#geralt x reader fluff

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Tragic Kingdom: Part 4

And she is a doozy. Please heed my warnings for this chapter: 🌶🌶 M/f p in v, dirty talk, oral. 🚨 Mentions of infant loss/child death. If you are triggered by this just stop reading the story all together because it is a running theme throughout the rest. You have been warned. 🚨

word count: 4052

Queen Malin barely gave you time to settle in before she was taking you away to discuss your place in the realm. She walked you through your wing of the palace introducing you to staff. She insisted you redecorate as you saw fit. Then, she had you meet with the dress maker to fit you for your coronation gown and finally the small council of mages who knew your mother and Frigga. The whole afternoon was overwhelming. You wanted nothing more than to slip into a hot bath and then straight to bed. When you felt like you would burst into tears if you had to make one more decision, Geralt swooped in to rescue you. 

“Mother, I think today has been quite enough for my wife. May I please have her now?” He extended his hand to help you out of your chair. Your backside was sore from being seated for so long. 

“Yes yes. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.” She dismissed you with a wave. “Do dress for dinner. The council will be joining us.” 

“Yes, your majesty.” You bowed and adjusted your dress just as Geralt pulled you to his side. 

“We will not be at dinner tonight or any night for the foreseeable future. Good evening, mother.” He pulled you away leaving the queen with her mouth hanging open in shock. He scooped you into his arms slinging you over his shoulder with a smack to your sore bottom. 

“I believe I can walk, dear husband.” He smacked you again causing you to yelp which earned you a satisfied grunt. Once you made it back to your bedchamber he set you down on the bed and disappeared to run you a bath. 

“You must be exhausted. I took the liberty of having dinner sent to our room. I don’t intend on leaving this room for several days nor do I intend on wearing a stitch of clothing.” You hummed in approval allowing your eyes to slip closed. “Well this won’t do. You’re far too clothed.” You didn’t open your eyes when he slipped off your shoes or unfastened your dress. It wasn’t until his hot mouth wrapped around your nipple and sucked that your eyes flew open. “Don’t move. I’m going to bathe you with my tongue before you get in the tub.” 

Geralt laved his tongue over your breasts and abdomen trailing his way down to your cunt. He feasted on you until you were a blubbering mess. He hauled you back over his shoulder and carried you to the bath. His mouth was on yours again melting into you while you sank into the water. “What does my sweet dove want? Do you want my cock?”

“Yes” you breathed. He held your hips and situated you above his swollen appendage. You lowered yourself painfully slow not allowing him to take control. He growled deep in his throat urging you down but refrained from thrusting into you. When you finally bottomed out he let out his breath and held you while you moved. “Fuck I feel you everywhere.” He offers nothing but a grunt too wrapped in pleasure to speak. “Oh Geralt Geralt Geralt you feel so good. Cum for me. Fill me please.” His hands clamped down on your hips for three bone shaking thrusts leading him to empty inside you. You rested your head on his chest smiling against his skin. “I might not make it several days.” 

“We’ll take breaks.” Both of you burst into laughter. He softened inside of you ultimately slipping free but didn’t move you from his lap even when the water grew cold. 

Sleep took both of you easily once you crawled into your clean crisp sheets. At some point dinner was served in your sitting room. The aroma twisted your empty stomach urging you to wake. You were famished. You didn’t grab a robe to sit at the table as requested. When Geralt woke, he found you with a chicken leg in one hand and a large goblet of wine in the other. “I love a woman with a voracious appetite” he laughed. 

“My apologies . I was starving.” You wiped your mouth and rose from your seat to greet him. 

“No. Don’t stop on my account. You’re home now, Dove. This is our private place. Be yourself.” He plopped in the chair opposite yours and dug in. Through mouthfuls of food the two of you had an easy conversation. As it turns out, you both had a lot in common being raised in strong military families. Geralt even promised to teach you how to wield a sword. You knew you could be happy here. Happy with this man who can’t get enough of you. Through all your heartache, it felt nice to feel wanted and, dare you think it too soon, loved. 

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For the next few days you stayed in your sex cocoon until Queen Malin sent word that your presence was demanded in her garden. “Looks like I’ll have to get dressed.” 

Geralt wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you back into bed, “Not if I have a say in this.” The Queen’s guard was stationed at the foot of the bed attempting to avert his eyes. 

“I’m afraid it was not a request, my lord.”

“Tell my mother the princess is busy.” You tried to break free from his grasp but that proved to be a fool’s error. “Where do you think you’re going, Dove?” He took your breast in his mouth making you gasp. 

“Your Grace, the Queen will have my head if I fail to deliver the princess.” The man sounded genuinely afraid. 

“Ok, Geralt. We’ve had our fun. Duty calls. Please send word to the Queen that I will join her in her garden shortly.” The guard scurried from the room muttering under his breath. “You are incorrigible, my liege.” 

“You’ll hurry back?” He fastened the back of your dress making certain to kiss your neck and shoulders. 

“I will return as soon as possible.” He sent you off with one more heart stopping kiss. You were completely flustered and in no shape to meet your mother in law but you had no choice. 

The Queen’s garden was stunning. In the center of all the lush vegetation was a plot filled with purple hyacinth. The flower was a symbol of sorrow generally planted near the graves by those who bury their dead. In magic, however, hyacinth is used to protect against nightmares and to alleviate grief.  The way they were precisely arranged indicated that someone was buried here. 

“Do you know the significance of the hyacinth?” The Queen asked rather than offering a greeting. You nodded urging her to continue. “I’ve buried four sons in this garden. None of them lived past their first birthdays. Do you know why?”

“No, I’m sorry, ma’am.” She did not look at you once. Her voice was grave devoid of all warmth. 

“Our bloodline was cursed while I was pregnant with our third child. My husband the king had an affair with our mage Sarai. It is not uncommon for a king to have such known arrangements with their wives. Our marriage was purely for political gain as many marriages are. Sarai became pregnant at the same time and gave birth to a son three months after our child was born. Because he would have been a direct heir to the throne, Ivar ordered his assasination. He was poisoned. Sarai, overcome with grief, used her son’s blood to curse his entire bloodline that no sons shall live, ending our family’s reign. That was until Geralt was born. I told Ivar I would not give him a son. Could not bury another child. He begged me for one more chance. To show his word was true, he hunted Sarai and begged her to lift the curse. She refused saying blood curses could not be undone. So he executed her. Her death weakened the spell enough for mages from all the realms came to our aid. They bound his life force, cleansed his blood and made him strong. We thought it was over. Geralt lives.” She wiped away a few stray tears pulling herself together to finish her story. “We were wrong. Three of my daughters have planted the purple hyacinth. Now you know.” 

You were in shock. There were so many thoughts racing through your head you did not know where to begin. “Your Grace, may I start off by offering my sincerest condolences to you and your family. I cannot imagine overcoming such grief. Secondly, while a blood curse is devastatingly difficult to remove, it can be done. I am surprised none of the other healers said as much. The problem is, ending a blood curse requires human sacrifice. Namely, the king. I would need to drain him.” She did not look away from her flowers. She already knew. “Thirdly, because Geralt lives, his heirs might be protected. I would need to consult my mother but I believe his sons would be safe.” 

She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and let out a deep sigh, “Let us hope, for your sake, you are right. Come. My daughters have been anxious to meet you.” 

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Still reeling from the conversation you had with Queen Malin you were slightly dazed when you entered the large drawing room. It was packed to the gills with Geralt’s sisters and nieces ranging in ages from early twenties to infants. You attempted to slip in quietly but a page announced you. The room fell silent save for a few of the younger girls who continued with their games. The oldest woman in the room stood up and wrapped you in a hug, “It is thrilling to finally meet you. I am Hilda, the oldest daughter. Next is Runa, then Willa, Agnes, and Bestla.” You smiled at each of them, noting that both Willa and Bestla were expecting. She named all of the nieces but it would be impossible to remember them all. 

“It is wonderful to meet you all.” You said timidly. They continued to stare as if they were expecting a speech of some sort. “I haven’t the faintest idea how I will remember all of your names.” The girls giggled. 

“Oh please, dear. I forget them sometimes.” Runa offered. They guided you to a chair to speak with them while the children carried on with their playing. 

Hilda held your hand as you looked around the room at all of their lovely faces. “This must be overwhelming coming from such a small family. We are a lot to handle. Sit, dear. Tell us more about you.” You told them about your life on Asgard and how the two princes treated you like their little sister. They listened with rapt attention when you spoke of your magical prowess. None of the sisters had ever traveled to another realm in their lives. You were somewhat of a novelty to them. 

You asked many questions about the realm, the history of their family, what Geralt was like as a baby. All the while completely skirting the crux of their narrative. The curse. Finally, Agnes brought it up. “Has anyone explained the tragic history of our family? Since you were with mother in the garden we all assumed…” 

“She has and I am so very sorry for your losses. I imagine it is difficult to find joy during your pregnancies when you have no control of the outcome.” The five women looked away wistfully, some with tears in their eyes. Their father was to blame but to suggest causing him any harm would be treason. Though, if it meant the line to the throne could carry on, a noble king would sacrifice himself rather than standing by while his sons and grandsons perished. King Ivar did not appear to be the noble sort. You wondered if the matchmaker was aware of the curse before the arrangements were made. And, was that the reason the family agreed to a swift ceremony? Tonight you would write to your mother to express your concerns. Surely your parents were just as ignorant to the truth as you were. It was not possible that your own flesh and blood would allow you to enter a union under false pretenses knowing your children could meet their demise. 

Hilda touched your harm to grab your attention. “I know how you are feeling right now. We were sworn to secrecy. Our parents forbid us from telling each other. They did not divulge the truth to me until my first son passed.” Now tears were flooding her cheeks while the other sisters looked on in a similar state. 

“Does Geralt know?” None of them answered. “Does my husband know of our fate?” You asked through gritted teeth. Hilda slowly shook her head “no”’. As the only male he was under enormous pressure to continue their line. It was not unheard of that men knew nothing of pregnancies and births. They had limited involvement beyond conception. But did he never question. “I will not begin my marriage with lies and deceit.” 

“No!” Bestla shouted, “He and father already have a tumultuous relationship. This will send Geralt over the edge. He’ll renounce the throne.” You felt like your breath left your body. You refused to let this cloud hang over your union. Why should you keep your father in law’s secrets? Why should any of you have to suffer for his deeds? More importantly, why should you have to endure this on your own. The first day you met Geralt said he took his vows to you seriously and you feel the same. Even if your confession dissolves your marriage, he deserves to know. 

“I will not keep this from my husband.” 

“It will destroy our family!” Wila cried. You had to steel yourself against the fiery rage that bubbled up in your gut. You could not fight them. You could not convince them until you had a plan. You would write to the three most powerful sorcerers you knew. There had to be a way. 

“I will keep my knowledge of the curse hidden until I have exhausted all possibilities of lifting it. Your brother deserves to know the truth. I urge you to summon all the courage you can muster to tell him.” With that you excused yourself to retire back to your chambers. 

Mercifully Geralt was not waiting for you. Quickly you wrote two letters, one to your mother and one to Loki. You had no doubt your mother would involve Frigga. Loki might know a far darker way to free your husband from this fate. For now you concocted a tonic that would act as a prophylactic against pregnancy until you were sure of the outcome. 

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Within hours a letter appeared on your desk from your mother. In it she expressed her and your father’s outrage at the secret the king and queen kept. Of course, had they known, they would not have agreed to your union. She and Frigga would begin their research and have answers for you come coronation day. 

Loki hadn’t written back. You didn’t really expect him to. Even though you left on relatively good terms, you were both still hurting. It’s still too raw. Though, you knew he wouldn’t leave you hanging out to dry. Even if he did not respond, he would seek out his mother and work tirelessly to find the answers you seek. 

You spent the next few weeks finalizing plans, working in your garden and fucking your husband like a feral animal. Many times in the throes of passion he’s mentioned filling your womb with his sons. Each time you looked away not wanting to give anything away. That gesture did not go unnoticed. 

“Dove, is everything alright?” He asked as he peppered kisses up your thigh.  

“Of course. Why do you ask?” His tongue was fierce tonight. Unrelenting. 

“Each time I mention children you avoid my eyes. Tell me why.” He nudged your clit with his nose as he speared you with his tongue. 

“I…fuck that feels good…I don’t know what you mean.” When he felt you start to clench around his fingers he backed away entirely. “Geralt? Why did you stop?”

“Has there ever been a moment when you felt I was being dishonest to you?” His voice was a low growl. 

“No but…” He began kneading your thighs working his hands up higher and higher until his fingers whispered over your cunt. 

“Am I not open and transparent with you at all times?” 

“Yes. Always.” you breathed as he slowly rolled your clit between his fingers. 

“Then I expect you to treat me with the same respect. Now talk to me, Dove. What troubles you?” He gave your pussy a long slow lick taking you right back to the edge of your orgasm. He maintained eye contact with you spurring you on. When you didn’t answer he froze in place. You were desperate to cum. “My darling, I have all night. I am not sure my sweet girl will last much longer. Speak.” 

You thought of a lie that seemed plausible enough. “I was worried that news of a baby would change our developing relationship. I would like to at least like you before we have children.” 

He let out a hearty laugh. “Is that so? And here I was this whole time thinking that you did, in fact, like me. Dare I say it? Perhaps you could even love me?” You sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. You could smell yourself all over him. The thought of him going through his day smelling like you flooded you with even more arousal. 

“Do you love me?” You asked with a timid quietness to your voice. 

“With all of my very heart and soul. I will die if you do not feel the same.” 

“I do. I love you. And it’s so new I do not wish for a drooling tyrant to ruin it so soon.” 

His voice grew quiet and tender when he took your chin in his hand. “I have waited a lifetime for you. I can wait a little longer for our children. I love you, Y/N. Tell me again.” 

“I love you, Geralt. And I will love you until the last beat of my heart and my last breath leaves my body.” 

Your words turned Geralt into a beast. He pulled your body to his and entered you with a force that left you breathless. You shook violently when you finally met your release. Geralt held you tight helping you through it and then pounded into you harder. It was as though he was trying to find a way to meld his body with yours, to fuse you into one being. You would gladly let him. You were entirely his which made your secret even more painful to keep. 

Your husband slept in a sweaty heap next to you but your eyes would not close. Your family would be arriving in the morning. You knew what the answers would be. You had been working with Njord and the other mages for weeks trying to find a solution. Njord was just as powerful as Frigga and much older. The man practically invented blood curses. If he saw no other way, there wasn’t likely one. 

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The day was finally here. You would be crowned as princesse of Vanaheim in mere hours and it was the furthest thing from your mind. You waited with bated breath for your parents to arrive. Your guards waited behind you with nervous anticipation to see the Bifrost in action. A wave of light struck down on the ground a few hundred feet ahead of you. Out walked your parents, Frigga and, to your utter surprise, Loki. Your mother and father enveloped you in an embrace. Your father kept you wrapped tight while your mother inspected you. “Are you eating? You look thin. Kasper, does she not look thin?” 

“Astrid, darling, she is radiant. Please do not dampen the mood with your worry. So happy to see you, Elskan.” 

“Happy to see you too, Pappa. I can’t breathe.” He chuckled and let you go. You quickly hugged Frigga, thanking her for coming. You and Loki stared at each other for a long moment before you launched yourself at him. You missed him so much and hadn’t really even realized you did. “I’ve missed you, my Prince. Have you been well?”

He inhaled your scent, committing it to memory. “Oh, kjære you have no idea. I’ve been a mess without you. We have much to discuss. I apologize for my unanswered letter. I have explored every possibility. We have a plan.” He gestured to your respective mothers. You burst into tears. You know they would come through for you. “Please do not get excited yet. It will be ugly and painful but you will not be hanged for murdering the king so that side is a plus.” 

“I do not care what has to happen. I need to do this for Geralt. Who, by the way, is awaiting our return to the palace.” You boarded a carriage and traveled back to your home. It had been a long while since Frigga had been back to her homelands.  She had hoped for a nicer diplomatic venture into Vanaheim”s capital city but this visit was not that. After the coronation festivities they would have to sequester you in a quiet part of the palace and put your body through a truly horrific trial. As soon as you arrived she sought out Njord to fill him in on the ritual they would perform. There were a lot of materials to be gathered and they would need to find a space to work. 

Your ladies and your mother helped you dress while Loki paced back and forth in your sitting room. Geralt did come to greet your family but excused himself to assist his mother and sisters. He wanted to be surprised when he saw you in your gown for the first time. He also did not wish to know what this tension was between you and Loki. Geralt took your father with him with the intention of also grabbing a drink. 

“Kjære, may I have a moment to discuss this evening with you?” Loki asked signaling your mother and ladies to leave. As soon as they were gone he wrapped you in a hug careful not to wrinkle your dress. “This is truly awful, pet. I am so sorry that you are going through this.”

“Loki, you are scaring me. Please, just be honest with me.”

:”Let’s leave. I do not say this in jest. Your marriage can be dissolved. You are under no obligation to do this. Please.” he pleaded. You shook your head furiously, “Y/n please! We are going to have to cut you, to bleed you, to essentially poison your own blood to accept his cursed children. You will be near the brink of death. And there is not even a guarantee it will work. You could put yourself through all of this and still have to go through the agony of losing a child. Do not do this. I’ll….I’ll give you all the children you want. I’ll marry you if that’s what you need. It is not as though you love Geralt. You’ve only just met.” You placed your hands on the side of his face to calm him. He was terrified of what he was about to do to you.

“But, Loki, I do love him. Desperately. And he loves me. I have to do this for him.” 

“How can he love you and allow you to suffer so?”

“He has no knowledge of the curse. If he did, he would never allow me to feel an ounce of pain. He would sacrifice his family’s royal line before he allowed me to do anything that could harm me.” 

“You must tell him. You must or I will. Please do not put me in such a position, kjære. He deserves to know that he can lose his wife tonight.” You agreed to tell him but after the coronation. You would need his strength tonight. 

#loki smut #loki x reader angst #loki odinson #loki #loki x y/n #loki fluff #geralt x y/n #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #geralt imagine #the witcher #geralt x reader #geralt x reader fluff #Geralt x reader angst

[princessaxoxo]

Mine

Dark!Geralt x reader

Summary: Geralt shows you that you're only his.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, angst, rough unprotected sex (p in v), slight choking, Dub!con, virginity loss, vulgar language

Word Count: 791

With horror, you witnessed Geralt’s golden irises bore into the man’s eyes that he had just killed in a swift motion. The man’s head rolled, stopping right at your feet. Any other individual would be fleeing or screaming. However, you? Not at all. You were utterly still and unmoving in your place.

You began to notice that your hands were shaking.

Soon after, a powerful hand caught your jaw and raised your head. With great intensity, Geralt's eyes met yours, and through clenched teeth, he spoke one word. "Mine."

His breaths were coming out harshly, his chest rising and falling with steam from his enraged state. Geralt’s hand moved from your jaw to your arm and harshly dragged you to the small cabin you both were taking shelter in. You winced under his rough touch. “Geralt! You’re hurting me. Stop!” you shouted, and he ignored your pleas to let go.

The small droplets of blood fell from his sword and led a trail to the small cabin, and inside, he dropped it and shoved you in, slamming the door shut. You were oblivious to Geralt's possessiveness toward you until now.

Geralt stalked toward you, and you began to walk backward, stopping when you hit the wall. He trapped you as he put both of his hands near your head. "I am the only man who will ever be allowed to touch you. Any other man who attempts will be killed by me; the man you just saw was an example."

“Do you understand?” Geralt was waiting for a response from you—any response. However, you gave none. You just stood there, staring right back at him. His jaw ticked, and he asked again. “Do you understand?” You began to stammer out your words. “I.. understand.” 

You’d never been scared of Geralt until now. “I don’t believe you fully do." His eyes looked over your face, and a wicked smile formed. "But you're about to..."

Your heart began to beat out of your chest. Geralt pulled on your hair, causing your head to bend backward, and his other hand gripped your jaw as he grazed his teeth along your neck and up to your mouth, where he smashed his lips against yours.

With his hands still on your hair, Geralt steered you backward until you struck the table on the other side of the room. Every object on the table was shoved off its surface by his hands.

He began to rid himself of his attire. You tried to move, but he stopped you with his large hand, encircling your throat. “Don’t.” He said it with a threatening tone.

His eyes ranked over your body for a moment before he tore off your clothing.

Geralt aggressively started to assault your lips once more, his tongue dominating yours. His hands began to harshly massage your breasts, and he pushed you down on the table.

As soon as you felt the cold surface underneath you, he intruded your cunt with his cock. "Geralt, wait!” you yelled. With no concern for your being, Geralt stretched your walls, causing you to experience an unparalleled level of pain.

Tears welled in your eyes and your nails scraped against the wooden surface. You could feel his sac hitting your ass each time he pushed back into you.

“I'm the only person who is allowed to see your body, to touch you, and to fuck you until you can't remember who or where you are."

His tone turned harsh. "Fucking"—thrust—"take"—thrust—"it". Geralt said this through clenched teeth.

The pain that had consumed you was subsiding, and an overwhelming amount of pleasure replaced it. You couldn’t help the whimpers that fell from your lips.

Geralt moved his hands from your hips to your throat, squeezing lightly. His growls became louder: “The feel of your cunt is astonishing; all mine, all the time, whenever I want."

Mindlessly, you spoke to him. “Yes, all yours whenever you please.” Another moan fell from your lips.

Geralt closed his eyes, trying to control himself before losing control, but you drove him insane with everything about you. His body shook as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. “Fuck..” 

You reached out and wrapped your slender fingers around his wrist as you reached for release. “Yes, come all over my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."

His thumb rubbed across your jaw as he loosed his grip around your neck and bent down to kiss you, this time more softly. Your vibrant red crimson covered his cock from losing the girl you were to becoming a woman.

He carried you to his bed. “For now, rest. I'm going to show you more how you belong to me.”

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @identity2212 @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @nighttimestan

#henry cavill #first post #henry cavill smut #smutty #henry cavill x reader #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #geralt smut #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii #the witcher #witcher #the white wolf #the witcher smut #the white wolf smut #the witcher 3 #the witcher geralt #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivera #geralt of rivera x reader #geralt of river x reader #the witcher netflix #princessaxoxo #princessaxoxo writing

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 

“Leave now!” 

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 

“Ari.” 

“Logan.” 

“Geralt.” 

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 3- Geralt of Rivia

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

Word Count: 3093

Description: Part One and Part Two

Warnings: Heavy smuttt y'all

Enjoy!

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

Every human had a beginning, middle and end.

Every monster had a beginning.

Every Saint had a beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Allow you?”

“To bathe you.”

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

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

“You won’t jest?”

“Never.”

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

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

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

“Not me. You.”

“You, with me.”

“I do not want to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About kings and dragonslayers?”

“No, about monsters.” 

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------------

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

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

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

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

Finally you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then how-”

“Yennifer smuggled you out-”

“Then what of the coin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop what?”

“This will ruin everything-”

“How. So.”

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

“Do you love me?”

“Y-”

“Do you love me as I love you?” 

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

“Then what does it matter?”

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

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

“I was cruel and-”

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

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

The warmth fills him the second you touch him. 

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

“You deserve better.”

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

“You want me?”

“I need you, Geralt.”

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

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

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

“After what you have been through…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So….. fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll never leave again.” 

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

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

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

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

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

—-------------

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

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

“Not your lover, but your closest friend.”

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

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

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

“He took little one to get some water.” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t get any ideas.”

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

“Guess your spellbound then.”

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

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

@sagelovesreading

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#geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia smut #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt angst #geralt fluff #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #the witcher smut #the witcher imagine #the witcher angst #the witcher #witcher 3 #witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia smut that makes you think that maybe the writer needs jesus #smut #angst #fluff #geralt

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: Look,  I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club? 

This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!

READ PART 2 HERE

Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds. 

However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.

Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey. 

He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless. 

"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question. 

"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. 

He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.

"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."

"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.

"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."

Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.

His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.

He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.

Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart. 

"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive. 

Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.

"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.

"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."

"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him. 

"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."

"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table. 

She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.

It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home. 

He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind. 

"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."

"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.

"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."

Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well. 

Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.

"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece." 

"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.

"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.

Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.

"I will be." 

That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.

She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.

Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.

She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts. 

Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.

But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.

“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.

"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.

"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot." 

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."

Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities. 

She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.

Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter. 

When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.

Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were. 

He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.

Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. 

And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.

I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!

PART 2 HERE

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x female reader #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia imagine

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speak."

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

"What makes you think that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

"They knew that there was a beast?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's outside the woods."

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will keep her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher netflix #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of river x reader #henry cavill #henry cavil x reader #witch #the witcher fluff #yennifer #jaskier #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #geralt of rivera #witcher 3 #henry cavil x y/n #witcher x reader #fanfic #witcher fandom #geralt fanfic #scarlet2007

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Soul

Summary: When tragedy strikes, Geralt of Rivia seeks comfort in the arms of one woman.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: PG - Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff Parental Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memories, Bathing, Love Confession, Soft!Geralt, Character's Death

Inspiration: This scene from Season Three of the Witcher! 😭

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

Geralt rode Roach hard, only deviating from his path to guide the powerful black horse around a tree or rock. He gripped the worn brown reins tightly, feeling them cut into the top of his bare hands as he urged Roach to move faster, foam already starting to gather around his bit. The Witcher's mind raced, desperately trying to push down the power of the news he received from a good friend, while trying to help someone he'd found on the job. He struggled for a few days, trying to push it down, telling himself it didn't hurt.

She had left him almost a century ago, at this point.

Witchers had no emotions, he told himself, as a means to drive them back. It didn't work however, the emotions continued to smash into him.

So, he left in the dead of night, not a word to Anika, Otto, or even Jaskier, of where he was going or why. Though, he was sure Anika would know why. Geralt covered almost a whole league by the end of morning, cutting through the forest outside of Murivel, until he reached a modest clearing and an even more modest, three-room hut constructed in the middle of it, a stone and clay well on the left side, the bucket swaying softly in the breeze.

Roach came to a hard stop, hooves cutting deep grooves in the grassy earth, with Geralt wasting no time in dismounting the stallion and stomping across the yard to the front door. His sore and broken heart rose up with hope that it would swing open and the face of the one he was seeking would appear, to greet him. But, the door didn't open to him, instead he was greeted another way.

“Geralt!” A soft and confused voice called out.

He swung around on his boot heels, his golden eyes zeroing in on you as you stood just passed the tree-line, a basket of herbs and mushrooms balanced on your hip, as you regarded the Witcher. You hadn't seen Geralt in over a year, since he decided he needed to go to Cintra to make sure Ciri was safe from the sea of black and gold he'd seen on the Amell Pass. After the Dragon Hunt. You had heard the thunder of the new Roach's hooves coming up the path to your home, while you were gathering in the forest, and came to see who it was. You were surprised to see Geralt in general, but you were worried by how rushed he seemed.

“Geralt, what's amiss?” You asked, coming to close the gap between you. “Are you well?” You inquired, seeing the unusually deep crease between his brow and across his forehead, and how his complexion was paler, almost matching his hair.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose, lips pressed together for a moment, working up the strength to speak. “I need you.” He finally rasped, his expression breaking into something soft and vulnerable.

“You rode all the way from wherever, just for time with me?” You smirked, tisking.

“Please.” Geralt replied, reaching out to grasp your free hand and squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his expression breaking even more.

You frowned at him, all jest dying inside of you, seeing his wall fall before you and the pain he was being crushed underneath. “Let's go inside.” You whispered softly, tilting your head towards your door.

Nodding, Geralt reached out for your basket, but shaking your head and swatting it away gently, you pushed the front door open and put your hand on his arm, guiding him inside. You set your basket on a large table and turned towards the just as large fireplace, grabbing wood from the dog grate and tossed it in. Building it back up, sparks flying up the chimney. You moved to Geralt, who stood motionless beside the table, taking his hand and guided him over to the chair at the head of the table, gently coaxing him to sit down, then knelt before him. Grabbing the heel of his boot and his calf, you tugged the muddy, black leather off and set it underneath the table, followed by its twin. There was dust and mud covering his black clothing. You brushed your palm over his knee and thigh, casting some of it off, before standing up again and starting for the next room, only to have Geralt grasp your wrist and pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he buried his face into your chest, and breathed deep.

You frowned at him, sympathetically brushing your fingers through his hair and pulling it free of its usual tie, his white strands cascading over his shoulders. You nosed the top of his head, caressing the back of his hair and squeezing his bicep, still confused as to why he was there and what was ailing him so much.

“Geralt.” You whispered into his strands. “Tell me, what's happened?” You asked, your fingertips brushing the back of his neck. “Did you not make it to Ciri in time? Has something happened to her or Jaskier?” You inquired, licking your lips as your heart thundered against his forehead. “I noticed that isn't the Roach you had the last time you were here.” You pointed out, remembering the sweet Chestnut you used to feed and brush, when Geralt stayed with you, but now there was a sturdy black stallion standing in your dooryard.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, they're both fine.” He rasped, turning his head to rest his temple against your collarbone. “As for the last Roach, she was killed by a Chernobog, a few months ago.” He added, softly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Then, what's the matter with my Wolf?”

He was still and quiet again, for a long time, his fingers restlessly toying with the strings at the back of your bodice, before suddenly standing with you still in his arms, and turning to sit you on the chair in his place. He went out the door, rounding the house to the well and dropped the bucket to the bottom. You watched Geralt come back inside with each bucket, holding it in one hand, like it was the weight of one of his swords. Pausing in the open doorway and giving you a hard stare every time, as if he expected to find you moved off the chair or vanished completely. Only then, did he go to your large cauldron, dumping the full bucket in and returning back outside for another.

“Are you going to tell me, what's the matter, Geralt?” You asked, your concern only mounting with his bizarre behavior and irregular moodiness.

“Nothing.” He grunted harshly, setting the cauldron over the fire to boil.

“That's a lie.” You answered, just as sharply, being one of the few people on the Continent brave enough to talk back to the White Wolf in such a manner; other than Jaskier and Ciri. “You wouldn't have come from the bum fuck of Nilfgaard to see me, if something wasn't bothering you.” You insisted, glaring at his back.

Geralt ignored you, heading towards the back rooms of your home and leaving you more worried and annoyed at his behavior. He came back a few minutes later with no shirt on, and your suspicions on his task were answered. Despite what the people of the great Continent thought of Geralt of Rivia, he did not in fact like smelling of death, blood and horse. When he stopped for the winter at Kaer Morhen or with you, he bathed regularly. He just found it more a nuisance to do so while on the Trail, since the next Contract or sleeping rough would only dirty him up again.

Pulling the roiling cauldron off the fire, Geralt carried it to the large, soaking tub you boosted in your bathroom. He filled it almost to the brim, before adding in Lavender and Sage bath salts to the steaming water. A fragrant haze filled the room as he tugged his pants off and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strode out of the bathroom, returning to you, still sitting where he'd left you. He took your hand and helped you stand, untying the strings of your bodice and tugging down your dress, so it pooled around your feet, before slipping his arm under your knees and an arm around your shoulders, scooping you up against his chest.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he carried you to the bathroom. “I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, as he stepped into the tub, lowering you both into it.

“And I, you.” Geralt replied, holding you in his lap and resting back. “Ciri and Jaskier are well, by the way.” He said, his fingertips stroking the skin of your side, beneath the water. “Ciri is being watched over by Yennefer, who's helping her try and control her magic and Jaskier was with Anika, last I left him.”

“Anika?” You frowned, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Why is Julian with Anika? If he's well.”

Geralt's thick, scarred arms squeezed around you, almost painfully, making you squirm in his lap. “You remember my mother.” He mumbled, barely audible. “Visenna.” He said so quietly, you had to strain to hear it.

“Yes, I recall you telling me of her, a few years after we met.” You murmured, seeing the strained expression on his face. “And that you'd seen her at Sodden Hill. She healed you, after the ghoul bite.”

“I remember bits of my life with my Ma.” He rasped, his grasp on you loosening, but he still held you close to him. “She smelled like embers, from keeping our measly fires alive during the long nights.” He told you, the crease between his golden eyes slowly vanishing as he went back to that time, tapping into that abandoned little boy, he had never grown out of, but skillfully concealed from those he didn't cherish. “We were quite poor, even though she was skilled as a healer. So, she-” He paused, his voice thickening and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You looked up at him, seeing the redness in the whites of his eyes and the unshed tears threatening on his lashes. It frightened you to see the Witcher like this. In the fifteen years you'd known him, you'd seen him in many states, but you had never seen Geralt cry. Reaching up, you cupped his scruffy cheek in your hand and thumbed a droplet away, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“She would use her magic to create the most elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.” He continued, tilting his head into your hand. “There was—I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet,” He voice broke again, this time with more than just hurt and abandonment, but with resentment. “The day she left me, she was sick. She needed some water, so I went to get her some, and when I came back to the road...she was gone.” He croaked, pushing his jaw forward and shaking his head, trying to deny the burn of more tears.

His fingertips pressed into the skin of your side and back. “I called for her.” He said weakly, his golden eyes off in the distance. “But she was gone.” He whimpered, the tears finally winning out, dripping off his jaw and into your hair and the bath water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his neck and hugging your arms around his torso. You had known Visenna had abandoned Geralt. He had told you that bluntly not long after you had met. The torture of her leaving him there, to be taken away to Kaer Morhen, where he'd suffered such agony in his transformation into a Witcher, at just five years old, coupled with the pain he never got over with his mother.

You wondered how Geralt had survived at all.

But no, Geralt was strong, even from a young age.

“She's dead.”

You pulled out of your thoughts, shocked. “She's dead?”

“She was giving aid to some villager and was mistaken as an Elf.” Geralt told you, bringing a hand out of the water to wipe it over his face. “They beat her severely and she later died, at the Temple of Mourning, where Anika was. Which is how I found out.”

“I'm so sorry, Geralt.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, connecting the dots to his arrival. “I hope the two of you were able to make some sort of easement between you, when you last met.”

Geralt pressed his lips together and buried his face into your hair, his throat too tight to speak in the moment. He considered how he and Visenna last met, in the forest outside of Sodden Hill, as he laid feverish and hallucinating from a Ghoul bite to the leg. After saving a poor Merchant, who was trying to bury the dead from a camp Nilfgaard had attacked. At first, she had tried to conceal her identity from him, pretending to be Renfri, Yennefer and finally, you, before he managed to discover who it really was. Triggered by her belief that, People linked by Destiny, will always find each other.

He asked her what she thought of his eyes. Demanding to know, if she knew what they did to improve a Witcher's eyes. Telling her that it didn't always work. She had begged him to stop. Calling him by his name, only for Geralt to reject her right to do so, like she had rejected him. He had begged to know if she knew how many boys actually made it through the Trials. Tears filled both of their eyes as they stared at each other in the darkness.

In the end, his Ma had left him, again, fading into the night, trying to convince him she was just a dream and he would never get the answer he wanted.

So, had he made peace with his mother abandoning him, forcing him on the Path of the Witcher?

No. Geralt decided in the end, he had not.

The only thing Geralt did know was he wanted you. You were the first person he had thought of, upon finding out about his mother's death. Wanting to feel you against him and needing the comfort only you were able to provide. You shifted out of Geralt's lap, moving around him, while reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing the small cup that sat on the foot board there. Dipping it into the water and gently pouring it over Geralt's silvery-white strands, you set aside and took up a round, solid bar of honey and chamomile scented soap, using it to work his hair into a rich lather. Geralt moaned, feeling your fingers massage his scalp, resting forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees, eyes falling shut.

“I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

You stopped, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “You've never said that before.” You said, looking around at him, mouth softly agape.

“No?” Geralt rasped, cocking a brow over his shoulder at you.

“Not once, in all these years.” You assured him, your hand gently massaging the scarred muscle of his neck.

He turned to you, causing the cooling water to slosh over the edge. “Then, I have a great deal of making up to do.” He cooed, reaching out to cup your face in his rough palm. “Because I do. I love you. Out of everyone, besides perhaps Jaskier and Vesemir, you know me better than anyone, and no one has ever taken better care of me than you have.” He told you, his face betraying the emotions a Witcher truly had, but guarded for their most treasured person, and not those of an abandoned child, rather those of a man in love.

“I love you too, Geralt.” You assured him, turning your head to kiss his hand. “And I will always care for you, me bleidd.” You whispered, picking up the cup to continue washing his hair.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt #witcher #A Witcher's Soul #A Witcher's Soul *fic* #hurt/comfort #Geralt of Rivia x You #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia Fluff #Angst #Fluff #Visenna #Geralt's Ma #Character Death #major character death

[mattmurdock42]

Henry's special night.

Summary: Henry's had a stressful week and you help him relax

Warnings: MASSAGES, BATHTUB, COCKWARMING, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

WC: +- 2k

It´s been three months since Henry started to work out for his new role, August Walker. He´d wake early and go to the gym, then, he´d go straight to the set´s gym to train for his fight scenes. He usually´d be home by 7 pm, but latelly, he was arriving at 9 pm, always sanding you picutes and videos of him training when he was late, apologizing and stuff. You didn´t knew how he could manage this schedule.

This has been his routine for a while now. However, this week you noticed he was a little different. He´d get home and go straight to the shower and bed, falling asleep in seconds. He used to always dine with you and talk and cuddle in bed, so this new behaviour of his shocked you. One day, while he was showering, you passed in front of the bathroom, which was with the door open, and you saw him leaned against the wall while the water ran against his back. You couldn't´t stand this situation anymore, not when, one day, his meals that he took to the trainig secions, came untouched. You knew all his diet, he needed to eat, and a lot, otherwise he wouldn´t even be able to stand still. You decided to do something, and it would be this weekend.

This friday he made home by 7 pm, then bath and bed as always. At weekends he would always just go to the gym and for a walk on the evening. He needed to go to the gym for his job, so you didn´t intervined in that, but tonight, he was not going out. You decided to accompany him in the gym, going 7 am, instead of your usual time, 5pm. You could tell he was tired, always yawning, sitting whenever possible, and making some exercises limited.

Getting home, you both went to have your morning snacks. "Henry, i´m worried about you." He looked confused at you. "You can barely stand still for to long. This days, your food came untouched. You need to obey strictly to your diet."

"Oh, that day i just forgot to eat, darling. It´s okay." He quietly says.

You knew he wouldn´t admit he was tired, he always wanted to pass an impression of being always strong, healthy and excited, rarelly letting his guard down. Moreover, you knew you were the only one he´d confess if something was bothering him. He trusted you with his life and didn´t know how he could love you so much.

"I won´t admit this situation to keep going. So, today i planned a special day for you." You say with a smile. He tries to say something but you cut him, already knowing he would say something against it, but in his heart, he really wanted it. "This saturday will begin with you taking a shower and doing whatever you want until i make luch, then, you´ll take a nap until down. During evening, i have a surprise for you."

"Baby girl, you know i don´t like surprises, even if they are nice, so tell me what it is." He pleaded.

"No baby girl today. Now, you are my baby boy, and will do as you are told. About the surprise, you´ll like it, don´t worry. Still, i´m not telling you." You winked.

He rolled his eyes and went to the bathroom. A few hours later lunch was ready. "Darling, do you have remedy for headache?" He asked you, because you were the one who usually had then, so his question was unexpected.

"Yes, i´m gonna get it." You go to your purse and reache him a pill. After lunch he was going to do the dishes but you sent him straight to bed, with a kiss on his lips and a soft smack on his ass, making him smile teasingly at you.

It was 4pm when you went to wake him. As you entered the bedroom you saw him shirtless tangled in your giant duvet. In your hands, you had a tray with boiled eggs, orange juice, and a sandwich of chicken with gratted carrot. The part of waking him, you left for Kal, who was standing by your side, waiting for your signal to wake his best friend. He patted the way through the bed, sniffing Henry´s feet who was out of the duvet. Henry sighed groggy, shifting in the bed. Kal got on the bed and went to lick Henry´s back. He turned to face Kal, opening his eyes and softly petting the dog´s head. Then, he turned to you. "Hello, my world." He says. You sat by his side on the bed and placed the tray on his lap. He kisses you on the cheek. "What i did to deserve this special treatment, may i know?" He asked. "Well, you worship me in every single way i could be worshiped, you give me love i didn´t know i deserved, and, the most important thing, you make me cum every week." He chuckled loud, smiling at you and saying "Well, maybe i should make you cum more, so i can always have special weekends." You grin and place your hand on his thigh, going up and down teasingly. "Maybe you should. You know, four times a week is enough for me." You joke. "Carefull with what you wish, my love. So, now it´s night, what is the surprise?"

You kissed him and gave a knowing smile, making him groan. " Now rest, dinner will be ready in a couple of hours, and you need to eat, my baby boy. Oh! And by the way, no going for a walk tonight. I´ll go with Kal to the park, but when i get home, i wanna see you doing nothing stressful, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am". He said with a pout.

After your walk, you put the lasagna in the oven and go to prepare things for the night. As you passed through the living room, you see your husband playing his video game. "Did your headache got better?" You asked as you seated by his side hugging his bicep. "Yes, that nap was heaven." He said as he didn´t took his eyes from the game. You untengled yourself from his arm and when you went to get up, you feel one giant arm embrace your waist and pull you backwards. You fall on Henry´s lap. With his other arm, he leans you to the side for a kiss. "Is this surprise anything that involves, i don´t know... my body? Since you comanded me to sleep all day."

"Yes, it does involve your body. But not in that way." You managed to say before your lips smashed togheter. "You are mine" he whispers as he lets you go. As you prepared the bedroom and the bathtub, you went to set the table. You both ate and did the dishes, Henry pestering you all the time, like a curious child.

"Now that everything is set on it´s place, can we go to the surprise part? It´s killing me!" He whined.

"Well, if you want it so much, lets go." He suddenly pulled you to a passionate kiss, sliding his hands with hunger to your ass, placing one between you legs, massaging your core. You break the kiss and push him away, one hand on his chest. "What have i told you? This is not the surprise." You grab his hand and guides him to the bedroom.

As he entered he saw candles everywhere and a chair by the bed. "Darling, if the surprise is not sex, then i really don´t know what it is." He says as he looked confused at you. You push him to seat on the bed. "My baby boy, i watched you on those videos that you send me of you training and i saw how stiff you were, you are to stressed. So, i´ll make you relax this night." You explain as you cup his cheek and with the pad of your thumb you massage his cheek. "Now, get naked." You command. He does as he is told. "Seat on the chair, but with your back turned to me." He straddles the chair. "hug the chair and straight your posture." As he does, you start to massage his shoulders. He flinches and let a pain sigh scape. He was too stiff. "My baby, so many knots. I can´t let you get to this state again." You start to work on it, making his shoulders go down slowly. When you were done, he inclines his head back, lips slightly parted. You grab both sides of his head and inclines it to expose his neck. You start to massage it, giving soft squeezes. You can feel his Adam´s apple. After you finish you say "Now, lay on the bad, back´s up." You straddle him and starts to work on his tensioned low back muscles, where he kept all his weight. After many minutes scrubbing and undoing knots, you went to his chest, feeling his defined abdominal muscles under your hands. You loved his broad chest, it made you feel safe and cozy. After he was entirely relaxed, you gave squeezes to his legs to release the accumulated tension.

The massage part was over. You sat beside his head on the bed and quietly says. "My baby, i´m finished." You say as you pet his head. "It´s my special night, so i demand more." He whispers, eyes still close. "Darling, your muscles are completely soft now, and the night is still not over." You took his hand and lead him to the bathroom. You had prepared the bathtub full of bubbles and soaps. "Get in there and seats in the middle." After he did, you seat behind him. Each of your legs on each side of his body. You pull him to lean on your chest. He hummes silently. "You are my favorite person on this universe. I must have been an angel in some other life to deserve you." He whispers.

"Well, i can´t say if you were or were not, but i certainlly was, because i got the most gentleman, loving, funny, smart, worshiping, prestative and handsome husband ever." You say as you place a kiss on his hair.

You both just stay there for a considerable time. After, you take a shower and go to bed.

"This was the best night of my life, dove."

"I´m glad you enjoyed it." You say as he pulls you closer, cuddling you. "You know how you were suggesting something before, then i started thinking..." You didn't finish your sentence with words, letting your actions take control. Your fingers went through his short's waistband and you grabbed his cock, already semi-hard, giving it gentle strokes. "Let me cockwarm you. I missed you these days, we didn't cuddled for so long!" You whisper, your lips hovering his. Before you could tell,he had already turned you over, back pulled to chest. You took off your pajamas and he entered you, making you gasp. Gosh, how you missed his giant cock. You both fall asleep in each other arms. The next day, you would give even more care to your baby boy.

#henry cavill #superman #dc universe #henry cavill fanfiction #fanfiction #geralt of rivia #henry cavil husband #henry cavill canon #witcher geralt #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavil x reader #henry cavil x y/n #august walker

[cosmos-coma]

Sick Days- Geralt

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Words: ~1.1k

Summary: You refuse to tell Geralt that you're sick and so he has to find out the hard way

__________________________________

“How are you doing back there, Y/n?” Geralt called back to you, he and Roach taking the lead on this narrow path.

The partly cloudy afternoon was more than welcome to you compared to the rain you had pushed through all day yesterday. And the day before. Ugh. 

Honestly, you liked rain as a whole, but the added chill in the air and the absolute soaking of your jacket left you feeling tired, feverish, and sniffly. You dared not let Geralt know that you were growing sick, the deadline to get to Novigrad was drawing closer and you refused to be the cause for missing it.

“Yep, yeah, I’m okay back here…” you lied. Your vision had begun spinning and your vision started lagging behind your eyes about 10 minutes ago. Your light tunic clung to your skin as your fever made you sweat relentlessly. Your various layers were laying across your horse in an unceremonious heap where you had left them and- wait, did you lose a jacket along the way? Hmm, you couldn't remember.

You let out a soft hum as a faint breeze cooled your skin and gave you a moment of relief from the sweltering heat.

 “Y/n?” Geralt called out to you, “did you hear what I said?”

“Hm? Oh, no… what were you saying?” Your eyes closed as you tried to listen, your ears only picking up garbled noises. You could feel your body begin to get to tired to hold itself together, but you had to fight through it. 

“Hmm, That’s interesting… “ you replied- well you're pretty sure that’s what you said. You… couldn’t be sure right now. Your consciousness filled with nothing more than a dense fog you couldn't seem to fan away. 

“Yes very interesting…” you slurred out as your mind finally forced your body to shut down and everything went dark.

“Y/n, you’re not making any sense- shit..!” Geralt turned just in time to see you fall off your horse with a great big THUD. A pathetic groan was the last sound your barely conscious body sent out as Geralt yelled again and ran to your limp body. 

“Y/n?” he shook you, “Fuck… and you’re burning up,” he commented and swiftly picked you up, your skin blazing and burning against his. “Let’s get you to an Inn, we’re done traveling for today…”

You woke up on clean linens, your body stripped down to its underclothes and covered in damp washcloths to keep you cool. “Hmm, Geralt...?” you grunted out as you sat up, rolled up cloth falling from your forehead, “Oh- nope, no, no, no... too dizzy…” you sighed and promptly laid down again. 

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty…” Geralt jested and sat on the edge of the bed- his expression slowly changing to something more sincere, his voice quieting as he urged you to take in the seriousness of his words. “You scared me back there… why didn’t you tell me that you were sick..? That you had a fever..?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find an adequate explanation, but it never came.

“You could have died if you’d fallen over a cliff's edge…if your head had hit rocks…” Geralt couldn’t even meet your eyes as he talked- instead opting to replace the damp cloths on your forehead. “You’re not as hearty as a Witcher is- you know that.” 

You frowned, feeling more and more like a scolded child as he spoke to you. You shook your head and glanced outside instead of anywhere near this conversation. 

“Y/n...” Geralt sighed, knowing exactly what you were doing, “Dear heart..?” he tried once more, finally catching your gaze. 

“I don’t mean to make your softness such a flaw- you know it's exactly what pulled me into you in the first place..” A small smile crept over his features as he briefly remembered your first meeting. “But you need to let me know when to slow down, okay? Remind me now and then to be a little softer too,” he spoke so quietly that you were sure nothing else in the world could have heard him but you. 

Your own expression reflected his smile and his whispered words fluttered around your heart “I will… I promise.” your fingers reached out for his, searching around until they captured his touch. “Oh, how long have I been out? We need to keep going” you urged, using your aching arm to bring his hand up to your lips in a soft kiss before you struggled to pull yourself upright.

But Geralt only laughed and shook his head as he helped you sit up, “now I see where Ciri gets her endless determination from- neither of you wants to stop for a minute to take care of yourselves.”

“We learned it from YOU, Geralt…” you grinned, sniffling as your nose threatened to run. 

Eyes rolling, his smile became even wider. “Anyways… I mean to say that you shouldn’t worry about it… we’ve been making good time, we can spare a day to let you rest and recover.” 

You nodded and relaxed a bit more, rolling your shoulder and cracking your back as you tried to get comfortable. “Good… Good, I really can’t fall off like that again. I feel like I just slammed shoulder-first into a shaelmaar…”

“I bet,” Your witcher snorted, a knowing smile hiding behind your hand as he brought it up to kiss in return. “Do you think some desert would make that shoulder feel any better?”

“Hmmmmmm, I think it’s a good start… that might help being sick but maybe you can rub my shoulder later..?” you grinned, knowing you were pushing it, but that hadn’t failed you yet. 

A genuine laugh pulled itself from Geralt as he stood, audible and even forming a faint crease around his eyes. For a witcher, it might as well have been a full belly laugh the way their stoic expressions dampen everything. 

You beamed and watched your handsome witcher as he headed off to get you dessert. You wouldn’t be surprised if his heart was as golden and lovely as his eyes were.  “Hey, Geralt? I love you…” 

“I love you too, Dear heart… no matter how soft you make me.” He said with a smile as he came back to your side and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

______________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

#geralt knows how to please you lol #Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #The witcher 3 #tw3 geralt #hurt/comfort #geralt fluff #Geralt hurt/comfort

[cuddly-dean-baby]

I saw your need for requests, and I come bearing a request! Could you write a Geralt/Male!Reader in which Geralt comes home super dirty and very tired but his boyfriend takes care of him ( I.e. bathes him, bushes his teeth/hair etc. pretty much whatever you feel like writing 😂); And then brings him to bed and tucks him in? Just anything super sweet and fluffy because he deserves all of that and more! Plus I’m a sucker for reverse comfort fics. Hopefully more requests come your way and you can get back into your writing groove! 💖💗

Pairing: Geralt x M!Reader Words: 337 A/N: So I decided to merge these two together since they’re kinda similar and I went off the top of my head, I don't know what I did

With his boots shuffling against the floorboards, he toes them off, noting in mind to clean the mud and blood off of them later on as he can’t be bothered right now. 

As he lifts his head up, he sees steam come out of the bathtub, knowing that his husband ran it for him. 

Geralt knows not to deny your love languages for him, so he strips out of his armour and clothes as he walks over to the bathtub. He eases his body into it, groaning in satisfaction as the heated water relaxes his muscles. He feels his eyes become droopy, so he closes them and rests.

He wakes up moments later to feel you brush his hair. Moaning a bit, he tilts his head to the side, feeling the plush of your thigh against his cheek as he closes his eyes again.

You smile, tying his white hair into a ponytail. “Food’s waiting for you.”

Geralt groans tiredly, meaning that he doesn’t want to move. “I’ve gotta clean my boots, clothes, and armour.”

“Already done, out on the line.”

He lifts his head off your thigh to look over at his said clothes and armour near the fire on a line, his boots clean of mud and blood. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jaskier runs in, going on about something.

“Jaskier!” Geralt growls out, making the bard shut up.

“Oh, sorry, coming back later.” Jaskier is out of your sight within seconds.

Geralt plops his face back against your leg, not liking how he got disturbed. He groans in disagreement as he feels you move out from the back of him. “Bed, now. I’ll bring you some food.”

As he’s about to say something again, you interrupt him. “Roach is fed and brushed.”

He finally gets out of the bathtub, feeling you dry his body with a warm towel. “Mm.” He leans his body against you, pushing his face against your neck.

“The scary Witcher going soft for his husband.”

“Shut up.”

Henry Cavill + Characters Tags @enchantedbytomandhenry

The Witcher Tags @justreadingficsdontmindme @chrisevansangel

#the witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #the witcher fic #the witcher fluff #the witcher x reader #the witcher x male reader #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x male reader #geralt fic #geralt fluff #geralt x reader #geralt x male reader

[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 2 - Geralt of Rivia

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

Word Count: 3,876

Warnings: reader is a brothel worker

Description:Part two to the first. FIRST PART HERE

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until you burned. 

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

Now you were gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Her contract-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

The day after he had you in his arms. 

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

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

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

“This is a busin-”

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

“I’m not a fucking babysitter-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I NEED TO -”

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

“I want to see her safe.”

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

“I have fought countless beasts-”

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

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

“Then what do you suggest?”

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

- 

Two months in and winter had finally come. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home. To find my sister.” 

“You have a family?” 

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

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

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

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

“You go first.”

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

“You must.” 

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

“Y/n-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was unrealistic. 

And you were obviously unwanted.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She didn’t come.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

Three months into this place had truly broken you. 

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

“I have a room for ye-” 

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“What do you want with Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now that I can swear on. Come.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please don’t be mad.” You whisper. 

“What has she done to you…..”

Part 3 on October 30th

@sagelovesreading

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

#geralt imagine #geralt smut #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fluff #geralt angst #the witcher smut #witcher fanfiction #the witcher angst #the witcher #witch #henry cavill #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fanfiction #gearlt #geralt #yennefer #jaskier #the witcher season 3 #the witcher season three #the witcher season 2 spoilers #the witcher seasonn 1

[ro-is-struggling]

The Ballad of Orpheus and Eurydice || Geralt of Rivia x nymph!reader

REQUESTED

Summary: Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy... Until they weren't and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her. Sad and heartbroken, she was unable to defend herself when the men came for her. Now locked up far away from her forest, she only hoped that her loved protector would come to her rescue.

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), major character death, reader gets imprisoned by a evil dude (I don't know how to tag this lol but I think it’s important to mention that she’s forced to serve him), fluff (it’s not all sad, I promise), forest nymph!reader, fem!reader, let me know if I missed anything!

English is not my first language

Word count: 12.700 (it's a long one)

Notes: A few things to have in mind while reading: It follows the timeline very loosely, and Geralt and Yen's relationship never got to that solid point in s3 cause it's not real love, just the product of Geralt binding their fates together with that wish

She never imagined that her story would end like this, locked in a cold and humid dungeon far away from her forest. Nymphs were not immortal beings —something she had come close to verifying several times in her long years on the continent—, so the idea of her inevitable end was something that she had thought about from time to time. It was not something that haunted her obsessively, but every once in a while her mind would wander to the imagining of the end of her days. 

She lived a quiet life, making sure to be cautious around any unwanted people who passed through her forest. She had no enemies, at least not ones powerful enough to present a real danger to her. So she always imagined that she would die a peaceful death, slowly fading away as her birth tree withered away after having completed its cycle on this earth. If not, she imagined she would die a heroic death as she fought the greedy humans to prevent the destruction of her forest. Both scenarios brought her a sense of comfort in a way, because they showed that she had fulfilled her life's mission, the purpose for which she had been placed on the continent.

She never imagined that the end of her days would actually be so dark and torturous, forced to live in captivity away from her home and everything she loved. She never thought she would miss the feel of the wind on her face, or the warmth of the early morning sun, or the sweet scent of flowers in the spring. She had never imagined herself living anywhere but her forest, but that was an option that had been taken away from her the moment King Elian's men set foot in her home. 

She had heard rumors of his infamous reputation from the mouths of other frightened nymphs. His name inspired terror among magical creatures, who chose to call him The Hunter as if the mere mention of his name was a sign of bad omens. He was known for his obsession with magical creatures and what he did with them after capturing them. Despite what his nickname implied, he did not always chase a magical creature to kill it and display some part of its body as a hunting trophy. No. There was a fate far more horrible and obscure than that, and that was to end up as a piece of his collection, just another exhibit, forced to smile in his presence and perform for his entertainment whenever he wanted it. It was the terrible fate that had unfortunately fallen upon her. 

In the past she had not seen King Elian as a threat. His kingdom was on the other side of the continent and while he used to go on hunting trips when he heard rumors of a creature in his vicinity, he had never ventured this far before. Besides, she was under the protection of one of the continent's fiercest witchers, so she knew no one would dare mess with her. No one who knew Geralt of Rivia would dare to challenge him, and the poor bastards who, out of ignorance or arrogance did, usually didn't live to tell the tale. The bond they had was strong, a love unlike any she had ever experienced in her many years of life, so she never thought there would be a day when she would wake up without him by her side.

"The king requires your presence." A guard announced from her cell door, snapping her out of her thoughts. She rose to her feet reluctantly, stepping up to the bars so he could put the handcuffs on her before unlocking her cell. The dimeritium on her wrists was engraved with the same symbols as the bars of the box in which she spent her days. It was a powerful incantation that weakened her magic so that she could not use her powers to escape. It was painful since the metal burned her skin, but she had learned the hard way not to complain.

The guard led her to the throne room, where the king was shouting directions to the group of servants working on decorating the place, changing the curtains and adding chairs and tables to the sides of the room. She had been there long enough to know that the castle was being prepared for a feast, though she did not know what the celebratory occasion was.

She forced herself to bow when the king's eyes fell upon her figure, though her expression showed how little respect she truly had for him. "Your majesty." She murmured as a learned response as she lowered her gaze to the ground.

"I hope you used your time in the dungeon to reflect on your attitude." His voice was firm, almost as if he was still angry with her for refusing to comply with his demands almost a week ago when he had wanted to use her to entertain the king of the neighboring kingdom who had come to visit. "You have to understand that you belong to me. You are here to serve me and the only reason you are not dead already is that I find you useful. But that can change and it depends entirely on how you behave. Do I make myself clear?"

She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue to avoid causing a scene that would undoubtedly send her straight to the dungeon again. "Yes, my king." She wasn't able to look him in the eye as she spoke as she didn't want to see the satisfaction in his expression. 

"As a demonstration of my great generosity and compassion, I have decided to give you a second chance to prove your loyalty. But do not mistake my mercy for stupidity for this will be your last chance to prove your worth to me. If you say or do anything out of place you will know the sharp blade of my sword."

After she submissively assured him that she understood the seriousness of his words, he explained that he needed her to take care of some of the preparations for the feast in honor of his daughter. During the week the entire kingdom had participated in the celebrations for the girl's fifteenth birthday, an event that would culminate with a grand banquet in the evening. She would be in charge of preparing the floral arrangements that would decorate the entire palace as well as being responsible for the main entertainment since there was nothing to match the singing of a nymph. But in addition, the king put her on a special task. He wanted to give his daughter a beautiful garden with different types of flowers —one for each year of her life—, and she was the perfect person for the job. She accepted without question, not so much because she valued her life or feared reprisals if she refused, but rather because after being locked up for so long she missed being in contact with nature. 

"If it's alright with you, my lord, I would like to start with the garden." She said in the most respectful way possible, explaining that with her powers weakened it was the task that would take the most work.

She was escorted by a group of half a dozen guards, who grabbed her roughly by the arms and dragged her through the castle corridors to the garden. Normally she would have complained about their mistreatment, but it all stopped mattering to her when she felt the gentle breeze hit the skin of her face. It was a wonderful feeling smelling the wet dirt in the air and hearing the birds singing after having spent so much time locked up in the deepest part of the castle. It almost felt like freedom.

Working in the garden awakened a bittersweet feeling in her. On the one hand, it was the most comfortable she had been since she arrived at the castle. Walking barefoot on the grass, feeling the earth between her toes and the flowers growing under her hands was as close to home as she had ever been. It was liberating in a way, putting her powers to good use and connecting with the nature she missed so much. But, on the other hand, it was also a reminder of all that she had lost, the life she would never get back. As much as she loved being outside after so many days locked up, she couldn't help but notice that nothing felt like home. The flowers didn't smell the same, the grass under her feet wasn't as soft, and even the birds didn't sing the same. That wasn't her home. This was not her forest. 

As she buried her hands in the ground, she couldn't help but question what she was doing, and more importantly, why she was doing it. Sure, avoiding further punishment for disobeying the king's orders was a valid motivation, but was it really worth it? Why was she trying to preserve her life when the only future she had was to live locked up there forever? Was dying such a terrible fate when the alternative was imprisonment and slavery? A life away from her home, forced to indulge the whims of a power-hungry monster was no life at all, so why was she there obeying the orders of that disgusting man? 

Then she realized that she still held out hope of escaping. Her spirit wasn't completely crushed and her love for Geralt wasn't entirely gone, so even if it was foolish, she still hoped he would show up to rescue her. They hadn't seen each other for over a year, since that sad day when their story had met an abrupt end after he confessed to her that there was another woman in his life, but she still held out hope of seeing him again. She dreamed of seeing his long white hair move in the air as he skillfully knocked down the guards that separated them and freed her from her confinement. How could she not when he had been her savior on more than one occasion? In fact, that was how they had met.

She was frightened and hurt the first time she saw him, trapped in a cage with symbols carved into the bars. It was a powerful spell that weakened her powers just like the shackles of dimeritium around her wrists. The cage was too small for her, a confined space where she could barely stretch her legs or sit up straight if she wanted to. A group of well-trained men had managed to capture her, taking advantage of her distraction and temporary weakness to lock her up and take her back to their master. She was so terrified that when she heard Geralt's sword clash with that of one of her attackers, she curled up in a corner, her body folding in on itself in an attempt to make herself small and invisible to the group of fighting men. 

She recognized immediately that he was a witcher and that brought her no relief. While his kind generally didn't tend to see nymphs as dangerous monsters —as long as they behaved and didn't do anything to end up on their list, of course— she didn't feel completely safe in the presence of a witcher. She tended to hide on the occasions when one passed through her forest, believing it was best to stay away from people like that just in case. After all, they were monster hunters, a concept that, in her experience, meant something different to each individual and there was no way of knowing for sure if she fell into that category or not. So, even though he had overpowered her captors, she still felt fear when he approached.

Geralt felt that fear as soon as he took a step towards her, it was almost as strong as the power and magic that flowed from her being. Her beauty alone was enough to let him know that she was a nymph of the forest. Behind the earth and blood, hidden in a grimace of terror, were the delicate features that the witcher had only seen in the creatures of her kind that he had encountered in the past. The nymphs had a certain look, a special glow that distinguished them from the rest of the magical beings on the continent. They were also one of the gentlest and most peaceful creatures on the continent, focused only on protecting their homes and turning to violence only as a last defense mechanism. That was why Geralt did not sense a drop of evil in her. And that was also why he set out to free her from her confinement.

Even though her captors lay dead on the ground, she still looked terrified, her eyes glassy with tears and her lower lip trembling as she struggled to hold back a sob. When he approached her, the nymph snuggled further into the corner, pulling her knees to her chest in a protective manner. He raised his hands in the air in an attempt to show her that he was not going to hurt her, walking slowly toward the cage so he could release her. It was then that he noticed the symbols on the bars and the dimeritium shackles, which helped him understand how she had ended up there and why she was so scared. She was in a position of extreme vulnerability without her magic and, despite having saved her, he was a complete stranger who could very well cause her more trouble. So the witcher made an effort to appear friendly and non-threatening.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He told her to try to calm her down, though it wasn't much help. She curled further into the corner of the cage, hugging her legs to her chest and looking up at him with watchful eyes from between her knees.

"I know what you are." She answered him, the fear clear in her voice. "You are a witcher, you kill-"

"Monsters, yes." Geralt spoke for her. "But you are not one of them. You're safe with me." 

At that moment she had no way of knowing what kind of impact those words would have on her life and how genuine they were. She accepted his help because she had no other choice, but time would show her how fortunate she had been to cross paths with Geralt. At first he played hard to get, barely speaking as she nursed his wounds once her powers stabilized. She'd had to resort to using her charms a little to soften that hard exterior of his, but once Geralt began to open up to her, she discovered the man he truly was. 

Geralt tended to lean into rumors about himself and his kind, pretending to be emotionless and not caring about anything or anyone but himself. But that was all an act, a protective shield. In reality he cared. He was capable of feeling emotions as deeply as any other being on the continent. He hated and held grudges, but he also loved and cared for those close to him just as intensely. And once she discovered that, she found it very easy to love him back. 

She was truly safe with him, and in the long years that their love blossomed he did nothing but prove that to her. Geralt was her favorite person in the world. He was her home, her lover, her protector... A love like that was not easily forgotten and no one could blame her for holding out even the slightest hope that he would come for her, that he would somehow sense that she was in danger and rush to her rescue. It had happened in the past, their connection was that strong, so it wasn't an entirely far-fetched idea. It was just... naive of her.

Geralt had been traveling for days. He usually preferred to use alternative paths hidden behind forests or swamps, they were quieter and better for his business. Not many people used them so he didn't run into anyone that would bother him, and it was easy to run into the occasional monster roaming around, so it was a win-win situation for everyone. What he hated, however, was that most of the time it took him twice as long to get to some town where he could rest with minimal comforts and eat a hot meal. 

Had he taken the main road he would probably already be at his destination, drinking in the dark corner of some dingy bar or locked in the room of some cheap inn, and not wandering the forest in search of an animal big enough to satisfy his appetite. He didn't mind being outdoors or having to hunt for his food on the spot —-in fact he was so used to that he almost preferred it—, but this time he was tired and couldn't wait to be anywhere but there. Perhaps that was why when he came across a king and his hunting party he accepted his offer to return to his camp to eat with him without putting up much of a fight. 

Geralt hated royalty and King Elian was no exception. He was arrogant and self-absorbed, just like the vast majority of kings, but there was something else about him that rubbed the witcher the wrong way. He tried to decline his offer at first, but he was unwilling to take no for an answer.

"I'm afraid I will have to insist. My camp is not far from here and my tent is big and warm. I have more than enough food and I would love to hear some of your stories while we eat." The king insisted, pressing Geralt to accept his offer. "My men don't make for good company and I'm bored. I'm sure a witcher like you has been involved in a good share of adventures that make for fascinating stories."

In any other circumstances, Geralt would have found a way to escape from there. The last thing he wanted was to be used as the personal entertainment of an arrogant king. But this time he decided not to resist too much. He attributed it to his tiredness, he had been traveling for a long time and at least it wouldn't be a sacrifice in vain since he could at least get food in exchange for entertaining him for a while. But perhaps there was something more than that playing a role there. Fate itself had crossed their paths for a reason, even though he didn't know it yet.

"It's not as interesting or glorious as one might think." Geralt said with honesty. 

In his experience there were two types of opinions regarding his people and what they did for a living. There were the people who despised them for what they were and believed they were no different than the monsters they killed and there were those who found them fascinating and longed to go on adventures like the ones they often experienced. To him both opinions were bullshit. He wasn't a monster, he didn't kill for pleasure or for fun as many people believed, but neither was he some kind of hero whose life was worthy of being immortalized in songs and poems. He was just a man who did what he knew best to survive, just like all witchers and all beings on the continent. He and his kind did not deserve hatred, but neither did they deserve to be crowned with laurels. They deserved to be left in peace, nothing more, nothing less.

"I have to say I'm grateful for the work you and your kind does." The king continued speaking without acknowledging Geralt's words. It was as if he was not there, his words were of little value to the king when they did not say exactly what he wanted to hear from him. "These creatures are dangerous and can't be left alone to live amongst us. Although some are fascinating creatures if given proper care and purpose."

Geralt looked at the monarch with a frown, unsure of what he meant by that. He said nothing, however, just remained silent for most of their journey to the camp, while trying to get a better read on the man beyond the typical arrogance of all of his kind. There was something about him that he did not like, something that caused a feeling that other kings and nobles did not. It was something more than his simple unpleasant personality, but he could not figure out what it was.

"You should come to my kingdom sometime." King Elian offered as they finally reached what appeared to be the camp where he and his hunting party had set up their base. "I have a collection of creatures I'm sure you would love to see."

The witcher halted his walk, looking at the king with narrowed eyes. "A collection?"

"Oh yes! I have the biggest collection of magical creatures in the whole continent." He admitted as if it was something to be proud of. "I have some pretty rare ones I'm sure you and your people would love to study. You're more than welcome to come over anytime! After all, we are all on the same side."

Geralt did not like the way the king referred to magical creatures and hated that he equated himself with witchers and the work they did. They didn't lock up monsters to brag about their large collection to strangers. They didn't see them as objects that gave them some kind of prestige. They saw them as living creatures, sometimes dangerous, sometimes misunderstood. Witchers did not enslave or kill monsters for fun as he seemed to do and Geralt was disgusted that he would even try to imply such a thing.

However, before he could voice his opinion, the king shoved him into his luxurious tent and the servants set a plate of food in front of him. It was filled with meat and potatoes and vegetables so colorful that they must have been freshly picked. It might have been the hunger talking, but it was the most appetizing food he had tasted in a long time. It was indeed fit for a king and Geralt thought it was definitely worth chatting with his host for a while in exchange for a share, especially after tasting the wine.

"It's good, isn't it?" the king asked him, studying his reaction as he lifted the wine glass to his mouth. "I have someone special that takes care of all the plants in the castle so I only eat the best of the best. It's actually one of my creatures. You can meet her, if you want."

Geralt let go of the piece of meat between his fingers and looked at the king with a frown. There was a subtle change in the air that made him instinctively tense, wondering what his host was up to. The king gave him a small smile before gesturing to one of his men, who left the tent without saying a word. The monarch's menacing aura put the witcher on alert, carefully watching his every move while he ate as if trying to predict what he would do next. His attitude had changed in a matter of seconds. Geralt couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but there was something about the way he looked back at him that put him on edge. It was almost as if he was waiting for something to happen —as if he knew something was going to happen—, the glow of anticipation clear in his eyes. 

He didn't understand his attitude, at least not until the guard returned to the tent. Only he wasn't alone, but was carrying a girl on his arm who was shuffling her bare feet across the ground hesitantly, as if she really didn't want to be there. Her eyes were downcast and her long hair was tangled over her face, so that Geralt could not see her features. Her dress, which seemed to have been a beautiful piece of art at one time, was now dirty and worn, with the fabric torn to shreds on some sides. Her hands were bound together at her wrists, trapped by shackles of dimeritium that marked her condition of slavery. It was a sad sight that became horrifying when Geralt smelled the scent of flowers in the air.

His heart stopped as his nostrils were assaulted with the sweet smell of cherry blossom that he knew and had come to love. The world around him stopped as he was struck with the horrible realization of what was happening. He did not need to see the face of the captured young woman to know it was her. It was enough to feel her energy in the tent as he breathed in her characteristic sweet scent. 

Geralt jumped to his feet, hand gripping his sword as he entered a state of desperation. He wasn't thinking, he couldn't, he had been reduced to his most primitive instincts by seeing her there in that condition. She was weak and injured in a way that Geralt had never seen, her glow and warm, positive energy almost completely extinguished after being tortured for who knows how long. However, when her eyes met his, he noticed a slight glimmer of joy and hope. That only further increased his desire to protect her, the murderous urge growing inside him and urging him to crush anyone who stood between them.

"Let her go!" Geralt demanded firmly, turning his eyes away from his former lover to look the king in the eyes. 

He was furious and desperate, it was evident in his voice and in the hard expression on his face. Anyone would have given in to his demands if he looked at them with those murderous eyes, but King Elian did not flinch. He didn't seem to care that Geralt was pointing his sword at him or that he looked ready to take on an army on his own, he continued to eat as if nothing was happening while the tent filled with guards ready to defend him.

"Please, sit down. You barely touched your food." The monarch spoke in a calm, casual tone. But Geralt did not move, he stood his ground, sword held high and hate-filled eyes fixed on him. "Fate is its a curious thing, don't you agree? This invisible force pushing us to the right path so we might fulfill our destiny, making every little interaction, every little decision, integral... Take this as an example. This morning when I woke up I didn't think that I was going to cross paths with you and yet here we are."

"Let. Her. Go." Geralt interrupted the king's unimportant ramblings, pausing slightly at each word to emphasize his anger. He didn't care what the man had to say, he would slice him through with his sword right there if it weren't for the fact that his sweet nymph was bound and surrounded by guards who wouldn't hesitate to hurt her before he could get to her. "I won't ask again. Next time it will be my sword doing the talking."

"I don't want to fight you, Geralt. If anything, I want to thank you for helping me fulfill my destiny, my purpose of becoming the biggest collector of magical creatures in the continent... You see, if it weren't for you, I could never have captured a forest nymph as powerful as her. I admit that you ruined my plans the first time when you attacked my men, but in the end it was thanks to you that I was able to get my hands on her."

"What are you talking about?" the witcher asked, confused. It could be the adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning out his thoughts —or the fact that his heart was beating so fast that it was pounding in his ears muffling all other sounds—, but the king wasn't making much sense to him. They had never crossed paths before, and if they had, he would never have helped him in something so horrible.

"I could never have caught her while she was under your protection. But when you left... well, let's just say she was withering away little by little, weakening day by day until she got to the point where she couldn't defend herself when my men came for her."

Geralt froze in place as the king's words echoed in his head. It was a lot of information to process and he was in no condition to do so. If he wasn't so devastated he might have reacted to the implication that the king had been watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike after he had saved her from his men the day they had met. But at that moment he could only concentrate on the feelings of guilt and regret that came over him. 

When he left, he never thought about the consequences his decision might have. He never thought about how his departure would affect her or if she would be okay. He knew she would be sad and hurt, just as it hurt him to have to leave her, but he also knew it was the right thing to do. So he focused on moving on, hoping she would too, without stopping to consider the consequences. He thought about her a lot in the time they spent apart —when he lay awake at night, admiring the stars and the nocturnal sounds of the woods; or as he dressed quietly after spending a night with Yennefer—, but in his mind he always pictured her happy. She was strong and had lived many years alone on the continent before their paths crossed, so he was sure that their breakup would not destroy her. He was sure that she would find a way to get back on her feet and that it would be better for the both of them to stay apart. 

Now he realized that was just an excuse. He was being selfish, protecting himself and running away from reality so as not to face it because it hurted him. It hurted to know that he was hurting her. It hurted that he fell in love with another woman behind her back. It hurted to have to leave her after all they had been through together, the love they shared, the moments of vulnerability and intimacy that had brought them together. It hurted because he had failed her, because he couldn't keep his promise to be with her forever. So he completely disappeared from her life, making excuses to justify his behavior and convince himself that he was doing the right thing even though he knew deep down that he wasn't. He ran away like a coward and she ended up paying the price for it.

The witcher's eyes searched the nymph's, hoping to find in them the answers to the questions he had not asked, some indication that the king was not lying. She escaped his gaze, feeling embarrassed and extremely vulnerable. But eventually their gazes met and Geralt knew the mistake he had made. He should have been there for her. He should have helped her when they came for her. He should have searched for her all over the continent once he noticed her disappearance. He should have protected her, just as he always had. He had failed her twice, but he would not let there be a third.

Geralt carried out his threat without hesitation, lashing out at the nearest soldiers in an effort to reach her. The clinking sound of clashing swords and the groans of his opponents were all that echoed in his mind, focusing on his enemy to keep his head cool and ensure victory. They were no threat to him. They were well trained and knew how to move around very well, but he was a witcher with decades of experience and unmatched reflexes and skills. He had defeated them once in the past and he would do it again now without breaking a sweat.

At least that's what he thought before he heard the voice of the young nymph in the distance calling out for him.

“Geralt!” She exclaimed his name for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Her sweet voice traveled through the air, piercing through the sound of metal and the grunts of pain until it reached his ears. She managed to get his attention immediately as he recognized the hint of fear in it. As he buried his sword in his opponent, his eyes snapped up to her, searching for her in the crowd following the sound of her voice. 

When he finally found her, Geralt's heart sank as he discovered the reason for the fear in her voice. The king had his hands around her, holding her tightly against his body. His left hand was wrapped around her torso, restricting her movement, while his right hand wielded a silver dagger against her neck. The metal gleamed in the dim light, revealing the sharp edge that burned the girl's skin. Desperate, Geralt tried to lunge at the monarch, but he stopped him with a click of his tongue.

"One more step and she dies." He assured, firmly. Geralt noticed the honesty in his voice, so he stayed in place and slowly lowered his sword —though he did not drop it—, a desperate attempt to buy time to think of a plan to get out of there with her by his side.

"You don't have to do this." Geralt tried to reason with him even though he knew it was in vain. He didn't see her as more than an object, just another piece in his long collection of creatures, so it was safe to assume he didn't value her life very much. But still, Geralt didn't have much choice so he tried anyway.

"She has been nothing but trouble since the moment she arrived at the castle, isn't that right, darling?" The king grumbled, lowering his head just slightly so he could mutter the last question against the young nymph's ear. "Crying all day, disobeying my orders, upsetting the other creatures... and now your friend over here kills half my men after I feed him and show him my generosity."

"If we present so much trouble to you, why don't you let us go? I'll take her with me and I promise you won't hear from us ever again."

"You are ungrateful brats." The king continued speaking, completely ignoring Geralt's words. "You think you are special, important, and therefore above it all... but you are not. Your actions have consequences and I am the one who decides what they are... You do not deserve my generosity or my mercy."

Geralt didn't have time to think about the hypocrisy in the monarch's words because before he could process them his eyes watched in horror as he slid the blade of the dagger across his beloved's neck. Blood began to gush violently from the wound, the thick, sticky liquid sliding down the young woman's delicate skin, turning everything red. He screamed her name, his sword slipping from his fingers and crashing to the floor with a muffled sound. He ran towards her, completely forgetting the guards he was fighting moments before. He only cared about her.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was moving in slow motion, as if his feet were twice as heavy and dragging them along the ground was more difficult than usual. Everyone around him seemed to slow down, the men around him, the gentle breeze of the wind... everything but her. He watched her collapse to the ground, blood covering her chest as she struggled to keep breathing. But he couldn't reach her. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms one more time, but it was as if an abyss was keeping them apart. It felt as if fate was mocking him, punishing him for his mistakes by allowing him to be there with her, but not letting him do anything to save her. 

He tried to stop the bleeding as he knelt beside her —placing his hands on her neck and feeling the blood gushing from the wound—, but it was too late. She was pale and weak, all the magic in the world could not have saved her at that moment. There were tears in her eyes, in those beautiful green orbs that were fading with each passing second. She was scared, Geralt could see it in her expression. She didn't want to go, but she knew there was nothing else to do now.

"I'm here, I'm here." Geralt whispered in the calmest, most comforting tone he was capable of uttering at that moment. He swallowed his anger and pain, holding back tears so he could give her some peace. He cradled her face in his hands, fingers caressing the skin of her cheeks delicately as if he were afraid of breaking it. "It's going to be okay... you're going to be okay. I will fix this."

She opened her mouth in an attempt to speak, but instead of sound only blood came out. Geralt caressed her gently, feeling the tears rolling down her cheeks. She clutched her hand around his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. She was begging him to understand her, to read in her eyes her thoughts as he had done so many times in the past. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand her, although in hindsight it should have been obvious to him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to assure him that none of it was his fault and that no matter what had happened between them, he would own her heart forever. 

"I love you. I always will."

Geralt saw the reassurance in her face as the warmth of love enveloped her in her last moments. She gave him the faintest of smiles, an almost invisible sign of the peace his words had brought her. And then her grip on his arm weakened, her hand dropping to the floor as life left her body. Suddenly, that subtle smile, now permanently carved into her expression, was all he had left of her, of her life and the love they shared. 

Geralt did not fight when the soldiers dragged him and tied him to a tree to leave him there to die while they escaped, he did not have the strength to do so. He was numb to the world around him, consumed by grief. The sound of the king and his men preparing to leave sounded muffled and distant, as if they were far away from him. And in a way they were, for his mind was not one with his body, but far away. He was focused on the slowly withering body of his beloved, on the fear as she called his name and the terror in her eyes as the edge of the dagger sealed her fate. He could only think of her and all the time they had lost and could never get back, feeling the guilt slowly consuming him as her body transformed into a pile of pink petals.

Geralt admired her face in the dim glow of the candlelight, thinking about how beautiful she looked tangled in the sheets beside him. Her hair spread across the pillow like a halo around her head and her smooth skin was covered with a light layer of sweat that gave her an almost ethereal glow. It felt like an illusion, a trick of his mind. He found it hard to believe he had someone like her lying next to him, looking at him with love in her eyes. 

It wasn't just her beauty. No. It was the peace her mere presence awakened in him and the void he felt in his chest when they were apart. It was the way he dreamed of her and her caresses every night he went to bed alone and how his longing disappeared when he felt her warmth against him as their bodies melted into one. It was the way her kisses made him feel like he was home, safe and away from the complications of the world outside the little paradise that was her forest. It was much more than physical attraction, more than the effects of her nymph charm, as he had initially thought. It was love. Pure, honest love, like he had never felt before. He was in love with her, and while he hadn't put it into words yet, he wasn't afraid to admit it.

Her fingers aroused a warm tingle as they caressed his cheek. Geralt leaned into it, closing his eyes for a second to appreciate the magic of the moment. It was amazing how such a subtle act, such a light touch, was able bring out so many emotions in him. It was something only she could do, a clear demonstration of how deep his feelings for her were.

However, when Geralt opened his eyes again, he didn't find the special glow he usually saw in them at intimate moments like this. She was looking straight at him, but it was as if she was looking right through him, as if her mind was lost in her thoughts. Something was bothering her, that much was clear in the green tint of her eyes. Her mouth would open slightly, almost in an imperceptible movement, only to close seconds later, as if there was something she wanted to tell him but couldn't quite bring herself to say. So he decided to ask her about it. 

"What's wrong?" Geralt voice was low and raspy with sleep, looking at her with a slight frown in confusion. There was a moment of silence before she answered. Her eyes never left his, but her hand slowly slid from his cheek to rest on his bare chest.

"I'm afraid of losing you." She eventually said, her voice almost a whisper. "You travel across the continent, meet all kinds of people... I'm afraid one day you will get bored of me... find someone better and leave me forever."

Geralt could not believe his ears. It was ridiculous to him that she could have such a fear of abandonment when he felt the way he did. If only she knew how happy being with her made him... If only he could somehow transfer his emotions to her so that she could feel his heart race when they kissed, or experience the peace that filled him inside every night when he lay down next to her... If only she knew, she wouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts. So, he took her hand in his and pressed it against the left side of his chest, right over where his heart was beating with love for her. She needed to know that she was the only one who had a permanent place there. She was the only one he loved and he doubted that would ever change.

"Believe me when I tell you that there is no force on this continent that can keep me away from you." He spoke in a soft voice and watched as her eyes lit up full of illusion. "I love you, forever and always."

He sealed his promise with a kiss, showing her with his lips how serious he was about it. He loved her and there was nothing he wanted to do more than to be with her for the rest of his life, sharing intimate moments like this one and protecting her from any evil that might come her way. He felt complete with her and could not imagine how miserable his life would be without her by his side.

Geralt allowed himself to get lost in the passion of the moment, fingers tracing trails over his beloved's bare skin as he melted into the kiss. It was different this time, more intimate and charged with all the emotions that were left unsaid —it was their special way of communicating, one kiss and they knew what was going through each other's minds. The comforting warmth of love filled his heart, leaving him in a state of total bliss as she whispered sweet nothings against his lips. He was happy in a way he could not remember ever being before, in a way he knew he could only be with her. 

But suddenly that comforting warmth that flooded his insides was replaced by a paralyzing cold, an emptiness that pressed against his chest and took his breath away. Geralt could no longer feel his beloved's lips against his. He could no longer smell the flowery scent her soft skin radiated or feel the warmth of her body. He was trapped in a black void, in emptiness itself, all alone. And in the distance he could hear his name being called.

Geralt

Geralt

Geralt

It was a cry for help, the voice of terror of someone who had been confronted with their own mortality. The voice trembled with fear, certain of the fatal fate that awaited them. Geralt could not escape its shrieks, no matter how hard he tried. It was his own personal hell, a void where he was forced to confront his pain, his guilt, and to listen again and again to his beloved's voice filled with terror as she spoke his name for the last time.

Geralt woke up tangled in the sheets, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and breathing fast due to his nightmare. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling as he tried to pull himself together. His beloved's voice was still ringing in his ears, only that with every waking second it became more and more distant until it became an almost unintelligible whisper. Anguish and guilt weighed heavy on his chest, but he was used to that by now. The emptiness inside him had accompanied him every moment of his life since that unfortunate day. He could not escape the pain and regret he felt, it haunted him even when he closed his eyes at night. He could not even enjoy the peaceful ignorance in the mornings, when one's mind is too sleepy to process life's tragedies, because his nightmares would remind him of every painful detail of that day so that he could not rest.

At a time like this, when life had become so overwhelming that he was unable to sleep, he usually reached out to her. With her gentle touch and sweet voice she was always able to calm his tormented self, wash away the anger and frustration and replace it with love and calmness. But now she was gone and he didn't know how to go on. He missed her more than he thought it was possible to miss anyone. He missed the melodious sound of her laughter and the light in her eyes when she was happy. He missed waking up next to her in the mornings, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping him as she whispered good morning to him, her voice hoarse from sleep. He wished he could once again feel the soft caress of her lips on his and hear her say she loved him one more time. 

There was nothing Geralt wasn't willing to do to have her back with him, to be able to tell her how much he loved her and how he regretted leaving her. He had been an idiot to have given in to his desires for Yennefer. He should never have gotten involved with her, he should have let her own greed and obsession destroy her that day. He should have saved Jaskier and moved on with his life, after all Yennefer's problems were of no concern to him. But he could not resist his need to intervene, acting like a knight in shining armor instead of what he really was: a witcher. He made an impulsive decision, binding their destinies with magic and unknowingly triggering the death of his beloved. For if only he had been with her, if only he had stayed by her side to protect her as he had promised, he was sure things would be very different. She would still be alive and he would not be so miserable.

But Geralt was determined to make things right. He refused to let her die because of his mistakes. And looking at the cherry blossom tree growing outside his window, he knew the time was getting closer.

"I will fix this." He spoke to the tree, stroking the trunk with his hand as he sucked in a long breath of air. It smelled like her, a sweet scent mixed with the aroma of wood and wet earth. It ached and comforted him in equal amounts. "I will bring you back to me and I will keep my promise to you this time."

Geralt knew she was gone, but her essence was still alive in that tree. Born from the pink petals in which her body had withered when she died, it grew stronger with each day, keeping a fragment of her alive. Of course it was not her, but for now he was happy to make promises to the wind that its branches generated, clinging to the sweet scent of its flowers as the only sign that his words were well received by her. It was all he had, all he had left of her, and for now that was enough. He still wasn't sure how he would fulfill his promises or even where to begin. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that his love for her was stronger than fate itself and there was no force on the continent that could stop him from keeping his promise this time.

The solution to his dilemma presented itself almost by accident. And it came from the place Geralt least expected. He had spent the last few months visiting every library he had access to, reading every book and consulting with every expert he knew in his desperate search to find a way to bring his beloved back to life. But in the end, it was Jaskier who presented him with a solution in the form of a song. 

They were traveling on a back road after a successful job. The bard had offered to accompany him under the excuse that he needed new inspirations, but Geralt knew he was doing it because he didn't want to leave him alone. Jaskier knew the pain he felt and being the good friend he was he wanted to accompany him in mourning. Geralt appreciated him even if he didn't have the strength to say it in words. His light-hearted comments and meaningless ramblings were exactly what he needed to distract his tormented mind. Even his spontaneous singing at the worst possible moment cheered him up instead of irritating him as usual. Anything to help him concentrate on something else was welcomed.

They had been walking for hours, hoping to reach the next town before dark and sleep in a comfortable bed in a warm room and not in the middle of the forest again. They were quiet, only the chirping of birds and the sound of leaves crunching under their feet echoed in the air. They had run out of things to talk about an hour ago and Jaskier was starting to get bored. So he did what he always did when he found himself in that situation, sing. Only this time Geralt didn't recognize the verses as one of his own original songs. It was one he had not heard him sing before, so he paid attention.

It told the story of a young man that had managed to win the heart of a forest nymph with his beautiful singing. The connection they shared was so strong that they married shortly after meeting, in the same place where they first saw each other. Happiness and love filled their days for a few long and joyful months. That was until fate, jealous and bitter, stood in the way of their happiness. So, one morning, after being bitten by a snake, the young nymph died. Her beloved fell into a state of despair when he heard the tragic news. Unable to accept that his wife had been taken from his life without warning, he descended into the depths of the underworld to plead for her soul. The song narrated the difficulties of his journey and the perseverance with which he had faced each difficulty until he reached the lord of the underworld himself, to whom he tearfully begged for the return of his wife. The emotion in his words was such that he managed to move Hades, who gave in to his prayers. Although he imposed a condition: that he would not turn around to see his wife's soul following his steps until he left the underworld.

The story did not end well since the young man had been too eager and had turned to see his beloved before she was completely above ground. But Geralt didn't care about that somber detail. His attention was focused on the young man and his journey to the underworld, not only because he felt somehow connected to the emotions of sadness and despair he felt, but also because he was fairly certain he could recreate his heroic efforts.

"Are you crazy?" was Jaskier's reaction to hearing Geralt's idea, his voice raised in a tone of surprise and concern. "Haven't you heard the end of the song? Things go wrong! He doesn't get his wife back!"

“I know, but I don’t care.”

“Geralt, the story it’s just a myth… a tragic love story that one could say is a cautionary tale! You’re not supposed to follow in his footsteps, you’re supposed to learn to live with the grief, process your emotions and eventually move on… Look, I know this is hard for you. I miss her too… What happened to her wasn’t fair, but it wasn't your fault either. Blindly following the words of a myth is not going to change anything.”

“But it’s not a myth, not all of it at least.” Geralt recognized that the love story of the young man and the forest nymph might be an invention, but he knew of the existence of a door to the underworld. It was hidden and required great power and extensive knowledge of magic to be opened, but it was real. And fortunately for him, he knew one of the most powerful and skilled mages on the continent. Though convincing her to help him would not be an easy task given how things had ended between them.

"Why should I help you?" Yennefer said with annoyance in her voice when he showed up unannounced to ask for her help. It was clear that she did not enjoy the witcher's surprise visit and was not shy about showing it. "And more importantly, why are you asking for my help with something like this? I thought you of all people would know how dangerous opening the doors of the underworld is."

"Why do you care?" Geralt answered her with another question. To be honest, he didn't think the difficulties in getting her help would come from a moral issue. Yennefer was not the type of mage who cared too much about such things. "Are you in this or not?"

"That depends... what's in it for me? I hope you know I'm not going to waste my energy in helping you out of the goodness of my heart, not after all the shit you did." Geralt smiled at her remark, surprised that it had taken her so long to once again blurt out her complaints about him saving her life. She was still angry at him for linking their destinies with the wish to the Djinn and at this point he doubted she would ever get over it. 

"You get the once in a lifetime chance to traverse the underworld and possibly get knowledge beyond anyone's comprehension." He simply stated.

Yennefer was silent for a moment, watching Geralt intently, violet eyes piercing his yellow orbs. It alerted him to strengthen his mental shield to keep her from entering his thoughts. 

"When you live as long as I have, once in a lifetime opportunities start losing power and meaning."

"I'm offering you an opportunity to explore the unexplored and that's your answer? This could have all the answers you've spent years looking for and you're not interested?"

"Oh I'm interested, I just can't understand why Geralt of Rivia, the mighty witcher who prides in his indifference and ability to not intervene, would be interested in opening the gates to the underworld?"

"I have my reasons and they are not of your concern. Are you going to help me or not?"

Yennfer was silent for a moment, considering her options. And then, she smiled at him, and he knew he could count on her help.

Preparing for such an adventure was difficult. It was the first time in his life that Geralt did not know what to expect. He had no idea what he was going to encounter once they crossed the gates to the world of the dead. He didn't know what kind of obstacles he would encounter on the journey or if he would even accomplish his task. But he had to try. Even if it was the last thing he did, he owed it to her. 

It was difficult to prepare for the uncertain, so he tried to imagine all possible scenarios and prepare accordingly. He tried to be as meticulous as possible, but he knew it was impossible to stay on top of everything. What he never imagined, however, was that trouble would come from Yennefer's end. He always saw her as such a powerful and determined individual that he did not take into consideration that her energy could wear out and her magic could be consumed. Geralt had no way of really knowing how demanding the spell to open the gates of the underworld would be. He knew it was not something that just anyone could do, but he thought Yennefer could handle it without much trouble. He had never seen magic like hers. And what she lacked in skill, she made up for in stubbornness, so he thought that with her by his side things would not be so difficult.

However, the moment they took a step into the world of the dead, Yennefer fell weakly into the witcher's arms. She muttered something about having spent her energy and how the nature of the place did not allow her to pull herself together. Geralt suggested that she stay outside, after all, this wasn't her fight and she didn't have to risk so much for him. And at that instant, as if the walls were listening to them, the doors closed, leaving only one possible path.

The place was cold and dark, like a cave hidden deep in a mountain. There was not so much as a ray of sunlight, the little light that illuminated their way came from torches distributed along the stone walls. The air was heavy, stale, and it was hard to breathe. It was clear that this was no place for the living, but Geralt continued on his way despite the difficulties. He took Yennefer by the waist, letting her wrap one arm around his shoulders so she could walk, and followed the straight path that the torches seemed to indicate. At the end of the tunnel he came to a large river, and on the shore rested a boat. Inside it stood a hooded figure, long black robes covered its entire body in a way that Geralt could not see its face when it turned to look at them, only a void lost inside the hood.

"He's been waiting for you." The figure spoke, stepping aside so they could board the boat. Geralt hesitated, thinking back to all the catastrophic scenarios he had imagined in preparation for this moment. Surely that had to be a trap, things couldn't be that simple, could they?

"He wants to speak to you, Geralt of Rivia." The figure spoke again as it noticed the hesitation in the witcher's attitude. "He sent me to find you and ensure your safe passage through these waters." He did not trust it, but Yennefer pushed him into the boat with what little strength she had, so he had no other choice.

The dark figure did not utter another word. It went about its task in complete silence, paddling in the waters of oblivion until it brought them close to shore. It did not help them down once they reached their destination, nor did it open its mouth to give them directions. Just pointed a long, skeletal finger toward the horizon and set off the same way it had come. 

A dark, dead forest loomed before them. Long, thin tree trunks, nearly leafless branches and shabby bushes decorated the path. Everything seemed to be in shades of black and gray, though that was probably due to the lack of sun. In the distance a structure could be seen, a castle whose colors matched the rest of the landscape. Although the neat and polished appearance of its exterior contrasted with the disheveled and dead environment around it. It was clear that that was where they should go, so Geralt took Yennefer in his arms once more and set off on his way. 

There was not much distance separating them from the castle, but the witcher felt as if he had spent an eternity walking. And yet, at the same time, when he reached the large wooden gates, he was amazed to have reached his destination so quickly.  His perception of time was totally altered, affected by the atmosphere of the place.  Time did not flow there in the same way as it did on the surface. It was as if it was both stopped and accelerated all at once, as if each step took hours and at the same time a couple of seconds. It was more than the absence of sunlight confusing his perception. It was the way things worked in that place, a world separate from the one lying on the surface that he was not supposed to access.

The man who appeared in front of them when the doors opened on their own was imposing, but far less frightening than Geralt expected. It was enough to look into his eyes to know that he was the person in charge of the place. Power shone in his eyes in the same way the witcher had seen it in the kings in the world of the living. And yet, there was something unique about them, something that made it clear that he was no mere mortal. Geralt knew better than to challenge him, though he wasn't sure his emotions would allow him to be cautious if things didn't go as he hoped.

"I've been waiting for you, witcher." the god said in a loud, clear voice. "I'm surprised it took you this long to find me."

Geralt was not pleased to learn that he had been waiting for him. He had imagined it might be a possibility, but he thought the god would use that knowledge to stop him. The fact that he welcomed him without trials or difficulties, sending his people to look for him and opening the doors of his home to him without hesitation, made him suspicious.  For all he knew, it could all be a trap.

"Oh don't flatter yourself, witcher! I have far more important things to do than to set you up." The god spoke as if reading his thoughts. 

"You knew I was coming?" Geralt managed to say and the god nodded.

"And most importantly, I know why you are here. I knew you were going to find your way here the second she came in."

The mere mention of his beloved in the conversation had Geralt's heart racing, a gesture of both love and anxiety. He felt Yennefer's eyes on him, watching him with furrowed brows as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She knew of his former lover, the forest nymph he had abandoned after their destinies were linked, and he had no doubt that she would understand what was happening in just a second, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to have her back.

"So, I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

"I do, yes. And I will not be opposing to your wishes, Geralt of Rivia. I knew from the first moment that this was not her time and I am willing to give her another chance to live out her destiny without surprise interruptions from magic... However, I do have one condition."

"And you say it was not a trap..."

"It is not! It is just a simple... exchange."

"An exchange of what?"

The god paused, taking his moment to answer.

"Souls are complex things, Geralt. Very powerful, very strong... I can't just let one walk out of here."

"Why not? You have plenty here."

"It's a matter of balance, I don't expect you to understand that. But, if you want your dear nymph back, you'll have to give me a soul in return."

Geralt was silent for a moment, carefully analyzing his situation. After all the work it had taken him to get there, he didn't plan to leave empty-handed. But he also didn't want to condemn an innocent soul who had nothing to do with his mistakes. So he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Fine," the witcher agreed. "Take me then. My soul for hers, it's only fair."

Yennefer tugged on his arm, ready to argue with him —thinking he was acting like an idiot by offering his life as if it was nothing—, but was interrupted before she could open her mouth by the laughter of the god in front of them.

"It's a nice gesture, but your soul isn't nearly powerful enough. It's better than an ordinary human’s soul, I'll give you that, but she's a nymph. Do you have any idea how much energy her soul contains?"

"Then name your price." Geralt said. He wasn't necessarily going to give in to his demands, but he figured it didn't hurt to learn what the god's wishes were.

"To be honest, I don't think you can get a soul of such power... however, you do have access to one that is quite close." Geralt didn't like the suggestive tone in the god's voice. And he liked it even less when his eyes fell on Yennefer as he finished the sentence.

"No!" The witcher declared as he understood the intentions behind those words. He had brought Yennefer with him to help him open the portal and nothing else. He refused to sacrifice one more life. No one else had to suffer because of his stupid decisions.

"She wouldn't suffer." The god spoke after glancing at Geralt's thoughts. "She doesn't even have to be dead, she just has to stay here with me."

"I don’t care. We're not doing this."

"Why don't you let her decide?" The god said, resting his eyes on Yennefer's violet ones. "It is a good deal. You get your lover back and she gets-"

"She gets imprisoned here forever." Geralt interrupted and the god looked at him wearily.

"She gets to be the most powerful madge in history, sitting by my side ruling the underworld... isn't that what you always wanted, Yennefer of Vengerberg, to have power beyond imaginable? What's more powerful than deciding between life and death?"

Geralt snorted at such words, finding the god's tricks very ineffective. But when he looked back at Yennefer, she had a look in her eyes that made him doubt. "You're not seriously considering his proposal, aren't you?" he approached her, speaking in a lower tone of voice so as not to be heard by the god.

"If we leave now then we traveled this far for nothing. Don't you want to get her back?"

"No if it means hurting innocent people. You have nothing to do with this."

"Except I do since the moment you made that srupid wish."

"I didn't save your life then just to leave you here now."

"You're not leaving me, I'm choosing to stay."

"You don't have to do this, Yennefer." Geralt's voice became softer. She seemed quite sure of her decision and he knew it would not be easy to persuade her otherwise, but he had to try. He didn't like the idea of leaving her behind, of sacrificing her in favor of his own happiness. 

"Oh, please! I'm not doing this just for you. I usually don't like to waste my time and energy just to end up empty handed. I came here because, as you said, it was an opportunity to find the answers I've been looking for. So why don't you worry about you and let me worry about myself?"

Yennefer rolled her eyes. And while she wasn't lying and really had interests of her own in that place, Geralt really was a big part of the reason she wanted to accept the god's offer. There was something in his eyes, the sparkle of true love, that shone every time he thought of his departed lover. It was something she had never noticed in his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear that what they had was real, it softened her hardened and withering heart, and gave her hope that love was real. Though of course, she would never admit that to Geralt. 

The witcher growled under his breath, clenching his jaw. Even though part of him didn't like the idea of leaving Yennefer behind, he couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to hear those words. If she wanted to stay there for her own selfish reasons, then accepting the god's proposal was much easier on his conscience. 

"Are you sure about this?" He asked her once more, giving her one last chance to back out. 

Yennefer shrugged. "I lived a long time among the living, had my good share of adventures... maybe it's time to try my luck in the underworld. "

That answer was good enough for Geralt. He accepted the god's proposal, exchanging Yennefer's soul for that of his beloved nymph. She would stay in the underworld with him and in return Geralt would get a second chance with his lover. The god instructed him to return home and assured him that when he arrived, her soul would already be back in her birth tree.

As he made his way back, the thought that the god was tricking him crossed his mind. He realized that he really had nothing to assure him that he would keep his word. For all he knew, this could have been a strange move by the god to get to Yennefer and her powers for some reason he did not know. Perhaps he was being used as a pawn in a larger chess game that he did not know he was part of. Perhaps he had unleashed a terrible evil upon the continent without realizing it.

But then he felt it. 

The sweet scent of flowers assaulted his nostrils the moment he set foot in the forest. It was strong, much stronger than it had been in a long time. He noticed then that everything looked greener and more alive, every flower, bush and plant glowing in the warm sunlight in a way that they didn't when he left. Even the birds seemed to sing louder and more cheerfully. 

Geralt ran to the cherry blossom tree he had been tending for what had felt like an eternity. His heart was racing with every step he took, not from the physical effort, but from the anticipation. The hope of seeing her again was what had kept him sane since that horrible day he had lost her. All this time he had thought it was impossible, an illusion that only served to keep him on his feet until the pain subsided. But now it was a reality, and he had so many emotions swirling inside him that he didn't know exactly what to feel.

Suddenly, his eyes came upon a figure on the horizon. It was partially blocked by the rays of sunlight that kept him from seeing clearly, so he picked up his pace to get closer. Little by little the figure revealed itself in front of him, until it became clear to him that the one who was walking around the forest, picking flowers and petting the animals, was her. 

She looked as beautiful as he remembered her, with her long hair blowing in the wind and a sweet smile on her face. It was as if time had never passed, as if that horrible day and the pain that her death had unleashed had been just a bad dream. It was as if he had never lost her.

Geralt stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell on hers, paralyzed by the emotions coursing through him. All this time he had dreamed of this moment and now that he had her only a few feet away he didn't know how to react. His eyes blurred with tears, but he caught a glimpse of his beloved's figure running to him before he felt the warmth of her body in his arms. He held her tighter than he ever had, pulling her against his chest as a way of both making sure she was real and that she couldn't pull away from him.

"You came for me." She muttered, melting into the embrace. Her memory was somewhat fuzzy, but she remembered clearly the moment when the blade of the dagger had caressed her neck. She remembered how it had felt and the horror in Geralt's eyes as she fell into his arms, taking her last breaths. She remembered his words of comfort and his promise to make things right, as if he actually could. She still didn't understand how she was back there, but she knew it was Geralt she had to thank for her second chance at life. Somehow, he had found a way to bring her back, she was sure of that.

"I'll always come back for you." 

The kiss they shared was unlike any other. It was passionate and desperate, yet soft and tender. It was charged with all the emotions that had been left unsaid between them, sadness, regret, longing, but, above all, love. They felt that spark the moment their lips brushed, just like in the old days. Geralt hadn't realized how much he had missed feeling her soft lips on his until that moment. He allowed himself to get lost in the joy he felt, letting the warmth of her body against his slowly remove the traces of sadness and pain that had haunted him all this time.

They remained in each other's arms for a long time, enjoying the moment they had both been longing for so long. It was just him, her and the chirping of birds in the trees. Breathing in the floral scent of her hair, Geralt knew that the gray days were behind him. Gone were the guilt and the pain, the sleepless nights and the cold mornings without his beloved. She was back by his side, just as she always should have been. And he was more than happy for the new beginning he had with her. A new chance to make things right, to honor his word and keep his promise, just as he should have done from the beginning. He was ashamed that he had had to lose her to realize how big his mistake had been, but now that he had her back he wasn't going to let her go. His love had proven to be stronger than everything, even death itself.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia angst #the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia fluff

[princessaxoxo]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Masterlist 　ﾟ･｡🌷͙֒

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 💌

𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 ˚₊‧꒰ა 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✿ 𝘢𝘰3 ✿ 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥 ✿ 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘯

𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 - 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥-𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴. 𝘪 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘰3, 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳.

𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 18+ 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨��.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵

𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓪

𝓜𝓲𝓴𝓮

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓽

𝓐𝓾𝓰𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓻

𝓢𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓶𝓮𝓼

𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓷

𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓢𝔂𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷

𝓚𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷/𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓲 𝓚𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓯𝓯

𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻: ꕤ 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉: 🍒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉: ❦

#henry cavill #masterlist #oneshot #short story #henry cavill fandom #drabbles #mini series #geralt of rivia #clark kent #sherlock holmes #mike hellraiser #geralt x reader #mike x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #clark kent x reader #henry cavill x reader #first post #walter marshall x you #henry cavill smut #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill sherlock holmes #august walker #night hunter #angst #smutty #clark kent x you #clark kent smut #charles brandon romance #charles brandon fanfiction

[security-reduce-country-range]

https://lori-631.ftgae.xyz/gc/ZVfTckQ

https://lori-631.ftgae.xyz/gc/ZVfTckQ

#menstyle #x male reader #supergirl #beautiful #eddie munson fluff #jojo no kimyou na bouken #aizawa shouta #true #egyptology #geralt x reader #schizophrenia #jamie benn #kuroshitsuji #mandalorian #dsmp au

[aristialamoniques]

𝔎𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔰 𝔐𝔦𝔨𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔐𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔰

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩!

𝔄 𝔉𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥

𝔈𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔈𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡

𝔄 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔉𝔲𝔫 ℑ𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝙰 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊

𝙰 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢

𝙰 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

𝔊𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔒𝔣 𝔞 𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔄 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶

𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔙𝔬𝔴𝔰

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔄𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔈𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱

𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒎 𝑨𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒊𝒎 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑴𝒄'𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

Masterlist Part 2

#henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #imagine #Materlist #x reader #klaus mikaelson #Witcher #one shot #klaus mikaelson x reader #TVD #fanfiction #Masterlist #female reader #drabble #fluff #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #HOTD #Smuts

[mattmurdock42]

Don't tease the bear with a short stick!

Summary: you and Henry had plans for the night, but your son kept delaying the plans, and you would tease him All.The.Time!!

Warnings: vibrator, cuffs, overstimulation, oral (m recieving), hand job, sex, butt plug, loottss of fluff.

P.s: Little Tomás is back!!! (His first appearance was in "Henry dressed as a Vampire")

W.c:+-5.5k

It was saturday.

You, Henry and little Tomás woke up at 9, then you headed to the gym.

While you and Henry worked out, little Tom sat on a chair playing his videogame.

You were doing squats and listening to some metal ( it was your work out songs), when you suddenly feel someone approaching you from behind, putting their hands on each side of the bar and squat with you, kinda helping if the bar happens to be to heavy and you fail. Startled, you look up and recognize Henry´s hands. As you finish this rep, panting, you look at him with narrowed eyes and say: " How many times do i have to tell you to not approach me from behind during the reps? Besides beign distracting, it scares me most of the times!"

He grins at you. "Sorry, my love, but i couldn´t help myself. i just needed to say that you should take of your shirt. It´s hell hot today. Moreover, i´m dying to see you squat just in your sports bra." He says as he toys with the hem of your shirt.

You gently move away his hand from your clothe. "Sorry, bear, but i´m a little swollen today." You give him a quick peck on his lips to apologize.

"Darling, i did not ask if you are swollen or not, i said for you to take your shirt of. You are dripping wet. If you don´t take it off yourself, i´ll do it for you, baby girl." He whispered for only you to hear this last part.

You knew how sweat you were. However, your insecurities never leaved you. With time, you grew comfortable with Henry, he always loved your thick belly. Your bigger insecurity was your belly, since it was the most thick part of your body. You hated that. Your legs could be considered strong, your arms too, but your stomach, always thick and looking swollen. Henry always tried to reasure you, but you couldn´t help it sometimes.

"Henry, please." You whined, looking to your sides as he got closer.

"Baby, there is just five more people in here, and they are all mindind their own bussines. You are looking stunning, darling, I assure you. This gray, wet shorts are driving my mind crazy. Take your shirt off, and tonight i´ll show you the effect they caused on me now." He said as he caressed your hand.

"Okay." You sighed.

You went to the bathroom and took it of.

As you came back, Henry gave you a mischievious smile and went to finish his training, giving constant glances at you the whole time.

You finished your work out program and went to sit with your son, to wait for Henry.

"Hello, my little one." You say as you sit beside him, messing with his hair.

"Hi, mama!" He says without taking his eyes off of the device.

"Daddy told me you could pick the restaurant this weekend. Where do you wanna go?"

He put the device aside and looked happily at you. "Umm, could it be at Cigalon?"

"Sure, my love."

He gave you a long hugh. He was a mama´s boy, so his hugs were always long when it came to you. Tomás sat on your lap as he continued playing his videogame, and you watched Henry, lifting weighs three times your body weigh.

As he finished, he took your bag and you headed home.

After everyone took a shower, you went to Cigalon, as your son asked.

After you had lunch, you headed to the supermarket, since you were already out.

"Mama, you look so pretty!" Tomás said as he hughed your waist while you were picking fruits and vegetables. "This dress looks amazing on you. So cute!" He said as he gently took a peace of fabric in his tiny hands to look at it closer.

"Aww, thank you so much, my puppy." You say as you envelop his back on a hugh. As you meet with Henry again (he was getting the meat, since he loved this part), your son ran to him and said: "Daddy, doesn´t mama look cute in that dress? It suits her so well!"

"Yes, Tommy, it really suits her." He says as he places the meat inside your cart and goes to your side. "It really gets her most beautiful parts to get notice." As he said that, he slightly smacked your ass, so your son wouldn´t see it.

You got what he meant with the 'get notice'.

Tomás, that afternoon, went to a birthday party of one of his little friends, so you and Henry were alone.

As he was seating on his game chair, playing World of War Hammer, you got behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders, massaging it. You lowered your torso to his ear level and whispered: "I was hoping you´d show me what my gray short caused on you today."

He humms, appreciating the massage. " My love, if you don't mind, could we do this tonight? Right now I'm a little sore from the gym, but at night, I will be all yours."

"Are you sure?" You ask as you lower one hand to his bulge, squeezing it, but not hard enough to hurt him.

"Be careful with those sinful hands, pet. They could get you in a serious trouble."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." You whisper in his ear as you give him a harder squeeze, making him jump a little.

As he looked back at you, you ran to the living room. You knew what waited for you tonight, and you couldn't wait.

The night came and you went to pick Tom. When you arrived, Henry was already cooking dinner, beef with carrots and rice, just like your son liked.

During dinner, Tomás asked: "Daddy, can we watch a movie later?"

"Could it be tomorrow? You played the whole day and I bet you are really tired. Don't you agree that tomorrow is a better idea?"

You knew Henry's intentions, and had to cover your mouth to suppress the big smile of amusement on your face.

Your son turned to you for help. He knew that, if there was someone who could persuade his daddy, it was you.

"Mama, please? I'm not tired!"

You looked at Henry and scornfully said: "please, daddy?"

He sighed. "Sure, puppy. Finish your meal then go choose the film."

Thomás was choosing the movie while you and Henry were cleaning the table.

You knew that you had messed a little with Henry's plans for tonight, but you loved to tease him, so you decided to make it hard to him. And your son, absent mindedly, helped you.

Henry sat on the couch with his bowl of ice cream while you were handing Tom his. Then, you got back to the kitchen to take yours. As you showed back into the room, Henry put his enormous thick thighs on the couch and looked at you.

"It seems that there is no more space on the couch for you to sit, love. So I think my lap will have serve it." He said with a devilish grin.

You rolled your eyes, knowing his intentions. However, as you headed to your 'sit', little Tom came to action.

"Daddy, you are taking the whole couch!" He said trying to pull his daddy's thick legs off of the couch.

"But mama doesn't mind sitting on my lap, puppy."

"Yes, she does!" As the little boy noticed that he had no strength compared to his father, he rised from his sit, on the other end of the couch, and points it to you.

"Mama, you can have my sit." You smile at this cute action. You really didn't mind to sit on Henry's lap, (actually, you planed to tease his body the whole movie) but you couldn't say no to your son after this gesture.

You sat and opened your arms. " Come here, puppy!"

He ran to sit on your lap, snuggling into you. As his attention got into the movie, you gave Henry a playful smile squeezing lovingly your son.

You were going to pay for this later.

The inevitable happened. Tomás really was tired, just as Henry said, and slept in the middle of the film in your arms. Henry carefully took him from you and put him to sleep in his bedroom.

When he showed up back in the living room, he spoke: " Now it's time to take my baby girl to sleep." He was slowly making his way to where you sat. You got up and started to head to the garden.

If he wanted to eat, he would have to hunt.

"Don't you think that the evening is beautiful? It has a slight cold breeze that can make one so peaceful, to calm every nerve on one's being. It's amazing that it can causes you sleepiness, but at the same time, can make you stay more alert. It's a moment when interesting things happen: child's being born; people dramatically fading away; someone studying for something that will change their life, in the silence; maybe the greatest world rob!" You laugh as you stare at the sky. " But the most interesting thing of all: intercourse." You say this looking to Henry while you walk away from him backwards, slowly, with a mischievous grin on your face. "The darkness makes everything so dramatic!"

"Stop."

"I know it is not one of my best reflections, darling, but you don't need to so rude." You say faking an offended look.

"Stop. Moving. I meant. Your reflection was ardent, pet."

"Ardent? I think I would call it 'fine', this one, Mr.Darcy." You say as you stop, letting him get closer. Although, as soon as he reaches a hand to grab you, you strayed away from him.

"You know, it is pretty early, we should do something." You say feigning obliviousness.

"Oh, pet, I think you know what we should do. I have a thing to show you, remember?"

"That new action figure you got? I think you've already showed me, love."

As he fastly reaches for you, you stray from him again, almost failing at your attempt. However, as soon as you giggle, you both hear a sleepy, low voice.

" Mama, Daddy, can I play hide and seek with you?"

"puppy, it's late and you are tired, go back to sleep." You say in a soothing voice, trying not to wake Tomas up to much, since he seemed tired.

"But it looks so fun! Please mama, just for a bit."

You look at Henry, who was clearly frustrated. He had been neglected before because of his son. Now again? And the worse part, you were teasing him all the time to make this worse.

And the teasing wouldn't stop now.

"Alright, pup, but only for a moment." You say.

"Yay! Daddy, me and mama are going to run, and you will catch us." He says as he starts to run away from his father. You ran too.

Henry, obviously, let's his son win, running slower and saying things like " you are to fast, my little bear", making the boy laugh and feel proud of himself. Moreover, then, Henry noticed how close he was to you and changed his direction. And, with you, he wasn't going to let you win.

You started to run for your life , noticing him getting closer and closer. You had long legs, but his were longer. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab your arm pulling you back, and before you could tell, you felt a sharp pain in your waist. Henry had grabbed you without mercy, making you let out a squeal, both of terror and excitement. You looked at him, " Enough, pet, you are already in trouble, don't make it worse. " He whispers to you.

"Daddy, let mama go. You are hurting her!" Tomás says as he runs to you. As he reaches you, he hugs your waist. " Daddy, be gentle, she is fragile." He says, making your heart melt.

"it's ok, pup, daddy didn't hurt me."

"Yes he did, I heard your little scream, mama." He says as he pushes the hem of your shirt up, revealing a little of your waist. It was red. Of course it was, and it was going to leave a bruise, but it didn't hurt you. You and Henry had already talked about boundaries, and he knew that when he left bruises it turned you on.

" It's gonna be purple! Daddy, apologize to mama." He says with a pout.

"its ok,Tom" Despite your efforts, your son was looking angryly at his dad.

"I'm sorry, my love. I won't do it again. I hope you can forgive me for hurting you. I would never do it on purpose. Daddy would never hurt mama, my puppy." Henry says as he finally gets close enouth to you to kiss you. You making sure to make your tongue invade his mouth, dominant, teasing his every nerve.

"Ewww. Stop it." Tomás said.

"Ok, i think it´s time for everyone to go to sleep. Come on, pup, i´ll put you in bed." You say, guiding Tom by pulling him gently at his back.

Your son was already asleep, and this time, you told him to stay on his bedroom, because mama and daddy would be sleeping now.

As soon as you enter your bedroom, something was wrong: the room was dark. But Henry was supposed to be here, wasnt he? Suddenly, when you give a step further, heading to turn on the lights, you are suddenly grasped and thrown to the bed. Your wrists were pinned above your head, a knee between you legs, preading them apart, you could hear a breathing sound above you.

"You had your fun beign a bratt and driving me mad all night. Now, i´ll have to punish you. Otherwise, you´ll pooke the bear with a short stick again, pet."

Before you could tell, with one hand helding your wrists and the other cuffing you to the bed, he had you all binded. You feel him leave the bed. Bare foot steps could be heard going to his nightstand. You see a light flame burning. He was lighting candles. He goes to your nightstand and light another ones.

He was just in his boxers, giving you a show of his godly body.

You were wearing a shorts and one of his shirts. He started with the bottom part. He took of your shorts and threw them to the side. Your underwear, he lowered just above your knees. You started to move your legs to take them off, but he hold your knees and said. "No, no, no. You won´t move, love. You´ll just take it."

"But..."

"Shh. Just. take. it. You need to learn, pet."

He then went to the closet. You heard some doors being opened and, when he came back, you saw he had something on his hands: a clit and intervaginal vibrator and a cloth.

He got on the bed againg. With some lube, he massaged your walls making you moan with the soft touch. He put some lub on the vibrator. He was set between your spread legs, giving then no permision to close.

He slowly eased the vibrator inside you. In his hands, the little control, and in his face, a devilish smile.

He pushed your panties up again, placing it ´back so the vibrator wouldnt scape, since he wouldn´t hold it on place. Aparently, he had other plans.

He goes and sit near your head. " Open your mouth." As you do, he binds the cloth around your mouth. You look at him with questioning eyes. " We have been interupted before, and i dont plan on it happening again. Besides, i dont wanna traumatize our son by him hearing us. So, be quiet, ok?" You nod.

He leaved the bed and took a chair. Placing it in front of the bed, he sat with a whole privileged view of your core with the vibrator.

"Are you ready, my love?" you gently nod, not really knowing the answer.

He turns the vibrator on, already in medium speed, not wetting you enough first. You groan with the sensation, archin your back involuntarily.

After a minute of him watching you, letting you get used to it, he put the speed on full force, causing your legs to close.

" You look stuning, darling. Hey, dont close your legs! i want a full view all of the time." You slowly opened them again.

" You teased me bad today. Giving me that looks during the movie, while with your feet, placed it on my cock, pulling it. You made it grow and ache, but you just smiled with that wolfish look of yours. Now, you are at my mercy. You are going to stay in this position as much time as i want now, pet." As he says this in a menancing voice, he gets up from the chair and goes get his script from his next role: Walter Marshall. He was already with the hair and the bulky body. And you couldnt deny it, you loved him all bulky and with long curls.

He sat back on his chair and started to work on getting to know the character.

You couldn believe this. You knew how much time he took to know a character. He´d read all the lines and them would imagine certain especific habits and expressions for the character. It definitely would take a while.

After eight minutes, witht the vibrator on full speed, you starting to sweat, you came for the first time in that night, leaving a moan scape throug the cloth. He lookes at you with a disaproving look. "Quiet."

Was he serious with this? He didnt even lowered the speed to rode you out of your climax. And you were getting sensitive.

This happened more two times. You quietly having orgasms as he sat there, working while sometimes giving glances at your core.

You had more three orgasms before he put down the script. How long had it been since he turned on the device? 35, 40 minutes? You lost the count. You couldnt think straight, already overstimulated. He sat on the bed next to your head. " i finished giving a first glance to the script. Nice movie, i think. I´ll let you read once we are over your lesson, my dear."

You looked at him with pleading eyes. But of course he ignored it. Lowering himself, with a hand, he cupped one of your breasts and sucked at it gently, feeling your smooth sking in his mouth, savouring it, missing the times you asked him to suck your milk because your breasts were sore from being too filled with milk and Tomas already had a full tummy. Gosh, it had been heavenly. He had to get you pregnant again to feel that taste once more.

With the extra stimulation, you left out a low moan throught the cloth, making him stop and look at your eyes. " My little thing, are you already so stimulated?" You nod. " Wanna me to turn off the vibrator?" You nod more vigorously now. With the little control in hands, he turns it off now. The abrupt stop making you shiver.

"That was for making me say yes to the movie. You knew my plans, yet you teasingly ruined. Now, now it´s your punishment for getting away from me in the backyard. Do you think that was a hard grip? Lucky yours we werent alone. But now, the situation changed."

Looking down, you saw the little shining silver plug on his hands, with a wolf tale in the end. He put your legs on his shoulders and, with an exagerated amount of lub, he gently inserted the plug. You loved the plug, thinking of all the times he called you his "little wolf", because how your teasing smile reminded him of one. You adored the gift, with him saying that now, you could be fully one.

He knew how sensible you were in that area, so, in the begginig, he would always be extra carefull, respecting your body and your time.

After he put the plug, he took out his boxers and took his already hard and pulsing length in his hands, he teased the tip, making you moan from the sensitivity. "Easy, pet." He stilled inside you, taking his time to fell your walls clentching around him, making his head fall in to your chest.

He slowly began to pound on you, going faster as his orgasm was getting close, his hands squeezing your waist so hard that made you gasp. If he was hurting you, you would just have to say the safe word that you created and he would stop imediately. His thrusts were getting sloppier, so he began to massage your clit for you to cum too.

"Look at you, taking me so well. Already used to my size, my gorgeous, incredible wife. 'my' wolf." He barely had time to finish and you came, trigering his release.

You were exausted, but he had waited for to long. As he came out of you, his cock was already hardeing again. He uncuffed you and, taking you bridal stile, he put you on your knees, facing the bed. He sat on the edge, in front of you. He took of the cloth from you mouth. Your mouth felt dry. "Now, you are going to take me like the good girl you are, understood?"

Without giving an answer, you took his manhood on your hands and started pumping it, slowly putting him in your mouth until it hitted the back of your throat. You eagerly sucked him, making him loose his posture. However, as you felt he was almost cumming, he moved away your head, "Not in your mouth, pet. Not today, at least. I think you already learned your lesson, darling." As he reached for his cock, you took it in your hands faster and started pumping it. "May I ?" You asked. " Sure, darling." He said with love on his eyes as he leaned forward to kiss you, placing both hands gently on your cheeks. You could fell his tendernes. He cums in your hand. You leak your index finger, making him smile. "Wait just a moment, baby girl, I´ll run us a bath." As he enters the bathroom, you start to prepare the bed for when you´d sleep and place comfy pajamas on each one´s side of the bed.

He got back to the bedroon and took you in his arms, heading to the bathtub. It always amazed you how strong he was, knowing that you could definitely be considered heavy. "Put me down, i can walk a little yet." You giggle, still felling your legs tremble from the overstimulation. " You´ll hurt yourself, darling. I´m to heavy for you to pick me up all the time."

"Dont you see the weights i work out with, love? You aweight nothing. " He states kissing your forehead. You smile placing your arms around his neck.

After the bath, you were both already in bed. Starting to almost drift of to dreamland. "Sweet Wolf?" He calls for your attention. "Yeah?"

" Did i hurt you before? During sex, i think i squeezed you to rough."

"You didn´t. i have already told you, squeeze me as hard you like."

"I love your kinky side." He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

"I know." You say with your wolfy smile, making him pull you to lay on top of him. "Tonight you are sleeping here." He says in a commanding voice.

" Yes, sir."

You both fall asleep on your cozy embrace.

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