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stands, tossing a few coins on the table before offering you his hand. “Let’s get you to bed, darling.” His arm slips around your waist, steadying you as you walk. Normally, you’d brush off such closeness, but tonight, your mind is too hazy to resist. You lean into him, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. When he removes his hand, you feel the absence acutely, a chill settling in its place.

“Here?” Geralt asks, gesturing to a clearing. You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold bites at your skin. “Help me set up. It’ll warm you up,” he suggests, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he guides you forward.

Once the tent is pitched, you shed your outer layers, leaving you in a simple nightgown. You grab your hairbrush, running it through your hair with slow, deliberate strokes. Geralt watches you from the corner of his eye, his admiration barely concealed. “I’ll be back soon,” he says softly before slipping out of the tent.

When he returns, you’re already in bed, the light dimmed. “What did you get?” you mumble, resting your head on the pillow.

“Some berries,” he replies, placing them on the table. He walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. “And this,” he adds, holding out a delicate white flower. “For the prettiest girl in the kingdom.”

You smile, taking the flower and inhaling its sweet scent. “Thank you,” you say, your voice warm. Everything he does makes you fall for him even more. If only he knew.

“You like it?” he asks, leaning back against the bed frame.

You nod and lean forward to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back into your spot. Geralt turns off the light as he lies down beside you. You both pull the covers over yourselves and drift off to sleep.

You wake in the middle of the night, shivering. “You cold, darling?” Geralt’s voice is low and gravelly with sleep.

“Yeah,” you whisper, trembling.

Geralt pulls you close, your back pressing against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, and you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented sigh. “Did I wake you?” you ask softly.

“No, you didn’t. I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admits, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your waist.

“Geralt?” you murmur.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

“Do—do you love me?” you hesitate, curiosity getting the better of you.

Geralt lets out a low chuckle. “Yes, I do,” he pauses for a moment. “Do you love me, Y/N?”

You turn to face him, your breath mingling in the cool air. “I do love you. So much,” you smile before your lips meet his. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. The cool breeze drifts through the tent, making you shiver.

“I’m cold, Geralt,” you murmur against his lips.

He pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together. You can feel his hard length pressing against your core. You kiss him again, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hand slides down to grip your ass. You moan softly, grinding your hips against his. Geralt groans, his hand moving to your throat as the other slips between your thighs.

He tugs your panties aside and slides a finger into you. You gasp, your body tensing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Geralt,” you whimper, and his cock throbs at the sound of your voice. He quickens his pace, adding a second finger and circling your clit with his thumb. The sensation is overwhelming, and you know he’s going to make you come undone.

Geralt kisses you gently before pulling his hand away. You let out a needy whine, and he chuckles, lifting your leg higher over his hip. Your hands fumble with his belt, freeing his aching cock. It’s thick and heavy, veins prominent and glistening with precum. You moan at the sight before he guides himself into you. Your walls clench around him, taking in his girth.

“Fuck,” he growls as you tighten around him, his hips beginning to move. He starts slow, the deliberate pace making your stomach flutter with anticipation. But soon, his thrusts become more urgent, more demanding. You moan and whimper, your lips seeking his in sloppy, desperate kisses. Geralt’s groans grow deeper, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“Need to cum,” you whine, your voice trembling with need.

“Go on, darling,” he grunts, his own release close. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the tent, mingling with your moans. The air is thick with the scent of sex. Geralt hits that spot again, and you cry out, your orgasm crashing over you. You cling to him, riding the wave of pleasure as Geralt follows, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. You come again, your walls clenching around him as you both moan, bodies pressed together in the throes of ecstasy.

Your movements slow, becoming lazy and unhurried until they still completely. Geralt presses a tender kiss to your lips and brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Are you still cold?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You giggle softly. “No, I’m not.” He smiles and nods, wrapping his strong arms around you as you drift off to sleep.

[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 2 - Geralt of Rivia

Authors Note: Sorry it took so long, I just really had no clue how to do the first part justice

Word Count: 3,876

Warnings: reader is a brothel worker

Description:Part two to the first. FIRST PART HERE

Enjoy!

There were many times in Geralt's life where he felt an undeniable rage, and there were many times that he let that rage affect him until he was forced to suffer the consequences of all his actions. He had learned over the years that there were ways of handling his rage, there were ways of dealing with sadness and pain. 

He had been through so much, and yet he stood, and he always told himself that it would be worth it. Soon enough he would find something that would make it all worth it, and he had found that in you. 

Your soul matched his in a way he never thought possible, and though you didn’t have the same physical scars you had both been through more than you can imagine. And he always found himself gravitating to you, the one person in the world that he felt never judged or expected anything from him. 

Sure, he obviously did not know how to deal with this. He never knew how to talk to you, what to say and when to say it, and he really did not know how to seem casual just as Jaskier always could. Not to mention he was constantly worried about losing you. He felt like a flame, loving something so much and trying to engulf it into warmth only for it to burn and vanish. 

You had been through so much, he never wanted you to burn and he couldn’t imagine a life without you. 

So, even if he couldn’t show emotion or manage to properly show his love, he allowed Jaskier to grow close to you. Geralt made sure that you were physically safe, warm and fed. It was the least he could do. 

He never wanted to leave you wanting for anything, and he desperately tried to find ways to show you yet nothing ever worked. 

But then you were his, for one small moment he had you and he felt as though everything was worth it again. He would burn the world down for you, slay any monster and batter any mortal. It was all yours for the taking…

Until you burned. 

How ironic, how hard he fought to keep you at arms length only to lose the battle in a split moment, and be proven right just like that. 

Now you were gone. 

He knew exactly where you were, had already tried to get you, only to be stopped at the door each time.  Each time he was stopped he wanted to crush their skulls, storm up to wherever they were keeping you and try to explain. 

He would drag you out the door himself just to make sure you never had to do this again. But there were laws, as well as contracts. He would never be allowed to see you unless he could pay the fee, and you would never be allowed to leave unless you could buy out your contract. 

If he managed to get to you and help you escape there would still be the hassle of everyone hunting you down, and word spreads from town to town quickly when it comes to Witchers. 

“How much?” He growls, keeping his eyes narrowed in on the older woman before him, watching her lean back on her chair and fix her dress. She was unlike any other brothel owner he had come across, the others always had a protective notion for the girls. This one seemed vindictive in every word she spoke. 

“Witcher, I have told ye the last 4 times ye have been here that she is not for sale.” She laughs, reaching a foot out to kick the pouch of gold he had laid on the table in front of her. Her dress rides up exposing a very scarred leg, and his stomach tightens at the atrocities you must be going through with this hag and any man she rented you out to.  “Y/n is the emerald of all brothels, before she came upon mine she was already widely known for her beauty, not to mention her time with the Witcher? Men are practically killing themselves to have a moment with her. I stand to make more keeping her than I ever would selling her back to you.”

“Her contract-”

“Has another 4 years under my roof. By the end of that I could be far far away from this continent. Don’t you understand?” She leans forward, knocking the satchels down and watching all the gold pieces fall on the ground. 

That had been 4 months work, 4 months of Geralt working himself to the bone and saving up in a chance to save you. He hadn’t eaten properly or slept more than 2 hours a night in that span of time. 

Images flash through his mind, him ringing this wenches neck in or slamming her head into the fire. Maybe he could slice her head off in one clean motion. 

But he doesn’t, because he understands the consequences. So he bites his tongue and stands straighter. “I just want to see her-”

“Then you pay, just as everyone else.” The Madame sneers, leaning across the table. “I don’t give a fuck if you love her witcher, though I don’t believe you are even capable of that, my rules stay the same. You want to see her then you pay for her time.”

He leans forward, smirking a bit when her attitude drops in fear for a moment, before tilting his head. “Then how fucking much?”

-

“I really do not believe you were worth 230 gold pieces-” Lord Servail huffs, struggling to shove himself back into his trousers. You struggled not to roll your eyes as you sat up, pulling the sheet to cover yourself and looking at the floorboards of the raggedy room. 

You had learned that the men of this village did not like to be watched, most of them married and most of them carrying guilt. You had merely assumed Lord Servail to be the same. 

“Have you nothing to say, whore?” He bellows, walking across the room to grab at your chin. A moment of panic sinks in, one hand holding the sheet tight while the other grabs at his wrist in an attempt to free yourself. 

“I do not understand what you mean, sir-”

“You are boring! You just laid there like a fucking corpse-”

“That didn’t seem to stop you from finishing within a minute-” The slap sounds out and for a second you wonder what he hit, then you open your eyes and feel the stinging on your cheek to realize it had been you. 

A bitter laugh slips past your lips as you taste the iron. 

Blood trails down past your lips as tears spring up in your eyes, the sheets under you stained and ripped from the past month. You think of Geralt in this moment, wishing that you were near him even if he ignored you. 

There had always been a calming factor to the witcher that you never understood, maybe it was a feeling of safety or maybe you just liked that he never showed much anger. He took anything that affected him and made a rational judgment. 

He was a man of trust, and he had never let anything harm you. Sure he yelled at you when he thought you stupid, and made condescending remarks, but you never felt as though he would lay a hand on you. 

“Is that all?” You sniffle, reaching a hand up to stop the blood as he steps back. The man stares at you before yelling out and storming out of the room, shirt untied as well as the trousers. You hear him yelling at your Madame before he leaves and you move over to the basin in the corner to clean yourself off. 

You clean your nose before moving to clean your legs, letting the tears fall freely as you hear her heels come down the hall. 

“You’ve just cost yerself yer pay, I’ll tell you that much.” Madame snaps, the door swinging hard enough to make the wall shake as she marches in. “I told ye that Lord Servail was a valued client and you-”

“Smiled pretty and let him cum. He really didn’t complain much until it came time to pay.” You snark, watching her face pull up. “Have I any news? Anyone come to see me?” 

It had been a month, and you had kept hoping that maybe Geralt or Jaskier would come to see you. At least try to get you back, but nothing. No letters, no visits, nothing. 

“Yer Witcher isn’t comin for ya’. So I suggest you fix yerself up and get back to work.” The Madame snarls, tossing the silk robe at you before storming back out. 

That lonely feeling that clung to you the day you left never seemed to fade, it folds in around you now as you pull into yourself. Knees hugged to your chest as you hide your face and cry. 

Truly what did you expect? That he would come pounding on the door? Try to save you? The salty taste of the tears mixes in with the iron as you sob. You had been foolish, so very foolish. 

Geralt must be at least 6 towns away by now, barely even thinking of you. 

-

“I am terribly sorry to inform ye, Witcher, that my emerald is stacked up for the next week and a half.”

“Bullshit.”

She snarls at him, standing quickly and snatching a heavy book from the desk behind her before slamming it on the table. “Take a fucking look then.” 

He doesn’t waste a moment, snapping through the pages one by one until he reaches your ledgers. Your handwriting is at the top, neat and clean from the ink, dated that day you dashed from the tavern. 

The very same day he had raced over here to see you. 

The day after he had you in his arms. 

The memory of it flashes through him, the way he snatched you like a caveman. He tries to reason with himself that he believed it to be consensual, that he hadn’t realized you were under a spell. But it didn’t matter. 

He treated you in a way he swore to himself he never would, and he made you so uncomfortable that you ran. 

Bile rises in his throat as embarrassment and guilt claw through him, he snaps through your pages to see dozens of signatures on each page. “You have her seeing twelve clients each day?”

“This is a busin-”

“Is she eating enough? Sleeping enough? Are you giving her proper time to rest?”

“I’m not a fucking babysitter-”

“If you are abusing your contract then she has a right to leave!”

She stares at him, watching for a moment with wide eyes as her cheeks go red. Then she fixes herself, clearing her throat before shouting out loud. “BOYS!” He doesn’t fight it as they grab both of his arms, instead he lets them carry him to the door and throw him to the mud below. 

“Guessing she didn’t take it?” Jaskier asks, watching Geralt pick himself up, checking to make sure he still had the satchel of gold. “Surprise surprise.”

All Geralt could do at this point was grunt, moving towards Roach as the barb fixes his coat. 

“I have another job, heard whispers of a screaming creature in the woods not far off from here. Figured you’d want to go out and make more gold so we can do this all again over and over and over.” 

“She’s overworking her, I just know it. Not enough time to eat or sleep-”

“Geralt, as much as I love Y/n, I think we need to….evaluate our current situation.”

“I NEED TO -”

“Get to her. I know. I’m not saying anything otherwise. I just want you to think about whether you want her to see you like this.”

“I want to see her safe.”

“And Y/n would want the same of you. Besides, we obviously have no power against the brothel system.”

“I have fought countless beasts-”

“And I am still your only friend. It’s time you admit it Witcher, humans aren’t your best expertise.” 

If this was any other moment Geralt would ignore him, hop onto Roach and pretend the worm didn’t exist. But he was tired, so tired he truly didn’t think he could even climb onto the horse. 

“Then what do you suggest?”

“First? Sleep. Then? We find an outside source.”

- 

Two months in and winter had finally come. 

You found yourself huddling together with Snae, a brothel worker that had been here a little longer than you, but hadn’t been that much older. This had been the first night you both had off this entire time, and it hadn’t been a purposeful thing. 

There had been a ball in the village, apparently a beast had been slaughtered and most of the nobles and rich men left in their carriages far away. Which meant you were free to huddle close to your friend for warmth as you tried to fight off the winter air. 

“I imagined this brothel warmer.” She sniffles, pressing her forehead to your arm as you shiver. “I was told this was one of the best-”

“It is….. To their guests.” You laugh, tired and aching. Honestly you could barely move, and you hadn’t managed to make it at dinner hour since you had been with a client. But Snae was nice enough to sneak you in a roll of bread. 

“I want to get out of here.” She admits in a quick breath, and you can’t help but smile at the admission. 

You had often imagined ways you would escape, but the truth was you had nowhere to go and no one to leave for. What would you have if you left here? Nothing.

So instead you close your eyes, and lean into her as you whisper. “Where would you go?”

“Home. To find my sister.” 

“You have a family?” 

“A little sister, it’s why I am here. I wanted to make sure she had something to pay for food.” Something tears at your chest, and within a moment you think of a plan. 

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

It takes a mere 30 minutes to pack her a travel pack using a sheet from the bed, rushing to your room to pick up the floorboard where you keep the little pay you make, 10 silver coins. Tossing them in her satchel before tiptoeing to the attic where the largest window was. 

“Shhh.” You whisper when she slips, the wood beneath her scraping under her shoe. Helping her stand before moving to the window. Unlatching it was easy, the winter air covering both of you in a moment. “You swill slide from this section to the next. Until you make it to that tree.”

“You go first.”

“I am not coming.” You laugh, clearing some of the snow from the sill. 

“You must.” 

“No, I have nothing. Besides, one of us needs to stay and give you time.” 

“Y/n-”

“If she begins hunting you then go and find the witcher. Do you hear me?”

“He wouldn’t help someone like me.” She laughs, and you merely stare at her. 

“I think you would be surprised of just how good of a person the Witcher is, though he likes to pretend he is not.”

“What should I say to him if I must find him?”

“That the Geralt I know would keep you safe. Now go.” 

You help her climb up the sill and onto the roof, watching her slide down in the flimsy robe Madame forces you to wear and make sure she makes it to the tree safely before closing the window. 

You allow yourself one moment to press your forehead against the cold glass of it, your breath hitting the glass to form a smudge.  You imagine escaping yourself, maybe going out to find Jaskier. 

But that was unrealistic. 

And you were obviously unwanted.

-

“Please, it’s very important-” A strong female voice fills the air as Geralt breathes in the scent of roast and ale. There was also smoke from the fires but he was far too hungry to admire that scent on it’s own.  “They said that he was here and-”

“First round of ale on me.” Jaskier sings out, moving to the counter as Geralt rolls his eyes. Jaskier was carrying his gold sack so truly the first round was on him. 

He was six villages away from you right now, landing at a cheap tavern for the night before they set up camp. They were here to listen for jobs. 

The plan, as terrible as it was, had been to travel to find Yennefer and along the way they would earn some extra gold. That way when they go they can send the witch in to make the deal, or at least pretend to make the deal as she can try to sneak you out. 

It was a terrible plan……. Because it was Jaskiers plan. 

“Please, I need to find the witcher.” That draws Geralt's attention away from the hearth he had been glaring into, head whipping to spot the young woman clutching the shoulders of a little girl as she begs the man once more. “If you could just tell me where he would be staying-”

“Witchers aren’t allowed in the fucking taverns here, so shut yer trap before I put it to work-.” Before Geralt could stop himself his hand is shooting out, catching the man by the back of the neck. At his movement the hood he had been wearing falls and the people around him all quiet down. 

The womens eyes fall to him, widening. “You are just as Y/n described.”

Something tightens in his chest at the mention of your name, and he finds himself nodding to Jaskier to lead the girl outside. The air hits him, the warmth gone but there was nothing that would hinder him from the conversation. 

“You know Y/n?” His voice is rough, the heat traveling his skin hiding him from the cold. The woman's eyes are filled with tears and the young girl is shoving her face in the smallest scrap of dress he had seen, so in one quick moment he rips his hood off to hand to them. “Is that what you wear in this cold?” “Please, I… I’m from the same brothel as Y/n and she helped me escape. All my money has gone to keeping my sister warm….. Y/n said that you would help. She said the Geralt she knew would help.”

“Where is she?” His heart is thundering through his ribcage at this point, and he can see Jaskier emerging from the tavern. “Did she make it-”

“She didn’t come.”

“Why?”

“Probably scared she wouldn’t make it out. Or might believe she is all alone and has nothing to escape for.” The feminine voice makes Geralt jump through his skin. Suddenly she is there, smelling of smoke and lavender. 

“Yennefer.” Jaskier gasps, but Geralt hadn’t needed him to let him know. 

“Tell me, Geralt of Rivia, about the woman who broke the witcher.”

You were no longer tired at this point, truly you were nothing. 

You didn’t speak, missed more meal times than not from being stuck with clients and at this point you didn’t seem to care. You were just breathing, and that was as much energy as you can muster. 

Three months into this place had truly broken you. 

Yennefer thought this place smelled of urine and death, and though she respected the females brave enough to work here she had absolutely no fucking clue why any man would risk stepping in here.

 One look at the young girl passing her with a bruise on her cheek told her all she needed to know. The men that came here didn’t care about anything but getting themselves wet and letting off some steam. 

“I have a room upstairs, I charge 50 a month in rent, half your earnings are to the house and the rest belong to you.” A voice sounds out, drawing Yennerfers attention away from the young girl with the bruise, back to the raggedy woman sitting at the counter. 

“Excuse me?”

“I have a room for ye-” 

“I’m not here for a room. I’m here for a girl.” 

“Really?”

Yennefer slaps 2 gold coins onto the counter, a smirk crossing her face as the woman's eyes widen in greed. “I was told you had an emerald here.”

“You’re here for Y/n….only problem there is it’s double for her time.” Yennefer sighs, taking out one more coin and slapping it down. “I said double.”

“And I am willing to go and tell the town that your girls are sick.”

“What do you want with Y/n?”

“I figured you wouldn’t need me to explain how your business works but if you need a lesson in fucking then you would have to pay ME double.”

“She is in the top room. Don’t bother knocking.” And just like that Yennefer is moving, picking up her skirts to walk up the steps, trying not to breathe in the smells as she reaches your room. 

Just as the brothel worker said she doesn’t bother knocking, and it was clear why when she walked in. 

The beauty Geralt had described last night was still there, just one look and even Yennefer was nearly at a loss for words. But the spark, the light of you was gone. You stared at the wall before you, empty and gone. 

“Y/n?” She calls, closing the door behind her. “Y/n…”

“I can’t….she said I’d have a day.” You sob, pulling into yourself. 

“You’ll have more than a day, I can promise that.” Yennefer smiles, moving closer slowly. “Your witcher has sent me.”

“My witcher?” There it was, some of that spark. “He’s gonna be mad at me.”

“Now that I can swear on. Come.”

-

Geralt stood pacing back and forth on the pathway as he waited for Yennefers portal to open, his heart in his throat and his eyes glued to the space before him. 

Jaskier waited at the inn they had found with the girl you had saved, Snae. But for now it would just be him waiting for Yennefer, far enough from the town that they would have a head start if anyone went looking for you whilst the rest would cause a stir and send them on a chase. 

They had learned from Snae that Madame had sent a bounty out on her, so Geralt could only imagine what she would do to you. ‘Her emerald’. 

Then it was there, forming like a cloud at first until it got bigger and bigger until it began showing like a mirror. 

Then Yennefers hand came through and Geralt found himself launching forward as she stepped through, both arms wrapped around…..you.

He was there, his hands on you as soon as he could, keeping you upright as Yennefer lets go. “Y/n.”

“Please don’t be mad.” You whisper. 

“What has she done to you…..”

Part 3 on October 30th

@sagelovesreading

@lashipperrubia @freyafriggafrey @cookielovesbook-akie @whatishappeninghere81 @livesinfantasyland @multiifandomhoe @amara-75 @unfxrgetwble @vlynccx @redlovett @yorkeylover @mxtokko @readinggirl29 @mollymal @fullmoonshadowwrites @rileytwenty @glasschampagne @caffieneaddictt18 @kittiowolf210 @purple-blommie @abrunettefangirlnerd @babezawa

[flusteredtuna]

Focus On The Target

Geralt of Rivia x !fem! Witcher Reader

Words: 3k+

Warnings: ( 18+ Mature Only ) Choking, Finishing inside, fingering, riding,

Summary: After months of tension, a visit to his bedroom sparks something that was a long time coming.

“Focus on the Target.”

Geralt of Rivia was a Witcher to be reckoned with. His hard exterior is thicker than bone and rock. It’s just the way he has to be, to be able to fight those dreadfully awful monsters.

He took you under his protection initially a handful of months ago, when he found you lost in the forest. A lost and broken female Witcher. It was no law of surprise but you both found yourself inseparable. And with every foe you both have crossed, you have insisted that you can fend for yourself. It’s hard for you to resist being stubborn about it since you were both around the same age and once wielded power like his.

Today, he finally decided to teach you the trade of combat. Since you never learned under prior “guardianship”. For, there would be a point where you would lose at your attempt to get involved.

Your leather boots squelch into the terrain below as you pull your arm in with blade in hand. The slight breeze that carries sprinkles of rain falls into the bay of your parted lip. You swing the throwing knife at the target ahead, hearing it whisper its sharpness in the air as it flies. The knife thuds on the ground, refusing to stick into the wooden target.

“Your grip is key.” He places another blade in your hand gripping your fingers tightly around it to show you how hard you should hold it. “The angle you throw should follow your arm’s aim…” Looking over at him, watching his yellow eyes flicker as he focuses on your training, you admire his strong features. His husky jaw and broad shoulders. The way his hair looks like beds of fallen snow and soot, with a strand falling next to his furrowy brows. More than a handsome man, but a damn good-looking one.

“Just inhale deeply and let it go as you throw. Just like the bow and arrow.” You nod “I understand”.

You spin your head back toward the target that is nailed to the wide tree, narrowing your eyes. Throwing again you manage to make it stick, but not in the center.

“Better,” His voice sounds full of gravel. But it’s deep enough to be alluring.

You’ve been attracted to his presence since you met him. And he’s felt the same about you. There have been many times when hands graze, tension fogs a room, and sometimes your lips almost meet during the fading of dusk. Your hearts were more than friends, but you both never mentioned any sort of lust, when it fluttered in the air. You both just let it pass by for some unknown reason. I mean, how could you turn down a man so protective and valiant as him?

“Remember to take your time, the ease will keep you in line with your target.” He gets closer to you guiding your arm with his hand, “When the knife leaves your hand, you want to be aiming higher than the target.” Shifting your eyes from him back to the target, just to get a sense of how close he is. You inhale deeply, letting it all fly away with the throw of the next knife.

Geralt is impressed and nods. “Good, very good.” He hands you another knife. “Again.” His dominating tone makes him all the more attractive.

Continuing to practice, you make a good improvement. Even with the distractions of him looming over you, or showing you how to hold the blade correctly. Not to mention the exchange of glances here and there that feel so seductive. But his expressions are always too cold to tell half the time.

You practice until the sun begins setting in the sky. He plucks the last knives out from the spiral wooden target. “You did well.” As you move toward him he turns around to take the last two from your hand. “I believe I’ve made quite the improvement on the path to proving you wrong, Geralt.” His response is a huff. The closest thing you’ll get to a chuckle from him.

“We should get back inside before it turns dark.” He looks at you, “Get some food and rest”.

You both make your way back to the tall house you’ve decided to reside at for the month. It’s tall and made of cobble. Wide and large, but not as large as a mansion. It’s just more than enough space. The mossy stone is gorgeous with the way the golden light showers its surface.

After eating a sufficient meal you decide to head to the bath. Geralt leaves you to clean up and relax, as you’ve earned it. The bathroom is just as homey yet grand as the house itself. A large sunken smooth stone tub, with buckets and candles around it. Cloth to wash and dry with as well. You undress from your robes, covered in mud and grass stains. Slipping every item off with ease as your breath deepens in relaxation.

The bath is warm as you step in, one leg at a time, then sit on the inner step of the tub. The cuts on your knuckles sting as they meet the water. Training did not only involve throwing knives but it involved throwing punches. Some against hardwood.

Although you are exposed, you feel safe, finding peace within the subtle darkness of the room. You steep in the tub for a while, taking your time cleaning yourself. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes, you soak and relax further.

So relaxed you are reluctant to hear the door creek open. “Oh uhm.” That coarse voice makes you shoot your eyes open to find Geralt standing there. You catch him looking at your wet and free breasts, so beautiful as they glisten from candlelight. He quickly turns away, “Sorry I thought you had finished.” The last word echoes in your head. Finished. The interaction makes you grin. He’s felt the breast he sees before him yet he has trouble looking out of respect for your current nature.

“Not yet.” You tease and play with his words and smirk, looking him up and down. You wouldn’t mind if he were to look again. Maybe come over and join you. “I’m almost done. Unless you want to join me.”

Geralt nods and moves closer, refusing to look anywhere in your direction. You’re surprised he decided to join you, but you guess he just thought it was best to not waste warm water. “I cannot stay for long. I have tasks that need my attention later tonight”. He finally meets your eyes but doesn’t explore anywhere else.

“Well, There’s plenty of warm bath.” You gesture to the other side of the large tub. It’s spacious enough to fit four people. He starts to take off his ragged dark clothes of the day and steps into the bath, only leaving on his medallion. His body was covered in those familiar scars he lets you ask about. He sinks into the tub, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to pay the same respect to him as he did to you.

He seems very at ease in the pool as if everything else is just white noise. He closes his eyes and sighs as if he were waiting for this moment of relaxation. The water blurs everything beneath the surface as it ripples, and you watch the water as it waves.

“So what does the night feature for you tonight? You said you have tasks.” Your eyes meet his. Geralt seems to think for a moment, the water lapping the sides of the pool. “Nothing too serious. Need to deliver a Kikimora leg to an alchemist in town.”

His voice is comforting and relaxing. He has a lot of experience with monsters, so it’s quite natural for him to speak of them so calmly. “I’ll be back in the early hours of the morning.”

“Then you should take your time now before you face another creature.” You grab a sponge and hand it to him. Your hands touch on accident, as they tend to do, and he takes the sponge. “Thank you.” It glides over his muscular arms and chest, and you can’t help but watch him a bit. He groans and it makes you squirm your legs a bit. As the noise would be lovely in another situation.

You let a few strained minutes of stubborn sexual tension pass before you notice how pruned your fingers are. “I’m headed to my chambers, I’m in dire need of my beauty rest.” You grab a towel and start to emerge from the bath. "I look forward to seeing your beauty upon rising.” He turns his face away and remains silent after this, seeming to restrain any further comment on your naked figure before him.

You dry yourself as much as you can before wrapping yourself in the warm towel. Starting to walk out of the room, you turn your head back to meet his eyes again.

“Goodnight, Geralt. And good luck” You smile and turn to walk away closing the door behind you, just hoping he makes it back as unharmed as possible.

-

-

-

You wake up in sheer terror, gasping for breath, clinging a hand to your heart, and feeling your pulse race a little faster than usual. It was another nightmare. One that was rare these nights. You sweep your curly locks out of your face and try to gather yourself. Maybe turning on a light or two would help.

The terrors fade a bit from your memory as you cool down, trying to observe the room to distract you. It must be late in the evening, creeping into early morning as it is still dark out the window beside your bed. He must be back by now, he has to be.

You throw your blankets open and slip out of bed, still wobbly from your slumber. With slightly heavy feet, you make your way out into the hall with candle in hand. The silence of the house is accompanied by the creek of the floorboards and the wind faintly hitting the window at the end of the hall. There is no glow from the outside seeping through the window like there is in the winter. Just darkness and shadows of your surroundings bathe around you and your candlelight.

As you carefully make your way down the hall, refraining from making as much noise as possible, you reach his door. You stand in front of the mahogany and iron, deciding if you should bother his sleep he so well deserved. Although you now desired more than one form of comfort.

Taking a deep breath, you nudge the door with your knuckles just enough to see and peek in. The door’s hinges creak quietly as it moves open a sliver.

You find that his bed is made, and he is not there. A strange discovery as you knew he’d be back in the early hours of the morning.

“Y/N.” A large warm hand lands on your shoulder and you gasp. “What are you doing up?” His hot breath lingers on your neck. You turn to face him, candle at your side. He’s a little cleaner than usual with a few small scratches on his face and his garbs and armor rugged from combat.

“I could ask you the same question.” His eyes glued to you as he takes your candle and sets it on the hallway’s table beside him.

“I am well within my reason. You should be in bed.” He wasn’t wrong about either. But it’s hard to sleep when the best comfort is supposed to be in the other room. Now it faces you.

Taking the pad of your thumb, you swipe his cheek and ignore his scolding. “Didn’t get too beat up, I hope.” He holds your hand in place and closes his eyes for a moment, taking in your palm. Then meeting his eyes with yours again, he lets go of the grasp and lets your hand fall.

“All went well indeed.” He moves a step closer to you backing you up against the wall.

“Now. I will ask you again. What are you doing up?” His voice makes you shiver with how low it is. Although it’s an intimidating tone, you find it protective.

“I’m safe and sound aren’t I? Why does it matter.” You try to throw your attitude at him to show he has no control over you.

“Because. You tend to linger by my bedpost when you’ve had a night terror.” He’s not wrong. You would come to him when it was unbearable because he was the only company you knew to turn to. You stay quiet with a tough look on your face, and he clearly reads you like a book.

He takes a step forward and as a result, you are pinned to the wall between his door and the table with the candle lit. “Or are your intentions…” Leaning in, he puts a hand on the wall right over your shoulder. Another attempt at protective imitation. “More seductive?”

“Perhaps a bit of both…” You analyze all his features, letting your eyes wander. “Perhaps…” You move a smidge closer to him, breath upon breath, “more seductive intentions.”

He doesn’t even let you catch your breath before taking a firm hand to your hip and locking lips with you. The kiss is filled with a feverous passion that makes you ache for more. You reach for his face again, pulling him closer, while you put another hand on his chest starting to unbuckle his armor at the sides.

This felt different than the other moments when you’re lips met each other. This felt like it was going to lead somewhere more permanent. It was rougher and made you more in need of his touch. His chest piece falls to the floor while he works on taking the others off, throwing it to the side. Geralt was now easier to feel, with fewer clothes to shield him from your touch.

In a swift motion, he grabs you by your thighs and picks you up, pressing you into the wall while your legs wrap around him. Tongues interlacing in a dance, swirling.

As you both pull away, your lips burn with sensation. He huffs into your mouth and presses his temple to yours, swinging you around and taking you to his bed. His grip on your ass as you travel is firm.

His room is almost as humble as his, but his bed is just as handsome. The headboard is stained Mahogany with carved features of trees and animals. And the canopy drapes over the bedposts, making it a cozy resting place.

He plops you down onto the edge of the end of the bed and starts to loom over you again. Leaning in to kiss you once more, you scoot backward. Making him work for it. “Catch me if you can, White Wolf.” You make sure to annunciate the name, just to tease him further. Every quick move you make back, he advances. Until you hit the headboard, letting him have his way with you.

The kiss again is tender and filled to the brim with passion. He grabs your wrist pinning it above you as he starts to kiss down your jaw, then your throat, until he hits your night dress. A thin white gown made from cotton cloth that comfortably drapes your body. He sits up, staring down at you for a second.

“I’ll get you a new dress.” He grabs the opening right above your breasts and tears it open, turning the garment into mere scraps of fabric. And just as he found you in the bathing room, you are exposed to him yet again.

He takes you in, being so mindful of every hill and plain on your body. It looks like he’s mapping you out for a plan of sensual attack. He murmurs low at the sight of you, and a hint of a smile appears on his face.

Your knees are bent, stuck together, while your heels lay far apart. With his medallion dangling, he takes a hand from your stomach and glides his calloused palm down your side. He sweeps under to grab your ass, releasing his grip to then move to your thighs. Trailing up his hands meet your knees, and he moves them apart. Opening you.

As his hand moves, his eyes follow to meet the center of your opened legs. His treasure. His reward to reap. He dances his fingers to your inner thigh, closer and closer to your center.

“Am I to watch as you dangle satisfaction above my head.” You say softly while your breath hitches with every change in touch. “Mm-hmm.” He nods as he finally reaches your clit making slow circles. You gasp and arch as his touch consumes your entire being shooting pleasure up every vertebrae.

Leaning in closer, he grabs your face sternly with control and kisses you again. The sensation fills you with desire. He then fills you again but with his fingers. Not rushing but not hesitating either. In and out, he pushes again and again. Although this fills you with more than mere lust, you want to show him how you can overcome his territory.

You push against his chest with a hand and he follows the motion sitting up with you and slipping his fingers out. He might be dominating but he’d do anything for a beautiful creature such as yourself. As he’s up you sit on your knees before him and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

Stopping only four buttons down you look into his eyes with mischief in mind. You tear open his shirt the same way he did to your dress. Taking his medallion in your hands you pull on it just enough so his lips are once again close to yours. “I’ll get you a new one”. You smirk at him and his hint of a smile grows a little larger from your playfulness.

You unlatch the buckle on his pants and push him back onto the mattress. It was your turn to be the cat climbing over him.

As your breasts dangle in his face he starts to take his trousers off. You stop him and do it yourself, throwing them on the floor. Now he’s just as vulnerable as you.

Starting from his ankles you prowl your way to his hardness.

Within your grasp, it is firm and thick. Only growing thicker as your breasts hang in his face again. This throat purs with his low-toned vibrations making you chuckle. Lifting his head, he places his mouth on your breast while placing a hand on your waist. This leaves your entrance to hover over his cock in your hands. A tease for you both as you continue to move your hand up and down his shaft while his tip kisses your wetness.

Moaning and humming, you both stay here in this series of actions. But he desires more of you. Moving his mouth away from your breast, he places both of his hands on your waist. “I trust you remember our horseback lesson, yes?” He says looking at you.

Your grin is naughty after he says this. With his permission you slide onto his mass, stretching you, while he guides you with his grip on your hips. His length fills you and you struggle to look at him straight. It’s just too large to handle without going slow.

Now that you’re sitting upon him, you start to ride. Just like he taught you. Starting slow you bounce up and down letting your hair hang in front of your face. The pleasure is too much to bear with eyes open. Grabbing your face again he says “Look up, darling”.

His grip tilts your head up to face a mirror you failed to notice at the other end of the room, facing right at you. You also fail to continue to ride him, now distracted by the surprise of your reflection. With your hips now hovering, he gives you another surprise and starts to thrust into you. You start to close your eyes again as your face scrunches in pleasure.

“Keep watching.” He tightens his grip on your face as moans continue to escape your mouth. And you watch as he fucks you. He frees his hand on your hip for a moment to smack your ass as it creates a tantalizing sting, leaving your cheek red. He watches as you watch your reflection jolt up and down from his thrusts. Moving his hand down to your throat, he flirtatiously chokes you, while he arches his head back to watch the mirror with you.

Reaching a hand to hold his arm that has a grasp on your throat, he finally lets you throw your head back as you grow tighter around him. “Gods…” You exclaim. “You feel…so…fuck”. He chuckles low at you and starts to thrust at a faster pace.

As you both get closer to ecstasy his hands move back to your hips, and you bow down to meet his temple. Moaning into each other’s mouths, the sensation of your parts meeting is what the afterlife should feel like. It’s more than safe to say that this is the furthest you’ve taken each other than ever before.

Your temples continue to meet as he trusts, and your grip on his shoulders tightens as you feel yourself pulse around him. Holding you close his movements get tighter and tighter. Until finally, a rush of sensation washes over you and within you, as he finishes as well.

Slowing down, sweat drips from your brow. He lets you feel him twitch inside you before lifting you by your hips while you gasp at the release of fulfillment. You feel the mixture of fluid drip down your inner thigh, a satisfying tickle.

You both try to catch your breaths lying on his chest. As your hand lays on his heart you feel his body rise and fall with each breath. It’s so calming here, even if your legs already feel sore. He puts a hand on your back to soothe you.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You realize that you had forgotten the original intention of lingering at his door. “I am feeling…” Sitting up you look into his eyes, tucking a piece of hair away from his face. “Magnificent.” A well-earned and rare smile appears on his face as he looks into your eyes. You feel proud to know you made The Witcher smile for once.

[steviebbboi]

geralt of revia freeuse, creampie, cumeating, reformed playboy trope please

Hi nonnie~ thanks for sending in these asks for my 200 Follower Celebration! Thank you so very much for sending in a writing request 💙 i'm hoping that it hits the spot! (ik Geralt def. does in this drabble 😏)

Btw, just calling this in very lovingly that I noticed that you have sent in more than two asks so I just wanted to let you know that I have only answered two of them for the sake of following the challenge's rules (and to make space for other requests that folx have sent in!). Hope you could understand, and hope that you do very much enjoy the ones that have been written~

The Witcher's Conquest

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Sorceress!Reader

W/C: 1.4k

Prompt(s): Reformed Playboy AU, freeuse, creampie, cumeating

*also included: MINORS DNI, THIS IS 18+, p in v sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), body worship, overstimulation.

Disclaimer: I wrote this one on my phone so I didn't get the chance to edit but promise to edit any mistakes once I am able!

“Geralt - this spell is not going to create itself.” You giggled while pushing away the wandering hands digging its way past the layers of your dress.

Geralt merely smirked at your attempts to push him away as he placed his rough hands against the bodice of your dress, stroking the material intimately as if it was a layer of your skin. 

Leaning his taut body into yours, his grip becoming greedier against your curves and trailing down to grasp onto your hips. He grunted his pleasure at the feeling of your warmth seeping through the thin fabric. “Leave it for now, darling. It’s been too long.”

Despite your attempts to grab the rosemary across the table to finish the spell, you leaned back into his reliable stature happily and turned your head to look up at his teasing, lustful eyes with your coy ones, “You’ve had me just last night.” 

Not missing a beat, he ferally growled his response, “As I said, it’s been too long.” 

Turning your body around to face him– in a spur of a moment, your legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck as he propped you up higher and supported your weight easily. His hands roughly groped your plush ass as he held your aroused gaze with his own intensity of want in his golden irises. Maintaining eye contact, he carried you over to your shared bed, the sheets still tussled from the passion you both had the night before. 

What Geralt and you have was special and a unity within its own right. Geralt has had many women before, whether they were tramps, sorceresses, or women he has stumbled across during his travels. 

But you, you were different. You were not a night of pleasure to leave behind nor were you a temporary patch up for him to feel sated until his next night with a woman. You were a conquest to win over. But not for your body nor for your power, nor for a night of a solace. 

But for your heart. 

The bravest, most powerful and gracious woman that he has ever met. The night that you healed him from his battle with a creature that was more formidable than he realized. The days that followed in how you helped repair not just his body but his soul. 

He knew then and there that when his body was able, he had to have you. And he ravished you.

The same intensity of love and genuine care from the first night that he had you was sparking even now as he kneeled in between your legs, his tongue stroking your weeping pussy as if it's the last night that he could ever have you. 

Your sweet sounds of sheer pleasure echoed the cozy home that you have built for yourself. A quaint and humble space that has held the many pleasured noises of your coupling since you’ve invited him into your life. Dark green leaves plastered against the wooden walls adorned with natural beauty, radiating light and warmth, creating a haven of peace against the dark world.

Enraptured in your bubble of bliss, Geralt’s rough grip held your legs open wider for him as he burrowed his mouth deeper into your aching cunt, his own satisfied groans rumbling against your wet clit. Your pussy quivered at the feeling of his tongue stroking and sucking expertly on your bundle of nerves. Making out with your pussy, he looked up at the content expression and pleasured smile on your face as he fucked your hole with his seeking appendage. 

The way that you enjoyed his worship made him even more feral and harder for you. He grunted into your pussy again– the bedding providing an unsatisfying substitute for him to rub his erection against as his tongue lapped at your wet greedily faster. 

Your moans became louder as your grip on his shined silver hair became tighter to hold his mouth even closer to your cunt. Your hips started rocking against his mouth that followed to not lose its source of sustenance. The delight that you were taking in his mouth eagerly pleasing you made you succumb to a fuzzy ‘far-away’ feeling, and you seeped deeper into it as Geralt traced his hand against your thigh to stroke at the opening of your cunt. A gasp broke free from your bite-ridden lips as you felt one of his fingers breach your tight opening, his tongue still caressing your clit. 

“Look at you, my flower,” Geralt smirked against your swollen clit and deliberately lapped at it in a teasing manner.

Inserting one more finger inside of you, you keened and your hips were now wild and uncontrollable as you writhed at the feeling. His burly arm held you down as he took more essence, which is what he wanted and needed from you. He returned his attention back to your clit and thrusted his fingers even deeper and faster inside of you. 

Still lapping leisurely, he chuckled at how already fucked-out you looked. He loved making you lose your inhibitions like this, and to know that you readily accepted everything that he took from you. Your whimpers, your wetness that was clinging beautifully to the bedding underneath you. 

Ready to see you fully lose your head, he crooked his fingers just so and witnessed your eyes roll back in your head as your back arched radiantly. Moans and needy whimpers caught in your throat as you finally let go in ecstasy.

Geralt groaned against your pussy and it was his turn to greedily take from you as you poured your delicious essence into his wanting mouth.

Your body became limp after you gave all that you could. Trying to catch your breath, you could barely acknowledge the loss of Geralt’s mouth and fingers until you felt something bigger brush against your sopping cunt. 

“Oh, you didn’t think we were finished darling?” At the mocking voice, your glinted eyes looked up at Geralt to find him stroking his large cock as he stroked the pre-cum coated mushroom tip against your swollen clit. 

He grunted in satisfaction at the feeling of your velvet walls gripping him so heavenly as he pushed in. His slow plunge allowed for the both of you to feel your union even more passionately. Deep and hard strokes were the only thing that you were capable of feeling in that moment. 

“That’s right, flower. Heavens, my little witch just letting me have you whenever I want. Fucking take it.” Geralt groaned as his own head tipped back at how tightly you were clenching around him. The pleasure was incomparable and so decadent, a feeling that he has only ever felt with you. 

You sobbed as his thrusts became faster but the depth of his cock still reached spots inside of you that no other man could ever reach. Tilting his hips just right, his wide cock brushed against that spot once again, over and over again that made you see those familiar stars. 

A flaming white heat enveloped your body once more as the stars burst. Screams of pleasure escaped your hoarse throat as you came around Geralt’s cock that was still thrusting ferociously into your wet pussy.

It only took three more thrusts, with how tight you were squeezing him, he couldn’t hold back anymore as he grunted his release. Your fluttering eyes only rolled back some more at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim.

Geralt was catching his own breath as he looked down to see a mix of you and him coating his half-hard length. A full blown smile gracing his usually frowned lips at the stunning sight. He could already feel his body reacting to the absolute bliss that overcame his mind. 

His mind made up with the easiest decision that he made every time that you have made love, the both of you released another gratified moan at Geralt pulling out of you carefully.

You sighed in confusion at first as you watched Geralt lean down on his knees again to lap at your cum-drenched opening. Geralt lapped fully over your lips and clit to get you clean again, going slow as he noticed your whimpering at how sensitive you were.

Once you were empty of your shared love, you cried out as you felt Geralt thrust his hardened cock inside of you again. 

“My little flower, we’re not done until I say that we are done. Until you understand that I don’t ever need anyone else. You’re mine to fuck, to use,” He groaned out deeply, your pussy already warming his cock as wetness seeped out of you once more, allowing him to thrust even deeper inside of you than before. 

Tears of bliss left your crossed eyes as you mindlessly heard his last words reverberate in your ears.

“Whenever I want.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading! Off to write the next request :)

Tag(s) List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes

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[xzaddyzanakinx]

FOUND THIS VA ON REDDIT AND HE SOUNDS LIKE GERALT. Currently dying, screaming, crying throwing up.

This is so good.

Geralt if you see this, fuck me with the hilt of your sword please and thank you.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 26

Jaskier has been recognized as the runaway viscount of lettenhove by a band of bandits. Embarrassingly, they seemed to have found him in the midst of buying a personalized gift addressed "To My Beloved." Perhaps a hairclip shaped like a dandelion, or perhaps an embroidered handkerchief, or something else dainty and delightful. The bandits drag Jaskier away for ransom, even as he tries futilely to explain that his lover will NOT be polite to them if they continue down this road. I mean, whatever fancy shmancy noblewoman whose skirt he's chasing can't be that threatening to their operation, right? They write up a ransom note, intending on sending it along with a lock of Jaskier's hair, and a few drops of his blood to show they're serious. They slice across Jaskier's wrist, but there's much much much more blood than they expected, because the man slicing his wrist is suddenly missing his head. Huh. Perhaps they've underestimated Jaskier's beloved. He did try to warn them.

[schleiereule-94]

A Bard and a Witcher – Part 2

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier x aFab!Reader

Summary: The morning after an eventful evening spent with Geralt and Jaskier you start exactly where you stopped the night before.

Warning(s): SMUT MINORS DNI, porn w/o much plot, fingering, penetrative sex (lots of it), unprotected p in v, threesome, dirty talk (both degrading and some praise, cursing), rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (m receiving), she is not talking much but enjoys being used. A very slight hint of feelings.

Author’s Note: Not beta read and not an english native, so be kind if you find mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 here

You fell asleep quickly after the two men had tucked you under the covers. Your body feeling limp and warm, you happily drifted off into dreamland. You only wake up hours later, when a sunray hits your forehead. You squint your eyes open, still feeling dozy and at first you don’t know exactly where you are. A bulky figure lays in front of you, blocking out most of the sun. Yellow eyes watch you intently. And they immediately bring back the memories from last night. You also register a body pressed into you from behind and an arm around your waist. Jaskier’s breath is deep and regular at your neck, he is still asleep. 

When the witcher realises you are awake a small smile lightens up his features. He extends his arm to put a string of hair that has fallen into your face behind your ear and rest his hand gently on your cheek. It is warm and big, extending from your jaw up to your temple. “Morning darling. How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. He is very close and even though his eyes and gestures are very soft and relaxed you are still intimidated. “I’m…, I’m great actually”. You sound sleepy and your voice is hoarse. From taking too much cock down your throat probably, your brain provides a reason. The thought makes you grin and a slight shiver of excitation runs down your body. The witcher is still looking at you. “You are very pretty” he states softly and his hand travels from your face down to your shoulders. He slowly slides down your arm, taking the blanket off your upper body and leaving behind a trace of goosebumps. You hum under his gaze and get more awake by the second. As he uncovers your bare breasts you try to cover yourself up by reflex, but he catches your hands and decisively puts them back down. “Relax”. You feel your cheeks redden a bit, but you loosen up. The witcher leans in closer, your faces just centimetres apart. You feel his breath on your skin and shudder slightly. You feel like you are laying next to a big wild wolf. He’s tranquil for now, but you know he could devour you any second. “What is your name”, he asks while interlacing his fingers in some strands of your hair. “Y/n”, you say, mouth dry and hypnotised by the yellow eyes examining your face. You feel like he sees directly into your soul. 

Geralt leans forward over your head and inhales deeply in your hair. “Mhh you smell as delicious as you taste sweet girl”. His eyes have a faint animalistic glint to them when he turns them back to you. You don’t know what to say. He looks so perfect, the sun lighting up his white hair. Mesmerized, and before you think more about it, you grab a strand and let it slide through your fingers. It feels like silk. Geralt looks amused. “I’ve never met a man like you”, you tell him without looking into his eyes. His broad chest is lightly covered in hair, adorned with his witcher medallion. You feel the urge to touch him, feel his heart beating to make sure he is real. He looks more like an angel in the morning sun, even though you are very aware that he is everything but. “They say that witchers can’t feel anything. That you don’t have emotions.” You shyly look back up into his face, looking for an answer. “Do you believe them?” he asks. You hesitate. “I don’t know.” You lean forward and rest your hand on Geralt’s hot chest feeling it rise and fall. He lets you caress him, watching your hand wander up to his collarbone and down his muscular arms. You trace a vein on his bicep. “I want to find out” you whisper. 

Geralt puts his hand under your chin, lifting you head up. For a moment you are trapped in his gaze, but you free yourself by closing the short distance and kissing his perfect lips. He tastes of wood and danger, deep and bittersweet. His teeth brush your lower lip and his tongue licks into your mouth, slowly but determined. Suddenly you don’t feel relaxed and cosy anymore, but restless and turned on. His hand comes up behind your head to hold you onto the deepening kiss. He has you breathless in no time and you moan softly into Gerald’s mouth. 

As you pull back to catch your breath, Jaskier, woken up from the stirring next to him, nuzzles his head into your neck. “Good morning sweetheart” he hums into your ear. “Can I get a good morning kiss too?”  You smile and turn your head to kiss the bards much finer lips. He tastes like wine and smoke, light and fun. You can feel his naked body pressed into your curves and his morning hard-on on your lower back. You grind your hips back into him. “Morning bard. Had sweet dreams about me?” you tease him. Jaskier chuckles. “You really want to start over where we stopped yesterday, hm”. His hand wanders from your hip where he had placed it, upwards to grab one of your boobs. “Mh so warm and cosy” he mutters. He looks over to Geralt who is still laying on his side silently watching the two of you. “Mind if I interrupt your make-out session?” Geralt makes an assertive gesture with his head. “Go ahead.” His voice has dropped, and heat is radiating from his body, you feel like bathing in it. “You look at me”, he orders you and takes your chin between two of his fingers. Naturally, you nod your head at the commanding tone.

All your senses are absorbed by Gerald’s yellow eyes and Jaskier’s talented fingers massaging and lightly twisting your sensitive nipples. You feel them hardening under his touch and start to pant, your mouth agape. The tingly feeling of arousal travels down your body and directly into your core. You feel wetness starting to pool between your legs and you wiggle your hips again into Jaskier’s cock, hot and flush against your lower back. The bard starts to move downwards, head nested at your neck, kissing and licking stripes up to your ear that make you shiver. Geralt’s eyes are fixed on the goosebumps appearing all over your skin. Jaskier pushes against your butt, and you angle your pelvis back so the head of his hot cock enters between your legs. With a light thrust Jaskier slips between your thighs that are slick from sweat and your excitation. “Mh look at you, all wet for us again” he licks at a very sensitive spot behind your ear making you shudder and your breath hitch. You close your eyes, but Gerald makes you open them again quickly. “I said, look at me” he growls, while yanking the blanket off your body completely. The cold air hits your sensitive skin and you suddenly feel very exposed. Jaskier is lazily thrusting between your thighs, holding your breasts in both hands. You can hear him panting and purring sweet praises into your ear. “Such a beautiful girl, could play with you all morning, baby.” He pinches your nipples and the pain shoots directly between your legs. You need friction, but Jaskier’s thrusts are just missing the one spot where you need it most. You clench your thighs together, which makes the bard hiss, but it is not really helping you. You look up at Gerald. “Please” you beg him. “Please what sweetheart? Do you need help?” The witcher has not moved from his sideways position from where he is studying your every move, all expressions, all your sounds. “Yes, please sir, I need to be touched”. “Where do you need to be touched, little lady?” He puts his big hot hand square on your lower belly, slowly travelling over your navel down towards the spot between your legs where the head of Jaskier’s red and swollen cock appears rhythmically. “Yes, down, please” you breath weakly. The witcher extends his long middle finger, caressing over the little curly hairs covering your vulva. He is agonizingly slow, enjoying the pained and eager expressions crossing your face. Finally, he enters between your folds, rubbing lightly over your most sensitive spot. “Here? Do you need to be touched here?” “Yes, ah yes sir” you moan between your teeth. Geralt looks deeply into your eyes as he starts drawing little circles on your clit. Your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling fast. The combination of Jaskier’s hot dick pulsating between your legs, fingers playing with your nipples and Gerald’s warm hand on your lower belly, massaging just the right spot between your clenched thighs, all under his watchful gaze, turns you on immensely. You start bucking your hips into Gerald’s hand, needing more friction, more pressure. 

“Let me have her”, Jaskier pants and grabs at your hipbone, dragging your ass backwards and changing the angle between your bodies. And with one quick thrust he is in you. The feeling of fullness is so sudden that you cry out loud. The bard pulls out almost completely just to slam back into you. Your moans mix with the slapping sound of naked bodies meeting with force. Geralt’s hand is still there on your clit, pressing down and drawing ever faster circles. The pressure on your bladder makes you feel like peeing. “I am, I am going to come” you announce just moments before your belly convulses and you clench your eyes close, seeing stars. You hear Jaskier gasp as he fucks you through your orgasm, hitting this sweet spot deep inside you with perfect accuracy. You moan and let the fire rip though you.

Two fingers on your jaw bring you back down to earth. Jaskier’s hand digs into your hips and your body is shaken every time he enters your soaked pussy. Gerald is staring at you, his own arousal now clearly visible in his face, lips tight and pupils blown. “Open your mouth” he commands and you follow obediently. With his middle finger he spreads your own juices on your lower lip before entering your mouth. “Now suck”. You do as your told, without taking your eyes away from his, seeing his gaze darken as you lick around his fingertip.

Your body is still rocked back and forth as Jaskier is chasing his own release. “Hold her still” he asks of his friend. Gerald withdraws his finger from your mouth with a plop to grip your hips in a stronghold as his friend starts pounding for good. You close your eyes and just give yourself to the feeling of being opened up again and again until you hear Jaskier start to breath irregularly and feel him twitch inside you. You try to grind your hips deeper into him, but Gerald’s grip on you makes any movement impossible. Every single one of his fingers will leave a bruise in your flesh. He is staring at your trembling breasts with heat in his eyes. Jaskier enters you one, two, three more times before he stalls, pelvis flush with your ass, and with a guttural grunt you feel his balls empty themselves. It feels so dirty and arousing at the same time, you moan loudly. After a few moments Jaskier collapses next to you, his now half-hard dick slipping out of you with an almost obscene squelching sound. You hiss from the loss as semen runs down your thigh. 

You are aware how Geralt is looking at you, his gaze burning your skin. “You like this, hm, getting fucked by this bard? Getting pounded properly?” “Yes”, you mutter, “like to be fucked by good dick.” You grin at him. “I can take some more.” “Is that right? You haven’t had enough yet?” In an instant Geralt is on top of you, weighing you down heavily and taking the air out of your lungs. You try to touch his bare chest but he pins both your hands down at your sides before licking a strip from your throat up to your ear. You can feel his huge bulge and try to buck your hips up into him. Fuck, you want him so badly. Geralt moves his mouth down to your breasts and takes one of your pesky nipples between his teeth. You cry out, the sensation almost too much. The witcher brings up a knee between your legs. His thigh presses into your mound as he grinds into you. The juices coming out of you soak through his thin clothing. “Dirty little whore hasn’t even dried up and already wants to fuck again” Geralt mutters, sending shivers down your spine. He sits up onto his knees and looks over you. The wild wolf is ready to devour you now. 

Geralt kneels between your legs, clearly enjoying the view of you squirming under him. With one of his long fingers he catches a stream of Jaskiers semen slowly dripping out of your cunt. He looks at it closely, then holds it in front of your face. “Taste”. You stick out your tongue to lick the glistening white from his finger. It tastes salty and tangy. “Good girl” the witcher growls and finally moves to undo his pants. As he shoves them down his thighs his erect member springs free, big and prodding. Precum has gathered on the tip and long veins run along it. You want to trace them with your tongue. Your mouth feels dry and your stomach flutters from anticipation. Geralt lowers himself down and very slowly drags his member through your wet folds. “Mh please, Geralt” you try to entice him. But he just lubes up his dick and sits up again. He starts pumping himself lazily with one hand while eyeing you from above. You are so turned on, your skin feels like it is set on fire and it takes all your resolve to not grab at the witcher to try to pull him down towards him.

Jaskier, who had been recovering on the other side of the bed has turned his attention to the action again. “Get behind her” the witcher says over your head in his direction. A naked Jaskier climbs behind you, his hair still moist from sweat, with a grin on his face. Your head comes to rest on his chest as he sits against the bedframe. The bard immediately takes both of your breasts into his hands. Grabbing from below he brings them up to squeeze them together. “Such fantastic tits, m’lady” he whispers into your ear and kisses your neck. You cannot respond as your mind is caught up in watching Gerlat slowly fucking into his big hand while his dick somehow grows even larger and redder. Your pussy clenches in anticipation. “Please” you try your best puppy eyes on him, “I need to feel you inside. Need to be stretched and used. I need you to use me”. Your begging seems strike a cord in the witcher. Gerald leaps down onto both of you, grips your ankles and puts them up onto his shoulders, your lower back now elevated and just Jaskier holding you in place. Geralt’s pulsating member prods at your entrance. “I will show you what a perfect toy you are, whore” the witcher growls and finally, finally enters you. He still doesn’t slam, but it’s forcible enough for you to feel an almost painful stretch. Your mind goes blank, and you only realize that you have been crying out as you gasp for air. 

You are pressed into the bards torso as Geralt truly starts pounding into you. You hear him grunting and his face has lost any semblance of being human. He more than ever looks like a wild, furious animal. He grabs one of your wrists and pushes your palm onto your lower belly. “Do you feel me filling you up? Hmm, feel how I fill you all the way to your gut” “Yes sir, I can feel you” you answer weakly. Geralt grunts and presses your hand down hard onto where your belly bulges as he slides in and out of you. You wine from the extra stimulation, your head is spinning ever faster. You feel Jaskier’s hardening cock against your backside while the witcher is over you fucking the air out of your lungs. Jaskier snakes his hand down your body and finds your clit. Your whines become ever louder as the searing heat starts building in you. You come within seconds, crying out loudly. Your stomach visibly clenches, your whole body shakes as the fire spreads from your lower belly into every corner of your being. You feel your pussy flooding and it washing over Geralts cock and drip down over your ass. Sweat makes your body glide against the one below you as you are rocked up and down by Geralts thrusts. Jaskier is desperately rutting up into you while holding you tight against his frame. You see stars and your ears are ringing when you feel first Jaskier and then Geralt finding their releases. Hot cum shoots both into and onto you. Jaskier moans into your ear and you can feel Gerald’s cock twitching inside you as he empties himself into you. The aftershock spasms in your lower belly make you moan his name for what feels like an eternity. 

Your back is wet and sticky, but you couldn’t care less. Jaskier holds you in a tight but soft embrace while your breath and heart rate are coming down to normal. Geralt has collapsed forward above you, but is holding himself up on his arms, head down and white hair spreading around your midsection. His cock is still inside you, softening slowly. Nobody moves, only heavy breathing can be heard for a while. You never want to move again.

Geralt lifts his head to look into your eyes asking a silent question. You smile weakly back at him. Yes, you are ok. In fact you are great. Just perfect. Afterglow spasms of the hardest orgasm of your life are still running through your body. You clench down onto Geralt and he glides out of you. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Geralt cups your face and leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Well done little lady”. You heart and body are warm and a big wide, drunken smile is plastered over your face. 

Jaskier stirs below you and you slide down his right side. “I guess these bedsheets are ruined anyway” the bard states as he starts to dry his chest and belly off all the fluids that made their way between your bodies using the blanket. It takes another 5min of you colleting yourself before you sit up onto the bedside. A half-clothed Geralt helps you up on shaky legs to walk you to the fire where the men had put a pot of water to heat. They help you clean yourself with a hot towel. You smile at them. It is nice being cared for so gently. Geralt caresses your hair and cheeks. His sweet gesture at odds with the intimidating armour and sword he is putting on. “Thank you” he says finally after he made sure you were string enough to stand on your own again. “We have to leave now, heading up north. But we might come back in a few weeks.” You grasp his strong arm. “I will make sure to get word of your arrival” you say leaning your head into Geralt’s big palm. Jaskier, hugs you from behind. “We wouldn’t want to miss you!” He places a big hearty kiss on your cheek. “I might compose a song about you!” With this he lifts up the packed bags and makes his way downstairs to saddle the horses. 

Geralt still kneels before you. His thumb caresses over your lips as he gets up. He places a kiss on your hair. As he turns around to leave you hold his arm back. “You know, I think they are wrong.” Geralt turns his head with a questioning face. “I think witchers do have feelings. At least one does.” Geralt nods slowly, turns around and leaves with what you think might be a little smile.

[kte-alxxndr]

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[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 3- Geralt of Rivia

Authors Note: Y'ALL I AM SO SORRY! I thought I scheduled it and I do monthly breaks from all social media! Omg I really screwed y'all over! I AM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY. How can I make it up birdies?

Word Count: 3093

Description: Part One and Part Two

Warnings: Heavy smuttt y'all

Enjoy!

Before Geralt had lost his entire life he was told as a child that there was always a beginning, middle and end. And though most people always thought that this merely pertained to stories his parents always told him that they belonged to humans too.

Every human had a beginning, middle and end.

Every monster had a beginning.

Every Saint had a beginning.

But none of them mattered right now, because all Geralt could think of right now was you. Your beginning, middle and end. He wanted to know more of your story more than he ever had before. 

You had both settled down at a rundown inn, him covering his hair and you covering the bruises someone had left on your neck. The innkeeper, a straggly old lady that could barely turn to grab the key to the rooms, barely cast either of you a glance. 

You kept close to him as you both made your way up the stairs, and Geralt was embarrassed to admit that a surge of pride crossed through him at this. You seek his warmth and protection, and he would give it. He would give you anything you wanted. 

Yennifer had left as soon as she could, saying that she would be going to find Jaskier and letting him know they found you. 

Geralt would keep you with him in the inn, per Jaskiers request. The bard pretends to worry about you with all the traveling, claiming that it would be best if he came to the two of you. Geralt saw the lie, he just could not give a shit. 

Instead he started a fire, setting you in front of it and mumbling that he would be right back. You snatch to grab his upper arm when he moves to leave, but he merely nods, letting you know it is okay to let go. So you do, swiping your fingers under your eyes quickly, but it was too late and he had already seen the tears.

He makes the trip quick, buying you warmer clothes and heading back and ordering some hot stew from the innkeeper, heading back to the room when she tells him she will bring it. 

You are right where he left you when he comes back in, this time a little closer to the fire and curled up a little tighter. Geralt, who had always struggled to sneak around, tried to lighten his footsteps as he neared you. 

“I brought some fresh clothes. How about a bath and a change?” He asks, his voice scratchy from lack of use, but he does his best to keep it gentle. 

You shake your head, the slightest of movement that somehow managed to clench his heart in his chest. “I’m too tired.”

“Allow me.” He whispers, holding out his hand for you. 

“Allow you?”

“To bathe you.”

“You would do that?” You smile, the beginning of a laugh climbing up your throat at the thought. 

“It would be my honor.” His tone makes it sound like he is teasing, but there is nothing but seriousness behind that comment. 

“You won’t jest?”

“Never.”

And at the simple touch of your fingers reaching up to his own has his skin on fire, shaking slightly as he helps your stand, shuffling to the bathroom and leading you to the center of the room and turning to heat the bottom of the tub with fire as he waits for you to get undressed 

But when he turns back to you he finds you waiting patiently, still in the gaudy thin dress, watching slowly. 

You seem fazed out now, eyes shuttering as you reach to him and begin untying his own shirt. A moment of startlement crosses him before he reaches a hand up and stops you by grasping your own in his larger palms. He rubs softly as he tries to relax you, shaking his head. 

“Not me. You.”

“You, with me.”

“I do not want to-”

“I don’t wanna be exposed alone.” It’s then that Geralt knows what you mean. You don’t want to be the only one naked and vulnerable. So he would join you. Anything for you. 

He turns to undress as you undress yourself, and once he hears you get into the tub he turns himself, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. 

Your breasts are just barely covered by the water, and within that moment you managed to tie your hair up with a leather scrap, exposing the bruised neck and collarbone . In this moment you looked broken, and still astonishingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair. 

He takes a moment to climb in, and suddenly he feels the stress from the last few months beginning to fade from his body as he nears you, sitting across from you knee to knee. 

Silence fills the room, and Geralt stresses to find something to say as you lean forward to rest your forehead on his knee. 

“Turn around so I can wash your hair.” He whispers, allowing you room to do so and beginning to work on your hair with the soap. “My parents used to tell me stories.”

“About kings and dragonslayers?”

“No, about monsters.” 

“How so?”

“They used to tell me that the saints and the monsters of the world all had stories of their own, that everyone you come across has a beginning, middle and end.” 

You turn slightly to watch him, and he does his best to seem relaxed. 

“I spent most of my time stressed in impressing and protecting you.” He whispers. “I was gruff, which I do with most people. Keeping you and everyone else at arm's length.”

“I’m trying to see how this relates, witcher.”

“I want to know your story, I want to know your beginning and middle and I am desperate to be with you until the end.”

“Why would you want to know all of that?”

“I have found that, even with you mad at me, that I am nothing in this world without you.”

“I will tell you everything if you tell me everything.”

—------------

You fall asleep listening to him whisper the same stories his parents once told you, rubbing your hair softly as you keep your nose shoved into his chest. 

You awake around midnight screaming, it takes Gerat a couple minutes to calm you down before he moves to start another fire, bringing you closer to it for warmth and letting you lay in front of it. 

The days follow as this, staying by the fire in the cold winter air, whispering back and forth. Eating the stew and roasts the innkeeper made. 

You tell him about your life, and he tells you about yours. 

Finally you ask. 

“Shouldn’t you be out there? Working for the people?” Your head is laid out on his thigh as he watches the snow fall from the window. “I have never known you to sit still, Geralt.”

His heart lurches at the sound of his name falling from your lips. “I have spent the past few weeks working…..for you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask quickly, lifting your head from his thigh, eyes traveling his scarred abdomen before landing to his eyes. 

“I was trying to buy out the contract. For you?”

“Why would you do that? How much money did that end up being?”

“Not enough. It seems that the monster of a brothel keeper and I can agree on one thing, you are priceless.”

“Then how-”

“Yennifer smuggled you out-”

“Then what of the coin?”

“It’s yours. It’s all yours if you want it. Enough to buy a cottage in the hillside for years and-”

“And what if I wanted to stay with you? And Jaskier? Or do you not want me?”

“There is nothing more that I want than you. But I treated you horribly-”

You snap to stand then, hair flipping as you stomp across the room to fling a pillow at him. “How so?”

“That night, you were under a spell and I was so close to absolutely defiling you-”

“I wanted it! If you weren’t so pigheaded you would know that those charms only work if the one wearing it is-” 

“Stop.” There was a heavy force in the room, pressing through his chest to his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Stop what?”

“This will ruin everything-”

“How. So.”

“BECAUSE I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” He yells, rubbing at his forehead. “I would rather not have you than lose you. Do you understand?”

“Do you love me?”

“Y-”

“Do you love me as I love you?” 

“Yes.” And just like that the tight feeling in his gut that formed the moment he had laid eyes on you. His body was lighter and his heart felt like it was righted once more. “I love you.”

“Then what does it matter?”

“You’ve….. You have had a long couple m-”

“I want you.” You whisper, slowly tiptoeing around the room. “I trust no one but you. No one has given me the truth more, and protected me more.”

“I was cruel and-”

“I understand now.” You smile, tears filling your eyes. “I’ve seen terrible terrible men-”

His fists clench at his sides, the urge to find every man that harmed you and smash their heads with a hammer, as he watches you move closer until your own hands find purchase on his chest. 

The warmth fills him the second you touch him. 

“But you, in all your gruff warnings and rude awakenings, have never been a bad man.”

“You deserve better.”

“I am a brothel worker. I deserve nothing. But this is not what I deserve, this is what I want. Desperately so.”

“You want me?”

“I need you, Geralt.”

His hands unclench, moving up until they rest at your cheeks as he gazes down at you. “I need you too.”

“Then show me.” It’s a simple whisper, but one he hears through his being all the same, moving you backwards slowly until the back of your knees are pressed to the bed. He waits for you to show him a sign of fear or that you changed your mind. But you merely smile up at him, fingers moving to slide over the scars on his abdomen. 

“I trust you.” You whisper, the tips of your fingers sliding against his skin until they get to the breaches he wears and begin untying them.

“After what you have been through…”

“I want you to remind me of what it could be.” And he can’t help himself after that, moving to grab the bottoms of the night dress, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers graze your thighs while he lifts it up slowly, his heart hammering in his chest as you smile softly, allowing him to stand once more and remove the dress from you. 

You allow him to watch you, the wild look in his eyes as he traces your skin slowly. 

“You’ll tell me the second you change your mind?”

“The very instant.”  It was like a cord snapping, a leash let go and suddenly Geralt could not help himself. In one quick swoop he reaches to toss you onto the bed, watching you with dark eyes while you scooch backwards to get comfortable.

He prowls above you, enjoying the excited gleam in your eye as he crawls between your legs to kiss at your lips softly, then the softness turns to hunger as his hand grabs your jaw and he devours you. Kissing you like a man completely starved of it. 

A soft moan falls from your lips and he is nearly a goner, his breath lost as he pulls back to admire his work, a string of saliva keeping you both connected as you take a moment to open your eyes, lips swollen and red. He holds out his hand, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath before he orders you to “Spit.”

You comply easily, and he stops himself from growling in pleasure before he takes his hand and slaps your cunt harshly, a smile tearing across his face when you moan out before he is crawling back down the bed to shove his face between your legs roughly and lick a stripe between your folds. 

The moment your thighs tighten around his head he vows that he will spend the rest of his life doing this, no matter where and no matter when. He would suffocate in this spot if you would let him. A low growl releases from his chest as you moan, fingers lacing themselves in his hair tightly and tugging as he laps at your clit.

Over and over, feeling you spasm with pleasure twice before you use your hands and tug him up by his hair, whining. 

He drags his eyes up to you then, seeing the tears from pleasure streaming down your cheeks as he kneels in front of you on the bed. 

“Are you hurt?” Even if he had the carnal urge to take you right here and now your safety and well being came first and foremost. You seem to realize this as you move up and reach to wrap your arms around his neck, his hands flying to your sides to help stabilize you. Rubbing softly as he peers down at you, him being twice your size. 

Just the thought of it makes his stomach clench in anticipation as you lean up to kiss him, allowing him to lean you both back down onto the bed and lay over you, picking up the kiss just as hungrily. 

He only pulls away from your kiss to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you reach down to line him up. He has to close his eyes and take in a shuddering breath the second you touch him and it takes everything not to finish there. 

But it is all worth it as he pushes in, a growl once again ripping out of his chest as you moan out, foreheads pressed together as he pushes until he is bottomed out. 

“So….. fuck.”

“Neverstop.” You whine, pressing your chest up into his with your eyes still closed. But that just wouldn’t do. How could he admire your fucked out look if he didn’t have your undivided attention. So he pulls your hair and orders you to open your eyes. 

You don’t listen, instead moving your hips to gain some friction so he shoves his own hips down to keep you pinned into place as he orders one more. “Let. Me. See. Your. Fucking. Eyes.”

When you finally open them he begins moving, a slow pace at first, allowing you to gain pleasure slowly but the second he feels the tightness loosen up and you get wetter he is unleashed, pounding into you at a heavy pace. 

The headboard hits the wall with each hit, and your face is thrown into one of pure pleasure as he keeps going. And Geralt cannot think of anything he has ever done to deserve this. 

He would never actually deserve this, but he was so grateful that you had given him a chance, because this is what pure heaven was. 

“You’re mine.” He grunts out, one fist tightening in your hair as he kisses down your throat, thrusting into you at a rapid pace as your hands fly to scratch down his back in a way that has him holding his breath to stop from finishing. 

“I’m yours.” You moan out, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“I’m never letting y- FUCK- you leave again.”

“I’ll never leave again.” 

“I’ll kill any man that touches you.” 

“No one else.” You cry out, and he feels you tighten around him once more and knows you’re close so he reaches a hand and pinches at your nipple harshly. “Only you Geralt. My Geralt!” You come undone around him, eyes rolling back as he keeps you pressed to his chest and finishes inside you, keeping you as close as he can while letting you both ride out your highs. 

By the time you both finish he lays you both down, his head laying on your chest with him laying between your legs as you play with your hair. 

“I love you…..” You whisper, twirling some of his hair softly.

“I love you.” He replies, moving until his chin is laying on your stomach and he can look up at you. “And I will never let you forget that.”

—-------------

You are awakened by a boot pressing into your cheek as you grumble out and move to push it away. 

“Geralt I swear-” But when you open your eyes you see none other than Jaskier with a cheeky little grin over his face as he stares down at you, a mug of what smells like cider in his hand. 

“Not your lover, but your closest friend.”

“Roach wears boots now?” You laugh, moving to stretch as he rolls his eyes. It had been months since you escaped the brothel, and since everything has changed. Jaskier seems more clingy than ever which was something you only pretended to hate, and Geralt has gone from the stoic asshole to the stoic love of your life…… well in public. 

Behind closed doors he spent most of his time worshiping you. 

“Where is he?” You ask after surveying to find him.

“He took little one to get some water.” 

Another thing that had changed, the young girl that you had smuggled out of a brothel months ago, who has slowly become like a daughter to you, well youngest daughter since you considered Ciri your daughter as well. 

“We’re here!” Y/d calls, her pudgy hand held in Geralts as he leads the girls back, Ciri with a small smile on her face while Y/d rushes to you. “We got water!”

“And Geralt says we have to be off.” Ciri sighs, leaning forward to accept your loving touch as you fuss over her hair. 

“Let’s get on the horses.” Your lover grunts, lifting y/d from under her shoulders and setting her on roach, moving to help Ciri before getting to you. A hand finds purchase on your thigh as you lift yourself onto your horse, smiling down at him. 

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“While you look like that? How will I ever break the love spell?”

“Guess your spellbound then.”

“Always have been.” He kisses your thigh while Jaskier is turned before turning to his own horse and jumping on, making sure y/d is comfortable before moving on.

(I AM SO SORRY, I REALLY THOUGHT I SCHEDULED IT BABES. How can I make it up? I'll do anything.....)

@sagelovesreading

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[sweetdreamcreater]

Secrets of the Forest

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Human Female (OFC)

Warning /tags: smut (18+), NSFW, boob fondling, unprotected sex (practice safe sex, please), creampie, Oral sex, dirty talk, p in v, fingering.

About: Geralt feels horny during their ride through a forest with Andrea (OFC)

Wordcount: Around 3k

Part 1 and 2

Part 3

The forest was alive with the whispers of leaves and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures. Andrea lay beneath the canopy of a towering oak, her body pressed against the soft moss that carpeted the forest floor. Her breath came in shallow, nervous bursts as she glanced at the man beside her—Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf himself. His golden eyes glinted in the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches, piercing yet oddly tender as they lingered on her.

She had always been drawn to him, his quiet intensity, the way he carried himself like a storm waiting to break. But this... this was different. The air between them crackled with something unspoken, something restless and hungry.

Andrea’s heart pounded as Geralt shifted closer, his movements deliberate, almost predatory. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it made her skin prickle with anticipation. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against the curve of her neck, trailing down to the edge of her collarbone. Her breath hitched when he paused, his gaze locking onto hers.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head, her lips parting but no words came out. How could she explain the ache that had been gnawing at her since she first laid eyes on him? It wasn’t just physical—it was deeper, more primal. A need to be consumed, to lose herself in him entirely.

Geralt didn’t wait for her to find her voice. His hand captured her breast again. Andrea gasped, her back arching instinctively as his warm palm cupped her. His touch was firm but not hurried as if he were savouring the moment, memorizing the way she responded to him.

Then his lips found her skin, hot and insistent. Andrea’s breath caught in her throat as he began to tease her nipple with his tongue, circling it slowly before closing his mouth over it. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure spiralling through her body. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into the leather of his armour as he sucked gently, then with increasing pressure.

“Oh gods—” she moaned, her voice trembling, barely audible above the rustling of the trees. But Geralt heard her. He always did. His free hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, holding her steady as he intensified his efforts. His teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, and Andrea cried out, the sound echoing through the forest like a song.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her body quivering under his relentless attention. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as the pleasure grew unbearable and overwhelming. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so exposed, so utterly vulnerable. And yet, she never wanted it to end.

“Geralt…” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Please… don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Instead, he shifted lower, his hands slipping beneath her dress to part her legs. Andrea’s pulse raced as he knelt between her thighs, his golden eyes dark with hunger. He leaned in, his breath warm against her inner thigh, and she shuddered, her entire body tensing in anticipation.

When his tongue finally touched her, it was like being struck by lightning. Andrea gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily as he began to explore her most intimate places. His movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke drawing another broken cry from her lips. He teased her relentlessly, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, flickering strokes that left her trembling.

The pleasure built steadily, each wave stronger than the last until Andrea felt like she was drowning in it. Her hands fisted in the moss beneath her, her cries growing louder, more desperate. She opened her mouth to beg him for release, but all that came out was a strangled sob, her body arching off the ground as he pushed her closer to the edge.

And then, without warning, he stopped. Andrea blinked up at him, dazed and disoriented, her entire body thrumming with unfulfilled desire. Geralt’s lips curved into a faint smirk as he met her gaze, his expression equal parts smug and knowing.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice thick with promise. “I’m not done with you.”

Andrea’s chest rose and fell in uneven waves, her body still trembling from the delicious torment Geralt had just put her through. The air around them felt heavier now, charged with an electric tension that made her skin prickle. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Only a soft, desperate whimper escaped her throat.

Geralt knelt over her, his golden eyes gleaming with hunger as he studied her. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead. His touch was tender, almost reverent, but there was something predatory in the way his gaze lingered on her exposed body.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down her spine. “All spread out for me, completely helpless.”

Andrea swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to respond, to tease him back, but all she could manage was a shaky breath. Her mind was foggy, her thoughts consumed by the ache between her thighs, the need that only he could satisfy.

Geralt leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. “Tell me what you want, Andrea,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “Beg me for it.”

She shuddered, her hands gripping the moss beneath her tighter. Gods, how could he ask her to speak when every inch of her was burning for him? But he waited, patient and relentless, his mouth hovering just above hers, refusing to give her what she craved until she said the words.

“Please,” she finally gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, Geralt… don’t stop. I need you.”

His smirk returned, darker now, more dangerous. “Good girl,” he purred, trailing his fingers down her neck, over her collarbone, and lower still. Andrea arched into his touch, her breathing quickening as he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing lightly over her nipple. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but it was no use—the sound escaped anyway, echoing faintly through the forest.

Geralt moved lower, his hands sliding down her sides, mapping every curve of her body as if committing her to memory. When he reached her hips, he paused, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh, spreading her legs wider. Andrea whimpered, her cheeks flushing with heat as she realized what he was about to do.

He leaned in, his face hovering just above her core, and inhaled deeply, savouring her scent. “So wet already,” he growled, his voice dripping with approval. “You want me that badly?”

Andrea nodded frantically, her hands clawing at the ground beneath her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All she knew was the ache, the unbearable need coiling tighter and tighter inside her.

Geralt didn’t make her wait any longer. His tongue dragged slowly up her slit, teasing her entrance before circling her clit. Andrea let out a strangled cry, her hips bucking instinctively, but Geralt held her firmly in place, his strong hands pinning her down. He licked her again, slower this time, drawing out every sensation until she thought she might lose her mind.

“Oh gods,” she sobbed, her voice breaking as pleasure surged through her. “Geralt, please… more…”

He responded by pressing his mouth harder against her, sucking gently on her most sensitive spot while his tongue flicked rapidly over it. Andrea cried out, her entire body shaking as the pressure built inside her. It was too much and not enough all at once, the pleasure nearly unbearable but still just shy of tipping her over the edge.

Geralt pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her wetness. “Not yet,” he murmured, his tone teasing. “I want to hear you beg some more.”

Andrea’s nails dug into the moss as she glared at him through half-lidded eyes. “You’re cruel,” she panted, her voice trembling with both frustration and desire.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing lazy circles around her clit. “And you love it.”

Before she could retort, he dipped his head again, his tongue plunging into her without warning. Andrea screamed, her back arching off the ground as he devoured her, his movements growing more urgent, more demanding. The sensations were overwhelming, each stroke of his tongue sending jolts of electricity through her body. She clutched at his hair, pulling him closer, needing him deeper, harder, more.

“Yes… yes…” she chanted, her voice rising with every passing second. “Don’t stop… don’t stop!”

Geralt responded by slipping two fingers inside her, curling them expertly against her inner walls as his tongue continued its relentless assault. Andrea’s vision blurred, her cries growing louder, more incoherent. She was close, so close, teetering on the brink of oblivion.

Then, just as she felt herself about to fall, Geralt withdrew, leaving her gasping and trembling on the edge. She stared up at him, her eyes wide with shock and desperation.

“Why?” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “Why did you stop?”

Geralt wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression one of pure satisfaction. “Because I don’t want you coming just yet,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. “Not until I’m inside you.”

Andrea’s breath hitched as he shifted positions, kneeling between her legs. She watched, transfixed, as he freed himself from his trousers, his cock springing free, thick and glistening in the dim light filtering through the trees. Her mouth went dry at the sight, her core throbbing with anticipation.

Geralt gripped himself, stroking slowly as he positioned the tip at her entrance. He looked down at her, his golden eyes blazing with intensity. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

Andrea nodded, unable to form coherent words. Her entire body trembled with need, her hips lifting slightly, silently begging him to take her.

Geralt obliged, pushing into her inch by torturous inch. Andrea threw her head back, a broken sob escaping her lips as she felt him stretch her, fill her completely. He paused once he was fully seated inside her, his hands gripping her hips as he gave her a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint. “So tight… so perfect.”

Andrea’s nails scraped against his arms as she clung to him, her body quivering around him. “Move,” she begged, her voice ragged. “Please, Geralt… move.”

He obeyed, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in with equal care. Andrea moaned, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Geralt set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate, calculated to drive her wild. He kept his pace slow at first, savouring every gasp, every whimper that spilt from her lips.

But soon, even his control began to slip. His thrusts grew faster, harder, the slick sounds of their bodies joining and filling the air. Andrea’s cries grew louder, more frantic, her hands clawing at his back as she neared the edge once more.

“Look at me,” Geralt commanded, his voice hoarse with effort. Andrea forced her eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. He slowed his pace slightly, driving into her with deep, measured strokes that had her seeing stars. “Say my name,” he urged, his tone brooking no argument.

“Geralt!” she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. “Geralt, please… I’m so close! Don’t stop… don’t stop!”

He growled, his hips snapping against hers with renewed vigour. “That’s it, Andrea,” he rasped, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

The command was all it took. Andrea shattered, her climax crashing over her in wave after blinding wave. Her body convulsed around him, her screams echoing through the forest as pleasure unlike anything she’d ever known consumed her.

Geralt followed soon after, his own release triggered by the way she clenched around him. With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep inside her, spilling his seed as her name tore from his lips.

They stayed like that for a moment, locked together as their breathing slowly steadied. Then Geralt pulled out, collapsing beside her on the mossy ground. Andrea turned her head to look at him, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“Told you I wasn’t done with you,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Andrea laughed softly, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “You’re insufferable,” she replied, though there was no real venom in her tone.

Andrea’s body still hummed with the echoes of pleasure, her skin warm and tingling under the cool shade of the forest canopy. Geralt lay beside her, his chest rising and falling steadily, but there was something in the way his golden eyes glinted—something predatory, untamed. She knew that look. It sent a sharp shiver down her spine, anticipation coiling low in her belly.

“You’re looking at me like you want more,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with challenge. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she propped herself up on one elbow, her hair spilling over her shoulder like liquid fire.

Geralt’s gaze didn’t waver. “Do I?” His tone was casual, almost teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrayed him. He reached out, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her hip, sending sparks skittering across her skin. “Maybe I do.”

Andrea’s breath hitched at his touch, and she felt the familiar ache between her thighs begin to build again. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Prove it.”

His smirk was slow, deliberate. Without a word, he shifted, his movements fluid and precise, until he was seated against the gnarled trunk of the tree. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her toward him with a firmness that left no room for resistance. Andrea let out a startled laugh as she found herself straddling him, her thighs bracketing his muscular frame.

His hands slid up her sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before settling on her waist. “Your turn to take control,” he said simply, his voice rough with barely contained desire.

Andrea hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding as she looked down at him. His expression was calm, almost expectant, but the way his fingers dug into her skin told a different story. He wanted this as much as she did—maybe more. The thought sent a thrill through her, and she straightened, rising slightly on her knees to position herself above him.

Geralt’s breath caught as she guided him inside her, sinking down slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Andrea bit her lip, her head falling back as she felt him fill her completely, stretching her in the most delicious way. A low groan escaped her, mingling with the rustle of leaves overhead.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered, his hands tightening on her hips. His jaw clenched as he fought to keep himself still, letting her set the pace. “You feel…”

She didn’t let him finish. With a sharp intake of breath, she began to move, rocking her hips in a slow, sinuous rhythm. Geralt’s grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he helped guide her movements. Andrea’s eyes fluttered closed, her focus narrowing to the sensation of him moving within her, the way every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body.

The forest seemed to fade away around them, the world reduced to the sound of their ragged breathing and the slick, rhythmic sounds of their bodies moving together. Andrea’s pace quickened, her thighs burning with the effort, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Geralt felt beneath her, the way his muscles tensed and quivered with every motion.

“Look at me,” Geralt growled, his voice thick with need. Andrea’s eyes snapped open, meeting his intense gaze. There was something raw, almost primal, in the way he watched her—like he was memorizing every detail, every gasp and moan she made.

She leaned forward slightly, bracing her hands on his shoulders for balance. The change in angle caused Geralt to groan, his hips bucking upward involuntarily. Andrea gasped, her nails digging into his skin as the new position sent a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through her.

“Gods, you’re—” she started, but her words dissolved into a strangled moan as Geralt thrust up into her again, harder this time. Her rhythm faltered, her movements becoming erratic as pleasure overwhelmed her senses.

Geralt didn’t let up. His hands moved to her ass, gripping her firmly as he took over, driving into her with relentless intensity. Andrea’s cries grew louder, echoing through the trees as she clung to him, her body trembling on the edge of release.

“Come on,” Geralt urged, his voice husky and demanding. “Let go.”

As if on command, Andrea’s climax hit her like a thunderclap, her entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her cry echoed through the forest, loud and unrestrained, and Geralt followed her over the edge moments later, his growl of release joining hers in a symphony of raw, unbridled ecstasy.

For a few heartbeats, they stayed like that, locked together as the aftershocks of their shared pleasure rippled through them. Then, slowly, Andrea slumped forward, resting her forehead against Geralt’s as they both struggled to catch their breath.

“Still insufferable,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with warmth.

Geralt chuckled, his hands gently stroking her back. “Admit it,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “You love it.”

________________The End________________

[steviebbboi]

Geralt of Rivia Masterlist

🌶️ = smut; 🥹 = fluff; 🩹 = angst

The Witcher's Conquest 🌶️ (Geralt of Rivia x Sorceress!Reader)

Summary: Geralt has had many women before. You were not like other women. You were his ultimate conquest.

[cowboygenesis]

( ౨ৎ ) MASTERLIST

⤷﹐welcome to the masterlist! navigate my fics with the links below the cut. trigger warnings are listed upon clicking the designated chapter. if you'd like to support my work, here's a link to my ko-fi. please don't interact with my 18+ fics if you're a minor!

★ - author's pick ♡ - fluff ☾ - angst ✿ - smut

౨ৎ series

din djarin

⤷﹐18+ brown eyes | ongoing (6/?) multi-chapter ♡ ☾ ✿

♫ playlist

summary: din settles on the distant planet of lazure prime while seeking a safe-haven for his son. unbeknownst to him, the choice leads him to unforeseen threats—and a deeper connection he never thought possible. (inspired by "rough day" by @no-droids i love you stevie)

tags: canon divergence, slow burn, found family, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual smut, angst, fluff, mild power dynamics, bisexual reader, masked sex, alcohol, mentions of death, trauma, canon typical violence, usage of blasters, blood.

chapter 1: kindness and coin

chapter 2: a sweet brew ♡

chapter 3: the mandalorian

chapter 4: call it like you see it

chapter 5: the armory

chapter 6: spotchka ♡

chapter 7: bang goes something ♡ 70% complete!

↷ to be continued...

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

kylo ren

⤷﹐18+ bump it, cool it | ongoing (13/19) multi-chapter ♡ ☾ ✿ ★

♫ playlist

summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him.

tags: modern!au, slow burn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, fluff, angst, drugs, alcohol, jealousy, heavy flirting, domesticity, attraction denial, potentially unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of cheating, childhood trauma, talks of chronic disease, kylo and rey are related.

chapter 1: charity case

chapter 2: the roommate

chapter 3: al limone ☾

chapter 4: baby, baby ♡

chapter 5: turpentine

chapter 6: aisle 7

chapter 7: rhiannon ♡

chapter 8: thunder dome ♡ ☾

chapter 9: eighty-six ♡

chapter 10: birthday girl ♡ ☾

chapter 11: super silver haze ♡ ☾

chapter 12: terroir ☾

chapter 13: animalica ♡ ☾ ✿

chapter 14: dry down ♡ ☾ ✿ 10% complete!

↷ to be continued...

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gale dekarios

⤷﹐18+ fatum | ongoing (1/2) two-shot ♡ ☾ ✿

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and gods, do they cut deep.

tags: enemies/rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, canon typical violence, forced proximity, near-death experiences, gentle sex.

chapter 1: fatum invenit ♡ ☾

chapter 2: fatum signatum ♡ ☾ ✿ 40% complete!

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geralt of rivia (awaiting rework)

⤷﹐18+ wild woman | ongoing multi-chapter ♡ ☾ ✿

summary: geralt begrudgingly accepts a monster contract issued to him by a strange girl, thinking it to be an opportunity for some quick coin. nothing goes as planned.

tags: slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, monsters, magic, canon typical violence, character death, animal death, original characters, play fighting, overpowering, power dynamics, oral + vaginal sex, public sex.)

chapter 1: redanian ale

chapter 2: sign from the skies

chapter 3: of thunderstorms ♡

chapter 4: a light in the dark: 17% complete!

↷ rework in progress...

౨ৎ oneshots

astarion ancunin

⤷﹐18+ knuckle up | oneshot smut ♡ ✿ ★

summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.

tags: rivals to lovers, fluff, play fighting, overpowering, power dynamics, oral + vaginal sex, public sex (on the forest floor.)

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

geralt of rivia

⤷﹐polite company | oneshot smut ♡ ✿

summary: years after a chance encounter in skellige, a skilled sorceress and an experienced witcher reunite at an annual aretuzan party, reigniting old flames amidst whispers of courtly intrigue.

tags: rivals to lovers, fluff, fated encounters, chasing, mild power dynamics, size difference, oral + vaginal sex, mild plot.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

(all fics listed are my intellectual property and i don't wish for them to be copied or reposted without my explicit consent. thank you for respecting my creativity.)

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Stake to the Heart

Geralt of Rivia/The Witcher x female reader

Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: Aggression/violence, demeaning behavior, derogatory terms, BLOOD, sexual content, possessive behavior, hate fuck to confused fuck to hey I think I might die without you fuck

Info: This NOT Netflix Geralt, this is my husband video game Geralt. He’s totally an ass most of the time (but when he’s not he’s really sweet)

The one where you let Geralt stay in your guest room while he’s in town searching for a blood thirsty vampire. (Uh oh it’s actually you)

“Are you alright? Find anything?” You asked, trying to sound interested and definitely not nervous.

Geralt closed the door behind him, his eyes narrowed in anger as he glared at you. "You know damn well I found something," he growled, throwing his coat onto the couch.

"Come here," he snapped, storming towards you. Before you could react, he grabbed you by the collar of your top and slammed you against the wall, pinning you there with his weight.

“Sh-shit.” You gasped with a trembling voice as your back hit the wall, the air being forced from your lungs, eyes wide with fear.

You expected for him to kill you, drive a stake through your heart and end it right here. But the pain never came; instead of death, he offered you something you wouldn’t have believed if it weren’t for you actively living through it. His mouth hot and warm and desperate for contact with yours. His tongue grazing over your fangs making him moan.

You were so confused… but much too turned on to question what was happening. The way his rough hands and strong arms held you effortlessly aloft; pressing your body in a crushing embrace against the stone wall behind you. Paired with the surprising tenderness of his unexpectedly soft and plump lips against yours. It was almost too much, yet not nearly enough. So you did the only reasonable thing to do in this situation: surrender.

Geralt's hands roamed the expanse of your body, tearing at your clothes as he deepened the kiss. His tongue tangled with yours in a primal dance, the taste of him was mind numbingly addictive; mead and tobacco mixed something oddly sweet. His hips ground against you, pressing his rock hard erection into the softness of your lower belly.

"Mine," he growled between heavy breaths, his voice thick with a lust that was almost tangible. "All mine."

“Oh fuck.” You whimpered, feeling a rush of slick flooding your panties at his words.

“Yeah, yes I’m yours.” You agreed the minute your brain registered the meaning behind his words. You nodded eagerly, gasping as he sucked on the soft skin of your neck.

His teeth grazed the fleshy juncture of your neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of small marks in his wake. His hand moved from its supporting position under your ass to cup your breast roughly through the fabric of your bra.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, biting down harder now that he’d reached less tender flesh.

You helped get rid of the pesky little barrier between his palm and your hardened nipple, arching your back to reach behind you and unclasp your bra. Exposing your soft breasts and pebbled nipples to his hungry gaze.

"Christ... you're perfect." His normally gruff voice was softer, lulling you into a sensual comfort that you’d never felt before.

His golden eyes glowed brightly from the flames of the firelight, making his already intense stare seem hypnotic. With a grunt of finality he hoisted you over his shoulder and smacked your ass for good measure as he swiftly toted you toward the bedroom.

With a surprising gentleness his calloused hands lowered you to the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped himself of his armor. Growling in frustration as he cursed the damned thing for having so many buckles. Tossing the thick leather to the floor he wasted no time in tearing his under clothes off as well before joining you in the rumpled sheets.

All you could do was moan in response, he’d stolen away your ability to speak coherently after you caught sight of his sculpted and scarred abdomen. He smirked down at you with a prideful glint in his eyes, he may be outwardly humble in many ways, but he wasn’t unaware of how attractive he was; that much was clear.

“I-I don’t understand.” You whined, watching him crawl up between your legs. “I thought you’d hate me… Kill me… when you found out.”

He laughed, a true bellowing laugh straight from his chest as if you’d said the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. A devilish grin spread across his lips while he hooked a thick finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down gently.

“Hate you? Not fucking likely," Geralt chuckled, his voice thick with lust. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, so sweet and soft… kind."

The way the words fell from his mouth was… different from anything else you’d heard leave his lips. Though he kept his natural gravely and gruffness to his voice, somehow whether intentional or not, he added an undeniable layer of adoration in the sincerity of his words.

With your panties removed he took your legs into his hands, his fingers nearly touching as they wrapped around the meaty part of your calves, just under the crook of your knees. With a steadying breath he slowly pried your legs apart to look down at your glistening and swollen folds.

You’d never seen him look so weak, so oddly vulnerable. The black of his eyes overtook the golden halo around them, dilating with lustful need. His breathing visibly changed as his grip on your calves tightened.

“Never… never have I seen something so perfect.” He whispered, his eyes roaming your nakedness as if he hoped to memorize each mole, each freckle, even imperfections you thought you had; he coveted as heaven-sent.

His finger tips tickled along the inside of your thigh, your face flushed with the heat of need and alittle bit of embarrassment from how he seemed to worship every inch of you all the way down to your very soul. He stopped momentarily at the apex of your thighs, his palm flattening over your mound as the pad of his thumb tentatively brushed against your slick coated clit.

The noise that bubbled up from his throat at this tiny bit of contact was inhuman, the primal part of his brain begging him to hurry the hell up and fuck you dumb. Though his heart, large and yearning for love quieted those thoughts.

“Let me touch you… please?” His voice cracking under the weight of the tension between you.

“P-please yes.” You whimpered.

“Thank the gods.” He moaned, salivating as he slipped one thick digit between your folds and sunk it deep into your hot, wet cunt.

“Oh…” He trailed off, eyes closing in ecstasy at the realization of just how wet you truly were.

Slowly pumping his finger, massaging circles with his finger tip against the spongy spot deep within in you, making you squirm. Soon enough he slipped a second digit into your pulsing hole, eliciting a gasp from the sudden shock of his fingers stretching you.

“Too much?” He asked, soothing you with his warm palm coming to rest on your hip.

“No. No it’s okay.” You moaned, “just… I need you, I need more.”

“Patience.” He mumbled, knowing you needed this before he would even consider fu- no, making love to you.

He laid flat on the bed between your thighs, putting a pillow under your ass for easier access. He continued his slow stretch with his fingers scissoring in and out with each thrust of his hand.

Bringing his mouth down to taste you after taking a moment to truly enjoy the sight of your swollen cunt swallowing up his fingers. His tongue darted out with the intention to circle your clit but the second he made contact with the warm and smooth flesh he stopped.

“Goddamnit.” He groaned low, his voice unintentionally rasped beyond its usual growl.

He inserted a third finger and stretched you even further, soothing you with his large hand traveling lazily across your breasts. Returning his mouth to your clit to devour you with the fervor of a depraved beast. It was as if the taste of you had set him on fire.

“Fuck… I- you just taste so damn good.” He spoke softly from between your thighs, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“I can’t wait.” He admitted sheepishly. “I mean… I can if y-you need more that’s not what I meant it’s just-“

You cut off his sudden nervous rambling by squishing his cheeks together to get his attention. A wide grin spread across your lips.

“W-what?” He asked in surprise.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You teased, watching his neck get red with embarrassment.

“Shut up. I’m not- nevermind.” He grunted, slowly removing his fingers from your drenched hole.

Moving to kneel in front of your spread legs, slipping off his boxers to reach down and wrap his hand around his massive cock, squeezing the base and rocking his hips forward, fucking his hand. He was truly a sight to behold. This brute of a man, acting this way, it was… strangely angelic.

He rubbed his swollen cockhead around your wet entrance groaning at the feeling of warmth from your pussy.

"I want to fucking own you, claim you as mine forever." His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made you think he truly meant it.

“You c-,” He cut himself off with a loud moan as he slowly inched his way into your tight cunt.

"Tell me you're mine, that you’ll belong to me… th-that you’ll promise me something," he growled, his hand gripping your hair roughly, forcing your head back so he could stare into your wide-eyed gaze.

“Yes, yes I- I’ll be yours, I’m yours.” You nodded vigorously, desperately clawing at his back as your legs wrapped around him.

Geralt groaned in satisfaction as he fully penetrated you, his large member buried to the hilt in your needy pussy.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hips rocking back and forth slowly at first, allowing both of you to adjust to the new sensations.

"Say it again." His voice was low, husky with lust.

“I-I belong to you Geralt. Only you.” You whimpered, hardly able to speak from how overwhelmed by the feeling of being stretched by his thick cock you were.

Geralt picked up the pace, pounding into you harder and faster. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you both, bodies slapping against each other in a primal rhythm. His hand reached down to grope your breasts roughly, pinching and twisting the nipples until they hardened for him.

"That's it," he growled, his hips pistoning deeper. "Now promise me you’ll never fed from someone else again."

“B-but Geralt.” You started to protest.

“Promise me.” He said sternly one hand shooting up to firmly grip your neck. “swear you’ll never do that again.”

“But I c-can’t!” You said frantically.

“You can and you will.” He tightened his grip on your neck and your ass with his other hand as he fucked you mercilessly. “you’ll feed off me and me alone. Everyday if you have too.”

Geralt's eyes flashed with a primal possession as he continued to thrust into you, claiming you body and soul.

"I don't fucking care if you have to hold me down and drain me till I bleed out," he growled, his voice deep and commanding. "You belong to me now, and you’ll only feed from me."

In response, you moaned in agreement, nails scratched down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. He could feel your pussy rhythmically pulsing, knowing your orgasm was building rapidly.

“Do you understand me?” He growled aggressively shaking you by the neck.

“Y-yes… yes I understand I promise. I promise.” You nodded, gasping for breath as you clamped down on his cock and came hard around him. Screaming out his name as you flooded his cock with squirt.

You couldn’t help yourself, it was all so much, so overwhelming, You were still so confused and still so terribly hungry. So you bit him. Sinking your sharp fangs into his neck as your orgasm peaked and began to slow. Starting to lap up his blood like an animal starved.

“So fucking good.” You whined, licking your lips and moaning as he kept fucking into you.

Geralt roared in ecstasy, his cock throbbing inside her as you bit into him. Blood rushed down your throat, helping to quench the insatiable thirst that had brought him to this fucking village in the first place.

"Fuck... yes." He growled, his hips pumping faster, harder. "Drink from me, you fucking whore." His words were laced with lust and self-aimed disgust; mixed together in a toxic brew.

He reached his own climax shortly after, filling you up completely with his seed, marking your spent body as his own. Breathing heavily, he leaned over you, sweaty bodies sticking together.

"You're mine now," he panted, his eyes glazed over with satisfaction.

You nodded, lips and fangs still attached to his neck, hungrily drinking down his warm blood.

“Best I’ve ever tasted.” You moaned, cunt contracting around his cock that stayed slowly, softly fucking into your cum filled cunt.

“Sweet… rich. Like- like chocolate.” He smiled at your whining, moaning mess as you lapped and sucked at the puncture wounds.

Geralt's heart raced wildly as he watched you drink from him, a perverse pleasure washed over him. He shouldn’t like this, he shouldn’t do this, he should stop you, he had duties to uphold and right now? Right now he was failing miserably. Despite know how badly this could end, how horribly this situation could escalate; he couldn’t… wouldn’t, let you stop now.

"More," he groaned, his voice strained with need. "Give me more."

You nodded, detaching from his neck and making him sit up against the head board.

You slowly sunk back down on his half hard cock. Licking away the stray drops of blood running down his chest.

“Tell me when I need to stop.” You said sternly. “don’t let me hurt you okay?”

You kissed down his throat, sinking your fangs into the opposite side of his neck and rocking your hips on his cock.

Geralt's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. "Gods above... you're- oh ohhh," he managed between panting breaths. "Keep going, don't stop."

His hand reached down to cup your ass again, squeezing firmly before roughly slapping it. "I want more of this... all night if you can handle it."

“Fuck.” You groaned, detaching from his neck.

“I’ll ride you all night if that’s what you want.” You said, devouring his lips in a bloody kiss. “but I can’t keep drinking from you much longer.”

He whined and gripped your hips in protest. A real, throaty whine; you didn’t even realize he was capable of making such a sound. If you weren’t so drunk off the power of making him so weak for you… you might’ve died right then and there.

“I can’t, I’ll hurt you.” You tried to reason with him. “you’ll have to tell me when to stop, when you start getting light-headed.”

Geralt's eyes fluttered shut as your tongues tangled, their bodies moving in sync once more. "I can handle it," he growled, his voice deep and husky with desire. "Just... keep going."

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding on tightly as you rode him, his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders possessively.

You doubled down snd rode him hard and fast, his grip would definitely cause bruises but you didn’t care. Never in all your years had you been with a man this eager to let you feed. It was intoxicating, watching him love every second, it made it all even sweeter.

You licked the thin trickles of blood from the newer bite mark before tilting his head back harshly and tightly gripping his hair in your fist. Cocking your head to the side you dragged your tongue across his throat before sinking your fangs back into his skin, right over his Adam’s apple.

This bite would make the blood drain faster, make him lightheaded quicker, it was messier but you got the feeling that he might like it that way.

You clenched down around his cock and your legs shook as he moaned loudly. The vibration of the noise could be felt through your fangs, reverberating in that tiny animalistic corner of your brain. Triggering you to cum violently on his cock, fangs digging deeper accidentally.

He groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. "Don't stop."

He arched his back, thrusting harder into your tight hole, his orgasm nearing its peak.You moaned in agreement with him, pulling his hair tighter and keeping his head tilted back. Your other hand with an iron grip on his shoulder as you rode him violently, as hard and fast as you could handle. Even then he was still thrusting up into you, his hands roaming my back and ass.

Geralt's cock twitched deep inside your tight channel, spurting hot cum to paint your inner walls white. He groaned deeply, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. His hold on you loosened slightly, allowing you to collapse onto him, breathing heavily. Your sweaty bodies were intertwined, covered in a mess of blood and cum.

After several long minutes of heavy breathing, Geralt finally managed to speak, his voice raspy from exertion. "That... was fucking amazing."

You licked and kissed away the remaining trickles of blood, circling your hips slowly on his softening cock.

“You okay? Do you need anything?” You asked in concern, blood dripping from your lips and chin as you made him look up. Gently using your thumb to pull underneath his eye so you could check to see if his iron level was too low after having drank so much from him.

Geralt's eyes fluttered open, his vision still a little blurry. "I'm fine," he panted, reaching down to stroke your hair affectionately. "Just... give me a minute."

He sat back against the headboard, catching his breath as she continued to move on him slowly. You slowly raised off his lap, stepping down from the bed and giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Stay right here, I’m gonna go get you something to drink and something sweet to eat.” You cooed in a soft voice.

“Please don’t pass out.” You added; half joking-half serious.

Geralt chuckled softly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain his composure. "I won't," he assured you, watching you walk out of the room with an expression of pure bewilderment etched on his features.

He should feel bad about this. About disrespecting his fellow Witchers and breaking the code, he was quite literally ‘laying with the enemy’ as that old saying goes. Though he didn’t.

‘Cause you were an ethical vampire, right? He’d noticed the pattern of victims, slimy criminals, horrible husbands and fathers. The world would be better off without them anyway, and it’s not like you were going nuts like a cat in a bird cage, you seemed like you had self control, he reasoned.

Not every monster is just… a monster, right?

Maybe he was just light headed. Maybe this was all a fever dream or a trip from an accidental mushroom mixup. Or maybe he was just loosing his fucking mind, but at this point he was more than willing to be certifiably insane if it meant having more of you.

TagList:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

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