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raekensluver · 22 days ago

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lethal love

masterlist | main masterlist

description: a fight with an unsub takes a deathly turn...

pairing: spencer reid x fiancée!fem!agent!reader

contains: angst, established relationship, guns, typical criminal minds violence, reader is stabbed, reader dies in spencer's arms.

song rec: sign of the times by harry styles - "will we ever learn? we've been here before."

w.c: 4.0k

a/n: sorry :(

the weight of the bulletproof vest pressed down on your shoulders as you secured the last strap, each click echoing through the quiet room like the tick of a clock. it felt heavier than usual today, the fabric warm and stifling against your skin. you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the faint scent of metal and the lingering odor of fear that clung to the air in moments like these. the vest was a constant reminder of the unpredictability of the job, a silent companion whispering tales of valor and sacrifice.

to your left, spencer, your fiancé of less than a week, was intently listening to emily's words. her sharp gaze was focused, her hands animated as she laid out the new details of the case that you had been working on for a week. the intensity of her briefing was palpable, the scene around her seemingly electrified by the urgency of the situation. spencer nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, his mind already racing through the labyrinth of facts and probabilities that would be his to navigate in the coming hours.

you grabbed his vest from the back of the van, the fabric whispering against your hands as you pulled it free. the weight of it in your grasp was a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. it was a piece of equipment that could mean the difference between life and death, and as you handed it to him, you felt a sudden, intense wave of love and protection for this man who had chosen you. the vest was placed into his hands and he looked at you, his eyes flickering with a mix of gratitude and determination. he knew what was at stake, not just for the case, but for the future that you had so recently promised each other.

the fbi's tactical unit was already set up, the stark contrast between their professional calmness and the chaotic anticipation in your heart was stark. they communicated in hushed tones, their faces a mask of concentration as they surveyed the warehouse that loomed in the distance, a silent sentinel of the horrors that might be waiting within. the air was thick with tension, the occasional snap of a radio the only sound breaking the silence. you could see the muscles in spencer's jaw tighten as he took in the scene, his mind racing to piece together the puzzle that was the unsub's motive.

emily, her voice a beacon of clarity in the tumult, turned to you both. her eyes searched yours briefly, a silent question, before she began to speak. "as you know, the unsub is highly intelligent, meticulous, and has shown a pattern of targeting law enforcement. he's elusive, but his mo suggests a vendetta that's personal. be ready for anything," she warned, her gaze flicking to the tactical gear you both wore. "he's known to use traps and misdirection, so stay sharp and trust your instincts. he's been two steps ahead of us at every turn, but we're going to change that today."

you nodded, the weight of her words sinking in, and reached for your earpiece. with a quick motion, you slid it into place, the sudden embrace of cold plastic against your skin jolting you to attention. you gave spencer a firm look, the kind that conveyed everything without saying a word. fear, excitement, determination - it all reflected in his eyes before he mirrored your actions, donning his own earpieces with a quiet resolve that sent a shiver down your spine.

together, you and spencer moved towards the warehouse, each step measured and silent. the concrete was slick beneath your boots from a recent rain, the water mixing with the grime to create a treacherous dance of shadows and light that played out under the flickering streetlamps. in the distance, you could hear the distant wail of a siren, a mournful cry that seemed to echo the anxiety building in your chest.

you paused at the edge of the building, the shadows playing tricks on your eyes as you peered around the corner. "i'll take the front," you murmured into the microphone, your voice low and steady. "you circle around back." you felt spencer's eyes on you, his hand reaching out to squeeze your arm reassuringly. "be careful," he said, the words barely audible, but the concern in his voice was clear as a bell.

you gave a curt nod and moved forward, your heart hammering in your chest with every step. the rain had picked up, the droplets pattering against your helmet like a thousand tiny drums. your hand gripped the butt of your gun, the cold metal a comforting presence. the warehouse loomed in front of you, a monolith of darkness that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. you could feel the eyes of the unsub on you, watching, waiting.

as you approached the entrance, you noticed the subtle signs of tampering - the door slightly ajar, the faint scent of something acrid in the air. your instincts screamed at you to be wary. you crouched low, your eyes scanning the area for any traps or booby-traps that could be lying in wait. the rain had washed away any potential footprints, leaving the scene eerily clean, as if the unsub had never been there at all.

spencer's voice crackled in your ear, "i'm in position at the rear. no signs of movement yet." his words were a comfort, a lifeline connecting you both in the darkness. the warehouse was vast, a labyrinth of corrugated metal and shadows that seemed to stretch on forever. the sirens grew louder, the sound bouncing off the buildings and echoing through the streets, a discordant symphony that only heightened the tension.

you took a deep breath, your heart racing as you pushed open the door. the sound of it squealing on its hinges was like a gunshot in the quiet night. the darkness inside was absolute, a stark contrast to the harsh reality outside. you flicked on your flashlight, the beam slicing through the gloom and revealing a dance of dust motes in the air. the floor was slick, the smell of oil and decay permeating the space.

before you could respond to spencer, movement caught your eye. it was fast, a blur of shadow darting towards you from the corner of the room. your instincts took over, your hand rising in a fluid motion to aim at the threat. "i've got movement!" you barked into the mic, adrenaline flooding your veins. the figure was on you in a second, and suddenly, you were falling, your body slammed to the ground. the impact knocked the wind out of you, and for a moment, everything went fuzzy.

the unsub was on top of you, his hands scrabbling at your vest, trying to get to your weapon. you could feel the panic rising, a bubble in your chest that threatened to burst. but training kicked in, and you managed to keep your grip, pushing him off with a grunt. you rolled away, bringing your gun to bear, but the flashlight had been knocked from your hand, and you were momentarily blinded by the sudden darkness.

spencer's voice was in your ear, urgent and concerned. "are you okay? what's going on?" but the struggle was too intense to respond. your lungs burned as you tried to suck in air, the weight of the vest feeling like it would crush you. the unsub was quick, his movements erratic and unpredictable. you could feel the cold steel of his knife graze against your arm, and you bit back a cry of pain.

his voice was low and taunting, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "you think this makes you invincible?" the sound of the vest being torn away from your body was a mix of fabric tearing and your own panic. the sudden exposure to the cool air was a stark contrast to the warmth that had been trapped against your skin. "now, let's see if you're as brave without your little armor, shall we?"

you could hear the sneer in his voice, the malicious delight in his words, and you knew that you had to fight back. with every ounce of strength you had left, you threw your elbow into his gut, feeling a moment of satisfaction as he grunted in pain. he staggered back, giving you enough room to scramble to your feet. the pain in your nose was intense, a throbbing pulse that sent stars swirling before your eyes. you could taste the coppery tang of blood in your mouth, feel it dripping down your chin.

the world was a blur, the only thing in focus the glint of the knife in his hand. your training took over, pushing through the fog of pain and fear. you knew that you had to keep moving, to stay unpredictable. you darted to the side, trying to use the darkness to your advantage, but the unsub was fast. he was on you again, his grip like a vice around your arm. the cold steel of the knife was at your throat, the tip of it pressing into your skin, sending a fresh wave of panic crashing through your body.

and then, there was a sudden flash of light, and spencer was there. his eyes were wide with fear, his own gun trained on the unsub. "stop," he said, his voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos that was unfolding before him. "it's over. we know who you are. we know what you've done." his words were a beacon in the darkness, a promise that help had arrived, that you weren't alone.

the unsub's grip on you tightened, his eyes darting to spencer, then back to you. "you think this changes anything?" he spat, the knife digging deeper into your flesh. "you're all the same, playing god with your badges and your guns." spencer took a step closer, his eyes never leaving the unsub's. "i know you've had a vendetta against cops, but she's not just a cop." the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, a raw emotion that seemed to resonate through the warehouse.

you felt a warmth spread through you, the fear momentarily abating as you watched spencer. the tears in your eyes weren't just from the pain; they were for the love that was so palpable between you both, a love that had grown stronger through the years of working side by side, solving cases, and now, facing death together. the rain outside seemed to mimic the deluge of feelings within you, the droplets on your face mixing with the tears that slipped down your cheeks.

spencer's voice was a balm, his words a gentle reminder of who you were and why you were here. "she's a daughter, a fiancée. my fiancée. she's part of me," he continued, his voice unwavering. "she's more than just a target to you." but the unsub's eyes remained cold, his grip unyielding. "you think that means anything to me?" he sneered, his voice as sharp as the knife he weld. "you're all just numbers, statistics in the grand scheme of things."

you felt the knife at your throat twitch, a precursor to the horror that was about to unfold. your heart hammered in your chest, each beat echoing like a gunshot in the silence of the warehouse. spencer's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you could see the fear, the love, and the resolve that burned within him. "please," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "please don't do this."

but the unsub's grip remained firm, his eyes glinting with a manic excitement that sent a shiver down your spine. "it's already done," he murmured, the knife's tip digging deeper into your flesh. "you can't stop what's coming." spencer's voice grew stronger, more assertive. "i know you're smarter than this," he said, his voice a lifeline in the sea of fear that threatened to drown you. "you're not just some mindless killer. you have a reason for this. tell me what it is."

his words hung in the air, a silent plea that seemed to resonate with the unsub. for a moment, you could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, a crack in the armor of his madness. "my reasons are my own," he said finally, his voice low and menacing. "you'll never understand." the knife at your throat twitched again, and you felt the warmth of blood trickle down your neck.

then, emily's voice crackled in your ear. "backup's on the way," she said, the words a lifeline thrown into the abyss of your fear. but before you could even begin to feel relief, spencer's voice cut through, loud and urgent. "no, emily, don't!" but it was too late. the sound of boots on the wet concrete grew louder, the shadows outside the warehouse door morphing into figures with guns drawn.

the unsub's eyes widened with glee, a twisted smile stretching across his face as he tightened his grip on the knife. "perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "now, they'll watch you die." the knife pressed deeper, the pain so intense it was almost numbing. you could see spencer's expression change, the calm resolve replaced by a searing rage that seemed to set his eyes on fire.

the backup agents burst through the doors, their weapons sweeping the room in a deadly arc. but the unsub was ready for them, his own weapon now pointing directly at spencer. "drop it, reid, we got it from here," one of the agents shouted, but spencer didn't move, his gaze locked on yours. the unsub took the opportunity to press the knife even further, a sickening crunch filling the air as it pierced through the fragile barrier of your neck. the world began to dim around the edges, the pain giving way to a cold, empty numbness.

spencer's face was a mask of agony as he watched you, the love in his eyes turning to fury. he knew that the backup was there, that you were supposed to be safe, but in that moment, all he could see was the crimson river flowing from the gaping wound, the light in your eyes fading away. without hesitation, he squeezed the trigger, the bullet flying true. the unsub's smile froze on his face, his grip on the knife loosening as he stumbled backward, the life draining from his body.

you felt the world spin as darkness closed in, spencer's arms wrapping around you, catching you as you fell to the floor. the cold, hard concrete was a stark contrast to his warm embrace, the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. you could feel the warmth of his tears mixing with the rainwater on your cheeks, the tremble in his body as he held you tightly. "you're okay," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "you're going to be okay."

his hands were gentle as they moved over your neck, applying pressure to the wound. the pain was a distant throb, a reminder that you were still alive, still fighting. the sound of the unsub's body hitting the ground was a dull thud, lost to the symphony of rain and sirens that filled the air. spencer's breath was hot against your ear, his voice a whispered chant that seemed to keep the darkness at bay.

"stay with me," he pleaded, his voice tight with fear. "don't you dare leave me here alone." the warmth of his breath mixed with the metallic scent of blood, creating a potent cocktail of fear and love that washed over you like a wave. the rain continued to fall, the drops hitting the warehouse roof like a million tiny fists, a relentless rhythm that matched the erratic beating of your heart.

you tried to speak, to reassure him, but the words caught in your throat, a gurgle of blood escaping instead. your eyes searched his, finding the love that had grown stronger with every case you had faced together, every danger you had survived. "when did you know?" you managed to croak out, the question barely audible over the cacophony of the storm and the sirens that grew ever closer.

spencer's eyes searched yours, the question echoing in the tension that filled the space between you. "know what?" he murmured, his voice thick with fear and confusion.

you coughed, the pain in your throat searing. "that you wanted to marry me," you whispered, the words barely audible over the din of the rain and approaching sirens.

spencer's eyes searched yours, the fear slowly giving way to understanding. "the moment i realized i couldn't imagine a world without you in it," he replied, his voice choked with emotion. "you're the one who makes sense of the chaos, who brings light to the darkest of cases."

the sirens grew louder, the wail a cacophony that seemed to pierce the very core of your soul. you felt the warmth of spencer's hands on your neck, the pressure steady and reassuring. the world around you was a blur, the pain a distant throb that paled in comparison to the overwhelming love that filled you.

"you're not going anywhere," spencer murmured, his voice a lifeline in the storm of pain and fear. "not now, not ever." his eyes searched yours, desperation etched into every line of his face. "you're going to be fine," he said, the words a mantra that seemed to hold the darkness at bay.

you tried to nod, but the movement sent a fresh wave of agony through your body. instead, you whispered the words that had been on the tip of your tongue for so long. "i love you," you said, your voice barely more than a breath. the rain outside seemed to pause, the world holding its breath as you made your confession.

spencer's eyes widened, a mix of shock and relief flooding his features. "i love you too," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "more than anything." his hand reached up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing away the blood that was starting to pool beneath your chin. the warmth of his touch was like a beacon, guiding you through the darkness that threatened to swallow you whole.

the sirens grew louder, the wail of the emergency vehicles a crescendo that seemed to shake the very foundation of the warehouse. the sound was a stark contrast to the quiet intimacy of your confession, a reminder of the chaos that was about to come crashing in on you both. spencer's grip on you tightened, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered, "you're going to be okay. i'll make sure of it."

but the truth was, you didn't know if you would. the darkness was spreading, a cold embrace that seemed to suck the warmth from your body. your hand reached up, finding his, and you squeezed it tightly, the strength leaving your body in a rush. the world was spinning, the shadows swirling around you like a tornado of pain and fear.

spencer's voice grew distant, the sound of his panicked whispers a comfort that grew fainter with every passing second. the rain continued its relentless assault, the drops mixing with your tears to form a river that flowed into the abyss. you could feel yourself slipping away, the warmth of his touch growing colder, his voice a distant echo.

the world around you began to fade, the darkness closing in like the jaws of a predator eager to claim its prey. the sirens grew distant, the sounds of the approaching cavalry a muffled drumbeat that seemed to come from another world entirely. the pain in your neck was a dull throb, a heartbeat that grew slower with every passing moment.

you clung to consciousness with a fierce determination, desperate to hang onto the warmth of spencer's embrace. memories flooded your mind, a kaleidoscope of moments that had led you to this fateful night. you thought back to the first time you had met him, his shy smile and the way his eyes had lit up when you had talked about the case that had brought you together. the way his mind worked was like nothing you had ever seen, a whirlwind of brilliance that had both intimidated and intrigued you.

your first date had been simple, a quiet dinner in a restaurant that had been his favorite spot. you remembered the way his hands had trembled slightly as he reached for yours across the table, the gentle way he had looked at you, as if he had finally found something precious that he never wanted to let go of. it had been a moment of pure, unbridled joy, a spark that had set alight the flame of love that had burned steadily through the years.

his proposal had been unexpected, a sudden flash of vulnerability in the middle of a hectic case. you had been poring over files, your eyes burning with fatigue, when he had looked up at you, his own eyes filled with a hope and love that had taken your breath away. the way he had fumbled with the ring, his voice shaking with emotion, had been so utterly human, so utterly spencer.

you had stared at the ring, the diamond winking at you like a star that had fallen from the sky, and felt your heart swell with joy. "yes," you had said, the word a promise that seemed to echo through the room. "yes, i'll marry you." the moment had been perfect, a snapshot of happiness in a world that so often dealt in pain and suffering.

now, as you lay in his arms, the reality of your situation crashing down upon you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. regret that you hadn't had the chance to explore that love more deeply, to build a life together outside of the shadow of your work. regret that you won't get the chance to walk down the aisle, to see the joy in his eyes as he watched you come toward him.

spencer's voice grew more urgent, his words a desperate plea that seemed to echo through the darkness. "don't go," he said, his grip on your hand tightening. "stay with me." the rain outside seemed to mirror your own tears, a mournful cry that echoed the pain in your heart.

you tried to smile, to reassure him, but the effort was too much. your eyes drifted shut, the darkness pulling you under like a relentless tide. you felt his hand squeeze yours one last time, a silent declaration of his love and his fear. "i'm here," he whispered, his voice a lifeline that you clung to with all your fading strength.

the warehouse was a cacophony of noise now, the sirens and the shouts of the approaching agents a dissonant symphony that seemed to grow louder with every passing second. the world was spinning, the cold seeping into your bones as the warmth of spencer's embrace began to fade.

spencer's voice grew more frantic, his whispers of love and reassurance now a desperate chant that seemed to hang in the air like a prayer. "stay with me," he repeated, his voice a ragged sob that tore at your heart. "you can't leave me now." but the darkness was relentless, its grip on you tightening like a noose.

the world grew quiet, the rain outside a muffled lullaby that seemed to sing you to sleep. spencer's breath grew ragged in your ear, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. the warmth of his hands was the last thing you felt as the cold claimed you, pulling you under like a relentless wave. your grip on his hand loosened, your fingers slipping away like sand through an hourglass.

the darkness was complete, the pain a distant memory as the embrace of oblivion wrapped around you. you could feel yourself floating, the weight of your body gone, the heaviness of the world no longer a burden. you were free, adrift in a sea of nothingness that was both terrifying and peaceful.

taglist: @maxsisly, @misatxox

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminalminds

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bookished · 2 years ago

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MOONLIT NIGHTS: THE CABIN CHRONICLES

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-> Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x f!reader witch

-> Summary: Geralt of Rivia faces the impossible: he is defeated by a monster and, in the middle of trying to escape after being severally wounded, finds a cabin, where a witch who knows what he needs, cures him.

-> Rating: +18

-> Word count: 2.2k

-> Warnings: smut, kinks including breeding, rough sex, neck biting until blood comes out, degradation, domination, a little bit of praise kink, dirty talking

-> Notes: i've been rewatching the witcher and reading lots of fanfics, i got so in the mood of writing a piece and i hope you enjoy it! <3

Geralt of Rivia rode through the dense, ancient Caed Dhu forest, his silver hair glistening in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves. He had been on the path for days, following rumors of a dangerous creature that plagued the nearby village.

As he ventured deeper into the woods, he couldn't shake the feeling that this particular hunt would be different.

In the heart of the treacherous Caed Dhu, Geralt of Rivia, the renowned Witcher, found himself in a dire predicament. A contract had led him deep into the ancient woods, where he faced a foe more formidable than any he had encountered before. The beast, a grotesque hybrid of wolf and wyrm, had proven to be a match for Geralt's skill and swordsmanship.

As the moon hung low in the night sky, Geralt's silver sword clanged against the creature's impenetrable scales. The battle had raged for hours, and his strength waned with every strike. Blood oozed from numerous wounds, staining his armor and leather boots. His trademark white hair clung to his sweat-soaked forehead, and his golden eyes burned with determination.

But in a moment of miscalculation, the beast lunged forward, its jaws snapping shut around Geralt's forearm. Pain seared through his body as his bones cracked, and he let out a roar of agony. With a swift, desperate maneuver, he wrenched his arm free, leaving shreds of flesh in the creature's maw.

Battered and bloodied, Geralt knew he was outmatched. With a heavy heart and aching limbs, he made a fateful decision. He turned and sprinted through the darkened forest, leaving behind the monster he could not defeat. His every step sent waves of agony through his injured arm, but he pushed himself to the limit.

As he escaped, he couldn't help but reflect on his countless battles, his victories, and his unshakable resolve. Yet, this time, survival took precedence over valor. The Caed Dhu closed in around him, a labyrinth of twisted trees and shadowy threats. Geralt, the fearless Witcher, ran for his life, vowing to return to face the beast another day, once he had healed and prepared for the inevitable rematch.

Deep within the heart of the dense and mysterious Caed Dhu, Geralt of Rivia stumbled upon an unexpected sanctuary. The cabin's solitude was a haven for a Witcher in need, a sanctuary where he could mend his battered body and prepare for the inevitable return to the treacherous wilderness.

The cabin stood as a solitary sentinel in the depths of the forest, its timeworn facade hidden beneath a canopy of thick foliage. With aching limbs and a resolve unyielding as steel, Geralt pushed open the creaking door and stepped into the dimly lit interior.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of herbs and alchemical concoctions. The flickering candlelight revealed a modest yet well-equipped witch's lair. Shelves lined with vials of potions and bundles of dried herbs stretched to the ceiling. A cauldron simmered with a mysterious brew, its aroma tinged with both magic and healing properties.

He needed rest and healing. Inside the cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. The scent of herbs and potions filled the air, a telltale sign of a fellow witch's presence. He knew he wasn't alone.

From the shadows, your hooded figure emerged, revealing the gentle features of a young witch. You had been tracking his progress and had prepared the cabin for his arrival.

He got a closer look of you, which allowed him to see the medallion of the Viper, which matched your dark green eyes, that were glistening under the candle's light. You were, definitely, one of the few Witches left after the Trials that erased most of them from the surface of Earth.

Without a word, you approached Geralt and began to help him remove his clothes, your touch gentle yet firm. As the clothing fell away, his battle-worn body was exposed, covered in cuts and bruises. He hissed in pain as you examined his wounds.

"I'll take care of you, Geralt," you murmured softly, your voice soothing. You mixed herbs and applied salves, tending to each injury with practiced care. Your fingers moved with a grace born of years of training.

Geralt watched you work, silently grateful for your presence. The pain began to ebb away as your healing magic flowed through him, knitting his flesh together.

Once the wounds were tended to, you stepped back, your eyes meeting his yellowish ones with a warmth that belied the harsh world they inhabited.

"Rest now," you said, guiding him to a nearby bed. "You've earned it."

As he lay down, his body slowly relaxing, Geralt couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the kindred spirit who had tended to his wounds. In a world filled with darkness and danger, he had found a glimmer of light and solace in your healing touch.

Also, your touch brought up a slow burning fire within him, making him feeling the need in his body to bring you closer, to lick you, to taste you. He needed to show gratefulness by giving pleasure to you after healing him with such care and knowledge... as if you knew exactly how his body reacted to each one of the remedies you were using. That made the White Wolf groan in approval.

He couldn't help but grab your wrist before you stepped back, not applying so much pressure to hurt you, but enough strength to keep you where you stood. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, making you stare back at his intense stare.

He started slowly and gently rubbing your inner wrist, where your pulse was accelerated, with his thumb calming it, you, without words, and no further movements needed.

"You're safe, Geralt. You made it home. Let me go, and you rest." You whispered, not wanting to break the calm and enchanted ambience. You don't know how you managed to sound firm, calm, steady and confident, but your tone left no doubts.

He kept staring at you, his jaw tense while the candles in the cabin lightened his skin, and you couldn't help but break eye contact and admire his body. His injured body. But, also, his fit figure.

Suddenly, Geralt pulled you into him without effort, and a groan escaped from him, low and deep. Something that made your body really happy, but you knew you couldn't risk hurting him more than he already was. You needed him fully recovered.

"If you want to keep that hand and arm, I'd suggest you let go." You had no choice but to warn him.

"I can smell you, Witch." He simply replied, his voice low and raspy, while not letting you go. You swallowed the lump in your throat, as you smelled his arousal, too. There was no possible denial in what was going around between you two, in that cabin, as the darkness of the night and the moonlit mixed with the candles surrounding you both.

With his other hand, he grabbed the Viper medallion hanging from your neck, pulling your face closer to his while keeping his firm stare at you. You could even notice the smallest of the dilation of his pupils in that position.

"After taking care of me, let me take care of your needs, witch." Geralt whispered. You knew fighting him was useless, and you couldn't deny the way your body was craving him, either. He tilted his body, not giving a flying fuck about his fresh wounds.

You stared down at his lips, and back to his eyes. He grinned a little before grabbing your medallion and pulling you close until both of your lips were a wet mess against each other, not even letting the air pass between you two.

You moaned against his lips, your groans and whines making him feel rougher and animalistic each passing second. His hands were everywhere on your body, not allowing even one millimeter of skin escape from his touch.

No previous warning, he ripped your dress from behind and continued tearing off your undergarments. You were speechless as you could only feel him. You tried touching him, but he didn��t allow that. He had you naked in front of him in a matter of seconds.

Furthermore, you looked into his eyes, waiting for his next move. "Geralt-" You were anxious for more of what he had to offer.

"You're exquisite, aren't you, witch?" He was appreciative of your exposed body in front of him, meanwhile using your condition as a pet name, which didn't annoy you at all.

He took your silence as an invitation to switch positions, grabbing you by a fistful by your long hair, having you bent over the same surface he was laying on not long ago.

Geralt directed his right hand to your pussy, moving his fingers between your folds while humming appreciatively at your wetness. The sounds filling the room, and the sights you had thanks to the little mirror that wasn't too far away on the wall in front of you, were too much to handle. It didn't take long for your thighs to begin to shake, and the White Wolf knew it too.

His hand, which was teasing you, was now wrapped around your small neck, pushing you down, taking out his digits, spreading you apart with his large girth, and slamming into your cunt.

As you wrapped your small hand around his, he tightened his hold on your neck, taking your gesture as an invitation to be rougher.

He tilted his body on top of your back, replacing the hold of his hand on your neck with his teeth burying in the delicate spot of your skin, as he kept slamming into your wetness, and you could feel his medallion swinging over you as his movement fastened, and his cock was buried deep, still pounding, into you.

"Ah, fuck, Geralt." You mumbled, not being able to keep your eyes out of the reflection in the mirror. The candles lightning his sweated skin, you underneath him as he dominated you on that unstable surface and his aura surrounding your senses.

Your hips began to move on his, as you needed that sweet relief. Geralt's bite on your neck became harder and you could feel and smell a bit of blood running down your skin, which heated up both of you even more, if possible.

His groans were louder against you, the slamming of his cock inside of you more frenetic and he dug his nails into the sides of your hips to keep you steady. He let go of your neck to press his mouth on your shoulder. "You're so fucking tight and behaving like a good girl," he moaned. "Keep milking me, witch, so I can breed you and fill you up with my cum until it oozes out."

The way he was talking to you, saying those things, had you closer to the edge. You needed to feel his cock pulsate inside of you, stretching you out and getting you full of him. Your moans were unstoppable as nonsense dripped out of your mouth.

"I wanna see those pretty thighs of yours covered with my cum." Geralt wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you in place as he circled your nipple with his thumb and index, pinching it.

“Yes, Geralt, yes." Your mind was blank, dazzled with lust and desire, almost making you forget your own name.

Your thighs began to shake, and he felt them, “Yes, witch, come all over my cock.” His encouraging, husky voice praised you. You called out the White Wolf's name, your orgasm hitting hard and uncontrollably, your head dizzy as you saw stars and lights in your vision.

You felt Geralt exploding inside of you, with a few more snaps of his hips against your ass you felt his girth tighten up, and a few more spurts of his cum filling you up as you rode off your orgasm.

"Fuck, you milked me so good, you emptied me, didn't you?" He moaned and grunted again as he felt your pussy tightening lightly on him. "What kind of witchcraft did you use on me, huh?"

He let go of your breast, not moving his position so you were still under his dominant figure while his cock rested inside of you, feeling your thighs sticky of his cum and other mix of fluids.

"Well, you loved the way I was curing you earlier and the attention I gave you, didn't you, Witcher?"

"I'm not one to turn down a healing session when I'm offered one." Geralt whispered in your ear, still not getting off you. "But what's the catch?"

You smiled, feeling chills down your spine. "The catch is, I get to pamper every inch of you and make sure you're completely healed."

"I think I can handle that kind of catch."

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