#NOW HE'S MET THE OTHER WITCHERS AND LOVES THEM TOO

[ro-is-struggling]

Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?” 

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

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

[catscraftsandcommentary]

So I had some time to think tonight at work (in between operating heavy machinery, swearing at the materials, and trying to keep the line running, fun times!) And I asked myself, "self, hypothetically, what might @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU look like in another generation or two - once people really get used to witchers being The Good Guys (TM) and helping out?"

And I was like "well, they'd probably get invited to social events - ooh! Who'd like which events best?!? What would that look like?"

Geralt, as we all know, detests anything too formal or Warlord-focused. He enjoys weddings and receptions, but his TRUE favorite is baby christenings. Seriously. Put him in a room with a tiny baby and he's happy as a clam. He'll happily growl away (or weaponize his puppy-dog eyes against) grannies, aunties, and other family members to hold the baby for as long as possible. He's also 90% of the reason that witchers are now rumored to be able to bless babies.

When Mouse and Treyse bring this new rumor to the council, everyone has to just sit. And process for a minute. Because what the ever-loving fuck?!? (Jaskier immediately writes the sweetest lullaby ever, "A Witcher's Blessing", and it is the ONLY song that Geralt ever sings in public, and only ever to babies and small children. Multiple women blame this for their immediate conceptions.)

Jaskier adores weddings and festivals of all types, and if a happy couple includes details of how they met and/or fell in love with their wedding invitation, there's at least a 50% chance that he'll show up to the wedding with a personalized love song, holy shit.

Ciri loves tourneys. Loves watching them, loves displaying in them, loves sneaking into competing in them (omg, heir, NO), loves WINNING them. She's a menace. She has various stealth coats of arms that she rotates between when she's not supposed to be competing, but her favorite is the battle goose. Obviously.

Eskel doesn't like crowds or being the center of attention, which are almost inevitable with public invitations, but he does enjoy being the +1 for his family. Several of his and their interests overlap, and even where they don't, he likes to see them enjoying themselves.

Yennifer becomes well-known as an extremely efficient - albeit terrifying - treaty negotiator. She'll talk to both sides, get a list of their must haves, deal-breakers, would-likes, and don't-wants (as well as - perhaps more importantly - the reason why each of those are on that particular list). Then she draws up a draft and viciously negotiates a compromise. She is genuinely surprised the first time that both sides thank her for her help.

Vesemir, with all his long years of teaching, loves visiting schools and seeing any sort of student performance or sporting event. Kindergarten to university, drama to music to dance recitals to track and field meets to football games to student symposiums to science contests to... He buys out bake sales and funds club field trips and donates several fortunes worth of antique knick knacks to various schools. He's invited as a guest lecturer, a commencement speaker, a competition judge, a referee.

Lambert and Aiden, at some point, discover bachelor's parties, call dibs, and never look back. People learn very quickly not to invite witchers to their stag nights unless they want the entire party to get horrifyingly drunk - but at least Lam and Aiden will make sure that everyone makes it home (or to the wedding) safely. Perhaps not soberly, or sans hangover, but definitely without major injury. (And if the bride asks nicely and the groom and friends weren't total jerks, Lambert can usually be counted on to make a hangover cure. He really is a softie at heart.)

Dragonfly and Serrit get tapped for the odd bachelorette party or ladies' birthday parties. Anything that falls under "I want to be able to drink and party with my friends without worrying about some strange guy hurting one of us." They are extremely protective and have both been drunkenly proposed to several times. (Livi finds this terribly amusing. Gweld just wants to know if he can watch.) Milena and Zofia sometimes go with them.

Milena loves going to wedding showers and baby showers, but outside Kaer Morhen, she has to stay in sight of Lambert or one of his brothers. Lambert's rule. (She got KIDNAPPED, okay? He's allowed to worry!) Usually she'll take Geralt (there might be babies! He's excellent protection!) or Eskel (he's very quiet and has excellent manners, and his signs are impossible to fight) for the more, ah, female-heavy events. If anyone asks, they're her brother-in-law and genuinely like spending time around kids. And very, very married.

#the witcher #accidental warlord au #inexplicifics

[mywrittings]

destiny / geralt of rivia

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Staying at Kaer Morhen was an unexpected event in your life. After getting a room assigned you realize the room actually belongs to someone whom you'd often see by chance... or because of destiny?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.5k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 18+ ONLY! dirty talk, kissing, pussy eating, handjob, riding him, him fucking you... basically smut

a/n: hello everyone! I have been writing this for a while now but I have finally finished it! This story has a lot more dialogue and I hope you don't mind that. Also for anyone that is still waiting for my next chapter of lust series, it's coming! I am still in the process of writing it. Anyways hope you like reading this one!

Vesemir had called up on you to come stay at the Kaer Morhen for a while. Since it was winter time most of the witchers returned to this place to refuel and relax, your job was to keep the order and help with making elixirs. It was a sudden decision from Vesemir, an emergency to be precise. With many more blood hungry monsters, he wanted to make sure that all the right elixirs would be ready by the time winter is over, so naturally you were the best mage that knew how to make them without needing any recipes.

He showed you to your room where you would be staying for the next upcoming weeks. All the rooms at this place seemed the same but for some reason this one was way bigger than the rest. It had a lovely window that overlooked the training station outside, a large bed that looked comfortable, a fireplace to keep you warm and a small wardrobe. It almost felt like this room did not belong to Kaer Morhen but rather an inn.

‘’Get some rest, tomorrow I’ll tell you what you’ll need to do.’’ Vesemir said his goodbyes to you as he closed the door behind him

You had a long journey ahead of you today as you also made some stops in between, hence why your muscles were aching. You were desperate for a bath but weren’t so sure where you could find one. Also since it was winter outside, the weather completely changed. Snow took over the entire property, the leaves fell off the trees and the once green grass was covered in its entirety.

Stepping out of the room you walked along the many hallways that lead to different rooms while others lead to other rooms that had equipment. With each door you opened you kept getting more and more upset - there was nothing. All there was, was just a bunch of random stuff that didn’t really have a place or a pile of junk. 

Feeling even more devastated than before you decided to return back to your room. The night by now has fallen, as the lamps lit up the place, making it feel more cozy. The chatter coming from downstairs was still up and about. After all it was the first day, when most witchers returned to their home, so it was only fitting for them to catch up with one another. 

As you open the door to your room you suddenly scream out loud, while covering your eyes.

‘’What are you doing in my room?!’’ you exclaim at the figure that was standing by the bed, with their shirt off

‘’Your room? This is my-...’’ and in that moment you recognize his voice as he does yours

‘’Geralt?’’ you put your hands down but still keep your eyes closed shut

‘’What on earth are you doing here?’’ Geralt asks as you hear him make a step

When it comes to Geralt, you very well knew who he was. The greatest witcher of all times. The best hunter for monsters. Most of the time alone or accompanied by his friend Roach. He always did what he had to do and he did it perfectly.

But when it comes to you two, often your destinies would collide with one another and whenever you’d see each other, there would be tension between you too. You've always thought you did something to him since he gave you the strangest look when you first met. As a result, you automatically did the same to him.

‘’Just put on a shirt first!’’ you extend your arms out, as a way to prevent him for coming further even though he only made a step to turn to you

‘’Why would I? You are in my room, you barged in here.’’ he argues back and you hear the shirt shuffling in his hands

‘’Excuse me?,’’ you let your hands down ‘’Vesemir had told me this was my room while I’m staying here.’’ you point to the ground as you hear Geralt snicker

‘’Staying? Are you staying here?’’

‘’Yes? Did you not see my stuff I put in the wardrobe?’’ your eyes were still closed shut as you hear the door of the closet creak open

‘’Why are you here?’’ he asks, closing the wardrobe ‘’And also you can open your eyes, it’s not like I had my-...’’

‘’Okay!’’ you squeal quickly, opening your eyes to see Geralt wearing a black linen shirt that was tucked in his pants

‘’Do you mind leaving now?’’ you gesture to the door

‘’No? It’s my room.’’ 

You really did not have the time to argue with him but you did not wish to give up the room under any circumstances. If this was someone else asking for their room you’d give in already but since it was Geralt that was off limits.

‘’Geralt, I do not care if this was your room it’s mine now.’’ you point to yourself 

Geralt huffs in annoyance, throwing his head back as his hands were on his hips. You now understood why this bedroom was his. He was the best witcher out there so I guess it was only fair to give him best of the best, as he caught many monsters and dealt with different quests. But you knew how other rooms there were. Most had a small bed with no fireplace and there were even rats around as nobody really took care of that. 

‘’Then we share it.’’ he suggests and your eyes open wide

‘’Share it?’’ you were in disbelief that he even said that

‘’I’m afraid all the other rooms are occupied.’’ as he says that you peek your head out to the hallway and notice that sure indeed all the rooms were full as light came from each of them under the door

When the winter comes around all the witchers return back to this place to have some rest as there aren’t many monsters at this time. And when they do return this place is full of chatter, laughter and them sharing stories among one another. But you did not understand why Vesemir gave you this room if he knew it was Geralts.

‘’Can’t you sleep somewhere else? You could share a room with another witcher?’’ you look back at him as he gestures ‘no’ with his head and that’s when you thought that maybe it was unfair of you to just kick him out of his room that he earned fighting along many different creatures. However you were still going to stay in this room no matter what.

‘’Fine but what about the bed?’’ 

‘’I’ll take the floor.’’ he answers as he rushes past you out of the room

You watch him leave unsure as to where he was headed but in the meantime you decide to get ready for the bed. You took the duvet off and quickly jumped in, tucking yourself in afraid he was going to change his mind.  

Soon Geralt was back in the room with a pillow, a duvet and a fluffy carpet. He closes the door before throwing everything he held on the ground. The carpet he placed on the floor which you realized it was for him to lay down but given the fact he was tall and bulky, the carpet practically disappeared underneath him. You watch him fiddle with the pillow and the duvet, tossing it one way and another, he was getting frustrated. 

‘’Geralt.’’ you call to him and at first he doesn’t acknowledge your voice

‘’Geralt.’’ this time you said it louder and finally grab his attention

He whips his head and pierces his eyes into yours. You knew this wasn’t a way for him to sleep, especially because you did not know how long you were going to stay here. It was weird as you had some pity for him but then despised him, still you knew how hard they work and how desperately they need their sleep to recharge for the next season.

‘’We can share the bed.’’ you offer as you scoot over to one side and he just looks at you confused

‘’Just a few minutes ago you didn’t wish to share a room with me and now you want to share the bed?’’ 

‘’I do not have time to bicker, take this side of the bed or have fun sleeping on the creaky wooden floor.’’ you turn your back to him, taking half of the duvet covering your body in it

For a second there it was quiet, there wasn’t a single sound to be heard until the floor slowly creaked from behind you. A ‘Hmm’ left Geralt’s mouth before you felt the bed dip, the weight of the bed shifts as the other part of the duvet is being thrown to you. 

‘’I got mine.’’ he shortly says as you hear his covers shuffling before he settles in the comfort of the bed

The setting was strange, sharing a bad with someone you did not like. Every little move he would make with his body the bed would creak but that didn’t bother you as the weight of your eyes took over you and you fell asleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night you began tossing and turning as you were starting to get cold. The fire in the fireplace burnt out and the room suddenly changed temperatures. The duvet wasn’t doing you any justice as well at that point. Your body was freezing underneath it and because of that you were unable to sleep even though you were exhausted. But you weren’t the only one that couldn’t shut their eyes.

‘’When do you think you’ll stop?’’ you hear Geralt’s raspy voice

‘’When I get warm.’’ you didn’t even turn around to him, instead just mumble that under your breath. You wanted to start the fire in the fireplace but you didn’t have the will to get up and get even colder so instead you decided to shut your eyes and tried not to think about the coldness and eventually the sleep took over you.

Some point a little later in the night you had to switch sides and you had completely forgotten that you were sharing a bed with Geralt. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes slowly to find his yellow golden gaze staring at you. He didn’t say anything once the two of you met each other's gazes and suddenly the only thing you could hear in the room was you two breathing.

‘’Why are you looking at me?’’ you whisper, as your eyes were half open now, holding onto the duvet in your hands

‘’You are the total opposite when you sleep.’’ he remarks in his low voice

‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’You don’t say much. You’re quiet.’’ Geralt said while you narrow your eyebrows at him

‘’Fuck you.’’ you lift your head off the pillow as you say that, Geralt just snickers back at you

‘’Such pretty lips saying all that filth.’’ he all of the sudden says and you widen your eyes at him. His were fully focused on you now, wavering around your eyes to your lips. You could feel your heart beating faster and faster and you weren’t sure why you were having these thoughts.

‘’Huh?’’ 

Geralt quickly closes the distance and places his lips on yours. It was such a gentle kiss, without any strong pressure. He let his lips remain on top of yours for a few seconds whilst you closed your eyes, unsure how to respond. 

His lips leave yours before he returns, significantly stronger this time as he removes his hand from beneath the covers and softly places his thumb beneath your chin. You now respond by spreading your lips as he leans in and you kiss him back.

He moves himself closer to you as his hand begins traveling down from your face to the back of your head before pausing at your lower back. You too took your hands from beneath the covers and delicately touched his face with your fingertips. You could feel his rough skin along with his stubble he had not shaved. His hair tickled at your skin once he deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue in your mouth evoking a moan out of you. His tongue danced with yours, every now and then he’d pull away just to kiss you again before going back in to bite on your bottom lip, everything was becoming more heated.

‘’Geralt…’’ 

‘’Yes?’’

‘’What are we doing?’’ you confusingly ask once you two stopped kissing

‘’Kissing each other.’’ he replies, as his thumb traced your lips

‘’But I hate you.’’

‘’Oh you do? Show me how much you hate me then.’’ he says quietly, his eyes were yearning for more you and the desire inside of you, it was like a spark that was waiting for a while before it ignited, that’s when you swiftly remove the duvet and straddle him

Your legs were on the side of him and he immediately put his hands on your hips. But first he assists you in removing  your dress as you help him get rid of his linen shirt. Your breathing hitched once you felt something hard underneath you, poking at you but it felt good.  You lower yourself to him, just inches away from his lips hovering over.

‘’Kiss me.’’ he orders before you close the gap and kiss him hard. Geralt’s hands came back at your hips, aiding you to move and you felt your pussy getting increasingly wetter and wetter each time you’d feel his cock twitch underneath you

"For someone that was visibly annoyed by me, your hard cock is saying otherwise." you add in between kisses.

That’s when he backs up and within seconds he moves you away from himself. He gets out of bed but turns around to face you, his knees slamming into the bed frame. His massive cock jumps out as he quickly takes his pants down. As you were on your knees, staring up at him, he drew you closer and grips your neck.

‘’Open your mouth.’’ he urges and you don’t even think twice because you wanted him, you needed to taste him in your mouth and you didn’t care about anything else

You do as he says and he shoves his cock in your mouth, while keeping his hand on your neck.

‘’That’s more like it you fucking cunt. Got you all quiet now huh?’’ his dirty talk had your pussy throbbing and you wanted so badly to touch yourself but Geralt had a different idea

‘’Put your hands behind your back.’’ he instructs, eyes watching you as you keep taking him in your mouth

Geralt began moving his hips back and forth, as you bobbed your head to the pace he was instructing. Your eyes were looking directly at him as he threw his head back once he placed his hand to the top of your head. 

‘’You take this cock so fucking good,’’ he growls as he takes his dick out of your mouth ‘’stick your tounge out.’’ you obey him as he slaps his dick on your tongue, repeatedly before putting it back in your mouth

He was fucking your mouth, his head went back once he pushed it all the way and that caught you off guard. Your entire body was in a state of euphoria, that feeling of him completely within your mouth was driving you mad. You loved his taste.

‘’Fuck, that feels so good.’’ he purrs as he takes his cock out and a trail of saliva comes out of your mouth. Your lips were red, swollen from how much he pounded his dick in your mouth.

His face lowers to you and he crushes his lips on yours while making sounds. He tugs and licks at your lips, his hand resting on your face and you couldn’t keep your hands away from him. You had to touch him. So you tug at his hair as your other hand pulls him closer, causing him to collapse on top of you. He didn’t seem to mind that as he began slowly grinding on your pussy.

‘’Look how fucking wet you are cunt.’’ he says mid between kissing you as you feel his hard cock, grazing over your wet pussy. Both of your hands were now in his hair, his were at the either side of your body, holding himself up as his cock was drenching in your juices.

‘’Geralt…’’ you mutter his name 

‘’Mmm, yes princess?’’ you feel his finger on your pussy and you jolt in your place

‘’What did you want hm?’’ he asks, his voice so sinful, wishing you to have more of him but you couldn’t make up any words. It was difficult to talk while he was playing with you, a cocky expression on his face knowing he had every inch of you he desired.

‘’You need to tell me princess, so I know what I need to do to make you feel good.’’ he leaves a trail of wet kisses along your jawline as your eyes roll back from the feeling

‘’I…I want your…’’ you gulp and lick your lips as Geralt watches you with hungry eyes ‘’I want your mouth on my pussy.’’ you finally croak out and he kisses your lips before going down to your legs.

‘’You want me to lick your pussy?’’ he opens your legs further apart, getting access to your exposed dripping cunt. His arms wrap around your legs holding you in place before dipping his head and licking a strip up your pussy.

‘’Like this?’’

You nod as he snickers and goes back in, flicking his tongue repeatedly, up and down in any direction he could think off. His tongue was velvety making you fill up with pleasure. He looked so handsome this way, the window from the roof was shining just enough on him, outlining his back and arm muscles. His hair was falling at his face and his eyes would occasionally peek up at you.

As you glance further down his body you could see his hard cock, jerking every time you’d moan or call his name. Just thinking about him being inside you made your body melt, you felt tingles from your spine traveling throughout your body. 

Geralt seemed to take notice of your eyes as he smiled in your pussy ‘’Do you want something else, I can give it to you.’’ he removes his tongue off of your cunt and retrieves his body back to yours, as he licks his fingers before locking his lips back to yours. 

‘’Yes.’’ you whisper, unable to control yourself

‘’Do you want my cock?’’ he says as he glances down and reaches for his cock, taunting you with his tip at your pussy

‘’Yes.’’ you were pleading by this point now

‘’Do you want me to fuck you?’’ 

You bit at your lower lip, he was driving you insane. His tip alone was enough to make your brain dizzy, let alone his deep voice, which sent shivers down your body every time he talked to you dirty.

Finally you nod and he pulls you closer to him as he enters you, slowly at first, filling your insides. He was big, you could feel every bit of him, stretching out your walls. You gasp out loud, your back arching, clutching at the sheets as Geralt muffles your sounds by kissing you. 

‘’Shit. Such a tight little pussy huh?’’ he asks, as he moves in and out of you. You were clenching around him, he knew where to find the right spot, your moans were the response to his movements.

The room was filled with sweat, moans and Geralt’s grunts as he began moving faster. He leaves your lips and grabs at your legs, placing them around himself as he was on his knees. As he’s holding at your legs, he keeps going faster and faster. His body was glistening with his sweat, his perfect v-line flowing down to his cock, while he pummeled into you, flinging his head back.

You were still grasping at the sheets, closing your eyes in between, nobody has ever made you feel this good. You could feel your pussy pulsing from his cock around your walls, his cock fit perfectly in you.

‘’Come here.’’ he suddenly says as he pulls you to himself and smother’s your face with his lips. He was kissing you all over your face, his tongue was licking at your cheeks, it’s like he wanted to devour you from head to toe - you tasted sweet to him.

Geralt then lays down on the bed and has your back facing him. He helps you as he eases you onto cock,holding you and fucking you again. Your hands were trying to support you but because of him you didn’t need to do so. You didn’t mind this position, the only issue is that you couldn’t see him and the sight of him in this state made you wet all over again.

He leans you back into him, your back now colliding with his chest as his head pops across your left side, where he turns your head and kisses your lips. His lips were hot, as he sucked and pulled at them. His hand slithers down your body to your pussy. You had no idea it would make you feel even better, but it did. He began circling around it, driving you insane.

‘’Geralt…fuck.’’ you moan unable to control yourself

‘’Only I can fuck this pussy, you understand?’’ 

‘’Mhm…’’ 

‘’Say it.’’ he demands as he kisses you again

‘’Only you can fuck this pussy Geralt.’��� you repeat and he smiles into the kiss

‘’Make me cum with this pussy.’’ he says as you squeeze your pussy, knowing it would drive him over the edge and you were right

‘’Cum with me.’’ he lastly says before you feel his heart beating faster

Geralt’s hand is continuing playing with your pussy as you feel him twitch inside of you. His cock was pulsating as you felt yourself getting filled with his warm cum. His lips were pressed to yours, he was groaning in your mouth, you moaning back into his. Both of your bodies went to a new state. Your vision went black once you reached your high and the sensation overtook your entire body. 

‘’Fuck.’’ you cry out, biting your lip while arching your back

His heavy breathing slowly came at ease but your body was still buzzing from the orgasm he just gave you.

‘’You’re shaking.’’ Geralt says as he takes his cock out and quickly places you at his side, wrapping your body with the duvet. He pulls you close to himself, wrapping his arms around your frame to keep you secure and in place.

‘’Geralt, did we really just fuck?’’ you mumble and feel his hands caress your back

‘’We did,’’ he takes a moment to look at you ‘’do you regret it?’’ he asks, his eyes speaking to you

‘’No, I don’t. Do you?’’

‘’No. I always wanted to be inside you.’’ 

You playfully bump your head onto his chest and giggle as you see a smile on his face as well. He removes a strand of your hair away from your face and places a soft kiss on your lips.

‘’So all you needed was to fuck me and suddenly you don’t hate me anymore?’’ you say, as you trace the features on his nose

‘’The only thing I hated was that this pussy wasn’t mine. Until today.’’ his hand moves to your ass where he slaps it and right after squeezes it

‘’When did I say it was yours?’’ you joke but he slaps your ass again making you jump in your place

‘’This pussy is mine. Only mine.’’ he kisses your nose before nuzzling you back into him rocking you with his body

It felt so good laying with him like this, the warmth wrapping around you and hearing his breathing was the perfect combination to make you fall asleep but not before he said ‘’Our destinies always seem to be colliding Y/n.’’ that made you think of all the other times you had seen him. Sometimes you’d see him in random places, unturned areas yet and he’d be there. Each time you’d see one another, each time your eyes would be different. But it never came to your head that this all was in fact destiny. It never came to you that the feeling you had was true - you wanted him to be yours.

‘’You are right. Maybe we belong to one another after all.’’  you reply and his hands came to your face, lifting it up

‘’Not maybe, rather yes, we do belong to one another.’’ the sides of his mouth lift upwards and he leans in kissing you but with the biggest passion yet

“I never hated you.” he suddenly says as he keeps his hands around you and takes his eyes up the window on the roof “I wanted you, each time I’d see you I felt something in me, it was pulling me in to you.” he licks his lips before continuing ''But I always thought to myself 'Why would someone like her wish to be with someone like me'.” he looks back at you, his eyes were heavy and sleepy

''Someone like you?'' you scoff and sit up ''Do you know how strong and amazing you are Geralt? You are the most powerful witcher out there,'' you point to the window ''there is no one that could beat you.''

Geralt takes your hands in his lap and sits up with you ''That's all I am Y/n. I kill monsters and get their blood all over me. I reek of their smell.''

''You are protecting us. Protecting the people. Without you, this world would have eaten us by now.'' you boop his nose with your finger and he grabs your hand, placing it himself on the side of his face and the weight of his head falls into your hands

''You are such an extrodinary woman Y/n. I'm sorry if I was...''

''Grumpy? Annoying?'' you cut him off and snicker

''Yes. I was trying to push you away for my own being which was a very dumb decision...'' he wavers off, he was troubled by this

''I mean I did the same to you, only you did it first to me and then I did it and then I thought 'what did I do wrong' because you were always so mad when you'd see me and I-...'' Geralt stops you from talking as he smashes his lips onto yours, breathing in your scent

''You're mine Y/n. That's all that matters to me now. I have you.''

#geralt x reader #geralt x you #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #geralt smut #geralt imagine #geralt rivia x reader #geralt x rivia smut #the witcher smut #the witcher x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #the witcher x reader

[irrlicht-writes]

dandelions

“If ever I’d be reborn, I’d like to be a flower,” the bard says, while gently sitting in a field, picking flowers for no reason really. Geralt sits not too far from him, keeping an eye on Roach so that she might not eat too many flowers and sour her stomach.

“Hm,” the Witcher replies, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred, “as a flower, I could waive in the wind, dance under the sun and sing of worlds yet to come.”

“You sing plenty now,” the Witcher reminds him, “why not sing of those worlds now?”

The bard laughs, and it’s a clear, bright sound, and it engulfs the entire valley.

“If I sang of those worlds now, darling Witcher,” he plucks another flower, deep violet, and adds it to his ever-growing bouquet, “they would all tell me to shut up and sing the coin song again.”

“We both hate the coin song.”

“Indeed we do! It’s the price of fame, although I’d wish they would have forgotten it by now. I haven’t even sung it in ages! I’ve written catchier refrains.”

The Witcher snorts. “You have? I must have missed them.”

The bard throws some flowers in the Witcher’s general direction but as flowers do, they all fall to the ground before ever hitting their target. “I am wounded,” the Witcher says tonelessly, for nothing but mocking purposes. The bard huffs and turns his attention back to his flowers.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard says again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies again, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred yet again, “as a flower, they would not hear me sing at all. But if they could hear me on the wind, they would love me all the more.”

“They love you plenty now, hearing you sing already.”

The bard laughs again, like the Witcher does not understand.

“No, my love, they do not. Oh they love me, yes, my prancing and my singing, and my flirting, and my twirling, but me, they love not. If I were not to sing, not to prance, not to flirt, not to twirl, not to joy their hearts for coin – they would take no interest in me. Another washed up wanderer on the road, they’d say! Throw him some mouldy bread and hope he brings no plague with him!”

“I’ve not met a many washed up wanderers brave enough to follow me into the fray.”

The bard smiles then, a whispered little thing the Witcher almost did not see. Roach wanders around, sniffing the different flowers and yet, she had eaten not a single one of them.

A pleasant silence befalls them in the valley, as the bard continues to pick more flowers – who he is picking them for, the Witcher does not know. The bard does things sometimes that make no sense, because he wants to. The Witcher has learned to accept this, and this is a pleasant thing to do, a pleasant place to rest.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard starts again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies once more, because it is tradition now, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues – as per tradition – undeterred, “as a flower, mayhap a dandelion, I could be carried by the wind, being carried to where I need to go.”

“You travel plenty now,” the Witcher says, “no need to be carried by the wind.”

“That might be true, dear heart, and yet! How limited are we, bound to the ground beneath our feet, the saddle of a horse? The wind! The wind knows no limit, crescending into a storm. And! Darling Witcher, how would we know where we’re needed? We can only travel so far, see so many places. What if we’d be needed in the other direction? How would we know?!”

“All we can do is move forwards, bard. We do our best where we can.”

The bard plucks his last flower and turns to the Witcher. In his arms, he holds all the flowers he picked – colourful and pretty, a plenty a piece. In his hand, he holds a dandelion, with its seed ready to be carried away.

“That we do, my love. That we do.”

He looks at the dandelion in his hand, and the wind plays gently with his hair.

Quietly, he blows and the dandelion seeds get picked up by the wind.

The Witcher and the Bard look after them until they are out of sight.

Then, they move on to the next town, and the bard plays music in the tavern. He prances, and sings, and flirts, and twirls, and they love him.

Many, many years later, Geralt comes across a field of flowers.

In it sits a boy, picking flowers.

He notices Geralt from a distance, and looks up, waves, and grins brightly like the sun. He wears a flower crown made of buttercups and dandelions.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard whispers quietly, “I’d like to be a flower.”

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #the witcher jaskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #fluff #geraskier #soft #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #irrlicht writes

[mjolnir-76]

Geralt of Rivia X Male!Elf!Reader

genre: fluff

words: 1922

summary: Geralt and Ciri come across someone on their trip to kaer morhen. after a couple of encounters, geralt is infatuated already.

you were minding your business, that's how you were roped into this mess. how you got involved with the white wolf. you lived life as a traveller, hopping from village to village. it's the best you could do as an elf, you loved the nature anyway. but your other interests such as alchemy are tricker to fund out in the wild so you do have a permanent home in a small village in the outskirts of kaedwen. you were in a forest on the other side of the country, you had a camp set up where you'd been living for a couple of weeks. no one came through these woods, that was until a white haired witcher and a young girl did. you noticed them on one of your hunts, perched in a tree you aimed your bow at them. they were getting scarily close to your camp, you didn't fancy being found and captured. you couldn't kill him however, that girl would be left alone. you decided to fire a warning shot, to let them know they weren't alone so they leave. you aim down the shaft of your arrow before shooting it at one of his bags on their horse. you made sure not to use too much pressure so you didn't pierce the horse too. they both flick their heads to the sound, the witcher immediately looking in your direction only to be met with your fleeing figure. geralt grits his teeth, looking back at the arrow, recognising it as the same type he's seen lodged in trees nearby. "stay here" he mutters to ciri as he draws his sword and follows you.

he tracks your footsteps in the snow until they suddenly disappear. he glances out at the forest ahead, trying to see if he can catch a glimpse of the perpetrator. meanwhile you stand right behind him, looking over his shoulder. he's so focussed he doesn't even notice your heartbeat, "what are you looking at?" you ask, you knew it was a risk but you couldn't help it, your playful nature shining through. he quickly whips around and swipes at you with his sword but you anticipate it, jumping backwards. you dodge every attack, eventually you use your bow, using it to trap his hand and pry his sword from his hand. you grab it, him now defenceless, you give it a testing swing. "try again next time witcher" you say and leave, retreating to your camp.

the night falls and you still search for some food, something to kill when you find a deer. you kill it easily, you'd eat for a while. but then you remember how you took the witchers sword, sure he can cope without it, but you felt bad. what if they hadn't found any dinner that night? that poor girl. you decide to take it to them, you may be an elven bandit but you weren't a heathen. you knew where their camp was anyways . you approach silently, carrying the dead deer across your shoulders. you notice geralt sat by the fire, keeping watch no doubt, not very well you thought. you make your plan, shooting and arrow into the distance he looks at so he's distracted. he stands up to investigate, you use this to chuck the deer down, stabbing his sword through it. you climb the tree again and watch as he turns back, seeing the deer and his sword. he furrows his brows, searching his surroundings hastily. when he can't find you, he turns to the deer, pulling out his sword. he smiles slightly, beginning to prepare the deer.

you got back to your camp, still hungry, you'd go hunting the next day. you didn't expect to see the witcher again, you assumed he'd move one to his destination now, but it seems his path still was directed at your camp.

you had been tracking what looked like hare maybe, when you eventually found it sniffing about. you hid nearby, aiming your bow at it. a small target would be significantly harder but nothing for you. you get ready to shoot when a crunch scares it away. you quickly spin to where the noise came from to see the witcher stood with his hands up. you keep your bow pointed at him. geralt can now see your eyes, more than he saw before atleast. you're in a stand off, neither one talking. "you just cost me dinner, you prick" you say defensively. geralt smirks, letting out a deep chuckle. "i'm here to give you dinner" he says, showing that in one hand he had some of the deer wrapped in cloth for you. "why're you offering me food while i'm pointing a bow at you" you ask, wanting to seem hostile. "because, i know you won't shoot" he says, "oh really?" you reply, tightening your grip on the bow, "try me" you say, "alright" he responds, taking a step forwards, calling your bluff. "at first i thought you were just a bad shot, but then you gave us that deer. it had been shot directly through the eye which means you're a good shot, you aimed to miss yesterday. you're not a threat, you simply want us to leave" he explains, "i could be a threat" you still try to convince him, "i don't believe you are" he replies giving you a smirk. you sigh and put your bow down. slinging it over your body, "why won't you leave then" you ask, beginning to search for the hare again, or something bigger. he follows diligently, "we're passing through, but we need a break every now and again" he explains. "why are you still looking for a meal? i have this for you" he says, you stop and look at him, your whole face isn't obstructed anymore, he can see clearly you're an attractive man, even with a cloak covering your hair. "you might have poisoned it" you shrug, "why would i do that" he asked like you were being ridiculous. you shrug. he takes a bite out of it to show you, "come on" he urges, you give in and take it, eating the meat off the bone. "what are you doing out here? you hunt monsters?" he asks, you scoff, "i'm no monster hunter. i'm trying to live" you say, he furrows his brows, "you live out here?" he asks, "well no, i have a house but it's ages away and i can't stay there forever" you say, not even thinking of the implications of your words. "why?" he asks, you glance around nervously, "it doesn't matter" you say, chucking the bone on the floor and tugging your bow off your back, "enjoy your trip and farewell" you say before trying to run off, geralt catches your arm, his grip is solid but gentle. you share a moment, eyes locked as he tries to work out the emotion trapped in yours when you shimmy out of his hold and dash off into thin air  "hey- wait!" geralt tries to get you back but you're gone.

he expects not to see you again as he and ciri approach kaer morhen, but it turns out they find your camp. they approach teo small tents and campfire, looking around for you. "seems we've found our little friends camp" geralt says. he notices your belongings, taking note that they look to be elven crafted. he ponders where you got them from when they hear footsteps nearby. geralt ushers ciri to hide behind a bush and they both watch as you hurriedly rush in with a big smile. you hop down onto a log near the fire and pull off the covering to one of the tents to show a complex system of pipes and vials, looking to be a potion set. you pull out some sort of root from your pocket, crushing it into the biggest vial and watching it bubble. just then, you pull down your cloak and geralt finally gets the full picture. he's entranced by your looks, even more so when he notices your pointed ears. "he's an elf" ciri mutters, "that's why he can't live in his house forever" geralt says back to her. "we have to bring him to kaer morhen geralt. he deserves a proper home" ciri whispers to him. geralt doesn't respond, thinking about her statement. they watch as you mumble a couple words in elder, geralt can't help but scan over the intricate braids in your hair, the way it the way it frames your face perfectly. he decides he agrees with ciri, something tells him you're trustworthy, that you're the one who needs help with trust. who needs someone to trust. and he feels a pull to be that person. he slowly steps out of the bush and approaches you. you hear his footsteps and look up, grabbing your bow once again and aiming it at him. you then realise that your cloak hood is down, "fuck" you mutter, quickly tugging it over your head. "there's no need for that" he says to you and you squint at him. "i want you to come with me on our journey, stay with us at our destination" he says and you don't drop the bow. "why should i trust you? how do i know you're not just going to drop me off at the town centre to be sold for 2 orens?" you say angrily. "because he's better than that" the girl steps out, "and i wouldn't let him" she says, you move your bow to her and back to him, going between the two. "i'm a witcher, i understand your wariness-" you cut him off, "no you don't!" you shout. "we only want to help" the girl says after a moment. geralt takes a couple of steps forward, slowly and you quickly turn the bow to him. he still advances however, "we only want to help" he reiterates, gently moving the bow down, you let him. he's looking deep into your eyes and you only see sincerity. you put the bow down, putting the arrow back in your quiver. you move to the camp, stamping out the fire and you kick over the alchemy set. you grab your bed set and bag that are already packed just incase you needed to make a speedy get away. finally you grab your violin, approaching the two again, "let's go" you say and they both smile at you. "thank you for trusting us" geralt says, stepping closer and holding your shoulder, "not fully" you respond with a small smile, pushing geralts chest so he steps back, "hm" he responds with a smirk. "so what's your name?" ciri asks as she walks with you, "y/n" you respond, she nods "i'm ciri and he's geralt" she says and you nod too. "so where are we going?" you ask, "kaer morhen, the witcher home base you could say" geralt responds. you wander for a while when you all start to get hungry. "do we have any of the deer left?" ciri asks and geralt shakes his head. "one second" you say and you clear your throat. you cup your hands around your mouth and make a loud bird call. it causes the birds to flutter out a nearby tree. you quickly whip out an arrow and shoot one of the birds, grabbing another rapidly and shooting another before you shoot the third and last one. you grab the 3 birds and lift them up to the group, "dinner?"

#the witcher #original character #geralt x male reader #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #male reader #fluff #geralt fluff #geralt fanfic #cirilla of cintra #the witcher games #tv show geralt #henry cavil x male reader #henry cavil x y/n #henry cavil x reader #henry cavill #geralt x you #geralt x y/n

[artistsfuneral]

part 9

Jaskier greets Geralt with the brightest, warmest smile, the one smile that's reserved for Geralt only because it used to make him blush so lovely. Geralt doesn't blush now, but his eyes grow a bit wider, he sits up a bit straighter and Jaskier knows there's still hope left. It's still Geralt. Even after all this time it's Geralt.

"You're Geralt of Rivia, right? Your reputation kind of precedes you." Before his eyebrows can even fully knit together in a frown, Jaskier is already talking again. "Would you like to play Gwent? I heard you're always up for a game," he laughs and his heart flutters a bit when he notices Geralt visibly relax back into his seat. "Sure, have a seat," is the calm and collected answer he recieves, but the bard can see the tiniest hint of a smile in the corner of Geralt's lips as the witcher reaches for his pack.

"I'd like to apologize in advance," Jaskier grins sheepishly as he pulls out his own deck and sits down, "I hardly have any good cards so it might be a quick game, but I was told I'm a decent player."

Geralt huffs out a breath that would have been a chuckle if he wasn't in a tavern full of strangers, sitting across from a man he has never met before. Which reminds him- "The name's Jaskier, by the way. It's lovely to finally get to meet you." Geralt raises an eyebrow and places a card. Jaskier frowns and wishes for his future deck of cards, the one Geralt helped him to collect until it was perfect. The two of them spent countless nights across from each other, playing Gwent again and again until they had to get new decks because they knew each other's strategies too well.

"Most people wouldn't agree with you," the witcher says and Jaskier scoffs at him without thinking too much about it. "Most people are stupid." Geralt stills for a moment and Jaskier can feel golden eyes piercing him, but he can't seem to mind. He does make a face though, before placing his cards, because there's absolutely no way he will win this game and what on earth is he going to do after that? Before having raised Ciri, Geralt was hardly known for his patience towards strangers and well-

"You're correct," Geralt says as Jaskier loses with his next move,

@fingons-rad-harp @sinfulpetgirlrd @wren-of-the-woods @basilikum7 @eveljerome @this-is-not-a-slow-burn @araglas1989 @alaskawho @cinary @swan--writes @mirrorthoughts @chaoticfandomthot @sonatabee

#the witcher #geraskier #artistsfuneral about the witcher #witcher #geralt #jaskier #geralt of rivia

[dapandapod]

oh my god, I need this in my life ;____; Pairing is dealer's choice.

36. unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping

Look. I kinda missed the mark here, in a sense, as did I miss the timely window to write/reply.... xD anyway here it is? some Geraskier, a healthy dose of pining, and a lot of semi-platonic cuddling! Thank you Ebs my love for beta-reading! And I hope you like it, Kuri-darlin! Please enjoy <3 On Ao3 here!

It starts, as it often does between the two of them, with a deep bottle of spirit and a great idea. Usually, it’s one of Jaskier’s, but this time neither of them will claim the responsibility.

Skinnydipping is a much better plan in summer temperatures, rather than in late spring. Cold water from the icy mountains is still trickling down in rivers and finding itself in the lake they are now rushing out of, bare as the day they were born.

Jaskier isn’t shrieking, he never is, he is just flexing his vocal chords. Geralt is telling him that he is indeed shrieking, and that he should stop before it gets shrill enough to call the local dogs over.

Punching Geralt’s chest is very different when he is not wearing any clothes, skin cool and slippery, and Jaskier loses himself for a moment.

This is where it all begins, in a sense.

They are both rather lost, directionless in the free way of the traveling pair they are, but still trying to make out what path is theirs, and if what they will find at the end of the road will please them.

Geralt grasps Jaskier’s hand, and holds it to his chest. If asked, he will say he is clearly making sure Jaskier won’t be able to punch him again, but if you ask Jaskier, the only thing he will remember is firm fingers around his wrist, chest hair rough against his knuckles.

When Jaskier does not immediately protest, just stares at their hands with wide eyes, Geralt declares the bard too drunk, and he pulls Jaskier with him towards land by the hand.

Getting dressed one handed is… even more complicated while drunk, but the witcher does not let go of the bard, and leads him all the way to their rooms. They technically have their own rooms, but somehow they both end up in Jaskier’s room, only half way into the bed.

Later, Geralt remembers waking up with Jaskier’s fingers laced through his, and turns to look at his face lax in sleep, pressed against the mattress.

It happens again, of course it does. This time they are between inns, with winter and his bad timing stealing one last cold night before spring broke through properly.

They have found alright shelter, compromising the comfort of the open forest floor for keeping warm, snuck in the crack of a rock formation.

The fire is doing wonders, and despite the smoke stinging their eyes, Jaskier is looking decidedly snuggly with the fire behind him outlining his figure.

Their bedrolls are side by side, and Jaskier has grabbed onto Geralt’s hand, marveling over… well, marveling in general actually.

This time there is no alcohol between them, just a sense of peace and amusement, and Geralt watches Jaskier trace each digit, using both hands to look this way and that.

His knuckles are getting a great deal of attention, as is his thumb and palm. While he does it, Jaskier tells a story about his mother and a fortune teller that probably was a sham, but there once was this palm reader he met in Novigrad, and did you know that the placing or lack of calluses really tells a lot about you as a person?

Geralt listens with a smile, and snarks at the obvious holes in the storytelling when Jaskier is making too much up again, and, between one heartbeat and the next, Jaskier’s eyes droop shut.

He is still holding onto Geralt’s hand, one cradling the side of his hand and his pinky, the other holding onto his thumb. Even as specks of snow trickle down from above, and the wind howls, the fire crackles merrily, and Jaskier is holding his hand in his sleep.

Geralt doesn’t take his hand back, and in the morning they have inched closer, and Jaskier is holding Geralt’s hand against himself like you would a teddy bear.

Not long after the summer solstice, they make a close acquaintance with death. Her foul breath brushes the bard’s cheek as a Necker’s claw dug into his flesh.

Lucky for all of them, Jaskier is wearing a leather coat, and instead of being fatal, it just ends up being very fucking painful.

Blood is not a good look on bards, at least not their own, Geralt decides when Jaskier sits eerily quiet after being patched and bundled up in a barn that they’ve got to borrow for the night, with the promise not to bleed on the hay.

That night, Geralt reaches for Jaskier’s hand, holding it as he presses himself up against the bard’s back, listening to his even breaths and rapid heartbeat, infinitely grateful he made it in time to save him.

As with anything, spend enough time doing something and a habit is formed.

It isn’t every time, nor is it a conscious thought, but if there is but an arm's length between them, they will either end up half way out of their bedrolls and meet in the middle, fingers lacing together, or when they’re sitting idly next to each other for whatever reason, their fingers will seek each other out, sometimes barely touching, and other times overlapping.

It stops being a conscious choice, it is something just done. Jaskier eagerly grabbing his hand as he tells exciting news and then forgets to let go, or Geralt wanting to keep track of him, or to support him, or when in a crowd.

It’s natural, an anchor when they are in danger of getting lost.

They part, and they reunite later that summer, and that fall Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hands to rub them warm, to breathe on them to help him regain temperature.

He knows you shouldn’t breathe on them, knows how a breath actually can make them colder, but Geralt may or may not be accidentally brushing his lips to Jaskier’s knuckles, and Jaskier is pretending not to notice, pretending he doesn’t have fine rabbit gloves tucked in his backpack, gifted by the very witcher right in front of him.

Things change, and also they don’t.

Dragons and witches and a child of the elder blood marks each change in their own way. Jaskier finds himself waking up, holding his own hand in his cold room in Kaer Morhen, and Geralt’s hand reaches across the empty bed for the bard’s even before he registers not to.

Another bottle of spirits, this time a stolen Nilfgaardian booze smelling absolutely terrible with the aftertaste of dirt, and another bright idea later, and Jaskier and Geralt once again find themselves sprawled halfway across Jaskier’s bed.

Geralt had to pull him up the stairs by the hand to keep their balance, or so they told themselves. The White gull Geralt ended up downing tastes terrible on the second day he notes, shifting and pulling the warmth by his side closer.

Jaskier grunts in his ear and knees his thigh, but only when he tightens his hold around hot, sweaty fingers does Geralt realize what he’d been missing. Jaskier is tangled against him, arm trapped under himself in an angle that will promise complaints the moment he wakes up. It is warm, and it is comfortable, and Geralt is slowly coming to terms with what pleases him.

Relearning how to share a bed is much easier when you have an anchor, a focal point, or it would have been if Geralt wasn’t startled awake by Jaskier almost falling out of bed. They resettle, Jaskier now firmly between the witcher and the wall, and the back of Geralt’s hand pressed against his lips as sleep reclaims him.

It doesn’t matter if they are awake or not, they reach for each other like a weed craves the sun, like roots seeking dirt, like vines growing where they find purchase.

The day Geralt wakes up and finally finds courage, he kisses Jaskier’s palm, and Jaskier kisses his lips.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #holding hands #hand holding prompts 2021 #shuddup i am so in time it's not been years #fluff #friends to lovers #getting together #dapanda writes #jaskier the bard #geralt of rivia

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Purring Bonus Scene - Part 2

Jaskier grew used to hearing Geralt purr. He purred when they were sitting by the campfire after a good meal. He purred when he had a quiet moment to sit in the sun. He purred when Jaskier was able to convince him to let him rub his back. He purred when he was able to soak in a hot bath after a hunt. And he purred as he lay in bed or on his bedroll, listening to Jaskier quietly work on one of his songs.

He purred when he was happy, so it confused Jaskier when the bard heard him make a sudden, short purr while they were in a crowded market. There were people everywhere, talking, laughing, haggling, and singing. Jaskier was loving all the activity and bustle. There was so much to see, and so many people to talk to.

Geralt started to get uncomfortable. There were too many f***ing people. They were too f***ing close. There was too much f***ing noise. There was just too much going on. He wanted to leave. Now. But they also needed supplies.

A man jostled him by accident, bumped by another market goer, and Geralt made a noise...

Jaskier looked at Geralt when he heard him purr suddenly. The Witcher was glaring at a man who was very quickly stammering appologies and trying to disappear into the crowd.

What the h*ll...?

That purr hadn't sounded like his regular purr. It was deep and rolling. And if Jaskier hadn't had such a good ear for sounds, he would have thought Geralt was growling or 'Hmm' ing threateningly.

Geralt had growled at people before. It was very useful as a warning to stay away, to scare most common folk away, and to express annoyance.

Jaskier had been on the receiving end of a growl several times when his chatter got on Geralt's nerves.

Geralt had been growling at people all morning. They had been bumped and jostled several times already, and Jaskier figured that Geralt was starting to reach the end of his patience.

But that purr concerned him.

He noticed the way Geralt shifted restlessly, pupils dilating slightly as he met his eye, throat working to hold back another purr. Something was wrong. Geralt never purred in public.

Jaskier switched to using Handspeak. He held one hand out, palm up, and shook it horizontally, then curled his fingers into a fist, leaving his thumb and pinky extended, then tapped the sign against his chin.

(What's wrong?)

(I want to leave.) *weird purr with visible effort to cut it off*

(Trouble?)

Geralt's movements were stiff, (No, I just...) *more weird purring* (Let's just go-!)

A man stumbled and bumped into him just then, and Jaskier saw Geralt barely keep himself under control. Geralt ugly growled but managed to keep his arms at his sides when he really wanted to shove the man across the square.

"My apologies, Master Witcher!" The man stammered, clutching his cap and backing away as Geralt gave him a severe scowl. Other people were now giving them wide berth and eyeballing them nervously.

Geralt huffed and twitched his head, signalling for the man to go. The man backed away, bobbing his head in a storm of frantic apologetic bowing that made him look like a nervous pigeon.

Jaskier lightly touched Geralt's arm, feeling him bristle, then relax. He was now looking at every movement, turning at every sound, constantly scenting the air. It clicked: Geralt was overstimmulated. It was time to go.

(Let's go back to the inn.)

*suppressed weird purr and a curt nod*

They had hurried back to the inn, Jaskier leading Geralt through the less crowded parts of the market. Geralt had gone up to their room, closed the curtains and curled up on the bed. He pulled the blanket over himself, then started purring. Geralt closed his eyes and focused on the rythmic sound of it, of the steady vibration, and let it slowly chase away the tightness in his chest.

The sound of Geralt's purring was kind of relaxing. Jaskier found it interesting that this Distressed Purr sounded different than Geralt's Happy Purr. It gave his brain an odd sensation. If he closed his eyes, the sound almost made him feel like he was rocking or swaying.

He realized that this deep, rolling purr was Geralt's way of self-soothing. He wondered if it was the equivalent of an extremely distressed human rocking themselves. The thought bothered him. How many times had Geralt done this in his years on the Path alone? How many times had laid in his bedroll, or in a bed at an inn, alone and Distress purring?

Jaskier sat on the edge of the bed, then hesitantly started rubbing Geralt's shoulder. When Geralt didn't pull away or growl at him, he slowly laid down and cuddled up against his back.

Jaskier heard the purr get a little quieter after a few minutes.

After about an hour Geralt's purr dropped off and he got up to putter around the room. He was looking a little bit better. Less like he was five seconds away from biting someone.

Jaskier let him stay in the room while he returned to the market for the rest of their supplies. Niether one of them ever mentioned the incident.

From then on, Jaskier did his best to keep an eye on Geralt when they went anywhere with crowds. He was good at reading people, and he started paying more attention to Geralt's subtle signs of discomfort. When he noticed the Witcher start getting restless, Jaskier would do whatever he needed to do to give his friend some breathing room.

Or just flat out help him get the f**k out of where ever they were so Geralt could find a quiet place to Distress purr until he felt better. Eventually, Jaskier became very good at helping Geralt completely avoid those situations without him even realizing what was happening.

And Geralt didn't just purr like that when he was overstimmulated. Jaskier heard him purr like that several times when the people of a town had been less than friendly towards him. Oh, he tried to pretend that it didn't bother him, but his purr said otherwise.

Jaskier usually gave him his space, and busied himself on the other side of camp, pretending he couldn't hear him. If Geralt started looking too gloomy, the bard would casually wander over and hand him a mug of tea. Jaskier would then wordlessly drape a blanket around Geralt's shoulders.

He reasoned that since Witchers had several cat-like qualities, that surely they would like to be warm like cats did. He would then sit close beside Geralt, because cats liked to cuddle. It worked most of the time. Geralt would get all warm from the tea, and he would relax. His purr would change from Distressed to Happy as he would start to doze off, leaning on Jaskier...

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geraskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #purring headcanon #soft!jaskier #geralt whump

[shy-urban-hobbit]

There it was again; Aiden’s fingers tapping out a now familiar rhythm against Lambert’s bicep before sliding down to rest on top of his hand as they dozed in the sun. It had started shortly after they’d been reunited on The Path, a scarcity of jobs forcing them apart for a few weeks in an effort to cover more ground to find paying work (a gamble which ended up paying off as they both found pretty lucrative contracts in opposite directions).

Tap – pause - Tap tap tap tap – pause – tap tap tap.

Lambert mentally shrugged, too comfortable to think on it too closely.

Lambert could feel himself slowly going crazy. He’d finally asked Aiden about his new habit after he’d been tapping against Lambert’s chest incessantly during their drawn out goodbye. The Cat had merely smirked in response and told him “You’re a smart pup, figure it out.” Before kissing the end of Lambert’s nose and mounting up, turning his horse Southwards. Lambert had stayed where he was until the other was just a speck on the road.

That was how he’d found himself in Kaer Morhen’s library, surrounded by books and paper and tapping the rhythm out again for the thirtieth time that hour.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d be met with. Lambert reading. Should I be checking you with silver about now?”

“Fuck off, bard.” Lambert sighed like an exasperated parent.

Jaskier merely grinned impudently from where he was leaning against the back of one of the chairs, “What’s all this?”

“Research.” Lambert answered curtly.

“For....”

“Nothing.”

“Research for nothing. Melitele’s bosom you must be bored.”

“Jaskier. Either sit down and shut up or go and bother Geralt.”

Jaskier mimed locking his mouth before taking a seat opposite the youngest Wolf, making a show of leaning back and looking around at the overcrowded shelves, “Soooooo....how was Aiden when you parted ways?”

“Fine.” Lambert put down the old journal he’d been flicking through in an attempt to find clues (maybe it was some old Witcher thing Vesemir had forgotten to teach them seeing as it wasn’t directly linked to monster slaying) before tapping the rhythm out again.

“What’s that?” Jaskier asked.

“Something that damn Cat told me to figure out and when I see him, I'm throwing him to the nearest drowner.”

“Oooooh, a riddle!” Jaskier gave an excited wiggle, attention well and truly caught, “Perhaps I can help? I am a master wordsmith after all.”

“No words involved in this, master wordsmith.” Lambert said, just to be contrary.

“Don’t be too sure.” Jaskier leaned forward slightly, “Humour me.”

Lambert tapped it out once, and then twice again at Jaskier’s request before the human’s expression morphed into one of childlike glee.“I do know this! Oh, I haven’t used it since I was at Oxenfurt, but I know it.”

Lambert felt his eye twitch, because of course it was just his luck Geralt’s bard would know it.”

“Well, what is it?”

Jaskier’s smile shifted, “Aiden told you to figure it out. I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you the answer. Oh, Lambert.” The Wolf swallowed. He'd had no idea the bard was capable of looking devious as he continued, “I think you’ve just become my main source of entertainment for the winter.”

Lambert shared a look with Eskel as Jaskier left the hall, throwing another declaration of love towards their white haired brother as he did so. They had nothing against the casual displays of affection per se, but you knew it was becoming a problem when even Eskel the not so secret romantic was starting to find it a bit much. Geralt had merely shrugged in the way that meant he was just as clueless as the rest of them when his brothers questioned him about it.

“Alright, what are you playing at?” Lambert had asked him one night, the bard blinking up at him guilelessly, “You said you’d help me with, you know, and all you’ve been doing is swooning over Geralt.”

“Lambert, love. I have no idea what you are talking about.” Jaskier replied slowly.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. The other day in the library.”

The bard sighed through his nose petulantly before walking away, muttering something about how he was this close to pushing certain dumb Wolves down the mountain.

Lambert stared at the note. It was actually for Geralt but was it his fault Jaskier had left it out on the main table in the hall for the whole world to see? He blinked as he took in the last three words, the thick black line of ink underneath them making them impossible to miss. Melitele’s arse, now that he was seeing it written down, Jaskier wouldn’t have to push him: Lambert would quite happily throw himself down the mountain, cursing himself the entire time for missing something so simple.

“You’re early!” Aiden exclaimed happily as he leaned down to throw his arms around Lambert, letting the other man pull him down from his horse and into a proper embrace, the taps quickly following, as expected.

Lambert tilted the Cat’s face up with a whispered, “You too.” Feeling Aiden grin into the kiss as Lambert tapped gently against his temple.

Tap – pause – tap tap tap tap – pause – tap tap tap.

I – love - you

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

[eggcompany]

How can I Resist?

"Not when there was just miles of perfectly warm and snugly witcher laid out right there." Jaskier likes to play with his Witcher

Jaskier had been bedding the White Wolf for a few years now. A few Summers. But this is the first time he’s seen his witcher so... relaxed. Up in Kaer Morhen. He had met the two other witcher's and the eldest of them all earlier. But now he and Geralt were up in his room. Geralt was spread out in front of the fire in his smallclothes, he was laying on a rather impressive pile of furs. Jaskier was sat at a small table writing in his journal. He didn’t get very much done though. Not when there was just miles of perfectly warm and snugly witcher laid out right there. Geralt was nearly asleep by the time he heard the rustle of clothes being shucked off, then a very friendly bard was flopping down on his left side.

“You just looked far too perfect for me leave you be.” Jaskier said has be turned to face the older man. He started tracing his fingers over a few scars that sat on Geralt’s sternum and chest.

“’was gonna sleep.” Geralt said in a very low and soft tone.

“Oh a nap would be just lovely, dear. Do you want something to drink or anything before you rest, my love?” Jaskier sat up a bit more but a sword callused hand wrapped under him and pulled the bard down onto Geralt’s chest. Jaskier hummed and cuddled into his witcher’s chest and started to doze. Right before the bard was asleep he pressed a single kiss to whatever skin was near his face.

However that skin was apparently a sensitive spot because soon the bard felt a shiver run down Geralt’s body. He felt Geralt’s hand that wasn’t wrapped around him come and cover that spot. That interested Jaskier.

Jaskier lifted that scarred hand away and kissed that spot again with a bit more pressure. Geralt’s breath hitched a bit and he push his chest up a small bit.

“Sensitive? Oh my dear Geralt that’s just adorable.” Jaskier said as he lifted up and placed his hands on either side of his witcher’s shoulders. He lowered himself and started kissing all over Geralt’s chest.

Geralt wiggled and moved his chest away from the kisses but also pushed up toward the bard’s attack. He let out little whimpers and small “Jask” and “oh”s.

Jaskier had his fun for another few seconds and then he pulled back and looked at Geralt’s face. Pupils big and round, bottom lip being bitten, an almost blush. A blush that would be there if it could be.

Jaskier threw one of his legs over the witcher’s waist and oh. Oh that’s a lovely feeling.

“Geralt you’re harder than a rock. You really like it that much? Gods your wonderful.”

Jaskier rocked a bit back onto the hardon that was right under his ass. He could feel the heat through his pants and Geralt’s smallclothes.

Geralt turned his head and looked away. His hands flexed in the furs, as if he was nervous.

“Well, sweet Geralt, let me continue” Jaskier said so sweetly before he started sucking hickies onto Geralt’s chest and nipping and licking at his nipples. Geralt was almost thrashing under him. Moaning loudly and holding onto the bard’s hair. Jaskier simply pressed his hips down once before Geralt pulled at his hair and pulled him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart Geralt was panting a bit and looked very far away.

Jaskier bent down and kissed his nose.

“Very cute. Now let’s get you washed up and into bed, dearest.”

#fanfic #egg_company #smut tag #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #geraskier fanfic #geraskier smut

[dreamofbecoming]

this isn’t ready for ao3 yet bc i have more planned and i don’t want to make it chaptered, but i’m actually quite pleased with how this turned out, so please enjoy this first taste of my banshee/siren hybrid jaskier story!

part 2

minor warning for gore

wc 745

now on ao3

----

Jaskier knows the taste of death.

He tastes it more often than he’d like (which is to say, at all); every few towns or so, whenever he makes eye contact with the wrong person. An old woman putting out her washing, a young man in a tavern, puffed up and boasting while his fellows egg him on to show off, a girl with bruises on her arms and her eyes downcast, walking in the shadow of her husband. The sickly taste of rot will coat the back of his tongue and he’ll feel a Song rising in his throat.

He never Sings it.

He’s tasted the deaths of a hundred strangers, and while his heart breaks a little every time, he fights down the Song and swallows the rotten bile and turns away, knowing he has no power here. There is nothing he can do for them, now.

This time is different.

This time, the Song he can feel building in his chest isn’t for a stranger.

It’s for Geralt.

Something— breaks, inside him. The Song, which has always before felt like a living thing unto itself, separate from the man who hosts it, just waiting to be unleashed, expands to fill his lungs. For a moment, Jaskier chokes on the sudden absence of air, before his world narrows down to a single thought: No.

He feels the moment when the magic inside him changes, when the Song becomes a part of him instead of simply a parasite. For the first time since his failed training as a child, he lets it loose.

The first to fall is the bowman in the treeline, the one Jaskier saw but Geralt didn’t. Jaskier is too far away to see his face when his hands turn the crossbow on himself, but he can taste the moment when his body falls from his perch, leaving his fellows without cover.

Geralt has felled four of the remaining bandits, but three still encircle him, and Jaskier can see him slowing.

“A single thread

hangs limply down,

and I breathe,

‘Not now,

not now,’”

All three men pull back from their attack on Geralt in an instant. The witcher doesn’t stay his strike and cuts down the one immediately in front of him before whirling to stare at Jaskier in shock, but Jaskier can’t stop now. The Song isn’t finished. Geralt isn’t safe.

“And I find you all

unwoven,

trying desperately

to sew,”

The two bandits left take jerky steps towards each other, swords raised, eyes wild and terrified. The leader makes a low, despairing sound as his friend’s innards spill beneath his blade.

“And I know the kindest thing

is to leave you

alone.”

As the last man drags his own dagger across his throat, his eyes never leave Jaskier’s.

The magic cuts off abruptly, the Song finished with the death fulfilled. Not Geralt’s death, somehow, not anymore. He’s done what he swore he never would, he’s outed himself as a monster, but Geralt is still warm and breathing behind him, so it was worth it. Whatever fate he meets at his witcher’s hands, it was worth it.

Jaskier can taste nothing but decay and blood, and he doubles over, his stomach heaving painfully as he expels his breakfast.

He’s still hunched over the ground, coughing on the lingering taste of death while spots dance in his vision, when he hears Geralt come up behind him. His footsteps are more tentative than Jaskier is used to. Understandably cautious around an unknown threat, Jaskier thinks bitterly. He’d known it was coming, it’s what he expected, but it still chafes. Most of all, he just wishes he had more time. More time with Geralt, but just more time in general.

Still, he won’t die crouched in a puddle of his own vomit like some beast. Whatever his parentage, he has more dignity than that. He’ll meet Geralt’s silver sword standing tall, and it will still be a better death than he could have met if he’d stayed at home, like his sire had expected. Love doesn’t need to be spoken to be worth dying for, after all.

Except, the spots in his vision don’t fade when he stands, like he’d expected; in fact, they grow. He sways on his feet as the world tilts alarmingly. The last thing he sees before the world goes totally black is Geralt, hands empty of silver or steel, lunging to catch him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Jaskier!”

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #creature!jaskier #banshee!jaskier #siren!jaskier #my writing #the amazing devil lyrics as always #will i ever use another band in a witcher fic? i think the fuck not #y’all the amount of lore and backstory and magical mechanics i have come up with for this au is wild #will i use most of it? #almost certainly not #but you can bet your ass i’ve spent at least 4 hours nailing down exactly how a siren and a banshee would reproduce #both genetically and physiologically #siren social structures? #got those #exactly how siren powers and banshee powers might combine (aka how can i justify jaskier being able to do whatever i want him to do)? #yep it’s all up here #i’m actually really excited for where this one is going y’all i hope you like it!!!

[some-october-in-the-future]

Geraskier Fic Rec May 2023

Hello lovely people! I've decided to start my fic rec lists with some Witcher fic focusing on Geralt/Jaskier (Geraskier). I started reading Geraskier fic about three years ago and I'll probably never get tired of this pairing. The below list are some of my favorite fics I've stumbled upon throughout my time in the fandom - I hope you enjoy them! If there are any you think should be added (or you just have good recs) please feel free to send them my way, I'm always looking for new fic! And if you decide to read any of these, please heed the tags on ao3; some deal with topics not everyone wants to read about.

(The first two are probably my favorite Geraskier fics ever)

(if you like any of these let me know let's geek out together)

A Blessing, A Curse by aileenrose, E, 12.6k

"For a while, Jaskier doesn’t know he’s cursed. It feels like free will, going back down that mountain, just as dangerous down as the way up, and alone this time, too. The descent is fast, maybe even reckless, but Jaskier’s feeling numb and out-of-sorts anyways, Geralt’s words simmering in his mind, and at the time it doesn’t feel like he’s being pulled on by anything but his own desire to get away."

Based off a post that Geralt's words on the mountain are granted by the djinn.

one foot in sea by theundiagnosable, E, 23.5k

“Well, that’s a separate issue entirely, isn’t it?” Jaskier says, clearly enthused by being taken on. “I’m opposed to marriage on principle. Would you like to know why?”

“No,” says Geralt.

“I’ll tell you why,” says Jaskier.

to render it transparent by theundiagnosable, E, 24k

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

another dawn by alittlebitmaybe, T, 8k

“Well, we’ll have all the time in the world to make it official, right after we check out this—what was it?”

Geralt side eyes him. “Abandoned cottage. Disappearances. Strange sightings.”

“Right, yes, after we deal with this mysterious hut deep in the woods. No problem. Days and weeks and years aplenty after that."

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) by xdandelionxbloomx, M, 7.5k

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Shadowplay by sospes, M, 26.5k

Geralt returns to Oxenfurt on a bright May morning to find flowers laid outside Jaskier's rooms and a fresh grave in the cemetery.

Except, as Geralt is about to learn, in Jaskier's world things are never quite what they seem.

Bad Moon Rising by sharkhette, Not Rated, 9k

Jaskier had never expected it would be Geralt trying to kill him. Sure, the witcher liked to threaten as much, but they both knew he'd never make good on it. They were friends, whatever Geralt said.

But friends didn't try to rip each other's throats out with their teeth.

Or, Geralt returns from a hunt acting strange.

Valley of Plenty by aileenrose, E, 40.6k

Geralt's brother has died, and now he is raising a child on his own. The last thing he needs is an annoying sous-chef who won't leave him alone.

Or, a variously loose and faithful adaptation of the classic rom-com No Reservations.

The god of scraped knees. by spqr, M, 8k

Jaskier’s been pretending to be human for so long now that he hardly remembers what it feels like to be a sorcerer. He doesn’t want to remember what it feels like to be a sorcerer. But people still murmur his name with reverence in certain dim halls; Dandelion, Dandelion, destroyer of worlds. 

Lessons in Losing by didoandis, E, 11k

“We met five years ago or thereabouts,” Geralt says through gritted teeth. “You came up to me in a tavern near Posada, decided I would be good song material, and we’ve travelled together, off and on, ever since.”

“Huh,” Jaskier says.

“You remember?” Geralt tries to keep the note of hope out of his voice, and doubts he’s been successful.

“Not in the slightest,” Jaskier says cheerfully. “But I must admit it sounds like something I’d do.”

When Jaskier forgets their life together, Geralt learns an unexpected lesson.

#fic rec #can you tell that I enjoy temporary character death lol #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher fic rec #fanfic rec #fanfiction rec #ao3 rec #the witcher a03 #geraskier fic rec #geralt/jaskier fic rec #the witcher fic rec #fanfic #geraskier fic #geralt/jaskier fic #text #my fic recs #my recs

[thewitcheress2389]

Hello! Is it possible for you to write something for Eskel using number 10 and 25? Eskel deserves much love 🥺❤️ Thanks! 💖💖 And, uh, if I wrote something incorrect, sorry for that 😅 My native language isn't English.

I love your works!

You're good! And you are right, Eskel deserves so much love💖💖

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

The Beauty of The Broken

Eskel has always been insecure, but he doesn’t know all the time you take to admire him.

#10 “You should smile more often.”

#25 “Is it that hard to believe that I love you?”

Scarred.

Broken beyond repair.

A terrifying monster.

Unworthy of love.

That’s what Eskel sees every time he looks at his reflection. It’s hard for him to see himself when those voices echo inside his head each time his eyes trail down those scars. That’s all he ends up seeing.

Those scars.

It’s the reason that Eskel stays away from mirrors, and why he always has to collect water from a rushing river. He can never allow himself to look at his reflection or else his insecurities might get to him. Eskel may be a witcher, made for killing some of the most dangerous creatures on the continent. 

But he’s still a man. One who has a heart more fragile and kinder than anyone you’ve ever met.

You see it. How can’t he?

Eskel doesn’t know all the time you take to admire his features. Whether he was cleaning his gear, making a fire, or taking care of Scorpion, you were there to watch every little movement that he made. 

One thing that Eskel hardly allowed you to do was clean his wounds.

He would come back beaten and bloody, but still refuse any help you would offer. At first, you thought he was being stubborn. But you later realized that Eskel had one sole purpose when it came to avoiding your assistance.

He didn’t want you to see him. 

The witcher was full of scars, this was well known. Eskel figured they made him unlovable, so he kept them hidden from your gaze even though you were well aware that they were there. No matter what you said to him, he never believed you. But there was one thing that you absolutely adored about him.

Eskel’s smile.

It’s a little half smile as he never smiles fully. His scars render the other half of his face motionless. Eskel feels if he moves them, people will notice more. He tries to not pay any attention to it. The witcher only ever smiled when he was drunk with Lambert and Geralt, or when he was truly excited or happy for something.

Which was rare.

You loved his little half smile and wished you could see it more. Eskel kept it to himself and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get him to do it a lot. He just doesn’t see what you see.

“You should smile more often.” You told him one day after seeing him smile at you. Eskel was just having such a nice time with you that he brought his walls down. But when you mentioned that, his smile instantly vanished and he turned his head away from you, touching his scars in a nervous gesture.

You reminded him. You noticed. And it brought him nothing but shame.

It's been weeks since you started contemplating your feelings. Your love for him has always been there since he took a contract from you. You figured he must feel something too because he kept coming to see you. Eskel was a shy witcher for sure, but now you were at a crossroads with this.

Do you tell him?

Eskel's insecurities always get the better of him, so you didn't know how he would react if you told him how you felt. You didn't want to shut him down or anything. But he deserved to know. And he needed to know that he was more worthy than anyone to be loved.

That he is no monster.

"Eskel? How is it coming along?" You asked the witcher after you came back from washing yourself up in the river. He was kneeling over a fire, trying to pile sticks together before using Igni to light it up.

“It’s coming.” He responded simply. True to his words, a couple seconds passed by, and you guys had a cozy little fire for the evening. You moved to sit on a log, tapping your hands on your legs as you tried to think of what to say to him. Staring at Eskel, you realized that even though he didn’t say much, he obviously sensed that you had something to say.

The witcher had his back to you, and was busying himself with the campfire, poking at it far longer than he needed to.

"Eskel." Your voice said weakly. Eskel pretended that he couldn't hear you, but you knew that was a lie. Witchers have incredible senses.

"Eskel." You said much more strongly, showing him that you weren't backing down. This caused the witcher to jump a bit, and you bit back an apology. He was obviously trying to ignore you.

"Yes? Sorry...I just had a lot on my mind." Eskel said while stumbling back a bit to sit beside you. He was tense, hands folded in his lap as his leg jumped around in an anxious manner. It was also hard for his golden cat-like eyes to look in your e/c ones. Perhaps he knew what you were going to say.

Perhaps he was afraid of the opposite.

“I noticed...hey, you ever think that there’s more to life than this?” You decided to ease into your confession, not wanting the poor man to shut down on you. Still, you scooted a bit closer to him, causing Eskel to swallow nervously.

“What do you mean? For a witcher, there isn’t much more than this.” Eskel said, folding his hands together and staring deep into the fire. You gave him a sad look, but it quickly glossed over with one of love.

You just couldn’t help but admire how the fire made Eskel look even more rugged. More handsome, in your eyes.

“But what if...what if there was someone who wanted to share it with you? Someone...who loved just everything about you...” You confessed while moving to touch his knee. Just like you expected, Eskel tensed up before moving his body away from your touch.

“That’s impossible. Why would anyone choose to love someone like me? A monster...a scarred monster...” Eskel’s voice grew quieter as he spoke, and he moved to gently touch the scars that ran down his face. If you looked close enough, you could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest. It’s almost as if Eskel was struggling not to just break down at the words he just said.

And it broke your heart.

“Is it that hard to believe that I love you?” You asked him in a whisper, moving to touch his shoulder and make him look at you. It took Eskel a while, but he eventually gave into your touch.

Looking into his eyes, you saw how miserable he looked.

But your heart broke even more when he nodded slightly at your question.

Gently, you brought up your hand to grab his that was trying to hide the scars. Then, after prying his hand away and gripping it in your own, you moved your free hand up to cup his cheek and gently trace over the scars with your finger. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes a bit at the warmth.

“Please don’t push me away...” You begged him quietly, squeezing his hand a bit. Eskel responded in kind, barely being able to muster out an apology because of how choked up with emotion he was. 

“I...I...Thank you...I feel the same for you...” Eskel didn’t know how to respond to your feelings, which he greatly returned in full. He never said anything because he was afraid of the rejection he was sure to receive. But now, he was just basking in the relief and love he felt around you.

“Eskel...” You moved to brush some black hair out of his eyes before kissing his scars and saying, “You are more worthy of my love than anyone else.”

As you said this, moving your hand to rub his back, you could’ve sworn you saw him smile a bit. While you continued to stare, Eskel moved to look you in the eyes for the first time in a long while.

And, just when you thought you would never see it again, he gave you that adoring half-smile.

#the witcher #the witcher 3 #the witcher imagine #the witcher 3 eskel #eskel #eskel x reader #eskel imagine

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I love the cuteagens! Maybe cuteagens staring Eskel and Letho?

The fire crackled between them, the discarded skin of the trout they had consumed half an hour before curling in the flames, and Letho tasted the air. He wasn't sure what possessed him in the moment. Around others, he masked his impulses carefully, because they provided too much of an insight into his relative strengths and potential weaknesses. But with Eskel sitting opposite, illuminated in the flickering amber of the firelight, his body a little dirty, a little travelled, with pheromones and sweat lingering in the linen of his open-necked shirt, Letho found it difficult to control himself.

His tongue lacked tastebuds or scent receptors, but it did collect chemicals from the air for him to press against the roof of his mouth, and it was here that his brain could process the taste of the world around him. Earthy salt from the remains of the fish and the damp soil, the rich tang of mineral oils Eskel was using to coat his steel blade after their successful arachas hunt, and a unique, spicy perfume that was uniquely Eskel. He tasted different to Geralt; Geralt was horse hair, arenaria and bitter on the tongue; Eskel was treated leather, deep, musky, something to be savoured. It was that aroma that had drawn Letho's eye in the tavern where they'd met that morning, and now it made his serpentine eyes flicker closed for a fraction of a second, so he could--

"Everythin' a'right?" asked Eskel in his usual, laidback drawl.

Letho opened his eyes slowly. "Nothin' amiss."

"Just... you licked the air."

"Salt on my lips."

"N'aww," Eskel said, his scarred lips quirking up at the corner. Couldn't get much past this sharp-eyed blood hound. "You licked the air. Seen you do it a few times before, now I come to think of it. Thought I was just seeing things."

Hmm. Letho had not been as discreet as he'd first thought. He considered his options. A continued lie wouldn't earn much more than a dismissive snort from the wolf, further confirming Eskel's belief that Letho hid more than he shared, which meant he was untrustworthy, or he could share this one little tidbit. A tiny sliver of trust in a witcher that had walked the Path as long as he had. Eskel had his own code based on honour, neutrality and avoidance of conflict. The threat was relatively minor and, Letho reasoned, if Eskel knew, then he could taste Eskel more often. Even if only on the air around him.

"I smell things that way."

"Huh." Eskel appeared to consider the information. It would go one of two ways. He would either judge it not sufficiently interesting and continue tending to the sword across his lap or, more likely, he would want to investigate. That was one thing Eskel and Geralt had in common, by Letho's evaluation. Curiosity. But whereas Geralt's extended to politics and people, Eskel's was purely based in the natural world. Couldn't show him an odd looking mushroom without him snaffling it off for a little analysis. If pressed, Letho would admit it to be somewhat endearing. "How's that work then?"

Those deep amber eyes, so much richer in colour than Letho's own, widened a little, trained on Letho's mouth. Letho let his tongue poke out again, topping up the taste of Eskel against the roof of his mouth. "There's a vomeronasal organ in the roof of my mouth. Works through chemoreception, which is--"

"I know what chemoreception is," Eskel huffed, putting his sword aside to roll onto his knees. "Same way basilisks and slyzards smell. Never considered you'd've been given mutagens from those sources. Makes sense though, biggest vipers outside the ones in the grass, although I always figured you'd have had more wyvern, an'--" Eskel was shuffling over but hesitated when Letho raised an eyebrow. Eskel's propriety caught up with him, and he sat back on his heels with a quiet rumble, a chastened hound whose nose had wandered too close to the dinner plate, "can I look?"

Eskel looking meant he got closer, and now that Letho had conceded a little, he wanted to concede more, just to see where it led. It was a slippery slope, and he could hear Ivar's lecture about the duplicitous nature of other schools droning in the back of his head. They were a distraction from the mission, blind to the real purpose of the order. Letho packaged him away in the recesses of his memory and focused on the broadness of Eskel's face.

Hillfolk, Letho recalled. The witch had said as much during one of her many pontifications. As much of a pain in his arse as she had been, Yennefer had provided lots of intelligence on the nature of the wolf school. Letho traced Eskel's wide brow and nose with his eyes; his fingers itched to follow their path, but he kept them resolutely on his thighs as his mouth dropped open for Eskel's inspection.

"Minor warping of the palate, but not much," Eskel murmured, leaning in closer. Letho couldn't hide his body's reaction. His skin crackled like it had been touched by lightning, and the smell of Eskel's made his head light. His palm left his thigh and cupped beneath Eskel's chin to pull him away, but only far enough to meet his eyes. The deepest gold Letho had ever seen, richer than Toussaintese honey. Eskel grimaced, "Got somethin' to say?" Eskel's fingers tightened around Letho's wrist in mild warning.

It was then that Letho realised what he'd done. Lifted a wolf's head to expose his throat. But Eskel hadn't bitten back, hadn't shoved him away; his pupils were blown wide, two black suns highlighted in liquid amber. Letho tilted his own head, tongue darting briefly between his lips. Arousal. And not just his own. Eskel had intended this to happen. "You're playing a dangerous game," Letho said.

"Only play games when the odds are in my favour," Eskel replied, keeping his gaze steady. Letho tested, slipping his hand a little lower to the hinge of Eskel's jaw. He saw the flicker of appreciation even if Eskel tried to keep his gaze level. Eskel pushed against Letho's palm. "Your move."

Letho considered his options, measured the disadvantages of revealing this little crack in his facade, and pulled Eskel towards him. Letho made the wolf arch, stretching him off balance to keep the game in his favour, and brought their lips together. Eskel tasted just as Letho expected; like the divine come to earth. The scent of him washed through Letho's body like a tide, consuming his every sense, leaving quivering eagerness in its wake.

When the wolf let out a little whine, a trill of pleasure followed by a slump on his posture, Letho crowded him to the ground. He slipped a hand into that awful fucking haircut to force Eskel's head back, and licked a long stripe up his exposed throat. Eskel arched against him, strong hands gripping hard at Letho's shoulders. "If I'd known you were so eager to show me your belly, dog," Letho growled. "I'd'a offered sooner."

"Shut up and fuck me," Eskel snarled, or tried, his voice broke around the moan Letho forced from him with a sucking bite at the hinge of his jaw.

Letho smirked, teeth somehow sharper in the dying firelight. "Gladly."

#lethskel #witcher eskel #letho of gulet #tw3 #cutagens

[wolferals]

⭐️NYC⭐️

Henry Cavill x reader

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, vaginal sex, raw sex (wrap it people!)

age gap: y/n‘s 22, Henry is 38 (wrote this before his birthday)

Y/n's POV:

„Hey god it's nice to see you again!"

Henry embraced you in a tight hug and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

It's been almost two years ever since you two had worked on The Witcher together and now you met your ex colleague again.

When you heard he'd be in New York for a photo shoot you had invited him to your place to catch up.

Yes he was many years older than you but back then you two had had such amazing chemistry, you simply wanted to have a sophisticated conversation again. And now that you were 22, it seemed like the perfect time to do so.

His intense scent filled up the room when he let go of you. „It's been a while y/n." he smiled and you smiled back, letting him enter.

He took off his coat and scarf and hung it over the wardrobe. „Come on in, do you want a drink?"

You walked towards the kitchen and he followed you. „Nice place you live in y/n. I'd take any drink you'll have." You sent him a glimpse and opened your cabinet. „I got red wine, beer and..." you looked through the alcoholic beverages - „Bourbon."

He sat down at the bar stool and looked at you fumbling around with the bottles. „I'll take a bourbon if you don't mind."

-„No of course not, i don't drink it, im glad someone does."

You poured him a glass and grabbed the red wine for yourself.

„So what have you been up to?" You stood on the other side of the counter and took a sip of your wine.

„You know, working on some projects. Surviving."

He was ever so charming. „Yeah I heard you were working on your own project, what was it like?"

Henrys eyes lit up when you referred to his newest movie.

„It's been amazing. We had a lot of fun, filmed in Perth and in London. I got to meet a lot of wonderful people."

You couldn't help but smile and eventually made your way around the counter and sat beside him. His short hair and the dark sweatshirt he was wearing really suited him. His muscles looking as delicious as ever.

„What about you y/n. You've been all over the news and ive seen your face on every second movie poster. Going good for you huh?"

You tried to be shallow but he knew you were doing well.

„It's been crazy lately. But i love it, it's a lot of fun. Plus it allows me to afford a place in New York, ive always wanted to live here."

Henry turned to you and just looked at you for a while until he spoke:"You've changed quite a bit. You look older." The black tight pants paired with the black v-neck top and cardigan mightve made you look like a 50 year old woman at that point.

You scoffed jokingly and replied:"Well thanks, you don't look too young yourself Mr Cavill."

He laughed out loud. „You know what i meant. Didn't mean to offend you. But wow is that a wrinkle on your forehead?"

You hit his shoulder playfully and got up from your chair to eventually sit down on the couch.

He did the same and placed one leg on top of the other.

„The view is beautiful."

He spoke with his thick british accent and pointed out the window.

„Yeah im so glad i got the place. I was up against this rich widow with the tiniest dog ive ever seen. She even offered them more money but the landlord gave me the place because he was a fan."

Henry smiled brightly. „See, being an actress with a busy schedule does pay off."

You nodded at him, smiling. „It does, and it's fun so I can't complain. I mean i got to work with you and all those amazing people, that was probably the coolest project ive ever filmed."

-„Yeah and you got to make out with Joey."

You laughed loudly. „Yeah and that too. That was the best part."

He grinned at you. „I bet."

You two continued talking and drinking until it eventually got darker and colder by the minute. „I'll light the fire." you announced once it got too cold for you and you walked over to your fireplace to light a flame.

By the time the fire was burning brightly, that was the only light source in your living room.

Henry had gotten more and more comfortable around you, perhaps due to the alcohol. But by now he was telling you the most private things you hadn't though of him ever doing or having.

It was nice having such a conversation every once in a while.

The new york lights looked beautiful from your apartment and you genuinely felt like going outside.

It was almost December, it was cold and eery but thats just how you liked it. You were so excited for Christmas it was killing you to wait another month.

„What are you thinking about?" Henry asked after you hadn't spoken and only stared out the window for a while.

„Uh nothing. I just like this time of year. I love cold weather when you get to cuddle up inside, wear scarves and hats and drink coffee while staring at the Christmas tree by Rockefeller center."

Henry got up and put down his empty glass on the counter.

„Alright lets go do that." He spoke and handed you your coat when you had walked behind him to the front door.

„Where are we going?"

Henry put on his coat himself and spoke:"I'm buying you coffee and you show me that marvelous Christmas tree."

As if he'd read your mind, you put your shoes and coat on and grabbed a scarf on the way out.

„Im too drunk to walk around the city right now."

you laughed and Henry closed your front door once you were in the hallway.

„Don't worry, I got you."

He grabbed your arm and helped you walk towards the elevator.

He was so tall and so damn broad, it was the easiest thing for him to hold you so you wouldn't fall.

You made your way around the block to your favorite coffee shop. Henry held your arm the entire way there, to 1. prevent you from stumbling and 2. since there were a lot of people on the streets.

„Regular coffee, bit of sugar and almond milk, no

cream?" He whispered into your ear when you were waiting in line at the coffee shop.

He remembered your coffee order.

„You're incredible." you laughed and he winked at you. Then, Henry ordered two coffees to go and you two kept on walking around to the subway.

„Do you really wanna see the tree or was that just an excuse to get outside and to get me sober?"

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. „Maybe yeah, maybe it was an excuse to get your drunk arse out before you passed out on the floor."

-„Hey! Im not that drunk, not my fault my body can't handle one small glass of wine."

He softly patted your shoulder. „Im joking, I want to see the tree. But the fresh air will be good for you."

On the subway you handed him one air pod and you two sat next to each other in silence while your favorite song was playing on the headphones. Since the seats on the subway were so small, your thighs were touching and his arm was around you. It felt kind of nice, it's been a while for you to have been touched by a man. Even if it was so innocent.

You sent him a smile and saw how he looked at you. It was probably all in your head but something in his eyes looked somewhat passionate? Maybe it was the alcohol running through his veins.

„Lets grab a snack afterwards." you spoke to break the awkward silence. He agreed and if you weren't totally crazy he scooted closer. He then told you a joke which made you laugh out loud you had to cover your mouth to not disturb everyone on the subway. He laughed with you and placed his hand on your thigh. Normally you would've told any guy to not touch you but again - you were lowkey desperate and this British man was just as hot as he was charming.

You eventually grabbed the opportunity and placed your hand on top of his. He immediately reacted and intertwined your fingers, which surprised you. You expected him to give you a confused look and pull away but his big hand was warm and him holding you tightly felt better than anything right now.

Once you got off the subway you two walked straight to Rockefeller Center to look at this years tree. Henry was still holding your hand, warming you inside and out. Occasionally he smiled at you while walking but you two didn't talk too much, only listened to music and enjoyed each others company.

On the way, a fan recognized Henry and you took a picture of the two. She was very sweet and probably hadn't seen you two holding hands cause it was too dark out.

You laughed about it and went around the corner just to be met by the glorious, bright christmas tree.

Your eyes lit up and you got all excited to get closer. By basically pulling Henry with you you made your way through the crowd of people and stared up at the tree. Henry did the same and gave your hand a squeeze.

„It's even prettier than last year!" you exclaimed and smiled to yourself. „It's beautiful." you heard Henry say next to you and he whipped out his phone to take a picture.

„Let me take a picture of you." he smiled but you immediately covered your face when he pointed his phone at you. „No!"

-„Oh come on, I need to remember this night."

You eventually gave in when he wouldn't stop and he snapped a quick picture of you. „You're

gorgeous" he spoke and stared at the photo.

„My turn. Pose for me pretty boy."

He laughed and you took a selfie of the two of you. He then grabbed the phone from you and wrapped his arms around you. He took a selfie of the two of you and looked at the photo. „you're beautiful." he repeated and sent you a smile. „Stop being smooth Cavill."

He grabbed your hand once again and pulled you away from the crowd. To take another picture of the whole tree, you thought. But no, he stopped about 50 feet away from the people, by a closed shop and without a warning, grabbed you by the waist and placed his lips on top of yours. It felt better than you'd imagined. It was a hard yet passionate kiss.

His scruff tickled your skin and eventually made you smile against his lips.

He smiled back and kissed you once again.

„What was that for?"

You chuckled and looked at him. But he only pointed above your heads. A fucking mistletoe. He'd better be kidding.

„You dick." He laughed loudly and replied:"Our kiss on the show was cancelled , I had to make up for it. And you know the tradition."

You slapped his chest and walked off smiling to yourself. You didn't care if he kissed you for the sake of Christmas or not, it had felt good and thats all you cared about.

Of course he caught up with you eventually and you two decided to grab a sandwich and head back to yours.

You ended up only eating half a sub but Henry obviously ate the whole thing.

„So any plans for tomorrow?"

You shook your head. „Nope. Just another boring day at my apartment."

Henry nodded understandingly and at some point asked:"How long has it been for you?"

-„Sorry?"

He chuckled. „Since you've had a boyfriend."

You looked at him. „About 2 years. We broke up right after season 1 wrapped actually."

-„Why did you break up?"

-„He didn't wanna be my boyfriend anymore."

You had sounded sadder than you wanted.

Henry a deep breath.

„Idiot."

You bit your lip to stop smiling so badly. „A woman like you deserves a love that always feels like Christmas."

That was the point for you to absolutely lose it and you knew exactly what you wanted from him.

The second the door to your apartment closed you ripped off your coat and shoes and looked up at Henry without saying a word.

„How long has it been for you?"

-„Sorry what now?" he asked confused.

„Since you've had sex." you stated and he chuckled in confusion.

„I don't think thats a topic we should be discussing."

He walked to the kitchen and stood by the counter.

„Why? Are you embarrassed to tell me?"

You skillfully hopped onto the counter in front of him and looked at him.

„You're mad." Henry laughed at you but seemed to not be able to take his eyes off you.

„Come on, tell me. Can't be that bad."

He came closer, practically forcing you to open your legs so he could stand in between.

The tension between your two bodies was too much for you, the way he grabbed your thighs and stared into your soul made you more than wet.

„Ask me that tomorrow okay? It won't be long ago by then."

You swallowed. God he was hot.

His hands grabbed your thighs tighter and you looked down at your lap.

He made you sweat.

„So? Cat got your tongue?"

You could swear his voice just got even deeper.

„Fuck you." you spoke and tried to laugh off your nervousness. „You will, if you let go."

Before you could say anything else, you pulled him closer again and pressed your lips to his.

He understood the assignment, grabbed around your legs and picked you up from the counter.

„Here or your bedroom?"

-„Bedroom." you breathed out inbetween kisses and he nodded.

Henry carried you to your bedroom and lied both of you down on your bed. He kept on kissing you roughly while he slowly took off your cardigan, followed by the tight top you were wearing underneath. Somehow you managed to straddle his lap and pushed him down on his back.

„Oh boy." he groaned when he saw you only in your bra. Thank god all your other bras were dirty and you had to wear the black lace bra that made your boobs look amazing. It was hella uncomfortable tho so you were glad you had a reason to take it off now.

Skillfully he opened the bra, threw it somewhere and grabbed your boobs with both his massive hands. They fit almost perfectly in his hands as he sat up to kiss your neck.

You bit your lip and threw your head back to allow him better access.

Henry then got sick of you being on top and he threw you onto your back, settling between your legs. But then he took off his sweater and exposed his chiseled chest to you. God he truly was a king.

His abs were just as hard as his massive dick that he just wanted to free.

Henrys POV:

The way she was looking at me, all hungry, ready for my dick just made me want to fuck her so bad.

In a swift motion I ripped off her black pants and panties and opened her legs. Her pussy was so wet, just glistening at me in the dim light that came from the living room.

„God you're so wet." I couldn't help but moan. She was gorgeous, and naked in front of me. Ready for me to fuck her up.

So I followed her commands, took off my pants and held my massive cock in my hand, showing her what was yet to come.

She was staring at it while she licked her lips all hungry. I was wondering if she wanted to suck me off or if she wanted me to fuck her like a real man.

I bet she had never had such a good cock.

After earning a nod from her, I slowly pushed my tip into her dripping core. Her eyes rolled back and she arched her back off the bed. I grinned to myself and buried myself in her hot wet pussy.

She looked too fucking hot right now, I had to show her how good I could make her feel.

„You want more baby?" She moaned loudly. Slowly I started moving my dick in and out of her cunt, earning more and more whimpers from her.

So i started to speed up, she felt too good to stop.

This pussy was mine and I was going to show her that.

The faster I got, the louder her moans got.

At some point I was mercilessly slamming my big cock into her and she was screaming my name.

„Scream for daddy." She got louder. Okay, she loved that kind of talk. „Louder baby. Show me who you belong to."

I fucked her rough and thoroughly and she loved every second of it.

„Good girl, take my cock."

I couldn't help but stare at her beautiful features, her mouth wide open moaning for me, her eyes rolling back constantly and those beautiful boobs moving as I fucked her.

She then bit her hand but I couldn't let that happen, needed to hear her moans to cum.

So I placed my hand around her neck and spoke:"Let it all out baby, wanna hear you."

Y/n's POV:

His veiny big hand around your neck got you closer to the edge. And how he kept calling himself daddy and praised you, you had to scream his name.

His cock was so fucking huge, you could almost feel it in your belly. He filled up your pussy so damn well, and all raw and hot you just wanted to cum forever.

„Harder!" you moaned and looked at him. He was all sweaty and ripped, trying so hard to make both of you cum. „Turn around baby. On all fours."

He pulled out and you followed his commands.

On all fours you wanted for him to fuck you until you cried.

From this angle his cock felt even bigger. You could feel his abs against your back as he pulled you up on your neck to fuck your dripping core even harder.

„More Henry, more please." you groaned and tried not to cum right away.

„Fuck I can't." he moaned loudly, followed by deep grunts that rumbled through his chest.

„So tight." he mumbled and grabbed your tits from the back. „Come on baby, cum for me. Im gonna."

You closed your eyes and fully concentrated on the feeling, and eventually your orgasm ripped through you and Henry came almost simultaneously. He let out the hottest, deepest moan you'd ever heard and held onto you so tightly you would have marks on your hips tomorrow.

„Fuck!" he grunted and pulled out.

„Oh fucking hell."

He stared down at your pussy while you lied on your back, trying to catch your breath.

His cum was dripping out of you. For him it was the hottest sight ever, seeing you filled with his hot cum.

Totally fucked and tired you made your way to the bathroom to go pee and clean yourself up.

Henry had stayed in your bedroom, cock still hard, tired and still slightly drunk.

„You alright?" He asked when you came out of the bathroom and started to put on some clothes.

„Yeah. Im good." you smiled and lied down next to him.

„Thank you." you spoke quietly and he chuckled.

„No need to thank me sweetheart. My pleasure. Quite literally."

You laughed as well and cuddled up against his chest. „Fuck that was..."

-„Intense" you finished his sentence and slapped his chest softly.

„Yeah. But as much as I enjoyed this, I should go back to my hotel. Ive been here far too long. I have that photo shoot at 8."

You nodded understandingly.

„I really enjoyed tonight y/n, and it was so great to see you again. Give me a call tomorrow and I'll see if I can come by. I'd love to see you again soon. Not having to wait 2 years."

-„Yeah 2 years are intense too."

He nodded and got up to put on his clothes.

„You're gorgeous and I want to do this again alright? See you tomorrow. And tomorrow I won't be holding back."

With a wink he left your bedroom and a few moments later you heard the door fall into the lock.

#cute #preference #smut #preferences #henrycavillxreader #henryxreader #henry cavill #rough smut

[thisisarcanereverie]

Pawn (Moon Knight x Reader)

So this is Angst. I've probably watched moon knight at least 5 times now. I have so many theories and headcannons about this show I love this so much. (especially Steven Grant aka Best Boi)

Also I haven't slept in a while so have fun!

(I also hope I did the switches right)

It was supposed to be a simple mission. 

In and out. 

You, Layla, and Marc with the assistance of Konshu got a tip that a group of Ammit followers, a seemingly small group from what it entailed, were targeting this artifact located in a museum in New York. Konshu said that while the artifact wasn’t nearly as important as what the followers believed. It could still cause harm to whoever they chose to use it on. So, naturally, the group decided to scope it out and put an end to it. 

It was supposed to be a small group. 

You guys got to the site only for it to be an ambush, a lot more followers than what was originally entailed. Marc had luckily already been wearing the suit. However, you and Layla weren’t as fortunate. While both you and Layla were very good at combat, you still had to be careful. Unlike Marc, you didn’t have sacred healing armor from a Moon God. However, despite being careful you ended up finding yourself cornered between three of the followers. Your gun only had one bullet left and you were sure that one dude broke a rib or something when he landed a hit. You weren’t in the best of shape and you were waiting for him to have your back. 

Even as they beat the shit out of you, you were confident he would have your back. 

As they landed punch after punch, kick into your ribs that made you see brown and the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, you were sure he would come. 

He was supposed to have your back. 

Like you always had his. 

When it became clear he wasn’t coming back you fought harder, breaking more things in the process, and luckily with cleverness you managed to get two of the followers. The last one didn’t put up much of a fight after you killed the two people with him.

When you noticed the place empty except for the bodies of Ammit’s followers a sickening feeling filled you. 

Where were Marc and Layla? 

You gathered what strength you had to look for them a little before deciding to make your way back to where you guys were staying. 

When you got back there you saw your two teammates patching up, Marc didn’t have a scratch, and Layla looked like she had some bruising on her knuckles however Marc was tending to her delicately, devotedly you would say. Marc didn’t even notice when you entered the room looking for the hydrogen peroxide and pain killers, however Layla being the attentive person that she was noticed almost immediately your state. 

“Holy shit,” She said as she made a beeline for you, her curls bouncing, “what in the fuck happened?”

“I’m fine Lay,” You comforted, “I just need some hydrogen peroxide,bandages, pain killers, and a decent amount of sleep and I’ll be right as rain.” You looked behind her and saw Marc’s brown eyes run over your visible injuries. However pissed off you wanted to be at him, you never could be. You barely managed to get Layla to attend to her own injuries when you got to your room where you bandaged yourself up. It was a painful process, the hydrogen burned like all hell in your open wounds, your hands shook wildly as you bandaged those and took those painkillers dry. You knew you should probably drink more water, especially in this case. You no sooner downed the pain killers when you heard a knock at your door. Carefully checking the peep hole only to be met with the stoic expression you know all too well. You opened the door to Marc and motioned him in. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. Regret shown clearly on his face, “I should have been there.”

“You were busy being Moon Knight,” you said, “let's just not make this a habit, yeah?” You said lightly, wincing as you tried to lay back. Sharp pain shooting through you like lightning. 

“Yeah,” he agreed as he watched your face scrunch in pain, “What’s the damage?” 

“Oh you know, a couple of scratches, bruises, and cuts, and harmless fractured ribs.” You said. 

“So nothing serious.”

“Absolutely.” 

Silence rang throughout the room. You and the dark haired male in front of you have always interacted like this, having known him since before his brother's untimely death. You also knew Steven and Jake. You had grown to like and love each part of the man in front of you, the good and the bad. 

Not that he ever noticed. 

You could see him look into the mirror next to the dresser, locked in some sort of conversation before turning his eyes back to you. 

“Steven wants to talk to ya,” he said, “he just wants to make sure you’re alright.” 

“I don’t know,” you said unsure, “I don’t really want him to see me like this.”

“He just wants to make sure you’re ok, he’ll be fine, he’s tougher than we give him credit for.” He said. You nod, in that instance you see his demeanor shift into one that is more open, more…Steven. 

Steven immediately went into full Steven mode. Fussing over you, making sure that you were set up and that your injuries tended to adequately. It took Steven some time to get adjusted to seeing blood and bruises regularly, however, once he did it turned out he had a natural gift for tending to people's needs.  

“Oh dear,” Steven frets, already adjusting the pillow below your head to get you into a better position, “those wankers really did a number on you sweetheart.” You hold on to his hand and look at him. 

“I’m fine Steven, really, let’s just not make this a habit hmn?”

Steven nodded in agreement before looking back at the mirror then back at you. 

“Jake wants me to tell you that he’s sorry as well.”

“Really I’m fine Steven with a V,” You smiled and squeezed his hand to comfort him, “All I need right now I just need to sleep.” After that you bid your good nights before you fell asleep, slipping into the comfortable arms of dreamless sleep. 

—

This is the fifth time. 

Fucking fifth. 

The first two times you were sure they were just accidents, the heat of the moment distracting them. Being cornered, taking most of the heat from your shared opponent while Marc and Layla did what they did best. They made sure to apologize after, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. 

After the third you started to think maybe it was you. 

Maybe if you were stronger, more durable, cleverer, it wouldn’t happen. If only you were smarter you wouldn’t get cornered on missions taking the brunt of it. So you began to brutally train your body, you ran yourself beyond the point of exhaustion. 

The fourth time rolled around and only Layla noticed your state. 

Marc said nothing. 

He looked…disappointed. 

This was the fifth time, you were slowly bleeding out from the deep gash from your leg, luckily the person missed any important muscles and vessels. You were left, again, alone while Marc and Layla were nowhere to be found. You assumed they were already back and were tending to themselves, or Marc tending to Layla more like it. 

With each step you find your temper flaring with the searing pain. You could see what was going on now, clear as fucking day. 

You were bait. 

A goddamn distraction while Marc and Layla got in and got out unscathed or barely. Fire burned behind you as you came to the realization. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, with the burning rage settling in your gut your heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly, nothing but complete sadness settled there. It hurts that no matter how much you’ve been there with him, love him, been both his confidante and his best friend. He would toss you aside for Layla. 

Always Layla. 

You loved her as well, You would’ve given your gun arm if it meant that she lived. You would’ve laid down your life for either of them. 

And the most sick and twisted thing of all. 

Was that even in the midst of your heartbreak and sorrow,

You still would. 

—

Once the gash in your leg was healed enough you quietly grabbed your things. Some part of you wanted to say goodbye to Steven and Jake, you loved them and you had a feeling they didn’t have a part in this, that this was purely Marc. 

You didn’t want to leave, but you knew if you stayed one day you wouldn't be so lucky. You had been lucky so far, they always missed something vital but that wasn’t a guarantee for next time. Next time you could be so seriously injured that you won’t be able to walk back to get what you need for treatment, you could die. 

And you refused to die as someone's bait. 

Once you reach the nightstand you find two pictures that haunt you now. One was a group photo of you, Marc, and Layla. The other was an old picture of you and Marc, you both were still children and nothing in the world mattered more than each other. The angry part of you wanted to smash it, leave the glass everywhere and leave. But the larger, more sentimental part wanted to keep these pictures, since despite everything you still loved them with all your heart. 

You were so engrossed in the photos you didn’t notice the door opening. 

“What’s this?” 

You turned and saw the mess of dark curls leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, the hardened look in his midnight eyes tipped you off. 

Marc. 

You look away from him, not being able to look at him longer. You stuffed the photos in your bag before moving on. 

You reached the pair of jeans on the bed only for Marc’s hand to grab your wrist firmly. 

“Stop,” He said you still refused to look at him, “What the hell are you doing.” 

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” You asked shortly before yanking your arm away from him to continue. Before you could stuff more belongings your bag was suddenly halfway across the room, its contents spilling out. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you Spector?!” You raised your voice still not looking at him. 

“Me?” He asked incrediously, “what the fuck is wrong with me, I’m not the one fucking leaving for no goddamn reason! I mean, you’re not even fucking looking at me!”

“You’re fucking rich y’know that?” You bitterly laughed, “so fucking rich.” 

“Why the fuck are you laughing?”

“Because I’m fed up.” You said finally looking at him, “I’ve loved you, all parts of you, even the bits you're ashamed of and hate yourself for. I’ve never hid that fact, not even when we were children.” You admitted, “I resigned myself to the fact that you’ll never feel that way about me, I’m ok with that. I’m glad you love Layla, and I couldn’t be anymore grateful that Layla loves you the way you’ve always deserved to be loved. I can live with that, and I have been. However, something I can’t live with…is you using me as a pawn.” 

Marc starts to open his mouth. 

“Shut up,” you said, “I’m not done.” Marc closes his mouth. 

“The first few times I didn’t think much of it, when really the red signs were right there. I just thought it was a mistake. Hell, at some point I blamed myself for not being stronger.” You could see his eyes fixating on anything but you after that sentence, “But when those people were hurting me, kicking my stomach until I coughed blood and my vision turned everything blurry, my ribs littered in fractures, and bleeding, and bruised. You were supposed to protect me, I’ve always understood Layla was your number 1 priority, but I was your friend, I’ve been your friend since the beginning. Does my loyalty and friendship mean so little to you?”

“No,” Marc said immediately, looking at you fiercely. 

“No Marc,” You said, “you lie to me one more time I’m just fucking going.” 

“It took me the fifth time to realize, you used me, you used me as a goddamn human shield so that Layla wouldn’t get hurt. You were perfectly ok with me getting stabbed and injured, but not Layla. Not your precious Layla…You didn’t even consider the fact that you knew all too damn well that if it ever came to it, I would die for her. I would do it happily, with a goddamn smile on my face because you’re not the only person who loves her. I would’ve done it for you as well you selfish asshole.” You gathered your bag and belongings from the floor, You didn’t even notice the shards of glass and broken picture frames littering the floor. 

“I’m done,” you said, “I loved you, with everything I had in me I did. I would have given my life. But clearly that was one-sided.” You put your duffle strap over your body and made your way past him to the door. 

You’re almost to the main door when your arm gets pulled back, and there’s Marc, his gaze hard but cracking. 

“Don’t you leave me,” he said, his voice gruff and laced with fustration, “Don’t you fucking leave me.” 

You yanked your arm out of his hold, “You think grabbing my arm will make me stay?” You were met with silence, you went to reach out for the doorknob when you felt his calloused hands hold yours softly. Completely different from two seconds ago. 

“Please sweetheart,” Steven said, his voice soft and pleading, “we need you.” 

You turned to Steven, you could see it in his eyes. He knew what was going on, but Marc kept him quiet. It wasn’t Steven’s fault. 

You brought your hands to his face and wiped the tears that already had formed. You knew what Marc was doing, it was a low blow. Letting Steven front, hoping to change your mind. For him. 

You gently kiss Steven’s eyelids. His salty tears coated your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. 

“I don’t blame you my Steven with a V. I will miss you and Jake, and don’t you or him ever hesitate if you need anything. But I need time away from Marc.” Steven nodded, he sniffled and let go. 

“Marc’s not happy ojos de angel,” Jake warned, “Steven and I will try to hold on to the body as much as we can. But when we slip, he will search for you. He will not stop.” 

“Thank you Jake,” You thanked and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I will miss you.” 

And with that you exited the flat and onto the busy streets of London, your heart breaking with every step. However, at some point, each step got easier, and for the first time you felt like you could breathe. 

You felt like you could sleep.

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