Healing Hands. || Geralt of Rivia x F!Reader. [ONESHOT.]
There are not many beings that Geralt trusts to tend to his wounds. Amongst the limited few is a novice woodland witch - one that he's long felt affection for.
Explicit Sexual Content. Witch!Reader. Hurt/Comfort Elements.
WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. Wounds and Injuries. Explicit Sex (F!Receiving Oral & Vaginal). Reader Has Long Hair - But No Other Physical Descriptions Used. Not Beta Read. Minorly Edited.
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Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!
"Why do you always have to end up like this?"
The words are spoken more to yourself than him. Muttered. Annoyed. Yet, simultaneously gentle and concerned. Just like the brush of your fingers are you pack herbs around his wound - holding them in place as you wind the bandage tighter around his muscled side.
Geralt only hums. The heat of your cottage and the warmth of your touch is nice. Comforting. He knows that he can relax here. That he's safe with you.
Yet, your displeasure at his state remains obvious.
His hands raise. They settle on your hips. Insistent, yet gentle - broad and strong as he slowly tries to reel you in. Wanting to bring you closer to where he sits upon your bed. Ignoring the fact that even now as you stand above - straddling his legs while tending to his wounds - you're not far from him at all.
Still, he needs more.
Needs to be able to take refuge in the comfort of your warmth. Always a safe harbour in a sea of otherwise harsh terrain. Soft words and kind eyes. An untrained woodland witch with more raw talent than half the mages in Aretuza, and who only drabbles in the shallows of her gifts to heal and help.
Your head shakes in disapproval. Still, there's a smile on your lips, and so Geralt knows that you're not actually annoyed at his silent insistence. Pausing for a moment, your bottom lip rolls indecisively between your teeth.
Then, you move. Fingers flit up his chest, and the hem of his cotton shirt falls again. They trail teasingly across the fabric covering his skin, drawing soft patterns of spirals and twists. And then, with soft insistence, you tap the underside of his chin with your index finger. Those golden eyes rise to meet yours.
"You should rest," you tell him softly.
He guides you closer. Your knees hit the edge of the bed, and then - despite your protests - you are atop his lap, knees pressed at either side of his hips. Geralt's hands slide around your body to rest on the small of your back. He can feel the warmth of your skin under your simple blue dress. Can sense how your breathing hitches slightly, increasing as the muscles in his arms bunch, and then he rolls.
You are guided down underneath him, hair fanned upon the mattress.
"Geralt," you warn - fingers pressing lightly against his chest. "No. You should get some sleep."
His lips brush over yours. "I don't want to."
Despite it all, that makes you laugh softly. He can feel the vibrations. How they pass from his chest to yours. The soft sounds of your voice are warm and reassuring. Your breath tickles his cheek - gentle and sweet. It breaks something in him.
He lowers once more, and his mouth captures yours in a firmer kiss. The hand pressed warning against his strong torso relents, and reaches up. It curls around the front of his dirty cotton shirt. Then, you're pulling him closer and leaning up into the embrace.
Across the room, the fireplace crackles. Your body feels so very human under his. The writhe of flame covers the low, high-pitched sounds that catch in your throat, but Geralt's enhanced ears can still hear them. Your breathing is deeper. More hoarse. He can feel the increased beat of your heart as you tug at his shirt. He rises to pull it off without a second thought.
Gentle hands trace the scars along his stomach. They're twisted. Marred deep into the flesh. As carved and rigid as rockface. Your eyes fill with sadness and sympathy as you drink them in - just as they do each time that you catch sight of his old wounds. It only makes him softer further.
You're much different to the others of this world.
The cruelty of the Continent has yet to truly infiltrate this little cottage, hung with its herbs and spices and cut off from the rest of the land by woodlands and snow. He once asked if you ever wanted to go to cities; to sit advising kings in court and learn true magic under the tutelage of the world's best mages. You'd only laughed, and asked who would tend to your little forest garden if you were to leave.
No. You don't crave power or leadership. You barely seem to crave anything. Except in moments like this, when your pupils are blown and Geralt knows that you crave him.
A short growl leaves his lips. Calloused hands disappear under the skirt of your dress, and his fingers guide the undergarments down your legs. Outside, a cold breeze shakes the window shutters. You shiver - but not entirely from the cold. Golden eyes burning, Geralt lowers himself between your legs. His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip hungrily.
A cry bursts from within as he lowers to lick a firm strip up your bare cunt. Your fingers grasp wildly. Tangling in his white hair and tugging at the roots as you strain, while Geralt's hands wrap around your thighs to hold you down. He presses in further. Nose pushed against you, and the touch sends bolts of electric pleasure tingling through your veins.
He teases your clit with firm licks that delve within. His mouth purses around your cunt - sucking and lapping while the short hairs of his stubble chafe against the tender skin of your inner thighs. Those slitted pupils fix on your face as you moan and arch against him, riding the twists and delves of his confident tongue.
Geralt hums under his breath again - low and pleased, and continues to play through the increasing wetness of your folds. Your own arousal is coming quicker. It's tart on his tongue, and spills down his chin. Still, the Witcher can't quite get enough.
His cock throbs inside of his breeches. Already, it's rapidly, almost painfully hard. The type of ache that can only be sheathed by a merciless plough inside of a hot cunt. Still, Geralt is just enough of a gentleman to hold back until you've come first.
He chases you there in a way that is both fervent and unyielding. His burning tongue pushes in and out of your cunt - savouring the taste and the noises that you make - before swirling so playfully against the exposed bundle of nerves at your centre.
The sensations are delicious. Building and building. Driving you higher, until you shattered onto him with a wavering keen.
Only then does Geralt move upward.
Slick shines upon his chin, and his eyes flare before welding his mouth against your own. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. His hands lower to fumble with the catch of his belt, pushing down his rough brown trousers. The thick swell of his cock throbs as he wraps a hand around it - pumping once in preparation.
Still draped upon the bed below, a smile twists your lips at the sight. Your legs spread further in invitation. He can see your cunt ready for him. How it glistens with a mix of saliva and arousal. The sight makes his throat draw tight. But it reels him in too, makes him tingle as if a monster were near, and Geralt lowers once more with haste, but this time so that his face is level with your own.
Your hips lock around his pale waist. His right forearm braces beside your head, just as his left tightly grips the curve of your hip. There's a wet smear as the head of his cock trails up your inner thigh. But then, Geralt's swollen tip lines up at the heated entrance to your cunt. He hovers above, savouring the way that you try to move your hips down - desperate to gain the friction.
"Do you want it?" he murmurs, revelling in the teasing.
"Yes " Your voice is distorted when you answer. Breathy and high-pitched. "Gods, Geralt. Please."
His lips twist into a snarl. Those golden eyes flare. Your toes curl as he pushes in, rough shoulder jarring against your chest, and his angular face burying in the crock of your neck. His cock spears through you. Hard. Insistent, and utterly unyielding. It has your fingers rake down his back. Nails inward, and almost claws as they leave raised lines in his skin.
He doesn't pause.
Why would he?
After all, Geralt knows how you like it by now.
Knows that you might be a sweet little woodlands witch with a smile like sunlight and a voice gentle enough to summon birds from their trees, but you are different in these moments. Not so innocent. More needy and demanding - insatiable for his body and the swift fit of his leaking cock.
The rhythm of his hips is hard. Fast. Merciless as his mouth hungrily seeks out yours while he ploughs you into the bed. The drag of his cock sends firey tremors through your folds. It's hard to think past the motions. How swiftly he fills and unfills you, alongside the many grunts that hitch from his chest.
Springs groan within the mattress. The headboard begins to thud against the wall.
His kiss is a hungry clash of teeth and tongue. Below, Geralt can feel how sweat warms your skin as you fight to hold on. A human can't match a witcher's pace. You let him lead now. Maybe you'll climb atop him when the soft light of the morning sun rises and take him at your own leisure - just as a morning treat.
But for now, there's naught to do except let Geralt take you. He buries himself inside. So deep within that you can feel the dull throb of pain as he pounds through your core. It's enough to warp every torn breath into a ragged cry. They hitch in your lungs with ease drag of his throbbing cock.
The wound upon his side finally starts to ache. It's a dull, radiating pain - enhanced by the tear of your carefully applied stitches.
Yet, Geralt grits his teeth and hurries on. Continuing to pound steadily. Burying himself right into your core until your fingers ache from how tight you clutch him and you're dimly afraid that your bed will break.
Each stroke of his hips is just as even and rough as the last. The thrusts boil the simmering heat gathering in the pit of your stomach. Has you whimpering as he continues to fill you sharply, and to pull it taut. The headboard thunders against the wall now. Striking with such force that one could swear that a storm is here.
It overwhelms you. Shatters rational thought and leaves you with only the feral urge to sink your teeth into the blade of his shoulder and rock back against him harder. Your cunt throbs as you just know that you'll be so very sore in the morrow-
And then, one hard push of his length against just the right spot has you crying out as you hurtle over the edge.
The sounds that you make has his remaining semblance of composure flee. The way that you tighten around him makes his cock pulse achingly. It's too much. All of it. Your face, the growing pain in his side, and your needy whines as you come undone - flexing tightly around him.
It topples his control right over the edge, and Geralt can't hold back any longer. He spurts - releasing inside of you with a low, reverberating groan.
You clutch him tightly as he does. Holding him against your chest while he fills you, and then allowing him to catch his breath afterward. It's not that the Witcher truly needs long at all to recuperate. Both of you know this. Yet, it's still nice that you let him.
Not that Geralt would ever admit so.
A groan leaves his lips as he finally draws back, hovering above. Your gentle hand smooths back strands of white hair from his brow, and a wry smile twists your lips. Those warm, familiar eyes regard him fondly. It's a soft look. More affectionate and fond than he is used to often receiving, even when compared to his array of previous lovers.
It fades slightly as your gaze flickers away - a sudden thought visibly passing over your eyes.
"When do you need to go?" you ask, low and a little despondent.
The smirk he gives in response is knowing. "Not for another few days." It's nice to know that you'll miss him. He pauses then, just for a few moments. "That is, as long as you'll let me remain here a little longer to warm your bed."
You laugh at that. Teasing fingers reach up to playfully pluck at the medallion hanging from his chest. "Of course." You snag the pendant - grip wrapping around it firmly, and tug him down for another heated kiss. "We've got to make sure that your wounds have time to heal, after all."
Outside, the wind blows and snow falls. It's a harsh, cold winter in Redania. Yet, cozied by your little cottage and warm fire - snuggled and laughing together under roughspun blankets - the worries of the Continent all feel quite far away.
Everything does. And for a little while, Geralt forgets it all.
When he wakes in the morning, you're already up. There's a blanket wrapped around your body instead of proper clothes. Dull winter light streams in from the window as you stand in the nook of the kitchen, brewing a pot of sweet-smelling warm apple cider on the lit stove. Seeing he's awake, you spoon some into a cup before returning to his side.
"Good morning, Geralt. How are you feeling?"
The mattress depresses as you sit next to him. He pushes himself into his elbow, and takes the cup offered. The sip that he takes proves that it's just as delicious as it smells. Still, it's not as satisfying as the brush of your lips would be.
His other hand creeps up your back, bunching in your hair to guide you firmly down for a lingering kiss. Your tongue tastes like apple cider - and it's clear that you've already had a cup.
"Better," he replies roughly, mumbling the words against your smiling mouth, "but I would truly be at my happiest if you joined me in here once more."
Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!
A/N: I know it's small, but writing has felt tough recently and this was all that I could manage! 😭 I hope it was okay!
I usually write Marvel, Star Wars/The Mandalorian, and DCEU, amongst others.
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*I do not take requests.
What’s your favorite fics to read over and over again
wow ok this is going to be a lot so sit back, relax, and enjoy the fics lol
(I feel like there is more but I can’t find them)
Oral Fixation by @boxofbonesfic
Body talk by @boxofbonesfic
Merciless by @buckycuddlebuddy
At Least I’ll Have Me by @buckyxplumsss
There Has Been a Misunderstanding by @touchstarvedirl
Through the Year by @punani
You’re a What Now by @floatingpetals
To Build a Home by @fanficimagery (warning! you will fucking have a mental breakdown reading this. I sobbed for days)
What the Fuck Did You Do by @sunmoonandbucky
Clockwork by @aries-writingblog
Tell Me Which Is Worse (Living or Dying First) by @nightowlwriting
Torture by @just-dreaming-marvel
The Old man’s Grocery Order by @yarnforbrains
Something More by @tellmealovestory
It’s a Deal by @justreadingfics
Harmless by @shurisneakers
To Be a God Or a Hero by @spiderbitchspiderbitch
Nostalgia for the New by @real-jane
Appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy
The Price of Truth by @cloneswars
All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by @ursulaismymiddlename
3B by @softlybarnes
Bad Match by @justreadingfics
Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes by @thenhewaswrongaboutme
In The Embers by @foreverindreamlandd
If I Could Fly by @buckyys-doll
None Like You by @bonky-n-steeb
Maple Syrup Memories by @kinanabinks
Spill It by @adrinktostopyourthirst
Couldn’t Be Me by @drunken-imagines
I Won’t Give Up by @christycurlswrites
It Never Ends by @chouettedubois
The Mess by @sanguineterrain
You & I by @buckyownsmylife
Command and Obey by @wanna-do-bad-things
Dumbass Cat by @angelic-kisses13
Achey Thighs by @jadegrey711
Leave Me, but Don’t Leave Me by @buckysgoldenheart
For Auld Lang Syne by @daydreaming-in-letters
Toss a Coin to Your Witcher by @mel-the-fangirl
The One With the One Night Stand by @angywritesstuff
The One With the Advent Calendar by @angywritesstuff
Geralt of Rivia
Sorry Not Sorry by @thefanbasewhore
Vixen by @c-a-v-a-l-r-y
Leaving For Good by @cap-n-stuff
Jasker’s Plan by @anna-pixie
Sex Pollen by @clareguilty
A Jealous Man by @cap-n-stuff
Found by @kh-ael
Maneater by @thewritingdoll
Jealously by @cinebration
Emotionalism by @cinebration
What I mean by @cinebration
Impressed by @cinebration
It’s Alright Darling by @thebadboyfanclub
The Only Women by @writingfortoomanyfandoms
Or Else My Heart Consealing It Will Break by @rocketrhap3000
Eternal(ly Yours) by @ikaris-whore
Fighting Temptation by @ikaris-whore
Snapshot by @beananacake
Regrets by @girl-of-many-fandoms
Try by @thatfangirl42
When You Love Something, You Protect It by @ashc-from-ao3
Dead By Deviants by @starshipsofstarlord
Cruel Lover by @defaulttwig
Savior by @beananacake
Wayward Devotion by @ava-kedavra
The Prenup by @vannybarber
Say It by @stargazingfangirl18
I Trust[ed] You by @likeahorribledream
The Assistant by @trillian-anders
A List of Authors Whose Masterlist is Something I Binge Frequently
Zee’s AUs literally bring me to life. My favorites of hers is; The Barnes au, Hacker’s Heart au, Dewdrop au, and Young & Free au! But every single work in her masterlist is amazing and a must read!
I fricking love Star’s writing! The amount of feels she makes me feel when I read her writing! My personal favorite is her Biker au. I love how everything connects with each other and the plot! The plot is amazing!
Ok, listen, call me overdramatic but Kas’s writing is a work of art. The way she develops characters, plots and how she connects everything together is amazing. You get sucked in the world that she wrote and can get lost in there forever. My personal favorites are Graveyard & Sacrifice,The Witness, By Any Other Name, Delicate Edges, Suburbia, Behind the storm, and that is just naming a few.
Kathie’s writing style unique, I can read a fic without looking at the author’s name and know its her. Kathie has drawn me in with every single work she put out. It’s so hard to choose my favorite but I love it when she writes for college!au bucky. Everyone must check her out, literally reading her masterlist is part of my daily routine.
My goodness, where do I start? Darcy first grabbed my heart with her series Sweet Pea but once I started I could not stop. Her writing is fun, entertaining, wholesome but she can also break your heart in a dozen of pieces; like with her two parter (soon to be three) fic For the Best. Another fic that I normally read first when I binge her masterlist is The Bet.
Bee is an amazing writer. She almost always have the holy trinity (smut, fluff, and angst) I love every piece of writing she has done but my personal favorites of The Match and Project V.
Devon has amazing writing skills. I love how she takes shows/movies or books and create her own little story with it. She goes in depth with all the feels and makes me honestly tear up at times. Some of my favorites are Not Other Shade of Blue, Security Deposit, and Just a Glimmer.
@littlefreya Masterlist/Drabble Masterlist
I’m new to the Henry Cavill plus his characters fandom but one of the first writers I have ever read for Henry was @littlefreya. Her writing is fun and exciting. I always look forward to read her stuff. Plus her smut is a A+, in my book. I don’t think I can choose my favorites as I love everything on her masterlists.
Almost immediately after I watched eternals I went and search for Ikaris x reader fics. Thats went I read Fly Baby for the first time and was memorized. Since then @mcubrunette has added more fics and I have been loving every single one. If you want your heart to squeal, this masterlist is the one for you.
I fricking love Tia’s blog! Not only is her writing amazing but I am in love with her theme! Her masterlist is unique and really fun. But her writing is where its really at. The way she writes her story lines is phenomenal and I look forward for more to come.
Hello my fellow Witcher viewer. May i request something from the touch prompt 15 and 18 with the one and only Geralt. Thank you!! And have a happy new year!
I hope you enjoy this! The idea behind this was originally going to be a one shot but the prompts made me think of it, so here it is 🥺
15. hugging each other
18. squishing the other’s cheek
Warnings: F!reader, food mentions, implied plus size!reader, implied that reader is shorter than Geralt
Ciri had met enough of Geralt’s “friends” to know to expect the unexpected when he told her that he had a friend with whom they could stay for a few days. As she followed his lead and slipped off of Roach’s back outside a tiny cottage at the edge of the woods, she prepared herself for anything from a tusked half-man half-beast to a terrifying mage to answer the door.
She was prepared for anything, she was certain of it, but her eyes still widened in surprise when you opened the door. You looked…normal. You were just a woman in a simple green dress covered by a tatty apron, with flour streaked on the curve of your cheek and dusted through your hair, making you look older than she thought you were. You certainly didn’t look like someone Geralt would be friends with, not with your bright smile and kind eyes and soft curves and edges. Still, there was no denying that you knew the Witcher very well, judging by the way your whole face lit up at the sight of him.
“Geralt!” you exclaimed in surprise before throwing your arms around him.
To Ciri’s surprise, her gruff travelling companion hugged you back fiercely, nearly lifting you off your feet with his arms around your waist. She heard him murmur what she assumed was your name and that it was good to see you, that you looked well. She watched curiously as he set you back on your feet and you reached up to cup his face.
“You’ve lost weight, Witcher,” you teased, squeezing his cheeks, “You’ve gone too long without my cooking.”
“That I have,” he replied fondly, sweeping his thumb along the softness of your cheek, “Far too long.”
His voice was almost unrecognisable to Ciri. Gone was the gruff grumble with which he usually communicated, replaced by a tone warmed by affection and- unless she was very much mistaken- something not unlike love. Whoever you were, you clearly meant a great deal to him.
“And who is this?” you asked, having noticed Ciri standing awkwardly at Roach’s side throughout you and Geralt’s warm reunion.
“This is my ward, Ciri,” Geralt told you, “If it’s not too much trouble, we need somewhere to stay for a few days.”
You smiled warmly at her and she felt a sudden jolt of a forgotten feeling, the feeling of a mother’s love. There was something about the easiness of your smile and the calming, caring aura that surrounded you that made her know immediately that she could trust you.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Ciri,” you said, dusting your hands on your apron before holding your hand out for her to shake, “You look as though you could use a hot meal too.”
Right at that moment, her stomach grumbled, and you flashed her a knowing grin.
“Come in, both of you. I’ve got fresh soup and stew over the fire, and scones in the oven for afterwards.” You saw Ciri turn to see to Roach and you caught her hand gently. “You get inside out of the cold, my dear. I’ll see to Roach.”
“Thank you,” she replied in surprise as you moved to unbuckle the saddle’s girth.
As she headed inside your cottage, the warmth of the roaring fire and the smell of good food hit her, taking a weight from her shoulders immediately. Turning to look back outside, she saw Geralt taking the heavy saddle from you before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. She averted her eyes quickly so that he wouldn’t know that she had been watching as he turned to follow her into the cottage whilst you led Roach round to the small paddock at the side of the building.
The princess fought the urge to giggle at the expression on the Witcher’s face. He was smiling in a way that made her suspect that he didn’t realise he was even doing it, his golden eyes mellow as melted butter as he glanced out the window to look at you again. Apparently a noise did slip from her lips as he turned to look at her in confusion.
“What?” he asked gruffly, and she grinned at the way he couldn’t even manage to sound as grumpy as normal whilst you were nearby.
“How exactly do you two know each other?”
Hii, I was wondering what do you think Geralt's kinks are?
Hello, hello my love! Let's get this show on the road!
Warnings: 18+, all the nasty kinks you can think of; cockwarming, bondage, cunnilingus (oral), DomMale, SubMale, manhandling, biting, chasing, depiction of bodily fluids, sex, rough sex, blindfolding, fun.
Geralt's list of kinks 🐺
Switching - Yes, he is big, he is gruff and he likes to be in charge most of the time, but he won't resist a woman taking the reins and riding him like a succubus on her way to raise hell.
Dominance - When Geralt is done being controlled, the beast comes out to play. Holding you by the throat, he fucks into you with fury, demanding you to call him "sir". He enjoys manhandling you around the hut, taking what he wants whenever he pleases, whichever he desires.
Chains - Geralt spent many times being chained; some of them consensually. Tie him to a tree and do as you wish with him, worship his body, lick him from head to toe and tease him until he breaks through his chains and fuck you on your knees.
Chasing - Nothing like a good hunt, and by hunt he means you. He gives you a head start, just to make you think you have the advantage when really, you are no match to a witcher but watching you scurry away and shriek, makes him harder than you can even imagine. When he fucks you, it's all raw and heated passion, his hands restraining your wrists, his cock bottoming in so deep, you can hardly even squeal.
Cunnilingus - He is the big bad wolf, he will eat your cherry pie like a depraved animal, lie you down on the forest's bed, his hand on your belly and his mouth ravishing your little cunt.
Coming all over your face and tits - kneel and open your mouth, dove. Geralt enjoys tugging on his enormous shaft while you are down on your knees like his obedient harlot. He growls as he comes, sprouting his hot seed all over your face.
Biting - these teeth are made for marking. It starts with tender nibbles and ends up with bite marks all over your flesh.
Teasing, bondage and blindfolding - for Geralt there is either slow and torturous or vigorous, no in-between. If he is in the mood to play, he will bind you to his bed and tease you for hours, watch you squirm and beg as his fingers trace every inch of your body. Sliding between your thighs, ghosting between your folds and just a slight caress over your clit.
Cockwarming - With all said and done, sometimes he just wants to feel the warmth of your body next to his. Lying in bed together, he squeezes you between his big muscular arms while his cock is nestled deep between your walls. He likes to stay this way for as much as possible, throbbing, wrapped in your lush embrace.
Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.
You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.
Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Word Count: 4.1k
"Whoa, easy girl." You said, slowing your horse down.
Snow was now falling steadily from the sky as you leant forward, patting your horses neck while riding through the front gates of Kaer Morhen.
After dropping your horse off at the stables, making sure she had fresh food and water, you began to make your way around to the front of the building.
You could hear your fellow Witchers inside, talking, laughing and carrying on. But, you just hoped like hell that Geralt wasn't in there.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed the front doors open and stepped inside.
The second the doors closed behind you, everyone stopped what they were doing, all of them turning to look at you.
For an endless span of time, nobody moved or said anything as you looked over at everyone and released a small sigh of relief when Geralt was nowhere to be seen.
"Holy fucking shit, Y/N!" Lambert shouted, breaking the silence as he looked over at you in shock.
"Hey boys." You greeted, unable to stop yourself from smiling.
You pulled off your large coat as you walked into the room, draping it over the nearest chair before Lambert reached your side and wrapped you up in a tight hug.
"He won't admit it, but he missed you." Coen called out causing them all to all laugh.
"Shut up. You lot missed her too." Lambert responded, letting go of you as he glared at the others.
"I missed you idiots too."
One by one, you hugged the men that you considered brothers before you paused and looked around, only just noticing that your actual brother was nowhere to be seen.
That's odd. He never missed a winter here.
"He'll be here soon. Don't worry, girl." Vesemir's voice suddenly said.
You paused, slowly turning around to find the older man walking into the room with a rare smile plastered on his face.
"Vesemir." You said, rushing over to him and pulling him into a hug. "How have you been?"
"Better now that most of you kids are here." He responded, pulling away from you, his hand still on your shoulder. "I heard about you and Geralt. I'm sorry."
You opened your mouth about to ask what exactly he heard before he continued talking,
"Lambert ran into him a while back, Geralt told him what happened."
You sighed, glaring at Lambert across the room who had the audacity to try and look innocent.
"I didn't mean to tell Vesemir, but after a few too many drinks, that stuff just kind of slips out."
"You're such a fucking light weight." Vortek teased, throwing a piece of bread at him.
"Fuck off." Lambert grumbled, ditching the bread back at him causing you to roll your eyes at their childlike behaviour.
"Come have a drink, Y/N." Coen suddenly said, holding up a cup of something that you were almost certain was going to taste like shit, but you accepted it anyway.
For the next hour, you sat the table amongst your brothers swapping stories about what you've all been up to and what monsters you've hunted.
It was nice to be with them all again, listening to them talk, laugh and make fun of each other.
You had missed this.
Merek was in the middle of some random story when suddenly the front doors opened and without even looking, you knew Geralt had entered by the way your brothers all suddenly went silent.
Lambert kicked your foot from under the table as a quick warning, but you already knew it was Geralt.
For the longest time, nobody said anything and you reluctantly lifted your head to find Geralt stepping inside.
Just looking at him made you feel like bursting into tears which was stupid, right? You had broken up years ago, you should be over these feelings, you should be over him. But, as his eyes locked with yours from across the room, you knew that you were screwed.
Geralt had a bandaged wrapped around his thigh and seemed to be limping a little as he stepped further into the room, looking around at everyone. Despite how badly he had hurt you, you were still worried as you eyed the bandage cautiously.
You were so damn focused on his injury, you didn't even notice the girl walking in behind him until she spoke up.
"Is that Y/N?" She whispered, looking up at Geralt before looking over at you with wide curious eyes.
You knew she had whispered it so you wouldn't hear, but you had heard her loud and clear as Geralt simply nodded, his entire body tense as he stared at you.
She must be his child surprise.
Princess Cirilla of Cintra.
He always said that he wouldn't claim her. Hell, you were pretty sure Queen Calanthe would kill him if he tried. But, you had heard all about the war. The Queen was dead. Cintra had fallen.
Geralt had probably saved the princess.
He was always the heroic type.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Lambert questioned, standing up from the table and walking towards Geralt.
You didn't dare move from where you were seated as Geralts eyes shifted away from you and turned towards the other man.
"We thought you got lost. Or killed." Coen added.
"Not yet." Geralt answered, looking between his brothers with a smile. "Sorry."
Your fellow Witchers all laughed before they embraced Geralt with hugs as you watched quietly, unsure of what to do.
You hated the way that your heart was beating faster than usual just by looking at him and you hoped that nobody had noticed. Geralt looked exactly the same as the last time you saw him, he hadn't changed in the slightest. if anything, he had gotten hotter, how the fuck was that even possible?
Turning away, you grabbed your beer and took a sip, trying to distract yourself.
You could feel Geralt watching you once the chatter and greetings had dimmed down, but you didn't look up as you fiddled with the cup in front of you.
To your relief, Geralt didn't try and talk to you as the Witchers all sat down around the tables, pouring more drinks as Geralt introduced the girl to everyone, confirming your suspicions that she was in fact his Child Surprise and the Princess of Cintra.
The guys all welcomes the girl and you gave her a warming smile from across the room causing her to smile softly back before the boys all began swapping war stories.
Lambert just finished telling the story of his best job of the year before Vesemir walked into the room, raising his drink.
"Each of your faces is cause enough for celebration. You're safe. You made it back. You made it home."
"Hear, hear." You all responded, raising your drinks.
"Here's to another winter together." Coen added, lifting his drink too.
"To forgetting the fucking Path!" An all too familiar voice suddenly shouted as you lifted your head to find your brother walking through the front door. "For one fucking night. Who's ready?"
"Eskel!" Everyone cheered.
You were on your feet in an instant as you rushed across the room and wrapped your twin brother up in a hug.
Eskel chuckled softly and he hugged you back, holding you tightly.
"I missed you so much." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
Those few words were enough to set off alarm bells in your head as you pulled away, your hands still on his shoulders as you looked your brother up and down.
He was never an emotional or sentimental person, he rarely said anything like that to. Usually he would be cracking jokes and picking on you, not telling you that he had missed you.
Eskel looked exhausted. He had cuts and bruises over his face, but other than that he didn't seem to be badly injured as far as you could tell.
"I missed you too. Are you okay?" You asked worriedly.
Eskel smiled, "you should see the other guy."
You rolled your eyes at his typical answer before you stepped to the side, allowing the others to all hug him too.
Geralt hesitantly stepped forward, almost as if he was worried to face your brother.
You were confused for a moment before realising that Geralt probably thought you had told Eskel everything. He probably thought your twin would want to kill him.
That was the exact reason why you hadn't told Eskel everything. You had told him that you and Geralt were over. But you didn't dare go into detail, knowing that your twin would definitely try and kill Geralt for it.
"You look like day-old shit." You heard Geralt say as he hugged Eskel before pulling away.
"The bout lasted six hours. I'd have got the fucker, too, if I hadn't lost my elixirs." Your brother started to explain as he pulled the bag from his back and tossed it to the ground. "Took her hand, though."
You looked back down at his bag to find that there was, in fact, a hand inside. It wasn't a normal hand, it was wooden and tree like... wait, had he fought a leshy?
"Is that a leshy?" One of the guys asked, coming to the same assumption as you.
Your brother shrugged his shoulders.
"Walked like one. Talked like one. Sort of."
"Sort of?" You asked in confusion.
"I haven't crossed a leshy in a while." Geralt said, frowning.
"Well, count yourselves lucky. Unless you're aching from the sting of one of their fucking roots." Eskel replied, grabbing his shoulder with a wince.
"Fire through the heart is the only thing that puts one down. Six hours in, that didn't occur to you?" Vesemir questioned causing the others to all chuckle softly.
Eskel just glared at them before his eyes landed on Ciri still sitting at the table and walked towards her.
The girl took a sip of her drink as your brother leant down towards her curiously.
"Who the hell are you?"
Ciri sloshed her drink in her mouth before swallowing it, placing her cup on the table and turning towards your brother properly.
"Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Pleasure to meet you."
Eskel's mouth opened, but nothing came out as he stared at her in shock, prompting Geralt to explain the situation again before the group of you got back to drinking and swapping stories.
You didn't really talk though, you just sat there beside your twin, listening to the others while avoiding Geralts gaze from across the room.
After a while, Geralt took Ciri and showed her around the place, but the second he walked out the room, Eskel turned towards you with a questioning look on his face.
"What?" You asked dumbly, despite knowing exactly what he was going to ask.
"Something more happened between you and Geralt, right? You told me you two were over, but there's more to the story."
"There's no story. We're over, that's it."
Eskel raised his eyebrows, "really? Because if that was the case, then why are the two of you avoiding each other like the damn plague?"
You sighed, shaking your head. This was not a conversation you wanted to have with anyone, especially your brother.
"C'mon, sis. It's me. You can talk to me, you know that." He said, his voice turning soft as he stared at you, worry glistening in his eyes.
"Things just ended badly between us and we haven't seen each other since. It's just awkward." You responded, which was true, just not the whole truth.
Your brother eyed you cautiously like he knew you were keeping information from him as he took a sip of his drink before talking.
"Why did you the two of you breakup in the first place? You and Geralt were... dare I say it, perfect together. What changed?"
"He met someone else." You answered, looking down at the cup in your hand. "He, uh, he slept with her while we were still together. So, I left."
You didn't dare look at your brother, but you could hear his heart beating faster as anger radiated off him before he abruptly got to his feet.
"I'm going to fucking kill him-"
"No!" You quickly said, a little too loudly as you grabbed his arm, stopping him.
That caused the others in the room to all fall silent as they looked over at the two of you in confusion.
"It's over. It's in the past. Just leave it, okay?" You whispered, looking up at your brother.
He tried to yank his arm free from your grip, but couldn't as you held him back, silently begging him not to do anything.
"He cheated on you, Y/N!" He hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "He fucking cheated on you!"
"You think I don't know that?!"
You swiftly stood up anger starting to rise in your voice because it was easier to be angry than upset.
"I do not want you making a scene about this." You added, trying to calm yourself down.
"So, I'm meant to do nothing? He hurt you, Y/N."
You sighed, letting go of Eskels arm as you rubbed your face with your hands, hating how you could feel tears now burning in the back of your eyes.
"Eskel, please." You said, hating how small your voice had gotten.
That seemed to catch your brothers attention, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
"It's in the past. Just leave it, okay?"
Eskel looked down at the ground for a moment and you could see the conflict in his expression as he thought about what to do before he reluctantly nodded.
"Okay, fine. But, if he does anything, I swear, he's dead." He threatened, sitting back down and chugging the last of his drink. "Are you okay, though?"
"Yeah." You lied, putting on a fake smile. "It was years ago, I'm fine now."
You spent the next few hours with your brother and the others, drinking and talking before you wandered into the sleeping quarters and opened the door to your usual room.
It felt odd being back, but at the same time, it felt like home.
Laying your bag of belongings on your bed, you changed out of your black studded leather armour, swapping it for a loosely fitted shirt as you leant your sword up against the bed before disappearing back into the hallway.
You weren't really sure where you were going, but you ended up walking towards the laboratory, but stopped when you heard voices coming from inside.
"Well, how did you spend your days when you first came here?" Ciri's voice asked from inside.
"I was beaten and starved." You heard Geralt answer, but before you could walk away, he must have sense your presence. "Y/N?"
You sighed, silently cursing yourself for not leaving the second you heard their voices.
Reluctantly, you stepped into the room to find Geralt and Ciri standing around the table where the leshy hand was lying atop. Geralt no doubt inspecting and studying it.
You stared at leshy's hand, not wanting to look at Geralt because you knew if you did, it would all be over.
"Hi, I don't think we had a chance to properly meet. I'm Ciri." The girl suddenly said, walking over to you with a bright smile.
"Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You said, shaking the young girls hand.
You could feel Geralts eyes on you, but you refused to look at him as you smiled at the girl before you turned around and started to walk back out the room.
"Y/N." Geralt suddenly called out, stopping you in your tracks. "Can we talk?"
You should just keep walking. You didn't owe Geralt a God damn thing, but you found yourself turning back towards him, coming face to face with a rather nervous looking Geralt.
The Witcher was many things, but nervous? Never.
"We don't have anything to talk about." You simply replied, turning back around when suddenly rushed across the room and grabbed your shoulder. "If you want to keep that hand, I'd suggest you let go."
Geralt sighed, but let go of your shoulder as you turned to face him and he took a small step back, giving you some space.
It may have been years since you last saw him, but you knew Geralt would never hurt you. No matter what happened between the two of you, he would never physically hurt you.
"Where is Yennefer anyway? Thought you two were attached by the hip." You said, cutting him off as you glanced over at Ciri who was standing off to the side, watching the two of you curiously.
"I haven't seen her since the day on the mountain."
He hadn't seen her since that day either? Why?
"She didn't want anything to do with me. She left. I think she's dead now, anyway." Geralt continued to explain, noticing the shocked look on your face. "I didn't chose her over you, Y/N."
"I know." You agreed, crossing your arms over your chest. "But, you didn't choose me over her either, right?"
"Hmm." He nodded, not even trying to deny it.
You turned around and started to walk out the room.
"Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life."
You froze in the doorway at his words. Your brain telling you to leave while your heart screamed at you to stay. And you had no idea what to do.
"I'm sorry, Y/N."
You wanted to forgive him. You wanted to turn around and run into his arms and forget about everything he did. But, you couldn't.
No matter how badly you wanted to go back to him, you couldn't. He slept with Yennefer while he was with you. He cheated on you with her. You couldn't just forgive and forget something like that. You couldn't.
Geralt was sorry. You knew he was sorry, but sorry wasn't enough.
"I didn't mean to hurt you." He continued to say and you reluctantly turned to face him.
Those golden eyes locked with yours and your heart shattered taking in the sadness inside them.
"But, you did."
Geralt sighed, lowering his head. "I know."
You didn't hang around to hear what else he was going to say because you didn't exactly trust yourself to not run into his arms if he tried to apologise again. However, as you opened the door to walk out, the sound of men cheering and laughing filled the air.
Something was definitely going on.
"What's that?" Ciri asked from behind you.
"Stay here." Geralt instructed, making his way towards the door.
"You know, in Cintra, I went to parties-"
"Cirilla." Geralt said cutting her off as you walked out the room, following the source of the noise, Geralt right behind you.
The second you walked into the main room, you froze when you saw all the topless and naked women hanging off every Witcher and dancing on the table tops.
What the fuck?
How did they get here? Nobody was meant to know the location of Kaer Morhen, let alone these women.
"What is this?" You asked, walking over to Vesemir across the room, who for once actually seemed to be enjoying himself.
"Your twin found some friends down the mountain." The older man answered.
"They shouldn't be here. And they should know better." Geralt responded from beside you.
"He drank too much stramonium for that sting, I reckon. They all did. They won't remember anything by tomorrow. Certainly not how they got here."
You knew Vesemir was right. They were all extremely drunk and you planned on giving them shit for it in the morning, but that didn't exclude the fact that, Eskel, had invited all these people here when he shouldn't have.
Geralt growled in frustration and started marching across the room towards your brother who was currently tongue deep in one of the women.
Oh, this was going to be good.
"Eskel, what are you doing?" Geralt questioned, reaching your brothers side.
You began to make your way over to them, knowing that if your brother was drunk and remembered what you had told him earlier, he was not going to react well to being confronted by Geralt.
"Are you takin' a break from tuckin' in your girl?" Eskel asked, staring at Geralt before turning back towards the woman he had been kissing.
"I understand that you're in pain, and you can drown that pain with whomever you want. Just not here."
Eskel paused for a moment before he turned back to Geralt with a venomous look in his eye.
"Aah, it's funny, you know. Me and the boys, we come back here, all banged up. Rock troll bust Lambert's eye. A werewolf took a chunk out of Coen's arse. Eh? And what do you come back with?" He asked, taking a step towards Geralt until they were face to face.
"Eskel, not here." You said, shaking your head, silently telling him to stand down.
Your brother glanced over at you for a second, but didn't listen and looked back at Geralt.
"You got some fucking balls to come back here after what you did to my little sister."
Geralt's expression cracked, a wave of mixed emotions washing over him, but they were gone before you could place them.
"What happened between Y/N and I, has nothing to do with you." Geralt responded calmly.
Eskel growled under his breath, taking a step towards him until they were practically toe to toe.
"Eskel-" You tried to say, but he cut you off.
"No. He doesn't just get a free fucking pass after what he did he to you!" He shouted, glancing over at you before narrowing his eyes at Geralt. "The only reason you're still fucking standing is because she's here. So, don't push me." Eskel growled.
Geralt didn't say anything, but he didn't move or take his eyes away from Eskel. They stared at each other before your brother reluctantly took a step back and walked back over to the woman he had been kissing earlier.
"These women shouldn't be here." Geralt suddenly stated, taking a step towards Eskel.
"Don't." You warned, stepping in front of Geralt, blocking his path.
If he tried to approach your brother again, you were almost certain it would end in a fist fight... or worse.
You glanced over at your brother, the woman now practically hanging off him, taking his attention away from you and Geralt which you were grateful for.
"Just go." You said, looking back at Geralt.
His golden eyes locked with yours for a moment before he looked over your shoulder at Eskel.
"Like Vesemir said, they won't even remember how they got here by morning." You quickly said, holding your hand out against his chest when he tried to step around you. "Just walk away."
That was the only response you got from him which shouldn't have been a surprise, but he didn't make any indication that he was actually going to listen.
But, again, he didn't move.
"I believe my sister just told you to leave." Eskel's voice suddenly said as he appeared beside you, glaring at Geralt. "So, fuck off."
"Eskel, I don't want to fight you,"
Your brother just chuckled, shaking his head.
"If that were true. You wouldn't have hurt my little sister."
"I'm not your little sister, we're twins." You argued, glancing over at your brother.
"I'm 12 minutes older than you." He pointed out, looking over at you. "So, you are my little sister and he should have known better!"
Suddenly, Eskel jumped forward and before you could even react, he was swinging his fist towards Geralts face.
Oh, for fuck sake.
Geralt only just managed to move his head out the way, avoiding a nasty punch to the jaw before he grabbed Eskel around the shoulders, pinning him down.
"Eskel. Go to bed. Hmm?" He instructed sternly, holding your brother down before pushing him away.
Eskel stumbled back a few steps, panting as he glared at Geralt before he glanced over at you with a questioning look.
You gave him a small reassuring nod and he reluctantly walked back over to his woman who, to your relief, lead him out the room towards the corridor.
Geralt watched them leave before he turned back towards you.
You could tell that he wanted to say something, but you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say.
So, you turned around walked across the room to Lambert, who to your surprise, didn't have one of those women hanging off him.
Lambert offered you a beer which you took, downing the entire thing before you glanced back at, Geralt. Those golden eyes still watching you before he turned and walked out the room.
"You want to talk about what the hell just happened over there?" Lambert asked, holding out another drink.
You grabbed the cup and sat down beside him with a sigh.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
Firstly, thank you all so much for the love and support in the first chapter.
I am absolutely blown away by how many of you read it and liked it, so thank you and I hope you all enjoyed the second chapter too.
If anyone wants to be added to my Forever Tag List or my new The Witcher Tag List, just let me know.
Anyway, until next time, stay safe and have a great day xx
The Best Sleep
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Word Count: 1,509
Warnings: Light smut, unprotected sex
Summary: You travel with Geralt and after on fairly brutal job, you and Geralt stop at an inn for a bath and a bed.
Note: This turned out a little longer than I planned. Also was going to be fluffy, and ended smutty. I hope you enjoy!
Taglist: Let me know if you'd like to be added to a tag list
@undisputedchick, @retrobuckybear, @kaylamontaniz, @inlovewithhisblueeyes, @beck07990, @poledancingdinos, @foxybunny, @summersong69, @ysmmsy, @identity2212
You stand off to the side, holding onto your aching ribs. Breathing hard, your eyes follow every move of the fight in front you, trying to plan your next move carefully. Chanting softly, your fingers begin to tingle as magik builds in the tips. You have to get your timing just right or else you could miss the monster and hit Geralt instead. While the blast wouldn’t kill him, the force you are focusing into it could hurt him greatly.
So you keep your eyes locked on Geralt, watching as he dances around the spider-like creature, attacking it from all sides using Aard and his sword. Between the two of you, the creature was wounded, but was putting up a very good fight, not going down easily. Finally, you notice your chance, anticipating Geralt’s next move, you whistle to signal to Geralt just in time for you to send the blast of energy at the creature. This gives Geralt the perfect opportunity to drive his sword through the monster, slashing it in half.
With a sigh, you collapse against a tree. Geralt moves over to you, his amber eyes showing his worry as he kneels beside you,
You nod, "Yeah, just some bumps, bruises and possible cracked ribs, no blood, unlike you. Nothing a good night's sleep won't take care of."
"Hmm, come on then. Let's head back into town, get our coin and a couple of rooms for the night."
“And a bath. A hot bath would really be nice. Especially for you, get cleaned before your wounds get infected.”
Geralt chuckles, helping you up and holding on to you until you are stable and able to stand on your own. He calls for Roach and the three of you head back towards the village, going to the tavern inn.
Once you get back, you look at Geralt, “You wait here, I’ll go get us some rooms.”
Geralt just grunts and moves to get a drink and a table. With a roll of your eyes you head in, knowing you must look like a frightful sight, but maybe the innkeeper will take pity on you if you look like hell.
"Hello, two rooms please." You ask the innkeeper with a sweet smile.
The man gives you a half smile, "Sorry ma'am; I only got one room left."
Your smile falters, "oh um, does it have 2 beds?"
He shakes his head, causing you to sigh, fuck, this might make things a little awkward. Do you take the single room and sleep on a nice comfortable bed or go look for a place to set up camp? Well you could always take the room for yourself, but that’s not fair to Geralt, he needs to have a bed to sleep in too, even though he would deny it. But after all the traveling and fighting, it’s been a few weeks since you both slept in an actual bed. Would you both be comfortable sharing a bed?
“Ma’am?” he calls to you, breaking your thoughts
With a sigh, you brighten your smile, "OK, yeah. I guess I'll take the single room please."
"How many nights?"
"Just tonight probably. If not, I'll pay extra tomorrow."
He hmms, "here is your key miss. Let me know if you need anything."
You grab the keys and head over to Geralt. He looks up at you, “One room, really?”
You curse under your breath, “I really do hate that sensitive hearing of yours. But yes, one room, we take it or leave it. And after these last few weeks, I’d rather share a room than sleep outside again, wouldn’t you? You drink and do whatever, I’m gonna go bathe. You might want to go take one as well.”
You walk off and head up to one of the washrooms. After soaking in the hot bath, and feeling refreshed, you get dressed and head back to the room where you find Geralt laying back on the bed, arms folded behind his head with the sheet covering his lower half.
“Geralt, are you naked?”
“You wanted to share a room, so that means dealing with sleeping with me how I normally sleep. Naked.” he grumbles out with a smirk, glancing over at you.
You narrow your eyes at him; him thinking you’ll back out of this arrangement. But jokes on him, because you are not some doe-eyed innocent girl scared of the big bad witcher. No, if he wants to play this game, you’ll play it with him.
“Oh okay. Well if you are going to sleep like you normally would, guess I will too.”
You take off your sleep shirt, leaving yourself equally naked. Crawling into bed, you pull the sheet up so it rests just under your breasts and lay on your side facing Geralt,
“Goodnight Witcher. Sleep tight.”
You smile to yourself, noticing Geralt’s eyes go wide and focus on your breasts.
“Hmm, fuck.” he curses, turning over in the bed away from you, making you giggle knowing you beat him at his game.
Sleep quickly consumes you and you are off in dreamland.
At some point in the night, you and Geralt have moved and are now laying with your back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around you and his hand cupping your breast. You let out a small moan, wiggling back into him more; feeling warm, safe and comfortable.
Your eyes snap open when you hear a moan come from Geralt and he presses his hips into your ass. You can feel his hard member pressing into your ass.
“Geralt…” you call out to him softly,
He hums curling into you more, his hand squeezing your boob
“Mmm, so soft.” his lips graze over your neck, causing you to suck in a gasp of air.
The feel of his body against yours, his touch, his cock, has heat building between your legs.
“Geralt please…Wake up…”
“What makes you think I’m not awake?”
You gasp, turning your head to look at him, “You’ve been awake this whole time?!”
He grins at you, “Difficult to stay asleep when I have a sexy little ass rubbing against my cock, making it hard.”
To prove his point, he pushes into you more, making you moan. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean your head back on his shoulder. He starts to kiss your neck, moving his free hand down your stomach between your legs, there he finds your little nub, wet and aching.
“You know, this is the reason I’ve avoided sharing a room with you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you. But maybe I should have had you in my bed much sooner. Sleeping with you in my arms has been one of the best sleeps I’ve had for as long as I remember. And if this gets to be a normal wakeup call, I’ll keep you in my arms morning and night.”
His fingers never stop teasing you, slowly rubbing your clit and running his fingers over your slit, spreading your slick over your cunt.
Arching your back, your hands move to cover both of his, wanting more of him.
“Geralt please, stop teasing me. Your cock feels so good against my ass but I want, need, you in me. Please.”
Nipping at your shoulder, Geralt growls lowly and lifts your leg over his thigh; you reach to wrap your hand around his cock, guiding him to your hole,
“Fuck, please Geralt!”
He sinks into your wet heat, you both let out loud moans. Geralt doesn’t move once he is fully seated in you; trying to keep control on let this last.
“Fuck me, please, fuck me hard.” you beg, squeezing your inner walls around him.
Your pleas break his restraints causing the Witcher to slam into you, setting inhuman pace. The room is filled with the sounds of screams and skin slapping together. Thrusting hard and deep he continues to squeeze and twist your nipple, rubbing your clit. The simulations are too much for you and before you can even process what is happening, a burst of white light flashed behind your eyes and you are letting out an ear piercing scream as your orgasm rushes over you.
You swear you must have passed out because the next thing you know, Geralt is running a cold cloth over your body, cleaning you and placing soft kisses over your body,
“Welcome back.” he laughs with a smug grin.
You roll your eyes, “shut up.”
He laughs, gathering you up in his arms and laying back down in bed. You rest your head on his chest and run your fingers through his chest hair.
“Why did it take us so long to do this?” you ask, nuzzling closer.
Geralt brushes you hair with his fingers, “Cause I’m stupid and thought it’d be better to keep my distance from you. But not any more. From now on there is a one bed, no clothes rule for us.”
“I think I can handle that!” you laugh.
Deep In The Meadow
Geralt x Reader
a/n: This fic was inspired by this creator’s drawing. I thought the idea was really adorable and the plot just kinda came together in my mind. So I hope you like it!!
word count: 2.1k
The breeze pushed against your face, causing the smell of wildflowers to surround you, lightening your heart after a heavy morning.
You awoke to the sound of pounding on your door and a bloody Geralt on your step, leaning against the doorway as he could barely stand. You had ushered him in quickly, stumbling under his weight. Tucking him into your bed, you had to work fast on healing his wounds. Afterwards he had fallen right to sleep and has rested ever since.
Feeling secure he would be alright, you headed out to gather more ingredients from your garden as healing him had used up an abundance of your readied stock.
Opening the door to your cottage, you keep your eye on Geralt’s sleeping form as you place down your baskets on the table. Crossing into your bedroom area, you seat yourself on the edge of the bed, looking over Geralt and the perspiration coating his face. You urge your heart to slow down as you watch him. He was alright. He was safe. You had saved him in time.
Geralt began to twitch and jerk, his brows furrowing deeply. You move closer to him in concern.
“Geralt?” You call out, your concern clouding all rational thought. And that’s what caused you to reach your hand out, preparing to move some hair out of his face. But Geralt’s eyes snapped open to see your hand darting out towards him and he reacted instinctively.
One hand clasped around your wrist and the other jerked out to wrap around your neck. Your eyes widened and you let out a yelp as Geralt lifted you and brought you down on the other side of the bed. His hand on your neck kept you from bouncing and his body was quick to hover over yours.
His eyes frantically moved around your face and they almost immediately calmed when he noticed it was you. But they soon widened again as he realized his hold on you and his hands loosened. You let out a few heavy pants.
“Good afternoon,” you greeted breathlessly. Geralt looked into your eyes and your heart picked up as his pupils dilated. Then he furrowed his brows into their usual position and let his forehead drop into your neck.
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, his voice partially muffled by your skin. You smiled softly, your hand coming up to run your fingers through his hair. A guttural rumble sounds from his throat.
“It’s alright, I’m used to it,” you try to assure him. Geralt was usually sleeping outside, not having enough coin to rent a room. He had to be vigilant. You couldn’t expect him to let down all his defenses when he was with you. You had learned not to startle him and an incident like that hadn’t happened in a long time. But your concern for him outweighed your own self preservation. Geralt shakes his head against your neck.
“You shouldn’t have to be used to it,” he argues, guilt and a fierce protectiveness seeping through his tone.
“I want to be,” you argue back, a little more sternly. Geralt was stubborn. You knew if he got any solid ideas about leaving you for your own protection, it would take a lot to convince him you wanted to be his. It took a strong voice to be heard over the raging thoughts in his head. Geralt went silent and you knew you had settled any thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Geralt said again, his body sagging into you more deeply. He was cold. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you tried not to think how close he had come to death.
“As you’ve said,” you state curtly. Geralt sighs and his hot breath contrasts greatly to his cold body, causing you to inhale shakily.
“For coming here. I shouldn’t have.” His words shake you out of your own dreadful thoughts as you process them. Your head rears back as you try and cast him an incredulous look.
“And why not? You were hurt,” you explain, your voice showing how ridiculous you thought he was currently being. His hand leaves your neck to dig deeply in your hair, clutching the strands close to your scalp as his other hand threads your fingers together, squeezing them tightly.
“I don’t wish to only come to you when I’m hurt,” he expresses lowly. You knew how vulnerable that one sentence made him feel as he was not used to such proclamations so you squeeze his hand back in return and press a kiss to his temple.
“Then you should stop by more often,” you say softly, a light smile on your face. Geralt grunts.
“I can’t. There are monsters to kill,” he says shortly. You click your tongue, rolling your eyes at his words.
“And they’ll still be there after spending a few days with me,” you explain the obvious. There would always be more monsters. But you would only have so much time with Geralt…
“Speaking of monsters…” Geralt began. His hands slipped out of your hair and your grasp before he started swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Loud and painful grunts sounded throughout your cottage as he tried to sit up straight. Your eyes widened.
“Oh no. No, Geralt. You are not leaving,” you say forcefully, getting up on your knees and shuffling around him and off the bed.
“I have work to do,” he says simply in return, bracing his hands on the edge. He hesitates to push. You’re swift to tug him back down, forcing a grunt out of him.
“Yes. You do. Healing, that is all the work you’re going to be doing today,” you order brutally. His eyes flicker up to meet your own as he sends you a look, silently questioning if he heard your tone correctly. When you remain staring at him, he cocks his head.
“I’ll heal fine on the ride,” he challenges. You raise a brow in return, your hands rising to sit on your hips.
“With all your wounds stretching and pulling as you ride roach? No way. You’re staying here,” you challenge back, back ridged in fear of him leaving and getting hurt again. You don’t think you could handle it if he went out there again so soon and got hurt.
“I can’t,” he resists again forcefully. You let out a desperate whimper and you step forward, sliding your hands up his arms, across his shoulders, and around his neck.
“Just for today, Geralt. Please, stay and let your wounds seal. At the very least. Stay with me, Geralt. Just stay,” you say, practically begging him at this point. Geralt gazes up into your eyes as if trying to read them. He looks over you for a few long moments before he lets out a long sigh. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his fingertips tickling your hairline.
“Alright. For you and you only. Know that I don’t give a damn about my wounds. I do this for you,” he says sternly, finishing off the statement with a firm nod. Your lips curl into a beautiful smile as you let your cheek fall into his hand.
“I know,” you breathe out, your heart fluttering as Geralt sends you a rare smile of his own.
“So… what is your post healing treatment plan?” He asks, removing his hand from your cheek to palm your hips and tug you towards him till you’re standing between his thighs. Your brows furrow.
“My what?” You ask, not understanding what he’s talking about. Geralt quirks up a brow at your confusion and he squeezes your waist with widening eyes.
“What are we going to do all day? Because if I’m going to remain a prisoner here, I will not be resting,” he states matter of factly. You let out a sharp laugh at the comparison.
“Prisoner, huh?” You ask, your voice teasing. Your hands reach out to hold his jaw and he responds by sending you what’s considered by Geralt to be a cheeky grin.
“Indeed. But the warden is quite agreeable,” he adds, pinching your leg. You yelp, jumping a little before narrowing your eyes and scrunching your nose at him.
You go to shoot back with a quip of your own when the perfect idea strikes you. A smirk is slow to form on your face. Geralt will hate it. But it will probably be the best thing you have ever done. With his white hair and sharp features, it will be marvelous.
“You know what, I think I have the perfect idea…” you say, trailing off. Geralt raises a brow but doesn’t say anything as you help him up from the bed and bring him out deeper in the meadow. It is there you suggest him letting you braid flowers into his hair as he soaks up the sun.
“No.” Is his immediate response. Your lip juts out, your hands threading together as you knee-walk closer to where he’s sitting.
“Oh, come on, Geralt, please,” you beg, hoping the look in your eyes is enough to convince him. He shakes his head, refusing to look at you and instead, looking down to fiddle with a flower next to him.
“I will not fight monsters with flowers in my hair,” he explains, his voice rougher than before as he refuses. You drop the look and the begging to send him a much more serious look.
“Well then luckily there will be none of that today!” You say strongly. Geralt pauses in playing with the flower. He looks up, meeting the hard expression you send him. You two are motionless as you stare off. You notice his jaw clenching the longer you meet his intimidating gaze. Eventually he loses, not being able to resist you.
“Fine,” he grits out. Your features immediately brighten, your eyes sparkling and your smile wide. You clap lightly as you move to sit behind him.
“You’re going to look dashing, my love,” you express dramatically, leaning over to kiss him soundly on the cheek. You feel his cheek warm under your lips but no color surfaces.
“I have no doubt…” he says, leaning back and relaxing enough for you to be able to work.
And work you do. You work silently and diligently, picking the perfect flowers from the ones surrounding you both. You twist and braid the flower stems, hiding them within his hair so only the petals are visible. With selected flower colors and a pattern, you make quick work of filling his hair with flowers in a way that was more than tasteful, it was beautiful.
You look between your work and Geralt as you braid. You notice the way his body relaxes further and further the longer your hands thread through his hair, occasionally massaging his scalp. You see the way his eyes are closed as he enjoys the quietness between you and the warmth of the sun on his skin. No lines between his brows and no natural frown on his lips.
He appeared to be in peace, more so than you had ever seen him. You couldn’t help but add a few extra flowers, if only to prolong the process for him. You didn’t want to disrupt the divine moment of serenity between you.
But eventually, you had to finish, braiding in the final flower. You breathe in deeply before moving to stand in front of him. You hear Geralt mumble a ‘huh’ and you feel bad for a moment as you realize he was close to falling asleep.
“Okay, I have finished! Come, come, look and see,” you urge, holding his hand and tugging on it lightly. Geralt stands, with your help, and the two of you make your way to a pond a few feet over. You both lean over, looking into the water. “What do you think?” You ask, looking at his reflection. Geralt remains silent as he stares at himself. You bite your lip in anticipation.
“I think monsters will quiver in fear at the sight of me,” he says with a small grin. He leans up and you follow, looking at his eyes and waiting for them to meet yours.
“That good, huh?” You ask with excitement in your voice as you bite down harder on your lip. Geralt’s grin widens as he watches you. He reaches out and pulls your lip away from the confines of your teeth.
“Certainly, darling. It’s wonderful,” he says fondly, looking entirely ethereal with the sun behind him, hitting his hair just right. You squeal, jumping out and curling your arms around his neck as you hug him as tightly as possible without hurting him.
“Oh, I knew you’d like it!” You exclaim, knowing that he may have hated the idea but he couldn’t deny the result was nice. Geralt’s arms encase you, holding you firmly against him and ignoring the sting of pain he felt while doing so. Because you were worth it.
“Yes, that’s it,” he replied knowing he would do anything just to make you smile at him.
The Path of Destiny Masterlist: A-Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story
Summary: Find your way through the Continent; your story depends solely on the choices you make.
Warning: some of the choices you make may result in 18+ content. By reading under the cut, you are acknowledging you are an adult and consent to the content below.
𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆
Geralt fingering you underneath your dress 👀
Geralt x !fem!reader
Warnings: smut, fingering, sex, a hint of fluff at the end ♥
Please leave a comment, reblog and like if you enjoyed 🌺
Sorry for any grammar mistakes, I wrote this at the Rehabilitation Center 🤭
Pure smut under the cut! No minors please!
You're at your small cottage, preparing some herbs for potions. Geralt came back from a long hunt yesterday at night and is still sleeping.
You're glad he came home without any injuries this time, but could tell he wasn't able to get much sleep. Therefore you decided not to wake him and let him rest.
Suddenly you feel someone standing close behind you.
"Geralt!", you jumped and smack playfully his chest with the back of your hand. A small laugh escapes his mouth, amused by your surprised face. "You didn't wake me up love", he says with his deep voice that's causing goosebumps down your spine. Geralt pulls you close to his body and kisses you softly.
"I thought, you could need some rest, love."
Geralt leans into another kiss, this one more passionate. His body presses against yours and his hand finds his way underneath your dress.
"You're not wearing any underwear?" A hungry and surprised smile growing on his face.
"Why should I? Last time I checked, it was my cottage and I live here. I can decide what I wear or not...", you respond with a devilish grin and drag his mouth back to yours.
Geralts rough but gentle hand continues its journey right up between your legs. When his fingers found your hot and wet folds, you granted his tongue excess to your mouth in a deep kiss. Your soft moan's got swallowed up by his hungry kiss.
His finger drawing small circles between your soft spot slowly back and forth.
"You're already so wet for me, love?" Geralt humms into your ear.
With his index finger and ring finger he softly glides along your lips while his middle finger strokes between your most sensitive spot, still in circular motion. His hips are pressed against one of your legs, and you can feel how hard he gets.
When you decide to place your hand on his hardness, a sudden hungry moan escapes Geralts throat and he begins to penetrate your wet cave with two fingers, first slowly gliding inside of you and then continued by fast pushingin and out. The grab of your hand tightens and you can feel his pumping dick. Your mind feels slowed down and it seems like time also slowed down as Geralt fingers you underneath your dress.
You begin to unbutton his pants.
"Geralt, Love...I want you", you beg.
His amber Eyes hungry of lust, meeting yours. With one fast motion he pulls you up, placing you on his hips and carries you to the bedroom. He places you down on the bed and put off his pants as you decide to only undress from the top of your favorite dress showing your bare breasts.
Geralt places himself on top of you, kissing you mindless as he places himself between your legs. His hand discovering and caressing your body up and down while his soft tip of his errection touches your clit. He kneads your breast softly, leaving wet kisses down your neck and covers your sensitive nipple with his lips, sucking and licking it gently.
With one motion he buries his big shaft inside of you, slowly enough for you to adjust but also fast enough to surprise you with the sensation. Geralts yellow eyes are filled up with pure lust and desire. He looks at you with worship, because he loves every single piece of you. With every slow push of his big cock inside your wet peach, he goes deeper and deeper, moaning with his rough voice into your mouth, your tongues fighting for dominance.
It did not take long until Geralt is slamming hard in and out of you, causing you to bury your fingernails into his muscular back. His moans driving you crazy and you can feel how close he is. You decide to tighten your pussy and Geralt responds with a deep grunt and grabs your hips to speed up and hitting a spot that makes you see stars. A few moments later, he cums inside of you with one hard slam and loud growl, that puts you over the edge yourself.
Geralt places his forehead on yours giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheek.
"I love you, y/n. I think I will stay for a while this time. I missed you." He grabs one of the fresh towels that you placed there the night before and starts cleaning you up a bit.
"I missed you too, love.", you say and cuddle into his chest as he lays down next to your body. Geralt wraps his arms around you and you lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of your skin touching as Geralt tells you his new stories from the road. <3
(i found these pictures on Pinterest, don't own any of these pictures)
SUMMARY: You catch a certain someone's eye at a festival in your village
PAIRING: Geralt x reader (2nd person POV /3 person POV)
WARNINGS: none, pure fluff, maybe a tiiiny pinch of angst?
A/N: neither beta'd or proofread, typos we're going down swingin'! This little drabble was inspired by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether and the picture she sent me of Geralt. Little note about the moodboard: it's only to give you an idea of the setting and overall mood, the reader is not described in my story.
WORD COUNT: no idea
TITLE: Sunshine Smile
Writers live off validation. If you liked it please like, comment and reblog 💕 thank you for reading 💖
The village square was bustling with life, already this early in the morning. The decorations had been already but up yesterday, children had watched the men work with wide eyes, asking their mothers how long now. "One more sleep," they had said, as you listened from your seat on the windowsill, a basket full of flowers next to you as you crafted your headpiece for the festival.
You had heard the excited talk of some girls too, as they went home from the tavern last night. "A bard! And he'll stay for tomorrow!" You were sure the whole village would dance until their feet were sore far into the next week.
As if suddenly waking from a trance, you push yourself up from the windowsill, where you watched the lively morning bustle, and rush over to your small closet, your dress for today already hanging on the door. The nicest dress you own, reserved for only weddings and well, village festivals. The shimmery skirt would catch the sunlight beautifully, you smile to yourself.
Not much later, you find yourself in the village square, browsing the stalls for a nice breakfast, a hard choice; the baker had gone overboard creating the most delicious pastries for today.
You keep on exploring, looking for your friends, a dance in your step, twirling from time to time to the song of the musicians playing at every corner. And then your hear him, the bard those girls had been gushing about last night. His voice luring you across the square towards the small makeshift but decorated stage like a siren song. You gaze up at him in awe, never had you heard a more beautiful voice.
You only snap out of your staring when you're rudely poked in the ribs.
"We've been looking for you everywhere!" your friend squeals and grabs you by the wrist. "Come on, let's go to the others! Let's dance!" She pulls you away, giggling.
The other girls shriek and hug when you reach them, before pulling you to dance. And you dance, twirling around to the bard's tunes with no care in the world.
- Third Person POV -
He doesn't know why she caught his eye the way she did. Maybe it was her dress, the shimmery skirt catching in the bright spring sun. Maybe it were the flowers weaved into her hair and into an intricate crown on her head. Or maybe it was her bright smile, the joy on her face and in her voice as she talked to the girls around her. He didn't know, but what he knew was that by merely watching her, his mood had lifted by a lot. She was sunshine incarnate.
When the bard told him about the festival in the village they'd pass, he was sceptical. He had no desire of staying at a place for longer than necessary. But he changed his mind so suddenly. When he saw her dancing, he was glad Jaskier somehow managed to talk him into staying.
This girl... A warm feeling bloomed in his chest and a small smile tugged at his lips as he watched her dance like only a careless girl from a village could. She doesn't know about the horrors of the wild and... At this moment, he was almost relieved. He doesn't know her. He probably wouldn't even talk to her for the duration of his stay, but he wanted to preserve her light at all costs. He wanted to protect her, care for her. Twirl her around the village square.
"No!" he scolded himself. Introducing himself to her would corrupt her innocence. She was the sun and he... he was a large dark cloud. His mere presence was a bad omen. His presence meant death, pain and violence. "To protect her, he must stay far away," he told himself. Even if it meant never seeing your beautiful smile again, which he found himself addicted to all of the sudden.
A small voice ripped him out of his thoughts.
"If that isn't the famous White Wolf!" she said. "I thought witchers were supposed to have no feelings, then why are you standing here with that smile on your face? I must say, it suits you."
His golden eyes focus on her, an inviting smile painted on her lips. He wants to respond, but nothing comes to mind.
"I figured you might be thirsty." She smiles up at the white haired witcher, and lifts her hand that holds a big tankard of ale.
"Thank you," he mutters, taking it from her. From you.
Shit! You weren't supposed to go to him. But maybe... Maybe he can have you and your light.
The horror and the wild
A/N: We’re BACK BABY! I’m sorry for the lackluster posting, but life happens, you know? Anyway, we’re back with prompts and I cannot say how much I’ve looked forward to this. THERE’S STILL PROMPTS LEFT ON THE LIST, SO GO CRAZY, MY LOVES!
Prompt: “You’re bleeding.” “Just a little.” “It’s a femoral artery, asshole.”
You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized something – the sky is the limit, and it would really help me out with my bills this month.
Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine, in particular), and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits because I am me and I have none.
GERALT OF RIVIA MASTERLIST
ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x female reader
Contains: language, mentions of fighting, mentions of blood, mentions of medical stuff, light fluff, a little angst, sexual tension, smut (MDNI), fingering, p in v, a little Feral!Geralt, crempie, unprotected sex, MASSIVE AGE GAP (because Geralt is truly an old dude), a little elder speech
The horror and the wild
You heard them before you saw them. The dull thuds of blades hitting soft bodies, the screeching of the nekkers and the grunts from a familiar voice; Geralt was out again.
It had been several months since you’d last seen him at Kaer Morhen, when you came to aid with the plants needed through winter. He had been gruff – as per usual – and pointed – also on par for him – and he had left in the dead of the night, despite not really talking to you. He was an arse, most of the time, but you understood him well enough to know it didn’t have anything to do with you, not really.
He was just like that. Jaskier had laughed loudly, when he finally figured out who you were, and had the time of his life seeing you verbally stepping on Geralt. Both of them liked it, you supposed. It had been for the almsot ten years, you had known Geralt.
You sighed and grabbed your own blade, crafted from Hattori after you helped him escape his death in Novigrad. It was a nice gesture, and the two-handed sword was one of beauty; the blade itself was slightly curved, carved with intricate symbols of protection, while the handle was wrapped in soft, black leather, the top of silver glinting in the sun. You loved it.
You rushed outside, trying to pinpoint where on earth the sounds were coming from, and to your horror, you realized that it wasn’t just male grunts and Nekkers screeching; no, the familiar clicks of endregas echoing around the woods. Damn it. He might be accomplished with swords, but if he was alone with both endregas and nekkers, he was going to die. You ran through the thicket, leaves and branches cracking under your weight, as you ran to the fight.
You had been right in coming – Geralt was breathing heavily, sweat pouring over his brows, his sword a flurry of silver.
“Fuck!” He grunted when a Nekker jumped his back and he shook it off, but you saw how tired he was. You jumped into action when you saw him falter for a moment, your blade slashing through bodies of nekkers, trying to reach him.
“Kind of you to… Umpfh… Join the fight.” He said through gritted teeth. You flashed him a smile, before swinging your sword behind him, catching an endrega on the soft spot between its plates. It tumbled to the ground, the acidic blood pooling under it.
It had been hard, long and far too dangerous, but the two of you had managed to get out nearly unscathed. You were bleeding from the head (thanks to the sharp talons of a nekker) and Geralt was hoppling behind you, dragging his left foot behind him, trying his best to keep up.
“Geralt?” You turned to look at him and noticed how pale he had gotten. You could see your hut from where you stood, but that didn’t matter to you right now. All that mattered was the way his hand came away from his thigh, covered in dark blood. You gasped and rushed to his side, hitching your arm around his waist – you were about a head and a half short than him, and you were sure that in any other situation, you both would have laughed at the absurdity of you trying to support him like this, but right now, all that mattered was him.
“Fuck.” You almost rolled your eyes at him and ordered him to keep pressure on the wound, dragging him to the hut. When you crashed inside, his skin had grown almost as grey as his hair, and he was breathing raggedly. You laid him in your bed and realized the situation was much worse than you had feared – red pooled under him too quickly for your liking, and the black pants had somehow covered just how much he was bleeding.
“You’re bleeding.” You said quickly, scrambling to find your medicines and the kit, you used to stich up wounds. It might not be the smoothest work, but it would do.
“Just a little.” You ripped his pants from his legs and groaned, feeling sick to your stomach at the sight of the open wound on his thigh, green and blue veins of venom spreading around it.
“It’s a femoral artery, asshole.” You replied dryly, before wetting cloth and proceeded to wipe it down. He clenched his jaw, when you began stitching quickly, adding bunches of your herbs and concoctions to the wound, that already had started slowly healing. Thank the Gods for mutant-genes.
“What the hell were you doing out there alone, Geralt?” You muttered under your breath, fingers stained red with his blood. It had stilled a lot since you stitched him up, and he was gaining some pallor back. He grunted and gratefully took the cup of water, you handed him.
“I didn’t get to tell you goodbye.” You scoffed.
“And a goodbye is worth your life, is it?”
“Maybe. In my defense, I didn’t expect to be attacked.”
“We’re in Velen, you oaf, there’s always a chance to be attacked here.” You said with a huff, wiping your hands on your pants and tying the bandage around his thigh firmly, before standing up. His fingers shot out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to your seated position.
“I…” You found his eyes, and the familiar warmth you always felt when you were around him, returned. You saw the apology in his eyes, and shook your head.
“It was fine, Geralt. You had to find Yennefer, remember?” You said slowly, trying to keep the lump in the back of your throat, back. It had shattered your heart that he apparently had been so enamored with the sorceress, but you wouldn’t stand in his way. He deserved some good in life. Ciri was one, but if he wanted Yennefer… He should have her.
“I found her.” He said slowly. “And we broke the curse from the djinn.” You swallowed.
“I didn’t know there was a djinn to take into account.” He smiled softly, one of the rare smiles, that could melt ice – it was like years had been removed from him, when he smiled like that.
“There was. Now, there isn’t.”
“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. “You should relax for a moment, Gwynnbleid, or I’ll have your head.” He nodded and reluctantly let your wrist go. It felt oddly cold.
“Don’t leave.” He mumbled under his breath.
“I would never.” Your cheeks heated under his gaze.
“I’ll draw you a bath.”
It took longer than normally to draw the bath. You kept adding things, simply to avoid looking at him again, but when you finally finished and gestured to it, it became clear that he couldn’t get in on his own. Fuck.
“Hold me, I’ll support you.” You mumbled and gently tried to help him off the bed – he followed pliantly, leaning on you for support, since his left leg didn’t work at all at the moment, and when you reached the tub, another issue became clear. His clothes.
His pants were ripped already, since you had ripped them to gain access to his wound, so they would be quick work, but also leave him almost naked. You sat him down on the wobbly stool next to him and undid the strings on the side of his armor-plates with shaking hands, staring intently at them. The armor fell loose around him, and you gingerly removed the plates from his chest and abdomen, trying desperately not to think about how warm he was under your fingers. As soon as the armor had fallen away, you began unbuttoning the buttons on his undershirt, eyes trained on them as if they were the single most interesting thing in the world.
“You’re blushing.” It was an observation.
“Well, you’re getting naked.” You said, unbuttoning the last button and lifted the shirt from his waist, letting it slide past his chest – noting the scars and chiseled abs and chest, which didn’t dampen the heat in your cheeks – and his head, before flinging it in the wooden bucket you had filled with soapy water to wash the grime away from his clothes.
“Thank you, me feainn.” He mumbled. You swallowed thickly.
“Always.” You began undoing the straps of his pants and kept your mind at ease; it was very damn difficult to keep focus on anything but him, and you nearly moaned when you saw he was naked under the pants. You were certain his heightened sense of everything made it very clear how you felt at the moment, but if he noticed, he didn’t let on.
“Stand.” You asked gently, turning your head away from his groin. He grabbed the windowsill and stood on shaky legs, as you tugged the legs (well, leg) down and finally removed the leather pants fully from his body.
“I…” You cleared your throat. You were a professional. “Hold my shoulder, I’ll help you into the bath.” When had it gotten so hot in here? His skin was burning against your shoulder, and his scent permeated your senses completely, leaving you shaking just as bad as he was. He sat down with a soft sigh, that went straight to your core, and you drew a deep breath, before handing him a bar of soap.
“I’ll wash your clothes and see if I can mend your pants.” You needed to get out of the room.
It took almost a week for him to gain enough strength to walk again. The venom – which you both deduced had been from an endrega – hadn’t spread too much, but it had been enough in combination with the wound to render him, in his words, utterly useless. You didn’t mind his presence in your little hut. It felt warm and tight, but in a way, that just seemed right. When he did begin to walk again, you had joked that you needed to raise the roof of your hut, since the top of his head constantly hit the supporting beams, and he had a permanent bruise (which was a feat, since the Witcher healed in no time) just over his brow, because he kept bumping into the doorframe. It was almost endearing.
“You seem to be better.” You stated as you watched him walk around the hut, piling wood into the hearth.
“I am.” He said, lighting the fire. You sat on your bed, crossing your legs.
“I suppose this means that you’re leaving soon.” You smiled sadly. “I cleaned your swords, by the way.” He frowned at you.
“Why would I leave?” You shrugged.
“You always do. The road calls you more than the whisper of the forest calls me.” He knelt down in front of you, and despite being on his knees, and you being raised above the ground on your bed, his face was still level with yours. Tall, handsome man.
“I am not leaving. At least, not until we have talked.”
“Talked? Geralt, you don’t talk.” He cocked an eyebrow at you.
“First time for everything.” You licked your lips, trying to breathe through your mouth to evade the scent of him, because it would settle in your bones and never leave you again – it would simply make you yearn for him, and you couldn’t handle that.
“Y/N.” for the first time since you found him the woods, he spoke your real name. Normally, he’d call you minne, me blath, or me feainn – you tried not to let those get to your head. Your eyes snapped to his amber ones, and you made the mistake of inhaling through your nose. The scent, that was inherently Geralt was intoxicating, but in combination with the lemon soap, you normally used, it was sinful.
“I am not about to leave you. We should…” He licked his lips, and you felt your heart skip out of your chest.
“Geralt.” You interrupted. “You should go find Yennefer. Ciri, too. They must be missing you.”
“Ciri knows I came to find you. Yennefer…” He sighed. “Yennefer is currently pissy with me. Understandable, though not justified.”
“How so?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. His fingers rested right next to your knee, and they twitched, almost as if he wanted to put his hand on your knee but restrained himself.
“The djinn. It created a bond between us.” You nodded. You knew the story well, having had it told countless of times – Jaskier hated it, you disliked it, but Geralt seemed content with it. “I asked the djinn to undo it.” You nearly choked on your own spit.
“That’s why Yen is angry with me. Hurt, I guess.” He said slowly, his amber eyes searching yours. “I… Didn’t feel anything when it was lifted. I thought…” He sighed. “Yennefer thought it was more than a curse from a djinn. It was for her. I have love for her, but not the love she expected nor wanted.” Your mind was reeling. He wasn’t… In love?
“You know I’m not good with words, me minne.” He grunted.
“Try. I need… I need to know, please, Gwynnbleid.” You echoed his elder speech.
“I didn’t have the love to give her, because I had already, unwillingly, and very unknowingly until a few weeks ago, given my heart and all it possessed to someone else.”
“Unwillingly?” you stammered.
“Yes. I have always been content with being alone. I have never been lonesome, and since Jaskier came along and then Ciri, I hardly think I’ll ever be lonesome, even if I tried.” You laughed a little. That much was true.
“But… The last visit to Kaer Morhen…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I saw you, finally. For the longest time, you’ve been in the back of my mind, which was irksome at best, distracting at worst.” He smiled. “And you just stood there, talking to Lambert and Eskel, while Vesemir laughed along, and something just…” He gestured to his chest.
“And I had seen you before, several times over the years, but I finally saw you. You were under the window, and the sun shone down on you, lighting you up. And I knew I couldn’t stay. Not at Kaer Morhen, nor could I stay with Yennefer.” You blinked three times. This was the most you had heard Geralt speak in the ten years you had known him.
“And we have always been friendly. You’ve helped me more times than I can count. But… I never truly saw you.”
“Geralt, I don’t…”
“Just… Let me get this off my chest, I beg you.” He pleaded. You nodded, and out of instinct, you lifted his hand to your knee, let it rest there and intertwined your fingers with his. A jolt of warmth ran through your fingers to your heart. He glanced at your hands and smiled before he looked back at you.
“I don’t expect you to return any affection stemming from a 100-year-old man, but I wanted… I don’t know. To tell you. I would stay if you asked. I’d be content with making concoctions and weed your garden for the rest of my life, me feainn.”
Your mind was reeling.
“I…” You swallowed thickly. “Didn’t know you were a hundred years old.”
“105, if we’re being pedantic about it.” You grinned.
“That’s quite the dexterity you have for a 105-year-old, Geralt.” He chuckled, but didn’t answer, simply waiting for you.
“You know…” You looked at your intertwined fingers. “I’ve always thought myself as somewhat of a lone soul. At least, until I met Jaskier because that dolt won’t leave anyone alone.” Geralt hummed in response. “I just… I met you when I was shy of 18, and you seemed to have been whatever my world revolved around. I never wanted to tell you, because you had too much on your own, Child Surprise, Yennefer, Jaskier, the life you live. I didn’t want to interfere.”
“You wouldn’t. You would be the sun, I would orbit.” He said softly.
“As you are for me.” It was all you could say. There wasn’t much more to say, at any rate. He knew.
“Y/N…” his voice was pained. “What would you have me do?” you looked at him. His eyes had darkened slightly, and you dislodged your hand from his to cup his cheek. His stubble scratched your palm slightly, and it made you shudder.
“I wish for you to do what you want, Geralt. I’m not in a position to ask or tell you what to do or what to want, because your life, your choices are yours and yours alone. If you want to stay, you can. If you want to go back on the road, you can. If you want me to come with you, I will.” You whispered.
He didn’t answer but took the beat of a heart to lunge at you, his lips descending hungrily on yours. You whimpered and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as closely, you could. It was addictive, the way he kissed. It was almost animalistic, teeth and tongue, like he wanted to devour you – you didn’t mind it one bit, and moaned when his teeth tugged on your lips, earning you a small growl in the back of his throat. You didn’t know when or how, but you were on your back, your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to snap your hips up to meet him, and he smiled against the kiss, his fingers quickly undoing the skirt, you had been wearing. If you had any say in it, none of you would be wearing clothes ever again.
You were nude under him in less than a blink of the eye, your nipples pebbled; he grunted and removed his now-mended pants, pushing them to his thighs. You felt his fingers first, dipping between your folds, and you surrendered yourself completely to the feeling of his calloused pads toying with you; you were moaning and writhing under him, as his fingers dipped inside of you, curling upwards with a soft moan that echoed your own. Your back arched, and your fingers pulled his face back to meet yours, kissing him deeply as he drew pleasure from you with every stroke of his long, thick fingers.
The fingers, that normally dealt pain and death to the monsters of the world, brought you pleasure beyond anything you had experienced before. It was like fire was licking your very soul, your entire being captivated by the slight movements of his fingers, as he pumped them in and out of you. You kissed him desperately, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging intertwined with the fire, that licked gently against you.
“Geralt, I…” You moaned against his lips. Your hips rolled to meet his fingers.
“I’ve got you, me feainn.” He whispered, speeding up slightly and you came undone. It was like a collision of planets went off in you, spreading their warmth from the tips of his fingers through your entire body. Your cells were screaming in pleasure, and you had no control over yourself, legs shaking as he fucked you through your orgasm.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from you, and kissed you again, lining his cock up with your wet entrance. You were begging for him in whispers, letting them wash over him in the same way he had washed over you.
“Y/N…” He moaned your name as he entered you, groaning when he sank completely into you, and you understood now, why the women of the taverns spoke in such reverie about him. You could cum just from this, his stillness, because he filled you so much, it was near impossible to think he’d have room to move.
“Fuck, Y/N…” He groaned and slowly drew back and snapped his hips, allowing himself to pump in and out of you. You whimpered at his thick cock dragging against your walls when he found a pace, his cock sliding against you, your little hut filled with the wet sounds of your bodies meeting.
“Please, Geralt…” You moaned his name. “More.” His eyes snapped to yours, molten gold meeting you, and he growled. You clenched around him at the sound.
“I don’t. Please.” You whimpered again and rolled your hips.
He lost control of himself, it would seem; he growled again and buried his head in the crook of your neck, his teeth finding the sensitive spot along your neck, biting down and marking you, his hips speeding up wildly and his fingers gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. You mewled and tried to keep up with him, but he refused to let you do anything but take it, and at this moment, you were more than willing.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He mumbled against your skin, leaving wet trails from his lips. You couldn’t think, speak or even fully comprehend anything but the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of you.
Your orgasm hit you at the same time as he buried himself deeply, his head nudging your cervix and a growled mine fell from his lips. You tensed like a bowstring, your back arching, pushing your chest flush with his. He stuttered when your wet pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper, and let himself go.
With a string of curses and your name in elder speech, he filled you with his spend, fucking into you hard enough to make it spill from the sides. You were moaning through a coarse throat, having screamed yourself nearly mute.
“I… Sorry.” He mumbled, kissing your neck, jaw and finally, your lips softly.
“What on earth are you apologizing for?” You said with a small laugh.
“It was too fast.” You grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled him up – he whined, and you stored that information for later – to make him look at you.
“It was perfect.”
“Next time, I’ll make sure you get your pleasure at least three more times.” You chuckled and kissed him as he slowly pulled out. He fell to your side, still panting slightly.
“I don’t think I’d be able to go three more times.” You mumbled, wrapping your arm around his waist and pulled yourself flush against him.
“Ha, that wasn’t a question. It was a promise, me minne.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head.
“On one condition.” You answered.
“Hm?” You smiled against his chest.
“We leave this place. Take me with you on your adventures.”
“Death sentences, you mean.”
“Death, adventure… I’m sure Jaskier would call it all the same.” He chuckled, and the sound warmed you more than a crackling hearth ever could.
“Speaking of Jaskier… I left him at Cunny of the Goose.” You grinned.
“He’s fine, he’ll get to woo the ladies and the men with his songs of woe.” You frowned. “Actually, why did you come here? I haven’t seen a call for a Witcher for a while.” He kissed the top of your head.
“Is it not obvious?” He lifted your head with two fingers under your chin, his eyes boring into yours.
** Minne: Love Me Blath: my flower me feainn: my sun
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Break Apart - A Geralt of Rivia/Reader smut drabble.
Another for the 4K celebration! I can’t find who asked for it, though!
Words - 493
Warnings - Smut. Under 18? Come back when you’re old enough! This isn’t for minors.
“I haven’t even touched you yet and already you’re this wet?”
Those were the words spoken to you by your Witcher, after you’d walked to him, invaded your undergarments with your hand and then pushed your slippery fingers into his mouth. Just seeing him again caused your desire to ignite, needing him, leading you to lay him back against a thick patch of moss and climb astride him, grinding yourself against the bulge in his britches.
It’s always like this after he’s been away.
Undoing his shirt as you share hungry kisses, his groans arrowing right to your cunt, so soppy and wet for him, Geralt literally tearing your undergarments beneath your dress, his need for you potently urgent. The fire of his desire is displayed right there in his eyes, staring at you intently before his mouth meets yours once more in a syrupy exchange of lust.
Sitting up beneath you, his lips move to your neck, sumptuous kisses scattered, his fingers quick and clever at your back, unfastening the buttons of your dress. “Take it off. I need you naked.” He murmurs, pulling at the fabric while you lift your arms, swathed by the layers of skirts as he eagerly tugs it over your head, rough hands touring your softness as he lies back, appreciating your body.
Just viewing him beneath you, glittering amber eyes, stubbly jaw, wide biceps that your hands clutch upon, his broad chest heaving, you feel drunk on him. Every last inch of his body is utter heavenly perfection, but none more so than the enormous phallus you keenly impale yourself onto, watching his eyes close, his brows knitting together, a soft grunt emanating his throat.
A mist of lust creeps over your skin as you’re split wide around his girth, goosebumps prickling up over your body, your nipples pebbling, his big hands chasing the flush as he watches you intently, so full of him, the breath knocked from your lungs when he moves to dagger you entirely, your summit breached, his cock evoking tingles to soar up your spine.
“Fuck.” He grunts, and his voice all gravel, watching your soaking plush gloss his cock thickly as you move upon him with unfettered vigour, a flush of pleasure beginning to wind in your core, like a small tornado starting to whirl, your fingers flexing at his sides as he moves beneath you with ardent purpose.
He has you softly shuddering, each stroke of his cock along your molten walls evoking shudders, the exquisite deepness of him filling and emptying you making pleasure burn through your veins, tingles soaring over your body. The friction becomes tighter as you clamp upon him, Geralt fighting the hard clutch of your cunt, gripping your waist and arrowing you harder, smirking as you mouth opens and your voice breaks apart upon his name.
“Cum for me, my darling.”
And you do. And it’s pure magma.
Of course, he’d never deliver anything less.
A/N - Did you like it? Please do show me with a comment and/or reblog! :)
I challenge you to write a fic in ten sentences!! 😊
It's been a hot minute since I wrote for the Witcher, so here you go darling x
-> Geralt x GN!Witcher!Reader
"What am I going to do?" he asks, golden eyes heavy with sleep and threatening to close as the seconds drift by. The hand - your hand - in his hair certainly isn't helping, carding out tangles and picking out leaves after a long day's travel.
"You're going to guide her," you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice, "train her, scold her if need be... And love her just as a father should."
His grip tightens in the bedsheets when you accidentally catch your fingers in a knot, but he doesn't so much as wince. Instead, his mind wanders to what's to be in the months and years ahead of them.
The princess with ashen hair sleeps soundly in the next room - though it wouldn't surprise either of you if she was pouring over some ancient tome she found in the library instead.
"A father, you say..." Geralt sighs, partially exasperated with the notion, and partially content with it as you begin to lay down next to him in the bed, "A weighty title indeed."
"Perhaps," you whisper as you reach out, cupping his face and prompting him to finally close his eyes, "but it's a title not often given to people like us - the Law of Surprise truly has a sense of humour. And if you'll have me, I'll be at your side every step of the way."
The corners of his lips quirk upwards, assuring you that he heard your words and is grateful for them.
It’s been a hot minute since I came in with a prompt so how about “kissing me good night when you find me asleep in bed, thinking you can sneak past me but with one eye open i pull you into bed, wrapping my hands are you” with everyone’s favorite brooding Witcher?
Your wish is my command 👀
Warnings: GN!reader is a midwife so brief mention of childbirth
The cottage was silent when you slipped inside, the only light coming from the dying fire in the corner. As soon as the door was locked behind you, a heavy sigh slipped from your lips, your body relaxing for the first time in hours now that you were finally home.
The birth had been a long and difficult one. It was the woman’s first baby and the child had been lying in an awkward position, prolonging the labour and exhausting the woman. It had taken all of the knowledge and skills that you had gained over your years as the village midwife to get both mother and child through the night alive, but you had succeeded. The night had ended with the beautiful sound of the babe’s first cry, and you had been content to leave the new family in their own company and return to your own home.
As you hung your cloak by the door, you faltered at the sight of a longer, black cloak already hanging on the peg. On the floor beneath it, a pair of worn boots and a sword in a scabbard leaned against the wall. Despite your exhaustion, a smile tugged at your lips.
It had been nearly three months since he had last come to stay with you. You knew what you were getting into when you fell in love with a Witcher but it didn’t make his frequent absence any less painful. Shedding your own boots, you padded through to your bedroom to check that you were not in fact dreaming and that he had truly come back to you.
Sure enough, you pushed your creaky bedroom door open to reveal Geralt- sound asleep in your bed, his ashen hair spread out around his head like a halo on your pillow. Your bed looked pitifully small with an enormous Witcher occupying it but you knew from experience that there would be just enough room for you to squeeze in beside him.
Walking on your tiptoes so as not to disturb him, you bent over the bed to press your lips to his brow, your fingers carefully combing his hair back from his face. Your lips lingered on his weathered skin, knowing that your time with him would likely be brief as it always was. There was no telling which kiss would be the last one for several months.
As you straightened up in the darkness, you didn’t notice one golden eye opening as your fingers shifted to leave his hair.
A startled cry left your lips as a hand closed suddenly around your wrist and pulled you off balance, toppling you towards the bed. You didn’t have time to throw out your arms to brace yourself to land, but it turned out that it wasn’t necessary as a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and held you to a solid, warm chest.
“I thought you were sleeping,” you grumbled half-heartedly, settling into your new position, “How long were you watching me creeping about like an idiot?”
“Not very long,” Geralt replied, amusement seeping through the tiredness in his tone as he adjusted his arms around you and added: “It was adorable.”
You huffed at his teasing words but couldn’t help the way you cuddled into his arms, burying your face in the warmth of his neck and breathing in the feeling of having him back. Your eyes began to droop shut as your weary bones melted into him, his nose nuzzling along your hairline.
“You smell like birth,” he told you in a low voice.
“Mm, you smell like Roach,” you whispered back sleepily, and he chuckled.
“I’ll bathe in the morning,” he reassured you.
You lifted your head to peer at him in the darkness.
His soft smile was just visible in the moonlight as he lifted one hand to gently trace the curve of your cheek with his fingertips.
“With you,” he confirmed.
Geralt of Rivia x Reader [Female]
Summary: Destiny can not be changed. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. No matter how hard you try to prove otherwise.
"You are a mysterious creature, [Y/N]," Geralt whispered in the silent night.
"No, I am just a human." She sadly smiled and looked over the calm lake. "An ordinary human being."
You never believed in destiny, until one night your life changed. In a strange universe, alone in a forest full of monsters, you found him bleeding and barely breathing. Little did you know that he wasn't the only one that needed saving.
Warnings: blood, violence, mentions of rape, anger, angst, swearing, smut, fluff, stubborn Geralt, medical talks, age gap [the reader is 24]. More warnings will be given before each part.
!!! If you feel uncomfortable with any of the previously mentioned things, do not read further for your own good. !!!
Status: IN PROCESS
Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.
You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.
Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Language, panic attack
Everyone else went back inside, but you remained outside and trained.
Being inside meant seeing your brothers medallion hanging off the tree. It meant sitting at the table with your Eskels empty seat beside you... there were so many things that you didn't even want to think about, let alone face.
So, you remained outside.
You trained and practiced with your sword, doing anything to keep your mind busy and focused.
For a while, you trained on top of the wooden posts. Swinging your sword as you stepped from post to post, balancing on top of them.
You weren't sure how much time had past before you jumped to the ground and continued practicing, weaving and ducking between the posts, swinging and hitting them with your blade.
You made a mental note to sharpen your sword after this. The wood no doubt blunting it with each strike, but you kept going.
"Ciri told me what you did for her." Geralt's voice suddenly called out.
You silently cursed yourself for not noticing his presence earlier. You were a Witcher, you should have heard him coming from a mile away.
"So, thank you." He added, walking in your direction.
"She's a good kid."
That was all you said, not even looking at him as you continued to practice with your sword.
You could hear Geralt walking closer, but you ignored him, keeping your attention focused on what you were doing.
Swing, duck, jab, repeat. Swing, duck, jab, repeat.
You said the words in your head as you executed the actions when Geralt suddenly stepped in front of you. He drew his own sword with seconds to spare as he blocked your blade with his own, inches from his face.
You quickly took a step back, eyeing him cautiously.
What the fuck did he think he was doing? You could cut his damn head off. What was he thinking?
"Y/N, I need to talk to you." He said, lowering his sword as he spoke.
You shook your head, "we already talked. Now leave me alone."
You ignored him, swinging your sword at the nearest wooden post. But, before you could hit the post, he deflected it with his own sword and stepped in front of you.
He grunted, shaking his head.
"Fine." You responded, lowering your sword. "If you're not going to leave me alone, then you're going to be useful."
Before he had a chance to finish that sentence, you swung your sword at him, not holding back. Geralt only just managed to duck out the way in time, the tip of the blade narrowly missing him.
A surprised look flashed across his face before he raised his own sword, realising what you wanted before the two of you started to fight.
You ducked and weaved between the wooden posts, dodging Geralts sword while you swung your own which he easily deflected.
The cold winter sky above you started to snow as the two of you fought. The sound of your swords clinking and clashing echoing across the mountain as snowflakes melted in your hair.
Geralt swung his sword, but you easily bought your own up, blocking his attack. Almost too easily.
"Don't go easy on me." You growled.
He ducked around behind one of the wooden posts and shook his head.
That was bullshit and you both knew it.
You might be good, but Geralt was better. You knew that. You've known that since you were kids.
So, he should easily beat you right now, but he wasn't. He was holding back, and that just made you angry.
"Fight me properly!" You shouted, swinging your sword at him.
Geralt easily deflected it, taking a step to the side. But, he didn't make any move to attack back.
He was just defending your shots. He wasn't even trying to fight back.
You grunted in frustration, taking another swing at him with full force, repeating the action again, and again as Geralt easily deflected your blade each time.
You swung your sword at him, but he ducked out the way just in time, your blade slamming into one of the wooden posts with a crack.
You yanked your sword out the wooden post with easy and spun around about to attack again when Geralt suddenly swung his own sword.
The sudden action took you by surprise as you quickly raised your sword, blocking his attack.
Geralt took a step back, lowering his sword, giving you a chance to recover.
"Don't go easy on me!" You shouted, your grip tightening around the handle.
"As you wish."
Suddenly, Geralt charged at you, slamming his sword against yours, knocking the weapon from your grasp as you grunted in surprise.
A second later, Geralts blade was against your neck and you quickly took a step away, your back hitting the wooden post behind you.
"Are you done?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
Your growled in frustration and kicked him in the stomach, forcing Geralt to stumble back a few steps, his sword lowering from your neck.
In an instant, you pulled your dagger from the inside of your boot and attacked him.
Geralt quickly sheathed his sword as he raised his arm, blocking your strike before he grabbed your wrists.
You tried to yank your arms free, but his grip was too tight forcing you to drop the dagger before he pushed you back against the post again.
His fingers were still wrapped around your wrists as he lifted your arms, pinning them above your head.
Eventually, you stopped trying to fight, knowing it was useless.
Neither of you said anything for a moment.
Geralt keeping your arms pinned above your head, both of you breathing heavily, your faces only inches apart.
For an endless span of time, the two of you just stared at each other before Geralt slowly lent forward.
You knew what he was about to do as he glanced down at your lips giving you a chance to pull away, but you didn't move and suddenly his lips were against yours.
Closing your eyes, you started to kiss him back before you realised what you were doing and quickly pulled away.
You shouldn't be kissing him.
He broke your heart, you couldn't do this... you couldn't.
Geralt instantly took a step back as if he could read your mind and let go of your wrists like your skin had burnt him.
"Sorry. I don't know why I did that." He apologised, looking down at the ground.
You didn't say anything as you stared at him before shaking your head.
Were you going to regret this? Probably.
Would you enjoy it though? Absolutely.
"Shut up." You instructed, taking a step towards him.
Geralt frowned, lifting his head, those beautiful golden eyes locking with yours. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards you, your lips clashing with his.
For a second, Geralt didn't move, his body tense in shock before he melted into your kiss.
He lifted his hand, cupping the side of your face and deepened the kiss.
"I need you to know something." He whispered against your lips as he pulled away, resting your foreheads together. "I never stopped loving, Y/N. Never."
You closed your eyes, feeling tears staring to rise in your eyes.
"I'm sorry, for everything. I was a fool. I'm so sorry."
"Are you only saying this because Yennefer's dead and I'm still here?" You asked worriedly, keeping your eyes closed, not wanting him to see your tears.
"No. Of course not. Y/N, look at me."
He pulled away, hooking his thumb under your chin and tilting your head up, forcing you to look at him.
His expression softened when he saw the unshed tears in your eyes and he sighed.
"I love you, Y/N. Not Yennefer. Not anyone else. It's you. It's always been you and I know that doesn't make up for what I did. But, I need you to know that my love for you... it never went away."
A silent tear trickled down your cheek at his words as he lifted his hand, brushing it away with his thumb.
"I should hate you. I want to hate you." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "But, I still love you."
A faint smile spread across his lips at your words before you leant forward and captured his lips with yours, kissing him again.
"Aye! We knew you'd would get back together!" Lamberts voice suddenly shouted.
The two of you quickly pulled away from each other to find your fellow Witcher standing in the doorway of the building behind you.
"Dinner is ready whenever you two are done making out!"
Lambert stared at the two of you with a shit eating grin on his face before he disappeared back inside.
"It feels like we're kids again." You commented, looking over at Geralt who picked your sword up from the ground.
"Hmm." He nodded in agreement, holding your sword out towards you. "Remember the time Lambert and Eskel walked in on us in bed together?"
"Oh, God." You mumbled, sheathing your sword as you thought back to that memory.
You were just teenagers fooling around when your twin and Lambert had walked straight into Geralts room and saw everything.
Geralt, to his credit, was quick to react and covered you with the blanket instantly, leaving himself exposed as he shouted at them to leave.
The boys had given the two of you so much shit for that, and you had threatened to cut their balls off if they told Vesemir.
"My brother hated you for months after that." You pointed out with a soft chuckle.
For a moment, you were so caught up in the memories of the past that you forgot Eskel was gone, until it suddenly hit you and the smile on your face vanished.
Eskel was gone.
You had killed him.
"You're brother loved you more than anything." Geralt said, noticing the sadness wash over you. "He was ready to fight me the other day when he heard what I did to you."
You smiled sadly, remembering when he had tried to throw a punch at Geralt earlier.
Your brother wasn't stupid. He knew he wouldn't have been able to beat Geralt in a fist fight, but he didn't seem to care.
"I'm sorry you were forced to do what you had to do."
You glanced back at Geralt, mustering up a smile that you knew didn't quite reach your eyes.
"So am I."
That night you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you listened to rats squeak quietly in your room.
You weren't sure when, but you must have eventually fallen asleep because before you knew it, you were waking up screaming.
Images of Eskels dead body were seared into your brain as you sat up in bed, your blankets sticking to the cold sweat coating your skin.
You were vaguely aware of how fast your heart was beating. You could hear it thumping in your ears above your screams before you quickly covered your mouth with trembling hands, trying to muffle your cries.
Hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you sat there, your breathing ragged. It was too quick, especially for a Witcher, but you couldn't stop it.
You knew you were panicking. You knew it had been a nightmare, but that hot terror was still soaring through your veins and it wasn't just a nightmare.
Eskel was still dead.
Your nightmare was based on the truth and that hurt more than anything.
You weren't sure when, but Geralt was now kneeling down beside your bed.
When did he come in?
His hand hovered over your arm like he wasn't sure if he should touch you right now or not.
Your entire body was still trembling, fresh tears trickling down your face as Geralt started at you worriedly.
You wanted to tell him that you were okay, that he could leave, but you couldn't get any words out.
"You're safe, Y/N. Just breathe, okay? Breathe."
You could heart Geralts words, but it was like you were underwater and you couldn't do anything to stop yourself from drowning.
You were aware that you were hyperventilating and working yourself up even more, but you couldn't stop.
"Copy me. Just copy my breathing, okay?" Geralt instructed, grabbing your hand and resting it over his chest as he breathed in deeply.
You tried to mimic his deep breaths, but only succeeded in a shallow gasp as you squeezed your eyes shut.
"You're okay. Just in... and out." He coached, still holding your hand to his chest as you took a deep shuttering breath in and out. "That's it. Just in and out."
Geralt continued to take deep slow breaths as you copied him, your breathing slowly starting to even out.
Suddenly, the door to your room burst open and your eyes shot open just as Lambert barged into the room with his sword. But, he froze when he saw Geralt kneeing in front of your bed.
"Oh. I- uh, heard screaming." He said, realisation washing over him as he began to walk back out the room but stopped and looked over at you, noticing how pale your skin had turned and the tear stains on your cheeks. "You okay, sis?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment.
"Nightmare. I got her." Geralt answered, realising that you couldn't say anything.
Lambert nodded in understanding, giving you a gentle smile before he walked out the room, quietly closing the door behind himself.
Geralt looked back over at you as you took a few more shaky breaths. Hating the unshed tears that were in your eyes.
"Shit. Sorry. Fuck." You cursed softly once you had gotten yourself under control, removing your hand from his chest and covering your face. "Did I wake you?"
"No. Ciri had a nightmare earlier, I was already up."
You chuckled weakly, "guess you're on nightmare duty tonight. Lucky you."
Geralt hummed in response, but didn't move from beside you as you kept your head in your hands, not wanting to look at him.
Nope. Not even remotely okay, but were you going to admit that? Absolutely not.
Geralt didn't say anything after that and you were pretty sure he saw straight through your lie, but he didn't call you out on it.
He was good like that. He understood not wanting to talk after nightmares, God knows all you Witchers were riddled with demons in your sleep.
"Do you want me to leave?" He asked eventually, breaking the silence.
You looked over at him and properly looked at him for the first time, only just realising that he was shirtless.
Had he been shirtless this whole time? How the fuck did you miss that little detail? Or big detail because those biceps of his had gotten bigger since the last time you had seen him.
You shook your head at his question and to yourself, trying to stop that train of thought.
"Stay." You answered, hating how fragile your voice sounded. "Please."
Geralt simply nodded as he stood up and climbed over you on the bed, laying beside you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and instinctively pulled you into his chest.
You didn't try to protest as you curled up beside him, your head resting against his chest as he held you.
You allowed yourself to let your guard down and relax for the first time in what felt like years, knowing you were safe in Geralts arms.
You had missed this. You had missed being with him so much, it physically hurt and you didn't even realise that you were crying again until Geralts arms tightened around.
"It's okay. You're safe, little one." He whispered, kissing the top of your head. "You're safe."
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
Artistic Reimagining - Geralt of Rivia
You and Jaskier have been traveling about the Continent together for...well, forever it feels like. Just when it seems you’ve written a song about everything, you make the acquaintance of a Witcher and inspiration strikes! Though, Geralt seems to regard your artistic voice with indifference, borderline disdain. You’re starting to take his comments personally.
“I like that, it’s just jaunty enough, I think.”
“That’s not how it happened.”
You glanced up at Geralt who, perched on Roach’s back, seemed as tall as the cliff faces around you. His amber eyes were squinted in your and Jaskier’s direction, watching as he often did. Always so alert. Though you surmised it was a habit that came with the Witcher title. But the aversion in his furrowed brow and frown? That was all Geralt.
“Where’s your newfound respect?” He asked, forcing your focus back to his words.
“Respect doesn’t make history,” Jaskier countered before he began to sing again. Geralt stayed still, fists tightening around Roach’s reins as your fellow bard sang away.
“It’s poetic,” you added when you saw the Witcher’s jaw clench. “An artistic reimagining.”
“It’s a lie,” he huffed, “life isn’t poetic.”
“That’s why we make music. We make things...more palatable. Your life of violence isn’t suited for everyone.” You pointed to your cut lip and added, “I know people that would run for the hills with a wound like this. But our songs will mark you in history for your chivalry...”
Geralt grunted, clearly unmoved by your speech. Despite all you and Jaskier tried to do for the Witcher, he was determined to discourage your efforts. You had long since grown tired of his unamused ‘hmming’ and blank, quiet watching. Through gritted teeth you spat out a stinging end to your miniature diatribe.
“...your chivalry, which is yet another artistic reimagining.”
Before he could make another hum of displeasure, you left Geralt in the sandy dust and followed after Jaskier. He reached the chorus in your new ballad as you neared him and, as you fell into step beside him, you glanced over your shoulder. Geralt was still….still, his head moving to take in the sight of the canyon you were walking through. For a moment, you felt that maybe your speech had reached through the iced-over love in his heart.
Then you saw his shoulders sink with a sigh and the deep line of a frown on his lips form as he pressed on Roach’s flanks to push the horse forwards. You wore your own frown as you pulled your eyes to the path ahead. As you walked, you listened to Jaskier as he sang about a more poetic Geralt that slew Elves and caught coins. Never would you admit it, but it was that fictionalized Witcher in the ballad that you found yourself dreaming of in the dark of night.
What made those wonderings all the worse was the fact that the true Witcher, Geralt, your inspiration, was always a mere few paces away. Whether you were staying the night in a grimey inn or were laid across from him with a campfire between you, as you were later that night, Geralt was always nearby. Always a reminder of what, of who, you couldn't have. Being held hostage by the steep rock faces of the canyon did not help to ease that turmoil. Even over the crackling embers, you could hear Geralt shift in his sleep.
The sound echoed too much of reality and made falling to the fantasy of your dreamy Witcher far too difficult. From where you laid, you glanced to your right, away from the dwindling campfire, over to Jaskier. His lips were parted and soft snores filed out of his mouth only forcing rest farther from you. With a sigh, you looked up to the starry sky.
In it, you found the same quiet, and seemingly indifferent, company Geralt provided. You longed for more warmth; though you would never admit that out loud. The songs you wrote were devoid of romance for that purpose. You did not dare give away any hint of your feelings. Doing so would feel worse than death, you imagined.
And imagine you did. Your mind wandered and you stayed, terribly awake, staring up at the sky for a few minutes more before you got up. With your companions asleep, you were careful with your steps as you made off towards a nearby strip of woods. You hoped that a midnight stroll along the treeline would tire you out or, at least, dull the whirlwind whistling of your thoughts as they raced by.
Yet, you found yourself venturing further into the bush to better escape them. Ferns of all sorts nipped at your legs while a small symphony of nocturnal birds led you deeper. Their singing distracted you enough, but not quite enough to dull your every thought of Geralt, as he consumed so many.
And definitely not enough to ignore how a sudden mass of fog seemed to surround you. Hazy and light, the low clouds sent a shiver down your spine. How eery, you thought before you asked yourself: how could this be worked into a ballad? Perhaps there was a poor fair maiden, lost and alone, who wandered the woods in search of home.
But you were no fair maiden, and that would be considered dishonest if Geralt had any say. You scoffed at the thought. How you hated his influence over you. Every comment he made, every disapproving stare, Gods! However, it wasn’t anger for the Witcher himself that swelled in your chest. No, it was anger for yourself, for falling for a man so, seemingly, cold.
Your body, unable to hold all that disdain within itself, made your foot stomp against the obscured earth as you trekked through the fog. Heaviness nestled in your heart like a root of some toxic plant and you forced yourself to stop, take a breath. The walk through the woods wasn’t helping to clear your head, not anymore. You needed to lay down, push the thoughts aside with the promise of sleep.
Though, when you took the next few seconds to glance around, you saw only fog. “But I am lost,” you murmured bitterly, “and I am alone.”
It was then you heard the crackling of twigs. A white-hot flash of panic flooded your entire being. Where had it come from? Somewhere in the fog! Above? To the side?
Fear sent you into a frenzy of wide-eyed glances between trees and through the mist. You saw nothing but heard something. Something large, you imagined, something viler than the elves of the morning. Something with sharper teeth and a thirst for blood.
Just as you felt the darkness of doom creep over your shoulders, a glimmer in the fog caught your eyes. Almost as if a firefly found itself lost in the haze, a dull flicker of light spread through the mass of mist. The romantic in you hoped that it was a mystical muse lighting your way back to camp. A more primal part of you begged you to step towards your only possible source of illumination.
The Geralt in you, his voice nearly ever-present, scolded you. Turn around and run, that’s what it told you. For the first time, you were compelled to listen.
Quickly, you spun around on your heel and tried to ignore the continuous rustling of fauna behind you. You started forwards, back the way you came, just as the sounds of whatever hidden something grew louder. With each step you took, your apprehension grew, as did the volume of the growling, glowing creature that stalked after you. Your gut twisted with wild nerves, stirring you into the closest thing to a sprint as you could muster.
Lungs heaving, you darted through the trees in a desperate attempt to escape. Astray in the searing panic that was running for your life, you sent frantic, wild-eyed glances over your shoulder. What chased after you was a spindly figure that almost seemed to glow from its chest, shedding a dim light on the forest floor before it. Soulless eyes were sunken in a wrinkled face that was framed by a pair of pointed ears.
You didn’t have a clue what it was, only that its grimace made it less friend and more a dangerous foe.
You didn’t have a clue what it was, until a gruff voice shouted out, “Fogler!”
The yell made you jump, set your footfalls off-center, and primed you to fall flat on your face. Roots entangled your foot, anchoring you firmly and suddenly to the dirt. Stones and sharper twigs bit at every inch of skin you had exposed. You winced at the pain until the scurrying and nasty gurgling of the creature, the Fogler, pulled you back to the threat of death. Then numbed by fear, you turned and saw it.
Claws, long and dark, reached for you. In a feeble attempt of defense, you raised your hands and cried out.
Rather than a strike, thick wetness hit your open palms. Slowly, you lowered your arms and looked at where the Fogler had been moments before. The creature was still there, though it was laid back and a dagger was buried in its chest.
“Are you alright?” Asked the same gravelly, and terribly familiar, voice from before. With wide eyes, you glanced up and were met with Geralt’s amber eyes. He looked down at you, as he always did, with his hand extended towards you, fingers waiting for your own.
“Were you expecting a valiant knight?” He asked, gently shaking his hand for you to take it. “C’mon.”
You shook your head and stood on your own, despite the aching in your legs. Geralt’s sudden appearance shook you from the panic that claimed you a mere moment ago. “Did you follow me? Were you following me?!”
“You went for a walk in the woods, in the dark, like an idiot. So, yes, I followed you.” Geralt replied, his hand falling to his side and gesturing towards the slain creature behind you. "It's a good thing I did."
"A good thing?!”
“Yes,” Geralt replied coolly. Even in the limited light, you could make out his stone-cold features. There was no give in him. No deeper twinge that whispered of concern he held for you. But the way his eyes were fixed on you made you feel so watched, so wonderfully, frighteningly seen. How infuriating he was!
"Gods! All you ever do is watch and grumble and groan! You're,” you threw your hands up in the air and looked up as if the right words hung there. You found nothing. “You're-"
"What? What am I, Y/N?"
At the softer tone of his question, you felt compelled to meet Geralt’s gaze. His expression was still blank, waiting, and his posture was, as always, heavy. Shoulders were drawn back slightly, as if ready to hurl another dagger into the heart of a new threat. The way he carried himself made the quiet, honest curiosity in his voice all the more strained.
"Immovable,” you admitted in a breath, “a tower whose shadow I can’t escape."
Geralt’s lips quirked upwards then, one of those fleeting smiles that you saw him wear all too rarely. Despite his expression, there was a sadness in his voice as he said, “sounds poetic."
It was then, caught in a ray of moonlight, that you saw a Witcher more akin to the one that had your heart. Geralt’s gentle side shone through in the darkest hour. What sweet torture it was to see him at last, to have him so close, but unable to touch.
As if he read that thought, Geralt’s gaze dropped from yours and you felt a chill run down your spine. He was always out of reach. You had Folger blood on your hands anyway.
"We should get back to the camp,” you mumbled bitterly.
Geralt hummed in response, a sound you assumed was an agreement. Yet, as you began to walk past him, a hand shot out and gripped your arm. You stopped dead in your tracks and found Geralt’s eyes once more. Something shifted, something gave way.
Wordlessly, Geralt’s hand brushed down your arm until his fingers found your wrist. He pulled one of your ichor-covered hands close to his chest. You wanted to ask what he was doing, what he was planning, but you didn’t dare ruin the moment or interrupt the sensation of his skin against your own. When he pulled out an already grimey handkerchief from a pocket on his dark trousers, any question you held died on your tongue.
“Thank you,” you murmured as Geralt wiped the blood off your hands. His movements slowed as crimson soaked in the fabric, but he did not loosen his grip. You saw the amber of his eyes flick down to your lips before he looked into your eyes again.
"Poetic enough for you?"
There was an edge to his question. Not quite like the refined, cutting edge of Geralt’s favorite sword or the usual harsh honesty his words were laced with. No, it was teasing. It was an edge of humor that you had barely seen Geralt express since you met him.
“So much so that I must be imagining it,” you replied, playing into his tone.
Geralt’s eyes wandered back down to your lips at your response. When he met your gaze again, there was a question heavy in his features, his furrowed brow, and parted mouth. You leaned in closer, hoping he would take the hint, take your silent answer to his silent question. When his grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you to his chest, you became grateful for the Witcher’s watchfulness, his intuitiveness.
Through you were far more grateful for the surprising softness of his lips, how easily they melded against your own. How you fit together like a dream, like two lines of poetry that flowed lyrically into each other. Your next song felt like that midnight kiss.
Not a man of many words
Summary; Geralt of Rivia isn’t a man of many words. Luckily for him, words aren’t what you need him for.
Content Warnings; smut, cockwarming in a bathtub (Yes, IN A BATHTUB), biting, handjob, slight thigh riding/grinding, maybe a few curse words, kissing, FLUFF!
A/N; I recently started watching The Witcher and...well...enjoy! also I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted; I’ve been struggling with my mental health but I really hope this makes up for it :))
Word Count; 1713
It was a quiet night. Soft yellow hues of candlelight surrounded you, as your mind slipped further and further away in the book you were reading.
The day had gone by quick, but it had been tiring nonetheless. You had sold a couple potions, some herbs, and a few flowers and plants too.
The smell of your homemade rosehip tea invaded your senses. You took pride in brewing your own teas and potions here and there. And the people in town paid good money for your stuff.
You lived in a small village. The house you lived in wasn’t the most spectacular but you thought it was absolutely perfect. Especially the garden.
You moved to take another sip as you were suddenly startled by a loud knock on your front door, almost making you spill the steaming hot beverage all over the slightly tanned pages of your book.
There was no need to be nervous, you knew exactly who was at the other side of that door. Even if you ever had any company other than him at this hour, you’d still recognize him from that harsh knock alone.
“Can I come in?” was all he asked, as soon as you opened the door and his golden gaze met yours. His voice was even deeper and raspier than you remembered.
He was covered in dirt, sweat and some dark crimson remains of what you guessed was dried blood.
You gave him a sweet look. To everyone else, he might look big and scary, but you could see beyond the broody exterior. And underneath all the blood and grime and telltales of the emotionless beast, you saw a kindhearted man in need of a place to stay.
How could you ever say no to that?
Taking a step back, you allowed the massive man to enter your home once again. No matter how long it had been, you always welcomed him just the same.
“Shall I draw a bath?” You asked. A question you both already knew the answer to.
All you heard was a rumbling “hmm” in agreement as he started dropping his things on your wooden floor and ridding himself of his garments.
You grinned, starting to fill the large, pool-like tub in the middle of your bathroom with warm water and a mixture of bath salts and healing herbs.
“Do you ever smile, Witcher?” You asked as you sat behind him, gently washing his muscular back.
“No.” He grumbled, his usual frown plastered on his forehead.
Slowly, you dragged a soaked piece of cloth over his enormous shoulders, when an idea popped into your head.
The scars that covered his wet skin glistened in the dimly lit room. They looked beautiful, just like any other part of him.
You felt his entire body tense when you pressed your soft lips on his skin. It made you giggle. You moved to kiss his back again, only this time the intimate gesture was followed by the feel of your teeth sinking into the scarred skin.
He hissed, glancing over his shoulder to meet your mischievous gaze.
You grinned at his annoyance, before sweetly soothing your fingers over the fading bite-mark you had left.
Yet again, the Witcher stayed quiet. Turning his gaze forward again as he huffed out an aggravated breath.
“Grumpy old man,” you whispered, propping your chin on his shoulder to leave a quick nibble on his ear.
Before he could shoot back a response, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, pressing your cheek flush against the bulging muscles of his back. You couldn’t help but let out a satisfied hum at the feel of his hot skin against your face. This man radiated so much warmth that you were fairly sure if you’d filled the tub with cold water, it would have turned hot from his body heat alone.
Your hands slowly wandered his chest, following the trace of his chest hair all the way down his stomach. They dipped under the surface of the water, finding the treasure between his thighs. You gave him a small squeeze. Even though you couldn’t see what was in your hands, you felt how big and needy he was for you. You hummed again. Relishing in his warmth.
Intimate moments with Geralt were rare. Not because he wasn’t capable of feeling, like many people thought, but because he had a hard time expressing his emotions, being vulnerable, letting people in. And in all fairness, no one had ever cared enough about him to take the time. To dig deeper, tear down his walls.
Don’t get it wrong, he knew how to fuck. No woman had ever been left unsatisfied by him. No, the fucking wasn’t his problem. It was just the soft and emotional stuff he had trouble with.
With your face still pressed tightly against his back, you could hear his heartbeat quickening in his chest as you slowly pumped the length of him. Lathering his back with soft kisses and nips. Occasionally grazing your teeth along his scars, nibbling on the sensitive skin until he was rock hard and throbbing in your hand. His rumbling groans vibrated against your cheek, traveling straight to your core.
Your movements were halted by Geralt’s large hands wrapping around your wrists. A frown overtook your face, worried that you might have crossed a line. But your worries were quickly put at ease as the large man turned around in your grasp, finally facing you and pressing his lips to yours.
It didn’t take long for you to cling to him again, snaking your arms under his and wrapping them around his large torso as your legs did the same. You crawled into his lap, the water surrounding you worked in your favor as you half floated against him, linking your ankles around his waist.
Suppressing a chuckle, the Witcher finally spoke up. “Needy much?” he asked with a raised brow, looking down at the beauty that clung to his chest.
His comment didn’t make you loosen up in the slightest, quite the opposite in fact. It just made you hold him even tighter, letting him know that you were indeed, needy for him.
“My god, woman! You’re going to crack a rib if you hold me any tighter.” he grumbled once more.
“Maybe then you’d finally stay a little longer.” you mumbled quietly, but he still heard it. Moving his fingers to your face, he slowly lifted your chin up to make your eyes meet his.
A sudden shyness overtook you as you stared up at him, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck but he stopped you.
There was so much he wanted to say, but you both knew words weren’t his strong suit. So he decided to show you instead.
Mimicking your earlier movements, he dipped his head to nibble on your ear, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands caressing your skin, everywhere they could reach. When his lips ghosted over your shoulder, he didn’t hesitate to sink his fangs into the supple skin, earning a squeal from you.
“OW, you brute! That hurts!”
“Don’t like the taste of your own medicine, Princess?” he asked as he kissed over the bruised flesh.
“I just like the taste of you.” you breathed, hands wandering down again, eager to please both him and yourself.
Satisfied with the slight growl you got in response, you continued to pump his heavy length until he was pulsing in your grasp.
With his lips still hovering over the exposed skin of your neck, hot breath leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. You were thoroughly soaked, and it wasn’t just from the deliciously warm water that surrounded you. Slick covered your aching core, and finally you couldn’t take it anymore.
“please...” you moaned as you ground yourself on his thigh, desperately trying to create some friction. “Geralt please, I need you. Need to feel you...please.”
Well, if he wasn’t hard before, he sure was now.
“Come here.” was all he mumbled out before positioning you on top of his cock, pulling you down with ease, he slowly slid inside of you and you happily welcomed him.
You let out a sigh and he let out a groan, slowly sliding down his length until you were fully seated on him and you felt him, all of him, throbbing tightly inside of you.
Your eyes locked and there was a long beat of complete silence. The two of you just stayed like that for a while. Gazing in each others eyes, basking in warmth and unspoken adoration. The sweet smell of the bath salts lingered around, tangling with the faint sent of sweat.
You didn’t dare to move, afraid to lose this intimate moment with him. But as you stared into his eyes, you were relieved to see a look of reassurance, telling you he didn’t want to move either.
Geralt tipped his head slightly to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.
“hmm, I missed you.” you sighed once he pulled away to breathe.
He could only hum in response, utterly enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him, in every way possible.
Feeling his head drop to your shoulder and slightly nuzzling in the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent as you softly raked your nails over his muscular back, you told him about how good he felt against you, inside of you, how much you had missed him.
You felt his breathing slow against you, along with his heartbeat. He looked relaxed, at peace.
Afraid to disturb the slumbering beast, you decided to shut your mouth and just enjoy his warmth.
“No, please don’t stop, I like your voice.” he mumbled sleepily.
The sweet statement tumbling over the, usually so broody, man’s lips made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in your stomach and a subtle giggle leave your mouth.
His head rose up from your shoulder and for the first time, you were greeted with a dopey smile.
“You do smile.” you grinned at him.
“Only when I’m truly happy.” he stated, and with that, he conquered the last piece of your heart, making you entirely his, ‘til the end of time.
Also shoutout to @littlefreya for getting me absolutely hooked on Henry Cavill. You are by far the best Henry Cavill writer I’ve come across and just generally such an amazing creator. Ily 🥺💖
Masterlist 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆
Summary: Find your way through the Continent; your story depends solely on the choices you make.
Warning: some of the choices you make may result in 18+ content. By reading under the cut, you are acknowledging you are an adult and consent to the content below.
Author’s Note: Here it is guys!! The Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story featuring Geralt of Rivia. Make sure to vote in the comments and reblogs which option you went next. The winner will be posted in 2 days (Wednesday).
A/N 2: Thanks to everyone who held my hand and helped me figure out my thoughts in writing this (it was a lot to keep straight and try to make sense. Special shout out to @littlefreya @zaffrenotes @ao719 @angrythingstarlight @viking-raider @luna-aestas @lovealexhunt and putting up with my tantrums and jumbled thoughts. I don’t know if I could’ve actually finished this project without your help.) Page divider made by me.
A/N 3: Not beta’d; we died with our typos like Geralt taking a pitchfork to the chest. Thanks a lot, Rob.
The walls of the tavern shook with boisterous laughter and you couldn’t help but think to yourself that you were glad you had insisted on staying in the town. Tired of too many nights sleeping on the cold hard ground, you were determined to enjoy a blessed respite from the trials of living on the road. The Witcher grumbled at the idea of wasting money but you longed for a good night’s sleep on something softer than the rolls packed on Roach’s back. After securing accommodations for yourselves, you were determined to enjoy the company of the folks you found in the tavern.
With a broad smile on your face, you walked up to the counter to order drinks and food for yourself and Geralt. You hoped that a tankard of Redanian Lager and a hot meal might go a long way to appease your sullen companion. While you waited for your order, you surveyed the room as Geralt had taught you on your journeys together. The place was full of merriment and song; the entertainment roused joyous cheer in the crowd as the catchy melody enraptured its audience. Your body swayed along with the rhythm and you found the lively atmosphere electrifying. You found yourself engaging with the revelers around you, finding yourself lost in the excitement. The music buzzed in your head and you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm course through your body.
When you open your eyes, who does your gaze meet with?
Option 1: an enticing new stranger
Option 2: a surly look from the weather beaten man in the corner
Imagine being in pain and Geralt taking care of you
Paring: Geralt x you (No body type or ethnicity mentioned) FLUFF
Warnings: Injury, Pain, a bit of angst because of pain, intimate bathing moment but not really smut.
Somebody was asking me a while ago if I was planning a second part... and well... here it finally is :3
If you enjoyed, please reblog, like and leave a comment ❤
You meet Dandelion and Zoltan at the Tavern for some lunch. Zoltan is talking about his latest news, Geralt tells some of the new adventures you two were been through and Dandelion is listening excited, gathering news for new ballades/ songs as always. It doesn't take long until the pain hits you again. You told your friends about it and got back to your room a bit sooner, just to take some more potion and preparing a bath.
-Some time later back in the room-
The big wooden round tub is filled with warm water and Geralt is already sitting in it, relaxed with eyes shut and head tossed.
" You know this tub is big enough for both of us?", he says with a smirk.
Just when Geralt finished the sentence, you already stepped in the tub, leaning over and press a kiss on Geralts lips. When you sit down facing him, he starts to smile.
"How is your scar doing?", he asks with a worried look.
"It feels strange, but I'll survive". You grab the big sponge and soak it into the soapy water. You gently rub it against your arms and chest, Geralt following every move you make with a soft smile. As you lean forward and the sponge touches the strong chest of your Witcher, a deep growl escapes his lungs. He grabs your arm and drags you even closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you. You take place on his lab, and Geralt starts prepping your face and neck with gentle kisses. You're always surprised how gentle this man actually can be, by all the roughness he can show through the day. When his lips meet yours and the kiss begins to become deeper and deeper his hand rests on your cheek and the other one softly touching your body. The lust rising with every second until both of you swim in the waves of moans, lust and desire. ~
You lay in bed, Geralt next to you and the silvery light of the moon shimmers throughthe windows.
You can't seem to find any sleep, because the pain is back again. The cut, that stupid scar... it feels like someone's stabbing in it with a knife.... over, and over again. The pulsing pain gets even worse with every single minute you concentrate on it....
You dont want to wake Geralt, he needs to rest properly and you don't want to bother him with your pain... Although he would never feel bothered by you, since he loves you from the bottom of his heart, you just don't want to cause any more problems, since you only stayed here for so long because of you.
So you just lay there, trying to focus on your breath. Suddenly Geralt shifts next to you and softly placing a hand on your hip, carefully turning you on your back.
"Y/N? Are you allright?", Geralt asks, and his yellow eyes are shining in the dimmed moonlight.
" It's ok.. ", you say, with a cracked voice because you try not to stop your focus on breathing.
"You're breathing unnaturally and your heart is beating like crazy. Are you in pain again?!", Geralt sits up, leaning over you and looking straight into your eyes.
A soft wimper escapes your lungs. " I'm so sorry Geralt, but it hurts so much...". Tears roll down your cheeks as you sit up.
~Why ... why am I crying?~ you think.
Geralt cups your face in his hands, swiping away your tears. The look of his face, so worried... You've never seen him like this before. It brings up even more tears to you.
"Where are the painkillers?", Geralts eyes are wandering around the room. You look down on your hands:" I took the last pair of herbs about 1 hr ago...".
You already took all painkillers? Those should have last until tomorrow evening. Why didn't you say anything y/n?-" " I thought I could sit it out, so you can rest properly. I didn't want to worry you...", you're still looking at your hands.
Geralt is pushing up your chin he can look straight in your tearing y/e/c eyes, rubbing of your tears with his thumb.
"Are you kidding me? Don't ever think that you cold do anything to bother or annoy me. Do you understand? I want you to tell me when there is something, anything, Ok?!"
"We'll go and see a Healer. Now. Geralt gets up, helping you gently off the bed. As you go towards your clothes, you suddenly feel dizzy and your head begins to spinn. Before you could say anything, you knocked out. Geralt catches your falling body by quick catching your unconscious body with his arms, before you could hit the ground.
You wake up in bed with a pounding headache.
Strong arms are wrapped around you, your head resting on a chest. You breathe in a familiar scent, wich brings a calming feel rising up in you.
"Everything is going to be allright", Geralt presses a kiss on your head." " what happened Geralt?"
" You passed out, probably from all the painkiller-herbs. I catched you and put you back to bed. Then I went straight to get a healer. They opend the scar, put some herbs to your wound and gave you some potions. You were barely awake... They said that the injury isn't infected and the harsh first aid isn't the problem. They don't know why you are still in pain. But you should be fine now.
" Then, what is the problem?"
"I didn't think of it first... I heard from other Witchers, that a bite or a scratch of an Alp can cause such symptoms, but it's really rare... . It will take some time until it stops and some special oils could help. We'll go the Kaer Morhen if you're feelinga bit better, Vesemir probably knows what's to do."
You close your eyes: "I only cause you truble lately-",
Geralt puts his hand under your chin, lifting it so his golden eyes are pinned at your y/e/c ones. "Don't say or even think that. How many times have you stitched me up? How many times did you take care of my wounds and made me potions, ointments or oils? You are not a burden, my love. You'll never be."
Geralt presses another soft kiss on your head and lips and caresses your back. You snuggle into his chest, his grip around you tightens. "Thank you for taking care of me, Geralt."
"I will always be there for you if you need me, just like you are for me y/n."
"I love you", you mumble in his chest. "I love you too", Geralt smiles.
Tagging @starstruckkittyangel , because you asked for a part 2 back then 🤭
I hope you enjoy it 🙈🌺
Part one here:
-I apologize for any misspelling or else... English is not my first language and I'm still a beginner in writing fics 🙃 -