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ro-is-struggling · 1 year ago

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Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3900

Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol

Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires.

He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.

The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.

Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.

The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.

She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.

"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."

"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin.

"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings.

Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.

She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.

There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.

Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful.

Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.

When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.

“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time.

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."

"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.

Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.

He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."

He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.

Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.

The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.

It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind.

He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.

"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.

"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."

Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.

She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.

The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again.

"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?

"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.

"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.

"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.

"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath.

The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"

"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please."

The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.

He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.

But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.

"Only time will tell."

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader smut #the witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 2 months ago

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Bunny- Geralt x Reader

Summary: Geralt gets his bunny to bounce on his lap for him 😉

Word count: 766

*wanna be tagged in my next Geralt fic? Click here*

“Geralt, you need to hold still so I can fix up your cuts,” you fuss over the shirtless Witcher, straddling his large lap on the edge of the double bed.

“You are the only remedy I need, little bunny,” he smirks against your neck, emphasising the nickname by grabbing a handful of your ass and jiggling it.

“Such a sweet and soft little bunny, all for me. Are you gonna bounce for me, little bunny?” He whispers hotly against your neck, as he forces you to grind down against his hardening length.

Your attempts of bandaging him up were becoming much more difficult, as his kisses against your neck grew more hungry, and he began to pull your dress up to your hips. You let out a light gasp as your bare skin is exposed to his rough strong hands.

“No undergarments on. Naughty little bunny,” he growls against your neck as he bites down on the sensitive skin.

“Ah-Ge-Geralt,” you moan out to the Witcher, gripping at his silver locks.

“You gonna be a good little bunny for me?” He asks tauntingly as he bounces you with his thighs, causing your breasts to jiggle in his face.

“I’ll bounce for you, if you let me clean up your cuts,” you persuade as you look into his gorgeous golden eyes.

“Deal,” he simply growls as he pushes you into a hungry kiss.

The kiss is messy and heated, full of teeth and tongue as he fights and claims your mouth. In the heat of the kiss, he rips your dress down the middle, needing so badly to feel your warm skin. Not evening bothering to apologise or react to your gasp, he simply throws the now ruined dress to the ground.

Breaking from the kiss, your mind is dizzy and you’re slightly out of breath, now caught in the trance of the strong Witcher below you. Geralt only moves you slightly as he pulls down his pants only just enough to free himself.

Normally Geralt likes to take his time with you, normally spending quite some time between your legs before he either takes you or watches you bounce for him. Tonight however, Geralt was both tired and desperate, this monster hunt had taken longer than usual and he needed his prize (you) now.

Rubbing his thick fingers through your folds, he smirks as he feels and sees how wet you already are. His eyes stay fixed on your wetness, as he manoeuvres you to line up with his impressive length. His eyes are trance-like as he watches you slowly sink down onto him; only once he’s fully inside you does his burning gaze reach your eyes.

Staring at your cute fluttering eyes and parted lips, he growls with a smirk as he grabs at your thighs, squishing the soft skin under his harsh hands.

“Bounce for me, bunny, let me see how cute and fucked out my little bunny can be,” he ordered from below you.

The way he treated you so sweetly, yet still ordered you around, put your mind is a sweet and tingly place. Looking into his soft yet dominating gaze, your hips begin to grind and bounce, as your hands held onto his wrists.

Neither of you wanted to look away from the other, Geralts eyes either fixed on your sweet pleasure-filled face, or on the way your tits and thighs bounced for him.

The powerful look on Geralts face drew even more pleasure from you as you grind and bounce in his lap, his cock hitting you in all the perfect places. It wasn’t until you felt yourself reaching that perfect tingly bliss, and your fingers reach up to rub against your clit, did your eyes finally close in pleasure.

“Geralt… I-I’m cl-close,” you moan out as your other hand reaches up to pinch at your sensitive nipple.

“Cum for me, my little bunny, come on, squeeze my cock,” he growled out as his grip on your thighs tightened.

His dominating voice was all you needed before you threw your head back with a pleasure-filled scream. Feeling your walls tighten around his already sensitive cock, Geralt let out a growl as he powerfully thrusts his hips against yours.

“Gonna cum so deep in your little cunt, bunny!” He shouted, as his hips slammed against yours and he filled you up.

The room was filled with his and your heavy pants as you lay on his sweaty hairy chest. His strong hands hold you against his chest, as they lightly rub up and down your warm bare skin.

“Good little bunny.”

#Geralt #Geralt x reader #Geralt imagine #Geralt of rivia #Geralt of rivia imagine #Geralt of rivia x reader #the Witcher #the Witcher imagine

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scarlet2007 · 1 year ago

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₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.

The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.

"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.

"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.

You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.

"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.

"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.

"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.

Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.

The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.

"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.

"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.

"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.

"Speak."

You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.

"What makes you think that?"

"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.

The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.

Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.

He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.

"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.

"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.

The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.

The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.

"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.

"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.

"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.

"What is it?"

You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.

"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."

The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.

"They knew that there was a beast?"

You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."

The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.

"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"

The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."

The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."

"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.

"It's outside the woods."

"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.

"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.

"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."

"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"

"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.

Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.

The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.

The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.

As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.

"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.

"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.

The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.

Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.

"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.

You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared. Oh, you were so so scared.

A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.

You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.

You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.

"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.

"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.

"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.

"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.

"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.

"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.

You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.

"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.

"I will keep her."

That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.

He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.

He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.

"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.

The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.

"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.

"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.

The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.

"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.

You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.

"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.

"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.

You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.

"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.

He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.

"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.

After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.

After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.

"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.

"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.

"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."

You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"

And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months ago

Text

Taking the House

Rhaenyra x Witcher!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

The mere sight of your old friend made your heart flutter and beat faster. Some would’ve thought it strange: a witcher left lovestruck. But Rhaenyra always had that effect. The love you get for her only grew in the years that you had been away.

She glided up to you, her eyes showing a mix of adoration and betrayal. “You’re back” she whispered under her breath.

“I am” you replied in a gruff voice.

“Your return is quite unexpected,” your father Otto Hightower exposits. “Most thought you dead.”

“And yet here I am. And there my younger sister stands: wife to an elderly man”

“You will treat your king with—“ Otto tries to say and yet Viserys surprisingly cuts him off.

“Let the man speak his mind.” The elderly king takes a deep breath. “It is true. I have taken Alicent for a bride. You are free to judge me within the walls of this room

“I carry no ill will, my king,” you stated, “simply disappointment”

Alicent walks up to you, carrying her newborn, “this is Aemond. Your nephew”

The young Targeryan infant looked up at you in amazement. The little baby cooed and smiled at you.

“He carries your soul” you put on a fake smile for your sister. So young and yet she had to bear the pain of childbirth.

“Witcher (Y/N)” King Viserys clears his throat, “the kingdom is in your debt, please stay here as long as you see fit”

“My king” you bow. And with that you turned and leave.

Rhaenyra intercepts you mere feet from the throne room. She grabs your arm and pulls you to her. She whispers in your ear, “my chambers. Nightfall.”

And with that she turns and leaves. A part of you couldn’t help but smile.

Otto ran out after you. You led him into the open courtyard, if there was anything your father hated it was causing a scene.

“I thought you dead” he said thru gritted teeth.

“And I thought you a decent man,” you retorted. “But we were both wrong”

“You could been seated on that throne now and instead I had to whore out your sister”

You drew out your dagger and pressed it to his throat. “You had to do nothing! My sister has known more pain in her short years than you will ever know.”

You took the dagger away from your father’s throat. “I made my choice,” you continued, “and you have to live with yours, father”

And with that you turn and walked away. You were not his tool. You were your own man.

Daemon found you among the dragon stables. “Wow. Quite the sight that was. You really shook the council to its core.”

“Why did you bring me here, Daemon?”

“Simple. I wish for my niece to be happy.” He gives you a wink. “You saved my life. The least I can do for you is ensure rha you have a happy one.”

“Explain”

“You didn’t want wine or women or wealth like most witchers. And I remember the way you would look at Rhaenyra. She still carries the torch for you.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder, “my advice is this - life has too many hardships, allow yourself a little joy”

And with that he turned and went on his way.

Later that evening you made your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers, dodging guards and night watchmen to ensure that no one knew.

Rhaenyra quickly pulled you into her chamber after three knocks at her door. She hugged you tight and then slugged you in your arm.

“Uhh…ouch” you smirked.

“Why did you leave?” Was her only question. “Tell me the truth”

“I have nothing but the truth left. My father wished to use me as a chess piece.” You explain. “He wanted me to marry you and take the throne from you. And I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Would it have been so wrong? To have you by my side?!” Rhaenyra stresses as she paces her chamber floor. “You were my best friend. Surely even if you did not love me, we could’ve made it work”

“I would not be some tool for my father” you retorted. “I love you too much to allow that. I had no idea he would use Alicent in such a-“

“You said you love me,” she interrupted you.

“What?”

“You said love me. In the present tense. You could have said you loved me too much to allow that.”

Rhaenyra slowly walks up to you. “Do you? Do you love me?”

Your cat like eyes could only look into her soft gentle eyes. “I never stopped loving you, Rhaenyra. I never slept with another. This sword and my heart were always pledged to you”

“Then take me” she gently ordered you. Her tone was commanding yet so loving,“Everything I am, I want it to be yours”

“I’ve only ever wanted to be yours” you replied. You take her face gently in your hands and kiss her tenderly.

A little moan escapes her lips. Her eyes become alight with lust and passion. She wraps her arms around your neck and jumps up, wrapping her legs around your waist.

You kiss her once, twice, peeling off layers of clothing as the two of you make your way to her royal bed. She pulls her hair down, letting the white trails of hair flow gracefully over her shoulders.

You lay her gently on the bed, kissing her neck, “if tonight is all we have, then so be it” she whines.

“I promise you,” you purr in her ear, “we’ll have more than just tonight, my Rhae”

You and Rhaenyra made love into the early morning hours. Time apart faded away. You held her bare form against your chest, soothing her very soul.

“I suppose what they say about witchers is quite true” she smirks. “You truly are amazing in all your splendor. That broadsword of yours…” she laughs

“I will only be yours. Til my last breath” you whispered against her hairline. You kiss her head and rub her back reassuringly.

“But you’re immortal”

“I never took that step.” You shrug. “I’ll hunt monsters, save kingdoms but I could never live an eternity without you”

“You’re not immortal…does that mean that someday you and I can have…”

“The price of immortality is becoming sterile” you answer her silent question. “Obviously that was a step too far.”

“I want two.” She answered back with a giggle. You couldn’t help but smile.

THE END

#the witcher #house of the dragon #hotd #milly alcock #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #princess x knight #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #got #game of thrones

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bimrwolf · 2 years ago

Text

Healing Hands by the Fire

geralt of rivia x afab!reader words: 3,684 warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries. a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.

How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.

She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.

In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent.

It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed.

Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content.

However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle.

In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it.

His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood.

“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face.

“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed.

His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain.

She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin.

“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away.

“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her.

Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.”

“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction.

She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.

He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier.

“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.”

His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled.

His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up.

He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?”

She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly.

She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?”

The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night.

That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends.

In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover.

“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.”

She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?”

He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.”

There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping.

“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.

She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl.

“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted.

It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.”

“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.”

“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement.

He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.”

“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?”

He didn’t answer.

She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound.

“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved.

She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.”

“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her.

She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.”

He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.”

“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant.

He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.”

The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him.

“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now.

She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.”

“I thought your potions helped with that?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled.

As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers.

“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.”

He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?”

She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.”

Her face softened.

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely.

She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His expression never faltered.

She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.”

His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills.

Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper.

They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others?

“You’re angry.”

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.”

And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up.

Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?”

Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.”

Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?”

“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked.

The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?”

“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her.

“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.

“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them.

He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time.

When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.

It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more.

Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.”

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared.

She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it. She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too.

The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch.

“Geralt,” she mewled.

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it.

She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.”

“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her.

She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”

The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly.

She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back.

At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him.

The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame.

In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot.

“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen.

“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away.

He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest.

She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?”

He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?”

A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?”

He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear.

Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher fic #blaize writes #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher imagine

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ultralightpoe · 1 year ago

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Spellbound - Geralt

Authors Note: I’m back because I quit my job and have a better schedule at the new job

Warnings: semi smut

Word Count: 4012

Description: geralt fights his feelings until you get trapped in a spell

brothel worker! reader x geralt

Enjoy!

Geralt was going to tear whoever did this to you to pieces. He would gouge their eyes out and make them eat them.

That was just one of the thoughts that rang through his mind as he cradled you in his arms, your nose bleeding onto his now naked torso, the shirt you had torn off of him a mere moment ago nearly in the fire.

This was not supposed to be how this happened, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He had made himself stay away for this exact reason, everything he loved was destroyed.

The witcher had always been against you joining the group.

You had been a brothel worker when you came upon Jaskier six months ago, walking the streets with achy legs from a long shift, smelling of the salt water you had bathed in when you saw a group of men holding him up and beating on him.

A yell had crossed your lips and without thinking you picked up a log near your feet, launching at the men and swinging anywhere you could to scare them off, hitting a couple of them harshly before they finally scampered away leaving you standing in the mud with a log and the poor fool laying bloody and beaten on the ground.

You had brought him to your tiny rooms at the brothel, helped him clean up and soon enough he was asking you to join them. You hesitated for a moment, watching him use one of your rags to dot at the cuts along his face before shrugging.

Anything is better than the life of a brothel worker, right?

Wrong.

Brothels didn’t have the annoying attitude of Geralt the fucking Witcher. Okay well some did since Jaskier admitted to Geralt being a frequent guest of them, but you had never seen him and you wished you never met him either.

He spent every waking moment snapping at you, or blatantly ignoring you when you were trying to ask questions. It was either you didn’t exist or everything you did was wrong, and you could never figure out why the way he treated you bothered you so fucking much.

Men had done far worse to you in that brothel, but Geralt giving you the cold shoulder nearly brought you to tears? What?

Then again none of the men that came to the brothel were like Geralt at all. None of them had those melting golden eyes or the firm touch of a protector, none of them could turn a sword in their hands the way he does or make anyone feel at ease in his presence.

Well……anyone but you.

Maybe he knew you had feelings for him, maybe he hated your guts. Many reasons why he never wanted to talk to you filled your head and none of them were good.

You spent your days obsessing over a man that barely glanced back at you, your horse in the back of the group with Jaskier always a force between you both.

Geralt takes a moment to tie the corset of your dress so you weren’t exposed before pulling you into his arms and laying you on his bed, moving to grab a cloth from the basin in the corner of the inn room.

When he returns to your side he takes a chance to slide the hair from your face, swiping the damp cloth along the blood trail your nose left in soft strokes as he watches you sleep. He would make sure you were breathing and comfortable before he went out and broke some limbs.

It had been six months of that behavior, and it was truly beginning to wear you down.

The days were spent either passive aggressively ignoring him back for scoffing at any mistake of yours he pointed out. Today was a passive aggressive silent game.

He had woken you up by snapping in your face and the months of travel and anger were beginning to catch up so you had slapped his hand out of your face, watching a small amount of shock fill his face before his eyes narrowed in anger.

“You overslept….again.” In the beginning you would have a snarky retort, something mocking his breath or face, but now you merely rolled your eyes and turned your back to him as you packed up your bedroll. He doesn’t seem to understand your silent game since he tries to piss you off once more. “We are going to be behind if you keep sleeping like this.”

It would be so easy to turn around and tell him to shove off, but then he would know he had that effect so you simply picked you belongings up, fixed your boots and walked to the horses where Jaskier sat atop his own.

The bard gives you a knowing look as you mount your own horse after fixing everything onto it, legs swinging with a natural ease and a slight warmth on your thigh. When you look down you see Geralt's hand placed on it, and you realize he had helped you up. “Are you angry with me? Or have you lost your voice?”

“Just matching the treatment given to me.” You snark, a feeling of pride in your chest when you see him all but snarl. You kick the horse into gear after that, this time taking the lead as his hand slips from your thigh and he rushes to Roach.

By the time he catches up he makes Roach walk alongside your horse, his face furious. “The treatment I gave you?”

You hum out, moving to speed up your horse but Geralt is too quick, within moments he has the reins of your horse in his hand, pulling on them until you are close enough for your thighs to touch.

“Answer me.”

You hum again, your heartbeat rising and you wonder if he can hear it when his eyes cast down to your chest before looking back at you.

“Humming is not an answer.”

You hum once more, moving to snatch the reins but his hand reaches out to grab your jaw. “I need to hear your voice.”

You slap his hand away once more and snatch the reins, giving him a glare before moving forward.

“I don’t understand.” He grunted to Jaskier later that day, fixing his travel pack on roach as the bard leans against the same post the horses were tied to. You had gone to the market to grab some necessities and when Geralt demanded to go with you he had been met with another empty hum and Jaskier had told him to back down.

“She’ll avoid attention if she isn’t traveling with a witcher, not to mention she knows how to bargain for cheaper prices when she isn’t flanked by your glare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He growls, watching the bard smirk.

“The market workers like the attention she can give them-”

“We agreed she didn’t have to do any of that stuff if she traveled with us.”

“She does this willingly, and even so it’s not the same as in the brothel. She doesn’t have to offer up her-” A heavy growl slips from Geralt and Jaskier chooses not to finish his sentence, instead rolling his eyes and moving to his own horse. “I think you would be better off if you just told her you love her.”

“I do not-”

“Oh hush. I see you watch her sleep every morn, then I see you yell at her for waking up late because you forgot to wake her up.” He laughs. “And I see you hover whenever she mounts and dismounts Lugo. Not to mention the way you give her the bigger rations of whatever we eat and-”

“Fuck off.”

Jaskier takes the win and turns away from the witcher, fiddling with the lute while Geralt tries to make himself look busy.

After a moment of silence the witcher stands quickly. “Why won’t she speak to me?”

A laugh escapes the bard once more. “Because you ignore her any chance you get?”

“I do not.”

“Well I know that. But she doesn’t, because you never even bother talking to her. You’d rather silently pine like a lost-” He trails off when he sees you emerge from the hills, sacks of produce in your arms with a small smile on your face. “Fresh hells.”

“The men were ready to lose their money today boys!”

“Did they bother you?” Geralt growls and you give him a glare back before shoving the sack of apples into his chest.

Once he is sure you are breathing properly he covers you with the blanket, before moving to grab his sword, careful not to wake you up.

You spend the rest of the day simply ignoring them both, too busy being proud of the way you scammed the merchants and all you had to do was lift your skirt to your knee.

Geralt kept Roach near your own horse, and Jaskier took the back for once, all of you traveling in silence until Jaskier begins to whine.

“It has been forever since we slept indoors.”

Silence follows for a moment before Geralt turns to glare at him. “And Y/n just saved us so much coin we can each get a room in the next town.”

“This is true! I did!” You laugh, turning to look at Jaskiers mopey face.

“Fuck.” Geralt grunts, turning back to the road so he doesn’t have to look at either of you again.

Jaskier is still sitting in the hall with his lute, strumming softly in the drunken daze as the crowd they had gathered earlier has finally died down.

“Bard.” Geralt grunts, trying to get his attention. But Jaskier doesn’t move, simply keeps his eyes closed as he plays a chord. So Geralt kicks his chin.

The bard before him jumps up with a shout before his eyes land on the white haired witcher before him.

“I got us all rooms and I found you in a hallway.”

“I was merely resting for a moment.” He sighs, reaching down to grab the ale mug filled with coins he earned from his performance. “It’s hard to be a -”

The silver amulet is shoved in his face before he can finish the sentence, eyes widening as Geralt grunts. “Who gave this to Y/n?”

“The charming blonde who had been dancing with her all night while you sat in the back and glared.”

“Where did he disappear to?”

“You mean after you snatched her?”

By the time the three of you made it to the next town your ass was worn from the saddle and you were a bit wobbly when you got down, Geralt standing behind you and you scoffed as you looked at him. “Waiting for me to fall so you can lecture me?”

He opens his mouth to respond and you find yourself excited that he is actually about to answer back before he huffs and glares before disappearing. And once more you are left feeling like nothing.

You watch as he disappears into the tavern before turning to Jaskier. “I asked around at the market…”

“About?”

“About work.”

“Ah!” He smiles, moving to lean on you. “And what did you find for our dear witcher to do?”

“Not for him actually.” Your throat tightens as you struggle to find the words. Jaskier doesn’t seem to catch on to your solemn mood.

“Oh? A performance for me? I’m sure I can prepare a lullaby or two-”

“For me.” You interrupt, pulling yourself away from him and crossing your arms uncomfortably as he stares at you.

“For…..you?” You nod at his question, trying to gain some power here. “What do you-”

“Madame Horchels brothel is in this town, she is famous within word and if I met with her then I am sure I would be set up with a room and a hot meal a day-”

“Why in fucks sake would you ever want to go back to that?”

Tears were welling in your eyes as he stared at you and you struggled to find words. “I am just……tired of feeling useless and pathetic……”

“So you would go back to whoring?”

“You don’t have to act so disgusted!” You snap, shame filling you at his reaction. “I never saw you complaining about my past when I was flirting with guards or-”

“I am sorry, I never meant to judge. I just think…..” He sighs out and rubs his face aggressively before moving to pull you into a hug. “It’s been a cold couple days. How about we go in and get a drink, a good night's rest in actual beds before we make decisions? Yeah?”

A hooded figure passes you both to get into the tavern and you simply shrug. “I think my mind is made up Jask.”

“I think it would be a mistake and we would miss you terribly……..okay I would miss you terribly.”

“Why would you miss her?” Geralt snaps out from a couple steps away, eyes squinted in an angry manner. He had originally come to snap at you both to watch your surroundings but had caught the tail end of the conversation instead.

“Y/n here was just rushing a decision. But we aren’t gonna talk about that, right now a round of ale on me.”

“You spent all your coin two towns ago on new strings for your lute.” Geralt reminds, eyes never leaving your figure.

“Then I shall make more coin!” He cheers, pulling you into the tavern and snatching the room keys from Geralt.

Things escalated from there, and any time Geralt asked about their conversation they changed the subject and he was beginning to lose his mind. Were you okay? Why would Jaskier miss you? Why was he so worried about this? He watched you drink all night, ignoring him, and he watched as many of the men in the tavern asked you for a dance. He knew none of the men were a threat, and you knew how to handle them, even if it got out of control he could have his sword to their throat with a mere minute. So he didn’t really pay attention to your dance partners.

But one in particular caught his attention, the hooded figure that had walked too close to you both earlier had emerged from his corner and asked for a dance, and something in Geralt screamed for him to go and get you away. But he didn’t, instead he sat back and drank, allowing you room to have fun.

The blonde stranger whirled you around and spun you and bought you drink after drink. Your eyes glazed over and your smile was wide enough to split your face, a jealous feeling crept into Geralts chest and the urge to punch the stranger grew and grew as Jaskier played song after song.

“Can I get you another drink?”

“Hmm?” Geralts attention snaps from your figure to the tavern wench beside him, giving him a small smile.

“Another ale?”

“I think I am fine. Thank you-” She doesn’t wait, walking away since she didn’t get more coin and when Geralt sneaks his attention back to you he can’t help but slam his empty mug down.

The stranger had you turn around with you lifting your hair as he placed an amulet on your neck, kissing your shoulder and before Geralt could stop himself he lunged to grab you.

One moment you are giggling about the gorgeous, the next you are thrown over Geralts shoulder as he shoves the gorgeous fae away from you, hauling you up the stairs of the inn with no care.

“Put me down!” You shout, slamming your hand into his back as he walks through the first hall then up the next flight of stairs.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

“And you care why?”

“Because that man would take advantage.’ He growls.

“Well he gave me a necklace, that’s how the business works.” You giggle, reaching up to touch the necklace but the world whirls once more as Geralt places your feet on the ground and pushes you into the wall. His hand stopped your head from hitting the wood but the rest of you was pressed between him and the wall.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You ask breathlessly, watching his face with adoration. Had he always been so…..

“Joke about that. You need something then I will get it for you.”

“What if I want the prettiest jewels in the kingdom?”

“Then I kill more beasts.” He was dead serious and the hazy feeling was taking over so before you know it you find yourself leaning in to whisper “What is I want an orgasm?”

A red tint crosses his neck but his face remains serious as he leans his head against yours to whisper. “Then you ask me.”

And for a moment you can’t breathe, you find yourself aching, every part of you wanting to touch him suddenly. But before you can he whispers once more. “But not tonight. My first time with you will be sober.”

Then the wood behind you disappears and you realize he had pressed you against the door to your room. Landing in a ball on the floor he sends a small smile before slamming the door and the heat that had filled you dims for a moment.

But just for a moment.

You pull yourself up from the floor, moving to the bed before the aching returns and your body heats up twice as bad. Everything begins going hazy as a sweat covers you and then you lose it.

“I need to go.” Geralt snaps, shoving Jaksier to the direction of the stairs. “You go watch her. Don’t let her make any more mistakes.”

“Where are you- Geralt? What happened?! Hello?!” Jaskier calls after the witcher, watching him storm through the tavern before slamming the doors on his way out. With a deep sigh the bard grabs his jacket and mug of coins before making his way to find the rooms.

It had been an hour since he left you in your room and Geralt could not relax himself. Jaskier had just stopped singing and Geralt was still pacing the inn room, back and forth back and forth.

The aching hard on he had refused to go away, the image of your dazed eyes all he could think about, and the way you whispered to him had him so close to snapping all together. But he didn’t, and you were safe in your room with him just two doors down. But the floorboards creaking by his door caught his attention, and he reached for the sword as the doorknob jiggled.

Stepping towards it slowly as it creaks open only to reveal you, standing in the hall in nothing but your dress slip and a flushed face. “Geralt-” You moan out and his knees nearly buckle when you rush in and slam the door.

The sword falls from his hands so he can catch you when you come hurdling to him, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. Your lips melt into his and you moan in victory when he kisses back, pressing yourself against him as your hands fly into his hair.

His own hands find purchase on you hips, and before he can tell himself not to he moves them to start a grinding motion the both of your would like. It stays like this for a moment until you bite his lip on a particularly aggressive moan, pulling back to catch a breath as you press your hips into his harder than before.

For a second he admires you, the way your face scrunches up in pleasure and the moans that he is pulling from your lips, letting out a heavy ‘FUCK’ when you circle your hips.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” You gasp out, hands dragging from his hair to his chest before you start tearing the clasps on his shirt, scratching it a bit in your struggle to get it off. “Ineedyou, it hurtssobad-”

This makes him hesitate, pulling back a little just as you fling his shirt, your hands flying to undo the slip and he finally catches your eyes. Only they weren’t the eyes he had fallen in love with, instead they were a deep red.

“Y/n?” He asks, heartbeat racing as he snatches your wrists in one hand, the other coming to grab you chin. “Look at me.”

“Geralt, please. It hurts.” You whine and the gem in the amulet glows the same red as your eyes.

Dread fills him as he reaches down to tear it off you, the silver cutting you a bit before he chucks it across the room.

He couldn’t breathe properly as he watched you come down from the spell, anger filling him. You hadn’t meant any of this, this had been a spell.

He was a fucking fool.

“Geralt?” You breathe out, taking in the room before looking at his shirtless torso and the small scratches you had made to get the shirt off. “What-”

And just like that you were gone. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nose started bleeding as you passed out, he barely caught you before you hit the floor. “Fuck.”

You awake mid day- the sun blaring in through the blinds and you do your best to cover your eyes. “Oh make it stop-”

“There are no covers for the window.” Jaskier sighs from where he is laying on the floor. “I tried stealing the blanket from you and you hissed at me.”

“Serves you right….” You mumble, taking in the room as you realize that last night hadn’t been a dream after all and a deep embarrassment fills you.

“H-have…..have you seen Geralt?” You ask, leaning over the bed to look at him.

“He left around sunrise in a pissy mood.”

“Did he… did he say anything?” You felt like an utter fool, and you were doing your best not to be sick.

“Said to watch you so you didn’t make any more mistakes.” Jaskier shrugs before yawning.

“He said that? He said mistake?” Your voice cracks as you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself.

“He did. I assumed he caught you with the blonde gu- Y/n? What’s the matter?”

“I…… I have to go.” You rush out, jumping over him to leave the room.

- - - - -

Geralt finds Jaskier waiting at the horses when he rides up, tired and cranky, and he gets even crankier when he sees that your horse is empty of all your travel bags.

“Is she not awake? Do we need to get a healer?” He rushes out, launching from roach to get to the tavern only for Jaskier to hold the lute in front of him.

“She woke up several hours ago, it’s nearly dusk.”

“Then where is she?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?” His heart is racing too fast and he’s hoping that Jaskier starts laughing soon and this is all a joke.

“I told her you said to make sure she didn’t make any more mistakes and she got really sad and started crying as she packed up.” He explains. “She went to this brothel and they wouldn’t let me in but they let her in and she came out to say bye soon after that.”

“She went to a brothel?!” He snaps, grabbing the collar of Jaskiers dress coat.

“Don’t blame me! This is your doing!”

“How. So.”

“You were the one that made her feel worthless! Never looking at her and always in her business about her mistakes-”

“Her mistakes get her hurt, or worse, killed!”

“Then tell her that! Rather than yell at her all the time with no explanation-”

“Where is the brothel?”

“It’s no use.”

“Where. Is. The. Brot-”

“She made a deal! The madame owns her!”

“Not on my fucking watch.” Geralt snaps, mounting the roach in one fluent move before nodding to Jaskier. “Hurry.”

He had to get you.

Part Two

#geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt imagine #geralt angst #witcher #witcher smut #geralt of rivia #witcher angst #witcher imagine #witcher fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher angst #the witcher smut #the witcher c reader #witcher geralt #henry cavill #Geralt Geralt Geralt #witcher season 3 #rory the frenchie

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goest-and-fuckest-thyself · 3 months ago

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Tired of “bunny” readers. I want FOX readers that are clever and aren’t able to be MANIPULATED!!! Give me “I knew he was playing a game, but he didn’t know he fell right into my trap!” Readers dangit! Give the smart neurospicy girls fics without infantilising them!

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wyvernest · 11 months ago

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how do yall feel about this⁉️ (im nervous)

EDIT: POSTED‼️

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maggotzombie · 1 year ago

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the day/night we met ; henry cavill

PAIRING — Henry Cavill x Reader (fem) SUMMARY — On your wedding day, your Maid of Honor prepares a special gift to which you and Henry have distinct responses. WORDS — 1,8k TW — nothing really just a lot of fluff, emotions (I cried a bit writing it), Henry in a suit 😈. A/N — Hi! I'm not dead, just quit the most toxic job ever so I'm getting back here lol Here's a short but very dear fic to me that I wrote last year but never posted. I'm so happy to finally post this! This story has been in my head for two years now and it came out better than I thought.

Song insp.: Eu Me Lembro by Clarice Falcão feat. Silva

— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“ALRIGHT,” YOUR MAID OF HONOR smiles, carefully wiping her tears with a napkin. “After making you cry and potentially ruining some makeup,” The room laughs. “I’ve prepared something different to end this on a high note.”

This is one of the dearest moments of your life: your wedding. You’re marrying your soulmate. Your heart could burst with love and happiness whenever.

Everything’s perfect, from your dress to the lights of the venue. Henry – your newly proclaimed spouse – has an arm around you as you listen to your family and friends' speeches about you and your love.

You found it strange when your Maid of Honor wasn’t the first to speak, but it seems she has a reason for it. Immediately, you feel anxious, but in a good way.

“When these two told me they were getting married, I knew I wanted to do something special for them,” Your best friend starts. “I just didn’t know what, but I knew it had to be something remarkable, something for them to look back and have a good laugh,” She looks at the both of you with tears in her eyes, chuckling.

You also wipe tears off your eyes, smiling back at her, and Henry tightens his embrace around you.

“So I sat down with these two, separately, and started to ask a few questions,” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, which is an expression you know very well.

‘Oh my,’ You think. ‘What is she up to?’

“Things started to get really interesting from the start, and I decided to make a video out of it,” Your best friend winks at you. “Without further ado, enjoy it.”

With a pleasant smile, she sits down. The attention turns to the screens set around the venue.

You remember sitting with your Maid of Honor to chat about your relationship. You didn’t really understand why she wanted to do that. However, it always has been effortless talking about Henry, and you brushed it off as having something to do with the wedding.

You recall having a great time answering her questions – drinks might have been involved beforehand, but the whole process was surprisingly professional.

Your friend’s face pops up on the screen as she introduces herself. “In this little video, I wanted to talk about our lovely couple’s amazing and fun story, especially the day they met,” She explains. “Newlyweds, I love you very much, and I hope you like this little something I put together for you.”

She blows a kiss and waves. Then in fancy lettering, “A love story” is scribbled on the top-left corner of the screen, and “A story of love” on the bottom right corner. You wonder why both phrases – which convey the same thing – are on the video, but the thought quickly slips your mind when your smiling face appears on the screen.

“State your name and occupation, please,” Your friend prompts on the video, but she’s out of the shot.

You roll your eyes amusedly. “What’s this, a trial? I’m innocent, your honor!” You giggle, making everybody at the venue laugh.

You answer the question anyway, and your name also appears written on the video.

“For the purpose of… this, I’m the bride?” It sounds like a question, and you make a face, unsure of yourself.

She never explained what the video was for, in your defense.

Right after you, Henry appears. “I’m Henry, and I am the lucky groom,” He smiles brightly, looking as handsome as always.

“So, tell me, how did you meet Henry?” Your friend asks, and your smile is instant as you remember that exact day as if it was yesterday. “How did you meet Y/N?” She asks him in the next scene, and his reaction is the same.

“I was hosting a brunch,” You start, your eyes unfocused as the vivid memory plays in your mind. “And it was morning when Henry arrived.”

When he reapers, you can tell it’ll cut back and forth between you. “I was throwing a party, and she was the one that came around. I think it was three in the afternoon,” Henry replies, quite differently from you.

You scoff mockingly, looking at him by your side. He chuckles, brushing it off with a shoulder tic before you turn back to the screen.

“And I said: ‘Hi, come on in, make yourself at home,’ You know, something of the sorts,” You shrug off.

Your betrothed chuckles in the video, scratching his chin in thought. “I was the one that said hello, but she didn’t hear.”

His comment makes the venue erupt in laughter. You meet Henry’s loving gaze again and squeeze his hand, making him bring yours up to press a kiss on your knuckles.

If your shared story had different and entertaining versions until now, it’d just get better!

After being asked about first impressions of one another, he replies: “She thought I was hilarious,” He says with such confidence that is endearing.

In your turn, you laugh and cover your mouth as if what you are about to say it’s an embarrassing secret.

“Oh my god, he wouldn’t stop talking! Like a lot!” You emphasize. “And I pretended to laugh the entire time,” You say very sheepishly before throwing your head back in laughter again. “That’s terrible. I feel like I need to apologize,” You add after your fit.

“Oh, I just remembered something,” He suddenly announces, and his smile is wide as the memory toy around in his head. “Her blouse was inside out,” He chuckles, eyes focused on a spot. “She’s so adorable and such a goof, isn’t she?” He looks back at the camera.

“He loved the way I was dressed,” You giggle, visibly shivering as you physically remember the feeling of him truly looking at you for the first time.

Your friend asks another question, changing the subject slightly, but Henry shakes his head.

“Yeah, the party was great! Everybody was having a good time, but I only remember searching for her when she wasn’t near me. Trying to get another look, you know?” He says.

In turn, you scoff. “No one was dancing! I don’t remember who was taking care of the music, but it was terrible!” Your genuine response makes the room fills with laughter another time. “At least everyone had a drink in hand and ate something.”

“Oh, yes. The food was wonderful. Everything homemade,” Your partner assures with a proud nod naively.

“I bought everything off Tesco,” You rushedly confess, throwing your head back in laughter again.

Back to the present moment, you’re wiping the new tears from the corners of your eyes due to laughter. You love the good energy around the room as your guests and yourself enjoy the video your Maid of Honor made.

Now you understand both phases in the beginning, and although you and Henry have very distinct versions of the day you met, you love both of them and the feelings they bring you.

However, something changes in the next second of the video. For the first time, on a split-screen, you two appear together.

“When I saw him, I knew it (When I saw her, I knew it),” You both say simultaneously. “She (He) was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with,” You continue.

Glancing at him, you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you. Then you exchange a knowing look. It seems like you got on the same page in this part of the video.

“And that’s how I realized that life put him (her) in my life,” You say in unison. “On that Tuesday (Thursday) of September (December),” Your responses overlap with each other, drawing amused reactions from people.

“That’s why I remember everything, of every second,” Both of you state, which is downright ironic at this point. “Ask me anything that I remember.”

“I remember,” You proudly declare with a grin but, this time, by yourself.

And so does Henry. “I remember,” He nods with a beam.

The video ends there, and the room erupts in applause, whistles, and hollered praises.

Words couldn’t describe the dazzling feelings you’re experiencing if you wanted to. You can’t be more grateful to your friend for this treat either. And, of course, the man you now get to call your husband.

The spotlight of attention returns to you as you’re exchanging the most enamored gaze ever. Henry leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, making you close your eyes. Slowly, you allow all those remarkable sensations to wash over you.

When you reopen your eyes, you smile at him before looking at your Maid of Honor. “Thank you so much for this extremely thoughtful gift. We both loved it a lot.”

Henry confirms with a head gesture.

“Words won’t do justice to how much you’re special to me. I’m just so grateful I get to share such a special and meaningful moment of my life, like this one, with you,” Your voice cracks at the end, and you smile, trying to hold your tears at bay as you can see she’s doing the same. “So I can’t thank you enough.”

As the room gets loud with another round of applause and cheers, she smiles, mouthing an “I love you too” to you. Wiping your tears carefully one more time, you chuckle.

“Although, I only have one question,” You announce, making the room pipe down. “Was my blouse really inside out?” You giggle as you look back at Henry.

Your husband starts to laugh. “Yeah,” He confirms bashfully. “Yeah, it was,” He nods as your guests join you in laughter.

“Oh, God. I can’t believe it,” You shake your head in embarrassment. “I also would like to point out that my husband clearly has a lot of experience with interviews,” You remark, addressing the room. “I feel kinda bad after saying I was pretending to laugh at his jokes when he’s all loving and caring,” You rejoin your friends and family in fun.

“I do tell bad jokes,” Henry concedes in your defense. “I love how genuine you are, and you’re loving and caring to me, too,” You nearly melt at his famous Hollywood-star smile.

The sound of ‘aww’s’ fills the room. “You see what I’m dealing with?” You joke, making everybody chuckle.

You give him a chaste but affectionate peck on the lips. Your wedding coordinator decides it’s time for the first dance to open the floor to make your guests burn some energy after the buffet.

And so, feeling the most secure and happy while pressed against your husband’s chest with his arms around you, you swing slowly. By sharing the same air, the same space, and the same feelings, you can’t think of anything better.

It all started on a Tuesday morning in September for you. But for him, it was a Thursday afternoon in December. Now, it is a Saturday evening in November that you’ll never forget.

You will remember. Everything. Of every second.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill headcanon #the witcher #geralt of rivia #august walker #clark kent #superman #sherlock holmes

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gemstone-roses · 1 year ago

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I've got you

Geralt x Reader

Summary: geralt comforts you in the middle of the night.

Warnings: general anxiety themes, anxiety attack, fear, bit of sad, crying. Fluff. Bit of Size kink if you squint (whoops) can't help myself can I.

Huge hurt/comfort vibes, I need it okay.

Note: I'm having a bad week okay,🫠 reblogs and comments much appreciated ❤️ reminder this blog is 18 plus and so are all my works, including the sfw ones.

Hope this helps someone if they need it 🖤

Flames dance in front of you. The heat from the fire the three of you had made at your camp that night had stopped feeling warm a while ago.

Jaskier slept soundly in his sleeping bag by a tree, the dense forest you found yourselves in provided more than enough safety for you to rest for the night.

And of course, geralt too.

He sits opposite you, legs spread wide, hands falling in-between them. He's keeping watch for any danger.

You wrap your arms around yourself. Habit, when you feel like this.

You'd felt it coming when you woke this morning. It starts in your throat, your chest.

Jaskier struggled to get on his horse this morning.

Usually you'd make a sarcastic comment at his expense, earning an eye roll from him and a small chuckle from geralt.

Today you stayed quiet. You knew irritation would lace your words without actually meaning it.

Leaves rustle beside you as the witcher moves from his spot and sits back down on the log you were sitting on.

Geralts thighs touched yours, he was so big it couldn't be helped.

The slight touch comforted you though.

"I can hear your heart racing over the noise of the fire"

Of course he could.

"oh, sorry?" You say softly.

You feel your chest tighten, you try to swallow but your mouth is dry.

Geralts brows furrow, he's heard your sharp intake of breath, your heart picking up.

"fuck" he whispers, getting up.

You startle slightly when you feel two hands on your thigh, geralt kneeling in front of you. His Amber eyes laced with concern for you.

"Y/n" he says gently, giving your thigh a squeeze.

"Look at me sweetheart" he continues. He gently grasps your chin and turns it towards him.

Tears pool in your eyes as his gaze feels like it's seeing right through you.

"You need to breathe, okay?breathe with me y/n" he reaches for your hand, places it on his chest.

Your hand trembles, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on him. One of his hands holding yours on his chest, the other is still holding your face.

"Keep looking at me, good, it's okay, that's it , your safe, ive got you". He soothes, caressing your cheek as he speaks.

The tears pooled in your eyes spill free

"Geralt" you choke out

"I know" he swipes your tears away, his calloused hands still gentle.

"Just keep breathing with me, hm?" He keeps stroking your face, until he feels your racing heart calm slightly.

You stay like that for what feels like hours. His touch not leaving you. Your still trembling slightly.

"Im s-

"Don't" he pushes up from the floor , wrapping his arms around you and leaning down to place a kiss to your head.

"Come" he says offering his hand

You take it, standing up

"Let me hold you tonight, hm?" He brings your hand up to his lips and places a feather light kiss to it.

You nod, and geralt wraps his huge arm around you as he guides you to his sleep bag.

"I've got you" he whispers, pulling you tighter into his embrace.

#geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #henry cavill x reader #geralt of river x reader #the witcher fandom #the witcher imagine #henry cavill imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

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ro-is-struggling · 11 months ago

Text

The Chase || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon: "reader constantly calling geralt the white wolf or just wolf during sexy time and him breeding his pups in her bcs of it???"

Summary: Geralt always tried to keep the wolf inside him caged in order to control his animalistic impulses, but with you that didn't seem to be required at all.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI! Porn without plot, public sex (technically since they’re in the woods), rough sex, penetrative sex, fear play? (not really, but Geralt does chase the reader through the woods so maybe? adding it just in case!), scent play, size kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, biting (like there’s so much it’s a warning in this fic), fingering, possessiveness, a little fluff at the end, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 3300

Notes: This is definitely NOT inspired on THAT scene from beauty and the beast that has been going around twitter all week, nope, not at all

Geralt was used to being called 'wolf' or 'white wolf'. It was a nickname he'd had for most of his life and was constantly used by Vesemir and the other witchers. He never thought much about it, just like his own name, he had it so internalized that he automatically responded when someone called him by those nicknames.

That changed, however, when you came into his life. There was something in the way you pronounced those words that awakened a primal feeling in him. It was in the way you looked at him, eyes defiant and playful, waiting to spark a reaction from him. It was in the way your lips moved, always ending in a mischievous smile, and in the sound of your voice, sweet and seductive, inducing him to madness, pushing him to his limit.

Everything about you awakened in him an urge to possess you, to mark you as his so that everyone who saw you would know you belonged to him. He had to make an effort to stop his needy hands to caress your skin, and contain the desperation of his lips to kiss your neck and mark it with his teeth. He didn't care if there were people around him, they all ceased to exist when you called him wolf.

It didn't help his situation that you always played dumb, pretending not to understand the power you had over him. But Geralt knew it was all an act. He knew that you were well aware of the effect that the utterance of that nickname had on him. And you used it as a weapon, a way to get a response from him when you wanted to play. And today you were in a very playful mood.

"What is it? Is the wolf scared of losing?" you teased him, trying to persuade him to take the bet. It was a simple race through the woods, just get from point A to point B as fast as possible to win. Only you had no intention of winning. All you were looking for was the thrill of the chase.

Geralt gave you an unamused look, taking a deep breath to calm the revolt that your use of that nickname had awakened in him. But then, he sensed your perfume in the air, mixed with the intoxicating scent of your arousal. His look completely transformed, frown relaxing into a firm, intimidating expression. The game was on.

"Oh you don't want to play that game, bunny." He warned you, giving you one last chance to change your mind. Once the race started, he wasn't sure he would be able to stop. He could already feel his insides vibrating with anticipation, the chained wolf fighting to break free. He had been locked up for too long, his needs ignored and repressed, so when he let go there would be no turning back. He was hungry and you were offering yourself to him without hesitation. How could he refuse?

You approached him, taking the sword he was sharpening out of his hand and bending down so you could look him in the eye. Your movements were slow, sensual, captivating your lover's gaze. Geralt's eyes got lost in your cleavage for a moment, admiring the exposed skin of your neck and the valley of your breasts as he suddenly began to salivate with need. His pupils widened, staring at you with yellow eyes turned almost completely black with desire. He could barely contain himself and that only increased your arousal.

"I'm not afraid of you." you said, and Geralt held back the urge to tell you that you should be. "Are you, wolf?"

He stood up and suddenly his imposing figure towered over yours, forcing you to tilt your head up so you could look at him. He was so much bigger than you, so much more agile, that it was ridiculous to even imagine you could beat him in a race. But, again, that's not what the game was about.

Geralt leaned in towards you, his lips brushing your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. "When you lose and you're on the ground begging for mercy, I just want you to remember that you asked for this." he whispered, defiantly, sending a shiver down your spine.

He looked at you and you knew it was time to run. He gave you a head start, knowing he could catch you without even trying —not only because he was faster than you, but also because you had no real intention of winning that bet. He watched you run through the trees, admiring the way your hair moved in the wind. Only when you disappeared over the horizon did he start to move. He walked at a slow pace at first, sharpening his hearing to follow the sound of your footsteps. But when he caught the scent of your arousal, he couldn't help but pick up his pace. It was like a drug to him, an intoxicating scent that messed with the hormones of the big, bad wolf he had set free.

Geralt let the scent of your floral perfume mixed with the sweet nectar hidden between your legs guide him towards you, an invisible force drawing him closer and closer to his prey. When he reached you, he found you hiding behind a tree, taking advantage of the moment to catch your breath. He heard you gasp as soon as you sensed his presence, holding your breath to avoid making your position known. Geralt smiled to himself, finding your small efforts to remain hidden adorable.

"You can't hide from me, bunny." He spoke, approaching you slowly. "I can hear the sound of your quickened breathing from miles away... smell the scent of your arousal... you want this, so why don't you come out and get this over with."

Geralt was offering you a truce, a chance for things not to escalate any further than they already had. Any sane person in your place would have taken it, it was the reasonable thing to do after taunting the wolf like that. But you were not just anyone. You wanted to face the consequences of your actions. You wanted to face the white wolf that Geralt tried so hard to keep in line. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted with you, that was the point of the game in the first place.

You came out of hiding with your hands up in a feigned sign of surrender. Geralt walked a few steps towards you, eyeing you with suspicion. You held his gaze, trying to hide your true intentions. But in the end the smile on your lips betrayed you, letting him know that you didn't plan to give up easily before you had a chance to run.

You barely made it a couple of steps before you felt the warmth of his body against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you to keep you from escaping. You squirmed in his grip, trying to free your arms from his strong hold, but it was pointless. Geralt was much bigger and stronger than you, so you weren't going anywhere if he didn't want you to. He pressed you against him, pinning your back to his chest as his hands intertwined over your stomach, effectively imprisoning you against his body. You felt his nose against your neck, sniffing your scent with animalistic desperation. It made you tremble, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your heart pounded with anticipation. You pressed the curve of your ass against the bulge growing in his pants in response and you felt Geralt’s chest vibrate with a repressed moan.

"I got you." he growled against your skin before sinking his teeth into the sensitive area of your neck. "You're mine, bunny. Mine."

"I'm yours," you moaned, relaxing into his arms, tilting your head more so he could have better access to your neck. You wanted him to mark you. You wanted him to claim you as his own. "Please, take me." you begged. It was an airy whisper, but Geralt heard it with perfect clarity. And your consent was all he needed.

In a matter of seconds, your back was pressed against the grass as Geralt hovered over you. His hands were all over your body, lifting your skirt and unbuttoning the ties of your top to expose your breasts. His lips kissed every inch of exposed skin, but there was nothing romantic or sensual about it. It was rough, desperate, Geralt sucked your skin with the intention of leaving marks, sinking his teeth into your flesh as he growled that you belonged to him. It was too much and yet not enough. The pleasure coursing through your body was almost unbearable, but you needed more, you needed to feel all of him.

"You knew exactly what you were doing... calling me that name, making me chase you around." Geralt inserted a finger inside you without warning, earning a moan from you. You were so aroused, so desperate for his touch, that he had no trouble at all pushing deep into your core, moving his digit with ease and reaching up to brush against that sensitive part inside you that turned you into a moaning mess. "This is what you wanted, didn't you bunny? You wanted your big, bad wolf to chase you around and pin you down right in the middle of the woods, huh?"

"Y-yes, f-fuck." you managed to blurt out between moans and quickened breaths. Geralt inserted a second finger inside you and the air got stuck in your throat as the pleasure overwhelmed you. He increased the pace of his movements, showing you no mercy as his fingers moved in and out of you in desperate, almost aggressive movements. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, ready to snap at any moment.

"You awakened the wolf on purpose. This is exactly what you wanted, didn't you?" he growled in your ear, playfully biting your ear lobe. You could only reply with an incoherent moan, closing your eyes to focus on the pleasure coursing through your body. But that wasn't enough for him, Geralt wanted to hear you say it. "Answer me!" he demanded and you were forced to open your eyes just by the authority in his voice.

"Yes! I-I wanted this, I-I wanted the wolf to fuck me. Please..." Geralt smiled showing his teeth and you couldn't help but think how much he resembled a real wolf when he looked at you like that. His lips were slightly swollen and covered with saliva after working on marking your skin, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He was looking at you like a wolf looked at its prey, desperate to jump at you and devour his meal.

"Beg for it." He said through gritted teeth. He removed his fingers from inside you, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. It took your pleasure-clouded mind a few seconds to process his words, too focused on the high you'd lost to let out anything more than whimpers of frustration. But that was exactly what Geralt wanted. He wanted to see you completely desperate, surrendered under his body, begging for his touch.

"Please, wolf, I need you... I need to feel you inside me, please." You begged him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He took his fingers covered with your sweet nectar into his mouth, sucking them clean as he moaned around them. It was the hottest image you had ever seen. He was so focused on the taste of your arousal touching his tongue that for a moment you feared he might not be able to hear your pleas for attention.

“I’m yours to take… please, wolf. I need you.”

The pathetic desperation in your voice was enough for Geralt. He wasted no time, freeing his cock from its confinement and thrusting it into you in one swift movement that left you breathless. He was big and even though your arousal was seeping down your thighs, it always took you a moment to get used to the way he stretched you. He showed you some mercy, giving you a few seconds to adjust while he enjoyed the way your walls closed around his cock. Nothing compared to the warm feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, pulling him inside you, inviting him to stay. It was the closest he had ever been to heaven, if there was such a thing.

Geralt let out a grunt as you began to move your hips against him, urging him to move. He placed his hands on either side of your head, effectively imprisoning you under his large, imposing figure. Then he gave you a sloppy, wet kiss, biting your lower lip before moving closer to your ear. "Just remember you asked for this." He whispered, sealing your fate.

The rhythm he set was fast and rough, his hips moving against yours desperately. The sheer force of his thrusts was such that you had to cling to his body to keep from sliding upward each time he entered you. It hurt a little, but in the most delicious way. He hit that special place inside you with every thrust of his hips, turning you into an incoherent moaning mess that could do nothing but dig your nails into his back in a desperate attempt to keep you grounded. Pure pleasure coursed through your veins as you felt Geralt pressing deep inside you, filling you and claiming you as his. Your sweat covered skin was on fire, only finding relief when the witcher's cold medallion that dangled over your face made contact with your body.

"Scream! I want to hear you, bunny. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Geralt demanded and your body instantly obeyed, as if he was the true owner of your mind. "That's it, don't hold back. No one is going to find us here, you can scream all you want. It's just me and you."

The forest filled with your moans and Geralt's animalistic grunts. He couldn't contain himself, seeing you underneath him with your tangled hair full of dry leaves and your watery eyes full of pleasure was too much for him. He couldn't stop the fast rhythm of his hips even if he wanted to. The wolf inside him wanted to ruin you completely, to mark you as his and make sure you were never satisfied with any other man but him. You belonged to him, now and forever.

"You wanted this, you craved it... my little bunny, desperate to get fucked like a bitch in heat." He growled against the skin of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive area below your ear.

"Yes! F-fuck, please... I'm so close." You begged him, feeling the familiar tingle spreading in your stomach as your toes curled. His fingers traveled to the little bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs, stroking it with rapid circular motions that increased your level of desperation. You were so close to your relief it was almost painful, but you wanted to wait, to hold back your pleasure so you could explode alongside Geralt.

"You want me to fill you up, mark you as mine, huh? Breed you with my pups so everyone knows you're mine?" It was an empty promise and you both knew it. Geralt was sterile and no matter how much he wanted to, he could not father a child. But that didn't make his words any less arousing. The idea of being his and having his child growing in your belly to prove it was so enticing that you couldn't help but entwine your legs around his waist as a way to make sure he didn't slip out from inside you.

"Yes, please! I'm yours, I always will be and I want everyone to know!"

"That's right, you are. And I'm yours." Geralt grunted, leaning his forehead against yours to look you in the eye as he quickened his movements, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased the sweet relief. "Can you feel how deep inside you I am?" He took your hand and pressed it against your lower belly, where you could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. "I'm going to shoot my seed so deep into you, you'll carry it inside you until your belly starts to swell up with my pups inside it. Is that what you want?"

"Yes! Please, give it to me, wolf! I need to feel you, please." You begged with your last breath, almost bursting into tears from the intensity of the pleasure you felt.

Two more thrusts were all it took for Geralt to push you over the edge. You came with a cry of his name, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as your warm walls tightened around his cock, forcing him to stay inside you. That was enough to trigger his own relief, his cock twitching inside you as he shot his load deep inside your cunt, painting your walls with pearly white ropes of cum. And yet, he continued to thrust inside you, making your body shake from the overstimulation. He wanted to make sure his seed stayed inside you. He wanted to be able to smell the mix of his relief and yours on you for the rest of the day.

When he finally pulled away you groaned, feeling empty. Geralt let out an airy chuckle as he dropped down next to you, struggling to catch his breath. He pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and resting your head on his chest. Even after all that, he still needed to hold you close, to feel the warmth of your body against his.

You stayed like that until your breathing returned to normal, reveling in each other's closeness. You were so relaxed in his arms that you might well have fallen asleep if not for Geralt breaking the peaceful silence by clearing his throat.

"We should head back." he murmured, his fingers tracing imaginary lines on the exposed skin of your arm.

"I would if I could move." You joked as you began to feel the pain in your tired muscles. You didn't regret anything, though.

"I'm sorry."

You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, giving him a smile to ease the guilt he might be feeling for hurting you. "Don't be, you did exactly what I wanted you to do." You reached up to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated, cupping your cheek with his free hand so he could deepen the kiss.

However, he pulled away faster than you expected. You whined again, but he ignored you, getting up from the floor and shaking the dirt off his clothes. "It's getting late, we need to go." He said and you huffed. You weren't ready to move yet.

"Geraaalt" you complained, pouting. He looked down at you, ready to scold you, but was distracted by the sight of his artwork in all its glory. Your sweat-covered skin glowed under the afternoon light, highlighting your beauty. Your body was covered in his teeth marks and a trail of reddened hickeys trailed from your neck to your breasts and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. You carried his scent on your body, his seed inside you and his teeth marks on your skin. That alone was enough to awaken the wolf inside him once again, though he held back.

"You look beautiful." He said, kneeling beside you to help you knot the ties in the front of your dress, hiding your breasts and the marks he had made behind the fabric.

The softness in Geralt's eyes was such that you felt the need to hide your face, feeling embarrassed and somehow more exposed than when you were having sex. However, he didn't give you time to react as he quickly pulled you into his arms and made his way back to the hut. You relaxed in his arms, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and snuggling against his shoulder.

"I love you." you said in an almost inaudible whisper. It was as if you were speaking more to yourself than for Geralt to hear you. As if the words had escaped your lips as you were lost in thought.

But Geralt's hearing was exceptionally good. And he couldn't help but smile to himself as he heard those words.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #the witcher smut #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher netflix

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yandere-sins · 4 months ago

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HELLO HAPPY NEW YEAR.... i would like to request a continuation of that super yummy quiet!reader/yandere!geralt piece you posted a year back? there's so much horny potential.... please i, i need to know what happens next,, i beseech you,, perhaps with him taunting reader and using it against them later, like you wrote?? or eVEN... him taking off the collar ONLY when he's fucking them where other people can hear/see them so everybody thinks reader's absolutely into it?? thank you sm either way <3

Thank you for requesting! I kept this request for a while to think about it, so sorry for the long wait! ^^

[Part 1]

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content (Grinding, Thigh Job, Fingering, Teasing, Public Indecency (and getting caught), Humiliation), AFAB!Reader, Darling Breaking

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Enough teasing," Geralt grunted, leaning forward and forcing you to bend over the table with him.

You whimpered as the exciting pleasure of the grind was interrupted, mewled even, as his hips separated from yours. Now that you had decided to enjoy this, use him as much as he used you for his own desires, he tore apart the connection between you two? Unfair!

With your hands braced on top of the table, you pushed your body back, earning yourself the satisfaction of feeling his cock perfectly molded against your sex again. Geralt gave a surprised groan before he chuckled, his hands that had fallen from your waist returning to your sides as he lifted you up and forward as he needed you.

"Getting greedy now, eh?" he teased, and with no chance to voice your discontent, you huffed. But the dissatisfaction turned into another bolt of pleasure very quickly as Geralt bucked his hips, sending you chest down on the table but with your sex quivering in delight. You didn't know what he was doing behind you as he began fiddling with something out of sight. But if he wanted teasing, he could have it, and shaking your ass as you glanced back at him had more than the desired effect, the apparent redness across Geralt's face spreading to his ears while he reached up to stiffle a groan with his hand.

You saw his other arm moving below your butt, but he collected his composure so quickly—gripping your waist hard with his free hand and slamming you back into his lap—that you had no time to realize what he was doing. Not until you felt it, that is, hard and throbbing between your thighs.

Twisting your torso around, you gave him an appalled look, almost gasping out the question of how he could bare himself in such a crowded place. But your cut off voice was met with a smirk as Geralt nodded his head to the side, knowing fully well what you were meant to say without needing to hear it.

"Not like we're the only ones fooling around, Sweetheart."

Biting your lip, you glanced at the tables around you, trying not to stare and not to be too obvious as you checked out the whores. You saw glimpses of skin under the tables, hands where they shouldn't be stuck. Some lap-sitting ladies were rolling their hips suspiciously, biting their lips and letting their heads fall back. They looked happy, excited—almost like you.

It was your turn for the heat to spread across your whole face, burning at the tips of your ears as you realized others were having fun out in the open without any sense of shame and dignity. And you were one of them now, Geralt grinding your hips up and down his length. You felt every drag as if it was inside you, your thighs abused as a sex toy while your cunt throbbed desperately, yearning to have his cock shoved into you deeply.

The trousers you wore covered you enough from curious eyes that licked their lips at the salacious sight of you two getting it on, but not from the precum and slick that spread and stained the fabric, your panties soaking wet as your hips were slammed into Geralts over and over.

You couldn't tell anyone how disgusted you felt by your own body's reaction. How much you resented Geralt for turning you into public entertainment, abusing your needs for his own pleasure. You wanted to scream and shout at him, but even more so, you wanted the sweet release from this nightmare. The grinding was fine and dandy, but you needed more stimulation to get rid of the pent-up frustration, even if it meant overcoming your own disgust.

Reaching down, you grabbed one of his hands, wrapping your entire palm around his fingers. He didn't seem to mind you holding on to him for support, but Geralt hummed questioningly as he noticed you trying to drag his grip forward rather than away from you. He let go immediately, allowing you to do whatever you wanted with his hand, curious and devoted to you as he was. And when you placed his palm against your exposed belly, you heard him chuckle behind you as he noticed your unbuttoned pants.

You were relieved that he caught on so quickly. Relieved for the first time that you didn't need to shamefully say what you wanted aloud. And most importantly: Relieved as you felt his hand sink into your panties, greeted with the wet and hot mess that was your pussy. He found your clit with no problem, probed, and massaged it as your walls clenched miserably around nothing. His own pleasure halted, his cock throbbing and bobbing between your thighs impatiently. But like an eager scholar, Geralt fixated on your pleasure that you had denied him for so long.

His hand was bulging out your pants as he played stimulating pranks on your nub. The transition from his fingers pulling and teasing to his thumb working your clit into a hot mess was so seemless, you only noticed his wandering hands as they began exploring your entrance.

You both let out a blissful moan as he slipped the first two digits into you, your body immediately yearning for more. But when you spread your legs even a little to accompany his large hand, giving it easier access, he immediately stopped, his hand digging into your waist, growing firm.

"Keep them together. Don't be mean."

You gritted your teeth, your instincts trained well on defiance, but Geralt—quite literally—had the upper hand, not helping you as long a you weren't helping him. Reluctantly, knowing fully well you'd not get as much depth and stimulation as you wanted if you closed your legs, you did as you were told, feeling surprised as Geralt bucked his hips first before putting his fingers into motion. He grunted, satisfied, as you squeezed your thighs around his cock again, thinking to yourself that the fabric couldn't possibly be a comforting feeling against the sensitive skin, but he didn't seem to mind.

Steadying you across your chest with his free arm, Geralt leaned back, taking you with him. Now there was much more space and freedom for both of you to get the pleasure you deserved, and while you barely kept your moans behind clasped teeth and bitten lips, Geralt buried his face in your shoulder, his husky voice shaking through your whole body as if spoken directly to your soul.

"That's right, squeeze them as tightly as you squeeze my fingers. Do you like that? My fingers inside you? You're so wet; I'd have fucked you much earlier if I knew you liked it that much. Guess you're not so pure are you? Hiding this sweet, wet cunt from me all this time?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as Geralt exposed you, laying bare that you were, at the end of the day, just a human with needs and longing for satisfaction like any other. You wished you could have been more virtuous, needing less of him than you did at that moment, but he was so right, knowing fully well that if he were to stop caressing you, you'd become a pitiful, begging mess. At that moment, you were no better than these whores who enjoyed the attention they got a little too much. You wanted it all and wanted it now, getting greedier by the second.

"Time to admit it, Babe," he mumbled, planting a goose-bump erecting kiss to the nape of your neck as he made your spine curve, handling your body as he wanted. You were so close to the edge as he bucked his hips upwards as hard as he could, using the leverage to place his hand beneath your slit, perfectly situated for you to plummet on it, giving you the most earth-shattering orgasm you had ever experienced. No playing with yourself, imagining uncouth scenarios of depravity in your head, could have prepared you for this.

And in the most inappropriate, vulnerable moment, you felt your throat tightening before the magical collar snapped off, loudly letting an uncontained, unfiltered moan, followed by a still dazed, "Fuck, yes!" echo through the tavern.

Around you, things got awkwardly quiet; hushed voices and clearing of throats could be heard while you felt Geralt shake behind you, his own hot mess spilling over your thighs, some shooting against your belly. You faced the wooden table, gasping for air as you rode the waves of your miserable orgasm. Only when someone next to you remarked mockingly, "Well, someone's having fun here," did you feel the shame and embarrassment tremble through your body, tears overflooding your eyes and dripping onto the wood as chuckles and laughter went through the patrons.

Geralt sighed blissfully while you wouldn't dare to lift your head from the humiliation. It seemed like no big deal to him, and the opinions of these people shouldn't have mattered much to you, either. They were just as undignified and driven by their needs as you were, but since they didn't need to hide it, they at least knew how to keep it to themselves. Other than you, who had just lost the losing game of caving into Geralt's obsession for your own needs.

"I think you two should go," someone said sternly in front of you, and you recognized the barmaid's voice, a sob eluding you. There was so much scorn and distaste in the way she said it, so much dismissal rather than concern about you. And perhaps, a little bit of jealousy. Another sob escaped before you could use your hand to muffle yourself. Still, the barmaid either didn't hear or cared about it, putting the final nail in the coffin for you. "You're making the others uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable? You were fucking humiliated!

"Alright, alright," Geralt said unconfrontationally, pushing you up and off his lap, your trousers still covered in stains and cum, as well as tears that kept falling from your eyes as you couldn't get yourself to look up and face the mockery of the people that thought you enjoyed this abuse. Which you did, and you hated yourself for it. Geralt quickly got himself situated again before grabbing the collar and your wrist, pulling you off the bench and after him as he made you do a walk of shame out of the tavern.

You heard every snicker, every snarky comment. All the whispers about what kind of bitch you were and how only someone like you could stand being a "Witcher's Toy". Geralt didn't seem to mind. Not enough to stop and defend your honor, clear up the misunderstanding, and make you feel better. He didn't even seem to care about your tears and shame when you two finally reached Roach, mistaking the droplets on your face for the rain that poured down.

Still, he wrapped you tightly in a blanket and made sure you went on top of the horse first before taking his seat behind you, holding you tightly against him. You couldn't help but lean into his chest willingly for the first time in a long while, exhausted and still crying. The silence as you two rode down the muddy street and off into the forest to find shelter from the rain made what just happened even more shameful. It made you feel used, even though it had been you who wanted to use Geralt for once. You wanted to say something just to break the ice, but you couldn't find the words even without the collar.

It took another hour until you three stumbled over an abandoned house, dirty and full of bugs but good enough for shelter from the rain. Geralt helped you off Roach before making sure she was settled beneath a wooden roof. She was happy to just be out of the rain, and he took your hand and secured the inside of the house first before getting you two dry as well. Even with him starting a fire, you felt frozen to the bone, partially because of the rain and partially because you felt completely dead inside, worn down and empty. Where you had once been filled with life, defiance, dignity, and strength, everything seemed to have poured out of you together with the orgasm and the humiliation that followed.

"Take your clothes off, you're soaked."

Gripping the blanket tightly around you, you kept standing there as Geralt stoked the fire, waiting for you to simply obey and do as you were told. "Come on," he urged when he noticed you were unresponsive. "You'll catch a cold."

But even so, you couldn't let go of the cover.

Even when you felt like everything was cruel and meaningless, you couldn't obey him. He, who had wronged you so many times, made a fool out of you to the point where you didn't even care. Geralt rose from the firepit, standing before you as you two stared at each other in silence. That night, boundaries had been crossed. Things had been done that couldn't be forgotten. Your life had collapsed under the weight of his obsession, and you didn't know how to rebuild the crumbled sense of self you felt.

Geralt raised his hand, brushing his knuckles along your cheek, a mix of concern and affection in his expression as he caressed you.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice a small rumble. "I couldn't help it. Seeing you look at other people, not hearing you say how good it felt—I couldn't help any of it."

Your tears were still hot as they ran down your cheeks, and this time, Geralt had to notice them as they dripped over his hand. He halted, a moment of sadness flashing in his eyes before he leaned down, kissing you as if to comfort you. As if anything he gave you truly brought you any solace—you learned it the hard way that night. His hands fell to your shoulders, gripping the blanket you held onto so tightly, pulling and stretching it until he could free it from your grasp and make it fall to the ground.

"I can't help loving you even more every second we are together," he whispered against your lips, and a sob escaped you, muffled by the kiss. You didn't want to be loved by him, didn't want to be comforted or caressed. You wished you had never met him as you stood there, forced to allow him to undress you so you wouldn't catch a cold. Forced to be spooned by his naked body to stay warm and forced to be taken care of by him even though you wanted to throw up from the feeling of his skin against yours.

"And I'll never stop loving you," he assured you as you lay in his suffocating hug, crying and sobbing, your whole body shaking in disgust and shame.

Praying to any god that could hear you, begging to end your misery.

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actually-mentally-ill · 6 months ago

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why are some of the hottest tv men always the biggest criminals 🧍‍♀️

like how am i supposed to hate you when you’re ripped, tall, dangerous, blue-eyed with a leather jacket?

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mystra-midnight · 1 year ago

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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.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #the witcher #geralt x reader #geralt #geralt fanfiction #geralt smut

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year ago

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Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again…

It was another busy day where knights, men and women of all corners came in to rest their battle-weary feet and drink mead. There would be the occasional brawl but they were nothing when you compared it to battling a cursed wyvern with a blindfold.

You exited the back room having just refilled the pitcher of cool mead when a familiar grunt caught your attention. Just behind a rowdy table of farmers, in the corner, sat the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia - and a bard who was far too chipper while sober.

Inching a little closer, you busied yourself with empty flagons while remaining within earshot of the pair.

“Come on - it’s not a bad lyric. Ah, what do you know? You can wield a sword but not understand the complex meaning behind a beautiful string of words.” The bard said.

Geralt scoffed. “It wasn’t complex.”

An old man slid a few coins across the table for the service which you pocketed and then moved on to the next.

“We can’t stay long.” Geralt told his companion. You glanced back briefly and saw the brightly dressed man staring into his coin satchel, concerned.

“I could swear there was more silver in here. Geralt, I think I’ve been indecently swindled.”

You wanted to confirm that the man could easily have fallen prey to the notorious pick-pockets that haunt the tavern but you stayed silent, now distracted by a customer who ordered some pies.

“Don’t forget the carrots this time.” He reminded.

You wanted to tell him where to shove his carrots but heard your name being shouted from across the floor.

“Y/n, I need a word!” It was the tavern owner who enjoyed paying you less than what you were owed. With a sigh, you trudged over to him away from most prying ears. “You’ve been waiting on those tables long enough. Deliver those pies and refill goblets on the double or I’ll show you out the door.”

You had half a mind to bite back but chose to hold the words at bay. In ten minutes, the pie was ready to be collected from the kitchens. As you walked it to the table, you made the decision to confront Geralt but upon approaching his table, found that the Witcher and his bard had vanished, leaving behind some coins for the hospitality.

Geralt would have heard your name being bellowed. He would have seen you answer the call. And yet, he still left?

Typical!

The farmer who had ordered the food found his plate empty as you swerved around his chair and rushed out the wooden door. Turning left, you followed the small path down to where riders often tied their horses, your own being one of them - spotting the familiar silver hair and lute of the bard.

Words appeared to have failed and rational thoughts had abandoned your mind the second you fled.

Your hand flipped the pie out of its casing and with one, well-aimed throw, found its mark. The bard screamed and the Witcher stopped in his tracks instantly stilling for a few seconds.

Then he turned, his jaw clenched. “Did you throw a meat pie at my head?”

You tossed the empty pan over your shoulder. “You bet I did and I’ll do it again.”

The bard at Geralt’s side grabbed his guitar and hid behind the broad-shouldered man fearing that he would be next. “Oh, they’re pissed. What did you do?”

Geralt exhaled as he pulled stray bits of pastry out of his locks. “I’m not sure…”

“Not sure? You fucking ignored me in the tavern! Friends for years and it doesn’t warrant a simple ‘hello’?” You yelled.

Jaskier peered out from behind, “Oh, he’s always like that. We’ve been friends for several weeks and he pretends to hardly know me - such a jest.” He chuckled to himself quite fondly.

Ignoring the brightly coloured song man, Geralt addressed you, now free from the discarded food. He had indeed acknowledged the your presence the minute he set foot in the tavern but found himself reliving old memories instead - some good, others painful.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that business with the striga.”

“The striga?” You repeated, remembering the event he was referring to where he had taken claim over the beasts defeat instead of giving you proper recognition. “That was over a year ago, I was bitter for perhaps a few weeks but no more. But you wouldn’t know that because you ran off with Roach.”

“I didn’t run off - I just - you were injured and I had no reason to hang around while you healed.” The Witcher explained. “In hindsight, I probably should have checked in.”

You nodded vehemently. “And since you didn’t, you’re very deserving of that meat pie.”

“The pie was mean.” Geralt frowned.

“Oh a tale of a strained but beautiful friendship filled with battles and miscommunication - you must regale me with the details.” Jaskier grinned.

You would gladly do so if your old friend would have your company once more. Raising a brow at Geralt, you posed the silent question.

“Don’t you have a job?” Geralt asked.

You squinted in return. “I abandoned my post and stole a pie. I’m surely fired.”

“Fine - but only until the next village.” The Witcher negotiated, knowing full well that his friend would likely be staying for a longer time. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up on his horse with a small grunt.

You shared a similar grin to the bard and sent a high whistle into the air to call forth your own steed for the journey ahead.

When the horse approached, you took hold of the reins and walked alongside Jaskier.

“While we’re on the topic, I’ll tell you about the time when Geralt fought an ifrit almost fully naked.” You winked and caught the eye roll on your friends face.

Jaskier pulled his guitar to the front and strummed a few strings to start a catchy tune. “Oh, I’m ready for this.”

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #witcher x reader #witcher imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #jaskier imagine #jason x reader #jaskier x reader #geralt of river x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

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