#geralt x yn

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Geralt of Rivia falling in love with a beautiful chubby cottagecore healer, after she helps him, when he is wounded, please? Thank you!

SOFT HANDS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 0.6k

warnings: plus sized reader, not specified per se but definitely implied

You woke up startled by a crash in your kitchen, looking around your room in tired confusion, trying to figure out the time by looking out through the rags you had weaved into makeshift curtains, it was not morning just yet, far from it, but the timing of the intrusion usually only meant one thing- your witcher was there. You stumbled from your bed, pulling one of your blankets with you, covering your nightgown as it did not aid you much in concealing your curves, thin it its design- Geralt never minded though.

"Geralt," you breathed, you were barely awake, stumbling slightly as you found your footing, already smelling him and you were glad that he had managed to bathe before breaking into your home, very considerate of him.

"Good evening, las," he was talking with his mouth full, busying himself among your wooden cabinets, it piqued your interest, making you speed up until you were next to him, his hands hard at work making some sort of stew. "Are you hungry?"

"Let me see first," you were very convincing, voice just soft enough to make him pause to give you a quick glance at his face, new scars, still bleeding as they stretched over the side of his forehead. "Are there more?" he nodded, grunting when you swatted his hands away from the knife and began pulling him to your washroom, the action only possible because of his willingness to follow you. You noted the burning candles he had arranged around the house, knowing you would need the light, always uneasy when he arrived in the dark.

He could not help the sort of amused tilt to his lips as you forced him onto a chair, struggling to remove his armor but he made no attempt to help you, enjoying the little huff and pout the struggle earned from you. When you finally managed to take it off, you threw it to the floor, giving him an unamused glare, not at all fooled by his faux innocent shrug.

You sat down in front of him, folding your legs and shifting the blanket over them, another huff was given as you dragged the bucket of water closer, taking one of the clean cloths from where you had folded them in a pile. Your cheeks burned as you scanned his torso, it was not right, was not fair for that matter that he had that effect on you- none of your other patients had, in fact, you prided yourself on being professional but only Geralt could make you flustered while cleaning his wounds.

"These are fresh," you noted, eyes averted from his as you dragged the wet cloth over his stomach, frowning lightly when he did not flinch. "You know, there are plenty of healers on the road, most if not all of them more suited to treat wounds such as yours," you were done with his chest, drying it with another cloth and wrapping it with strips of cloth that had been soaked in your homemade healing remedy.

"Hmm," a grunt, a familiar sound, a comfortable one. "I prefer coming to you," he stated and shifted lower, leaning his elbows onto his knees so you could easily access his face, a new surge of heat finding your skin at the eyes that soared over your features. "Your hands are the softest," he explained and you nearly pulled away from him, hands just barely keeping still as you wiped lightly at the scar on his face, the other hand gripping his chin to keep him still. "I also do not mind the view," he was being sly, daring, and extremely cruel as he breathed a light chuckle, not missing a single beat of your sporadic heart. "Nor the company," you paused, eyes falling to his without any control and you were stuck, entranced, unable to move or look away, only managing to break the daze when he cleared his throat.

"I assume it would be a waste of breath to ask you to be more careful?" you attempted a change in subject, following the same process as you did for his stomach as you finished up your work.

"Completely," he agreed and you wiped your hands, shaking your head in familiar disapproval as he simply enjoyed the very view he had traveled many miles for. "For what reason would I have for coming to see you if I were?"

"I should go and make myself decent," you dismissed the question, not surprised when he took your hand to help you stand, rough hands uncharacteristically gentle as his thumb brushed your wrist in his hold. "Do you have a place to rest for the night?" he shook his head, he dare not attempt to lie to you with words, tell you that Jaskier had booked the pair of them a room not far from your cottage, because truth be told he rather enjoyed you fussing over him, taking care of him, and he knew you did as well- so, who was he to take that chance from you?

"I was rather hoping you could spare me a room."

"Of course, I will prepare it while you clean my kitchen," he smiled, a true smile, one you had not had the chance to see before but you were grateful you could, it was lovely, dreamlike. He nodded in silent appreciation and agreement, looking down to where he still held onto your hand. "They truly are the softest that I had ever held," he told you and you were the one to smile, a shy smile, warm with affection as you tried to consider how you would survive a whole day with this man in your house when he was insistent on stealing your heart and your sanity.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fanfic #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

[cherryblossomlovee]

Forbidden love: Geralt rivia x female reader

You're a princess awaiting marriage. Every girl has to marry a prince even if the girls do not want to marry,

they have no other choice.

At this moment, you are wandering around your garden, admiring the flowers. As you were leaning down to smell the flowers feeling someone's

as you kneel down to pick a pretty one, you hear someone coming behind you,

you immediately got up and turned around and saw an older prince that you had a crush on for a while now.

''My princess' geralt rushes towards you, and you do the same.

you smile widely. my prince

he pulls you into his grasp. holding onto you as if you were leaving him at any moment.

Y/N, i can't let you leave to someone else, he says seriously

looking down, heartbroken,

hey, he lifts your chin! making you look at him,

Geralt lifts your chin. making you look at him. he then takes a deep breath. caressing your cheek,

I'm running away.

before you could say anything, he cuts you off, and you're leaving with me,       

#geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x reader #yn #romantic #fanfic #multi fandom blog #oneshot #henry cavill

[ughdontbeboring]

no time

henry cavill x woc reader

Henry is in no mood for teasing

warnings: smut (minors dni)

sidenote: of course im my horniest right before bed and when i wake up, so this magic is me just waking up 😅😇 i dont give permission for mt work to be used anywhere in any form.

if you fucks with it, like it, love it, reblog ans comment! 🥰

X

X

X

Her hips rolled back and forth smoothly at a slow pace. The slick seeping from her core wetting his hard cock that was pinned between their bodies.

The waiting game was driving him crazy. 

“Stop teasing love” he huffed up at her. 

Mischief twinkled in her eyes.

“No” she simply stated. 

Her hips rolling slower. She didn’t know how long she’d last playing this little game. She was moments away from breaking, she need him so bad-

She felt his large warm hand grip her throat and pull her upper body forward before she knew what was happing. She was so focused on teasing him some more she had noticed that switch in his eyes.

Now she could see it. The games were over. He was no longer going to be her prefect English gentleman.

His large chest seemed bigger as his tanned skin stretched over his muscles. His hand was tight around her neck, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know he was done with her games. Enough to know he need her just as much as she needed him. 

They were face to face. Her body completely flushed with his. Heat radiated off his hot body warming her against the hotels ac that was blasting. God this man was always a furnace.

“You love this shit” He taunted, it was true she did, she loved when he got rough, when he used her. “I can feel even more slick dripping down my balls because I grabbed you by your pretty little neck”

She whimpered as she sucked her bottom lip. He was right, she could feel more slick dripping from her and onto his cock and balls. Henry made a sound that came from deep within his chest, god she was making him even harder. But she hadn’t moved.

“Sink that wet tight cunt on my fat cock now princess” Henry commanded as grinded gassing her. She jerked at the action, pleasure flooding her body. 

“Y/N-“ He started when she didn’t move. 

He didn’t have to finish using her name before she was scrambling to grip his cock. Henry hardly used her name, unless he was in one of those moods. As much as she loved those moods she also knew they didn’t have the time to fully go there. Henry was never late for anything that his job required of him, it was something he was proud of, she wouldn’t want him to start now just because of her. 

Her starting this situation this morning was risking because they didn’t have much time before his team would be here to get Henry ready for his first premier of his new movie. 

A movie that also required her lover grow a beard. She loved all of Henry’s looks but beards just made her feral and she was constantly jumping on him whenever she had the chance, like now even when she knew their was no time.

But what was she to do when she woke up to a hard cock rubbing against her, while the beast of a man laid sleeping? Wake him up to a wet and warm mouth like he loved. 

Finally she sunk his head with in her as she laid hovered over his chest.

The man’s cock was large and thick, every time felt like the first time with Henry. She knew he loved that she struggled to take him but that she always did and did well for him. 

She took a deep breathe before pushing down more. She seen his face falter, his brows pinch together in pleasure before returning to a cold icy glare. 

“Oh fuck” she moaned. That harsh glare always did something to her. He just looked so hot angry but she knew it was malice free. She also knew that glare was his trying to contain himself. Oh how she wished they had time for him to spend the day using and fucking her at his whim. 

Tired of her games and the fact that she had hardly taken much of him, Henry took control and started to push more of himself into her wet cunt. 

“Shit Henry” she moaned out trying to steady herself, one hand laid on his furry chest and the other around the hand that still held her throat. Without notice Henry sunk fully into warmth before he started to drill up into her. 

She gasped as she fell forward, trying to hold on. His thick long veiny cock splitting her walls. Her hands moved to grip his large shoulder and the other around the back of his head. The short styled hair cut was ticking her soft palm. 

His thrust were brutal as he planted his feet and drilled into her. The action causing her whole body to jerk forward while she tried to hold on. 

“My pretty girl you better hold on….if I slip out this cunt before I cum, I won’t let you cum the rest of this press tour” His deep voice threatened in her ear. 

Her eyes widen as she tighten her grip on him, her pussy involuntarily gripping him tighter at the threat that had her cunt soaking him more. Henry smiled against her neck, his nasty girl loved this little games just as much as him and she had no clue his publicist texted him last night that they would be meeting later because of a delay at the venue. 

She was in for a few more round this morning. 

#Henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #Henry cavill x yn #Henry cavill x you #henry cavill x woc #geralt x reader #august walker x reader #syverson x reader #walter x reader #Henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfic

[storiesforallfandoms]

destiny ~ geralt of rivia;the witcher

word count: 1749

request?: no

description: after a long, rough journey, the princess feels safe enough to sleep, so her mage talks with the witcher

pairing: geralt of rivia x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was a long, tiring journey to bring Princess Ciri to find her destiny; the Witcher. The poor girl, only a child, had seen far more than anyone her age should ever see. Her grandmother had been smart enough to send a Mage with her at least, but there was only so much one Mage could do against the threats they had faced. When they had finally found him, stood alone after his own battle, and Ciri ran to embrace him, (Y/N) sighed in relief and finally allowed her body to relax.

They set up camp for the night. Geralt promised them he would find them somewhere with an actual bed for the next night, but Ciri could care less about where she was sleeping. (Y/N) knew she felt relieved, too. And finally the young princess could sleep knowing that she was safe.

Ciri was sound asleep next to a fire (Y/N) had built to keep her warm. The Mage was sat against a tree nearby, just watching. Knowing that Ciri was safe, that she felt safe enough to finally let her guard down, gave (Y/N) such a sense of relief that she felt like she could finally breathe again.

“You should be sleeping as well.”

(Y/N) looked up to see Geralt stood over her. She was surprised a man of his size was able to move so silently, but then again it was probably a skill he had to pick up as a Witcher.

“I would imagine you are just as exhausted as she,” he said.

“I am,” (YN) confirmed. “But not so exhausted that my body wishes to rest just yet. I guess it hasn’t realized yet that there is no threat anymore.”

“There are still plenty of threats.”

She shook her head. “Not tonight. Tonight, she rests soundly, and she is safe.”

Geralt looked over at the sleeping girl. For years he had been trying to deny Ciri. He didn’t believe in destiny, and he was the last person who should be looking after a child. But now that she was here, unharmed and at peace, he couldn’t deny that he felt relief as well. There were still plenty of threats out there, that much was still true, but he decided to agree with (Y/N) just this once. Tonight, they were all safe.

Geralt sat across from her. “You did well in protecting her. She likely wouldn’t have made it this far on her own.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” (Y/N) admitted. “I promised her grandmother that nothing would happen to her, and I am not one to break a promise.”

“I was unaware that Queen Calanthe had a Mage in her kingdom.”

“I’m not a royal Mage. Just an old friend that she asked a favor of.”

“A very good friend to risk your life.”

(Y/N) smiled and shrugged. “I have known Ciri since birth, and her mother before her. I would do anything to keep that girl safe.”

She was gazing at Ciri again. Geralt noticed the look on her face. “Do you have children of your own?”

“Oh, Gods no. Those are very uncommon in my line of work.”

“No lover either, then?”

She chuckled. “Also very uncommon. It’s hard to let yourself fall in love when you are immortal.”

Geralt wasn’t sure why he even asked. It felt like the logical next question after asking if she had children, but Geralt cared very little if she had said yes to having a lover. Or, so he thought anyways.

(Y/N) looked back to him, a sly grin on her face. “Queen Calnthe told me about your ties to Ciri.”

Geralt grunted. “I’m sure she did.”

“She could hardly tell the story without a string of profanities.” (Y/N) giggled. “No one has ever made the queen more angry than Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt found himself smiling as well.

“Well,” (Y/N) said, tilting her head a little. “Would you look at that.”

“What?” he asked.

“The Witcher smiles. And he looks quiet handsome doing so.”

(Y/N) was nothing if not forward. One does not live for many decades and not become bold and forward. She felt a little delight when she saw a brief look of shock on Geralt’s face. She certainly wasn’t lying, though. Anyone with eyes could see that Geralt was good looking. She was sure he was able to use that to his advantage as well.

Silence fell over them. The only sounds were the wildlife around them and the crackling fire. Both of them turned to check on Ciri at the same time, as if some sort of instinct kicked in for them both. (Y/N) took Geralt’s distraction as an opportunity to really study him. She had seen a look in his eyes when Ciri had run to him earlier, but it was so brief that she couldn’t place it at the time. He had been wearing his tough guy mask since, except for this moment. As he gazed at Ciri, (Y/N) could see two emotions on his face: relief and worry.

“The queen also told me,” (Y/N) said, drawing Geralt’s attention back to her, “that you weren’t going to claim Cirilla at first. She said you called Law of Surprise without truly believing in it.”

Geralt grunted. “All that bullshit about destiny. I didn’t believe any of it. I called Law of Surprise because they insisted on something for me saving Urcheon’s life. I didn’t actually believe I would get anything.”

“And yet...” (Y/N) glanced towards the sleeping princess.

He nodded. “I didn’t want a child by any means. This is not a life for a child. If destiny is real, it has played a cruel trick on her.”

“Or it has given her a father that she so dearly needed after her own passed.”

“And a mother?”

(Y/N) smiled. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t thought about the next step after Ciri was united with Geralt. Truthfully, she didn’t want to think about it. The thought of being separated from Ciri hurt too much, but she didn’t expect Geralt to want her to travel with them. He had been travelling alone for so many years that she was sure it would take time for him to get used to Ciri being with him, let alone if (Y/N) joined as well. She felt full of joy hearing Geralt insinuate that he wanted her to continue travelling with them as well. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Ciri just yet, or to Geralt for that matter.

“What a family we’d be,” she laughed. “A Witcher, a Mage, and a princess. Sounds like the beginning of a terrible joke.”

Geralt chuckled as well. (Y/N)’s smile broke as she let out a yawn.

“You should get some sleep,” Geralt told her.

“As should you.”

“I will.”

(Y/N) nodded. She wasn’t in any position to argue with him over whether or not he was actually going to sleep. She could feel herself finally being bogged down by her fatigue and knew it wouldn’t be long until she gave in completely.

Geralt’s eyes followed her as she moved to her knees. Instead of rising, she leaned towards him to close the gap between them. She lightly pressed her lips to his cheek, leaving a gentle kiss there before pulling away. He tried to keep his face unchanged as she sat back to look at him.

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~

The sun was high in the sky when (Y/N) woke the next day. The fire had gone out and the heat was instead replaced by the scorching sun. (Y/N) blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes used to the brightness of day. When she finally managed to clear her vision, she noticed she was alone at the camp.

She quickly sat up and looked around. There was barely any signs that anyone else had ever been here. Just the kindle left over from the fire she had lit for Ciri. She felt herself beginning to panic. Had they left her? Had someone taken Ciri and Geralt went after them? Had Geralt changed his mind about having her join them?

She was getting to her feet when she heard the sound of horse hooves against the ground. A horse broke through the clearing in a fast trot before coming to a stop. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when Ciri jumped down from the back of the horse.

“Good morning,” the young princess said, walking up to wrap her arms around (Y/N). The Mage was taken back by the gesture at first, but then happily hugged Ciri back.

“More like good afternoon,” Geralt commented, jumping down from his horse as well. “You’ve been asleep for hours. We went on to find food without you.”

“Forgive me for being tired,” (Y/N) said, playfully glaring at Geralt. To Ciri, she asked, “Did you sleep well, princess?”

“The best I’ve slept since we left Cintra,” Ciri admitted.

(Y/N) smiled and cupped her face. “You are safe now, princess. The Witcher and I will look after you and make sure no one will cause you any harm.”

Ciri looked between (Y/N) and Geralt, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “You’ll be staying with us?”

“Of course. I’ve come too far in this journey to let you go on without me. Although, I will need something to eat in order to continue on.”

She eyed Geralt. He chuckled and said, “Alright then, let’s find you something to eat as well.”

They went on foot with Geralt leading his horse behind him. Ciri was between the two of them, protected by her Mage and her Witcher.

“I was thinking,” Geralt said after some time of walking, “about our discussion last night. About destiny.”

(Y/N) looked over at him. “Yes?”

“Maybe there is such thing as destiny, and maybe it isn’t as bad as I once thought.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?”

“Ciri was meant to be my destiny, but she wasn’t the only good thing that destiny brought to me.”

He looked directly at her when he spoke. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. She had no good response, so she just kept walking, a smile on her face.

She would have to thank destiny for bringing her to Geralt as well.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #the witcher #the witcher imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[amber-michaelson]

TikTok Trends

Henry Cavill x reader

Summary: following a trend on tiktok gets you a good pounding

Read at own risk

Warning: hair pulling

yn pov

waiting in his on set trailer, laying on his bed scrolling through my phone watching some tiktok trends that girls did with their boyfriends but only one court my attention, the girl was holding her phone and was giggling, she called her boyfriend and positioned herself so her ass was sticking up but she was wearing a short skirt which showed off her ass and her boyfriend walked in and the video end it was titled the no panties tease “maybe i should tease henry” i murmured looking down i was wearing a nice and tight fitted mini skirt i giggled as i shimmied off my panties and trowing them onto the floor 

henry pov

i hurried to my trailer where my girlfriend still in full costume of geralt “baby” i smiled as i opened my trailer door and stepping in i was expected to be greeted with a hug or something but nothing “over here baby” i looked over and froze she was showing off her pretty pussy to me “wow baby” i growled moving to her she watched me from over her shoulder “i can get used to this” i said as i ran one of my fingers up and down her slit causing her to shudder “your still in costume” she murmured “who cares” i muttered her body looked so delicious  “where did you come up with this baby” i asked leaning down to kiss her neck “just a few tiktok videos” she moaned as i stuck two my my fingers inside “fuck henry” she started pushing back into my thrusting fingers “thats it baby” i growled into her ear i slowly pulled my fingers out causing her to whine and push back into me i stared down with hunger as i pulled off my pants pulling out my cock “are you ready baby” i murmured “please henry” she whined grinding back into me “fuck baby” i groaned and pushed my cock into her making her moan “please fuck me hard” she said and i started thrusting hard and fast “fuck”she moaned loudly as she threw her head back “come on you can handle a little more” i chuckled as my hand and started to rub her clit “to much” she moaned her hands thrashing and grabbing the bedding “we haven’t even started baby” i growled thrusting harder forcing her forward “come on baby” i said grabbing her hips using that to help pleasure her “baby” she whined stuffing her face into the bed  “fuck your clenching” i growled through my gritted teeth “are you close baby” i said all i got was muffled response i grabbed her hair forcing her to face me “what did you say baby girl” i said staring into her eyes “yes god yes so close” she whined, tears of pleasure running down her cheeks “cum for me baby” i growled putting her face back into the bed i groaned as she cam around me “fuck” i groaned but i still haven’t cum “come on” i said pulling her up and layed down with her straddling me “henry” she whined placing her hands on my chest “ride baby” i said folding my hands behind my head and watched as she shivered and started to grind down on my cock “come on baby you can do better” i chuckled and grabbed her hips and made her go faster “henry” she whined.

yn pov

i was becoming hazy from the pleasure “henry” i whined as he made me go faster “come on baby im almost there” he groaned and moved his hands from my hips to breasts grabbing and squeezing “fuck” i moaned his cock started to pulse causing me to get closer and closer “fuck” we yelled as we both cam “dam baby you need to watch tiktok more often”

My Other Actor/Actress Works

Check Out My Other Works 

#x reader #smut #x reader smut #celebrity #actor #actors x reader #actor smut #actor x reader smut #actor x reader #celebrity x reader #celebrity x reader smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x reader smut #geralt x reader smut #geralt of river x reader

[lilith-of-rivia]

Imagine Geralt shaving your legs 🌸SMUT🌸

Word Count: 3,003

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT! 18+, please. Oral, fem receiving, sex, unprotected sex.

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia X FemaleReader

MASTER-LIST

“I felt as though we’d never make it to this blasted Inn.” You mumbled throwing your pack and bow onto the floor as you entered the room, Geralt in tow.

You flopped down onto the bed. Head resting on the feather pillow. Your back, legs, hell every inch ached. You’d been on the road for weeks. Sleeping on the hard earth. The nights we’re getting longer, and colder. Thankfully your wolf kept you warm and safe.

Your eyes opened slightly as you heard Geralt walk around the room, instead of laying next to you for the well-deserved nap you had been waiting for. He has headed for the door again.

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry dove, just getting some water.”

You smiled softly and closed your eyes as the door closed behind him. The door soon opened closed again signaling he was back. You peeled your tired eyes open.

He carried the large barrel of water with ease to the tub in the corner of the room, he dumped the chilled water into the basin before hovering his hand over it. You watched the flames fall from the tips of his finger, warming the water instantly. His hands dug into his rut sack, pulling out a pack of dried herbs he dumped into the water. The beautiful aroma filled the room. He also set a box and small tin onto the table next to the bed before walking over to you.

“Geralt what are you on? We’ve been traveling for weeks don’t you just want to sleep?” You all but whined.

“I do want to sleep, but I doubt I’ll be able to with how horrible you smell.” His lips turned into a sly smirk as your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me, I know I bathe more than you do. And you’re the one who smells like onions.” His hands wrapped around your waist, hoisting you onto your feet in a quick move. Causing you to squeal slightly.

“I never said I didn’t stink too, dove. But I know how much you enjoy your baths figured I’d let you have the clean water first.” Your heart swelled at his sweetness. He may be rough and mean, but with you, he was soft and kind. Your hands gently cupped his jaw as you peppered his hairy skin with kisses while his hands worked at undressing you.

Once you were bare he guided you into the hot water. Fully submerged you let out a long sigh, your head lying back against the tub. Geralt pulled a stool to the end of the tub by your feet, placed a cloth on his legs before reaching for the box and tin.

“What are you doing love?” You questioned, eyes half-closed as you enjoy the almost scorching hot water.

“You mentioned a few times how much you wanted a straight blade to shave your legs. I bought one. Figured I’d do it for you.” Your eyes opened fully as you looked at him. He had the blade open as he gave it a quick sharpen before pulling out a bar of soap. He dipped his hands and soap into the water by your legs, before pulling your left leg completely out of the water.

“Oh Geralt, you don’t have to do this.” You mumbled as he gently started to scrub and massage your leg. Focusing on your claves, knowing those bothered you more than anything.

“I know dove, you take care of me so well on the road. I just wanted to pay you back in more than food and sex.” You giggled softly.

He gently pushed your foot down so your toes were arched to the floor, making your skin taught. You felt the cold metal of the blade slip down your skin softly. You did desperately need a shave. As did he.

“Is food and sex still going to happen even with the extra pampering?” I asked as you watched his concentrated face. His brows softened gently as he smirked, licking his lips. The blade slides down the side of your calf to your ankle. He was very efficient, nearly done with the first half of your leg.

“Of course they’ll still happen, baby.” His voice was lower than normal, hands touching your leg a little more sensually as he felt for any missed hair.

He gently placed your leg back into the tub, grabbed the other one, and repeated his actions. The room was silent, in the best way. It was a silence you could both enjoy. Apart from the fire cracking, silence. This silence was best because you know he wasn’t worried. His shoulder was relaxed, his face held concentration to shaving your legs perfectly, not a concentration for monsters. He wasn’t stressed, he looked peacefully beautiful.

“You’re staring at me, baby.” He whispered as he finished your right leg, gently sliding it back into the water handing you the bar of soap. He dipped his hands into the water gently running them up and down your now soft and silky legs. The hair never bothered him, he didn’t care what you looked like or smelled like. He couldn’t view you as anything but perfect. But he did miss the silly feeling of your legs.

“I’m just enjoying my view Geralt. Nothing wrong with that.” You quipped. He smiled, his hands leaving your legs much to your dismay.

“Why don’t you join me, love? There’s plenty of room. The water is still hot.” You bit your lip softly, looking him up and down. Undressing him with your eyes.

It had been at least a week since you’d had sex. Note that neither of you meant for it to be so long, but life on the road tended to make it harder. Especially if Geralt had a hunt. He was always too tired and so were you most nights. As soon as you both lay down it’s minutes before you’re asleep.

He stood from the stool and began undressing, a bit too slow for your liking. He started with his tunic unbuttoning it ever so slowly. Before it was finally discarded and you could see his scar-covered chest and torso. His pants clung to his thick legs as he undid those buttons.

He tutted softly at you, smirking as he watched your desperate eyes.

“Oh hush up Geralt and get in.” You snapped, eyes in a glare that made him chuckle.

“Whatever you want, princess.” Princess. I word you both hated and loved. You ran from your royal title many years prior. Meeting Geralt and the pesky bard on your travels. No one called you princess, except for Geralt. And only when he was about to fuck you ruthlessly.

He discarded his pants revealing his semi-hard cock, making your cunt pulse. He moved behind you, setting your body between his legs. His own breath of relief fanned the back of your neck. His arms wound themselves around your waist, holding you desperately close to him.

“You make me feel safe princess.” He mumbled, his hands gently squeezing you. Your hands gently stroked up and down his arms, head leaning back into him more.

“You make me feel safe Geralt.” You whispered, turning your head so you were looking at him.

His face was damp from the steam from the bath. The water was now getting dirtier. His lips curled into a smile. A smile you would pay as much money as he wanted, to see. Your finger grazed his hairy jaw as you studied his face up close. Your eyes eventually landed on his.

You stayed like that for a while, just looking at one another, fingers roaming and grazing each other’s bodies. But only to remind yourselves of each other. Your fingers danced along with his many scars across his shoulders and arms, your body now completely turned to him. Your legs around his waist, groins pressed together but in a way that just made your bodies melt. Your hands were covered in soap suds as you washed his body, taking special care of him as he had you.

“You should let me shave your face, love.” You whispered as you washed away the suds from his chest. He chuckled softly, rubbing his hairy chin into your neck making you giggle and cringe away from him slightly, not too far before he pulled you back in close to him.

“Don’t like the facial hair, princess.” He asked.

“Not that I don’t like it, but common Ger. It’s getting a bit out of control.” You said with a small laugh.

“After dinner and sex?” He asked eyebrow cocked.

Gently wrapping your arms around his neck, you pressed your lips to his, softly grinding your hips into his, causing his shaft to slip between your lips. Earning you a soft grunt.

“Sex first?” The words had barely been spoken before you were hoisted out of the water, legs wrapped around his strong waist. He effortlessly carried you to the bed. He stood back from you, eyes dancing around your body.

“Gods you are so beautiful.” He mumbled, his hands sliding up your legs, to your hips, and up your side to your breasts.

His lips peppered kisses along your jaw, to your neck, and down to your breasts. His hands continued their work, kneading and groping two of his favorite things. Your eyes fluttered shut as he admired your body, kissing and licking down your chest till he got to your left nipple. He gently kissed around the bud before engulfing your breasts into his mouth, sucking and biting it.

“Oh Geralt...” you whimpered, hands going to his damp hair, eyes closing. You could feel him smile on your breast. He got the reaction he wanted.

His lips were warm and soft as he continued kissing and nibbling your breasts and nipples. Your chest would be completely marked by the end no doubt. He continued kissing down your body to your navel, and down further to the place you wanted him most.

His hands gently spread your legs apart wider, hooked under your thighs as he knelt to the floor face level with your now glistening wet pussy. His eyes moved to your eyes as he licked his lip.

“My favorite meal if I’m honest.” He growled, kissing and nipping your inner thighs. Moving closer and closer. Your hands gripped onto the blanket below you, knowing he was about to take your breath away.

You moaned loudly as his tongue licked a stripe up your wet cunt to your clit. “F-fuck Geralt.”

He chuckled deeply as he devoured you. You couldn’t make a sound as he started, the feeling being nearly enough to tip you over the edge right there. You closed your eyes, arching your back as you whimpered small curse words trying your best to surpass the growing climax you felt in the pit of your stomach. He could tell you were getting closer, he could hear your heart beating faster and the smell of your womanhood changed when you were close. Something only he would ever notice.

“Cum for me princess.” His words of encouragement and skilled tongue were all you needed.

With a string of curse words and his name coming from your mouth with whines and pathetic moans you desperately tried to, contain not wanting others to hear, you came into his mouth. He gladly licked and swallowed what he could of your juices. Loving the sounds you made and the way you curled your fingers into his hair. He continued his licking and lapping through your climax and didn’t stop until your grip on his hair got looser.

He lifted his face, his hairy chin covered in your wetness, his eyes gleaming like two balls of fire. You were his favorite meal. He kissed his way back up your body, positioning himself between your legs. His lips met yours in a fiery, lustful kiss.

“Taste how sweet you are princess?” He asked as he pulled away slightly, your lips only centimeters apart. You blushed softly and nodded arms wrapping around his neck.

He gently lifted your legs off the bed and positioned himself below you, you could feel the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance. Geralt put his hands on your thighs and pushed them up slightly, making you arch your back giving him a better angle. Your calves rested softly on his shoulders.

He spits in his hand, running it along the length of his hardened cock before rubbing the tip along your wet folds up to your clit and back down.

“Tell me what you want, princess.” He whispered and smiled devilishly at you. He knew words were never your strength in bed. Most nights he left you struggling to even breathe let alone be able to formulate sentences.

“Geralt please.” You groaned, grinding your hips but his hands grabbed them and forced you to be still.

“Use your words for me princess, I know you can do it.” He leaned down, your legs still on his shoulders as he kissed your neck, up to your ear. He softly bit your ear lobe.

“Please princess, let me hear your voice.” His lips were so close to your ear you could hear him in your soul. You knew you had to give him what you wanted if you wanted to have him in you.

“I want you inside me Geralt, please fuck me, my love.” You whimpered into his ear. It was all he needed.

In a simple rut of his hips, his cock was deep inside you, filling you so deliciously well. Your eyes rolled back as your back arched.

You felt every inch of him, he fit inside you perfectly. You could feel every vein as he slowly began to push in and out. His own breathing was harsh and raged his grip on your thighs becoming tight, you knew he’d leave bruises. His head rested on your shoulder as he continued his slow steady thrusts. His hot breath on your neck makes the pleasure intensify. You both were having a hard time keeping it together. After a couple of minutes of him getting used to your cunt again, he began to slam his hips into you harder.

He got up on his knees, your legs still on his shoulders and he began thrusting into you with a power and force you hadn’t felt him have before. You felt his tip so deep inside you scrapping a spot so well your toes were curling and you were breathless already. Your back arched off the bed as you moan louder and louder. No longer caring if anyone heard you. This was different than the times before. The energy was alive like it never had been. You felt every inch of him up to your ears. All you could smell was him, the taste of his tongue was still on your lips, his warm hands held your shaking legs. His deep moans and groans, breathy curses of your name, were the only things you could hear. Even when your eyes closed all you could see was him. His eyes, his smile. He was intoxicating. Your hands reached for him you didn’t know what part of him you wanted, but you needed something.

He saw you reaching for him and moving your legs to the side so he could bend down. Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. He never stopped his thrusts. The sound of his cock slamming into your wet cunt and your moans was all he could hear. His lips met yours again as you held onto him his hands on either side of your head so he wouldn’t crush you.

“Fuck I love you.” He groaned into your mouth. Your heartbeat soared, your body shaking as you saw stars. Those three little words pushed you to the edge. The first time he ever said them.

He felt your cum spill around him, your wall contracting so hard around him it nearly push his cock out “Fucking christ-” he gasped. His lips continued their assault on your own, his tongue invaded your mouth as he tasted all of you. Every inch of you he tried to engulf, he wanted to have every part of your body imprinted in his mind forever.

“Fuckkkkkk Y/N, fuckkkkkk!” He yelled with heavy thrusts as he spilled his warm load deep inside you, mixing with your own it leaked out around him, down onto the blanket. Your hands held his shoulders tightly as you cling to him. His bodyweight now crashing down on you as he fought his own breath.

After a while, he rolled off you, but not far from you. His arm draped over your body as you both lay on your backs staring at the ceiling. Your chest rising and falling heavily.

“I love you Geralt.” You finally said once you found your voice again.

Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle at how horse your voice sounded. He rolled onto his side so he was facing you, his hand now rubbing up and down your body softly. His face was soft, content. He looked peaceful. His eyes were on your face as he studied your tiered expression. He leaned over and softly kissed you, his hand coping your face softly.

“I’m only sorry it took me so long to say it.” He mumbled into your lips. You smiled and put your hands on his cheeks. Kissing his face all over made him laugh softly. You were his kryptonite.

Both your stomachs rumble as you lay next to one another. “How about dinner?” He asked kissing your nose.

“Sounds lovely, but I may need assistance getting down the stairs.” You said with a laugh. Geralt smiled and stood grabbing your pack.

“I’d Cary you to the ends of the earth if I had to my love. Down to the tavern shouldn’t be too hard.”

#imagines #geralt imagine #garalt imagines #witcher imagine #imagnes #Geralt #geralt of rivera #the witcher #witcher geralt #witcher ciri #witcher yennefer #geralt x reader #yennefer x reader #jaskier x reader #geralt x yn #yennefer #yennefer x yn #yennefer x you #geralt fanfic #geralt #henry cavill imagine #witcher netflix

[korebringerofded]

Married Life- A Preview Fic

Okay so I am a huge Geralt simp so enjoy this married life Geralt x Reader smut with also fluff. I have a full fic planed with this like domestic Geralt so if you like lmk and I will make it a more official project!

Warnings- Smut, Geralt being adorable and hot, sex pollen because of course??

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLS

Words-1479

Summary- Geralt x wife reader lots of cute. Sex pollen monster, horny Geralt. Yall know.

The smell of herbs encapsulated you as the spring air gently pushed and pulled against the tall green grass that shimmered when the light hit it just right. You and Geralt have been married a whole month and had fallen into a comfortable routine of worshipping one another from dusk till dawn as well as the mundane farm life you both were growing to love. You spent most evenings with drool pooling in the corners of your mouth as your husband and his sweat gleaming biceps chop plenty of wood to keep you nice and warm at night. He knew how much you despised the cold. You had to pull yourself away from your brooding witcher, he had to go into town to get some supplies and was definitely gone longer than you would have liked. You adjusted yourself and fanned your neck softly to help with the heat that now formed in the pit of your stomach and traveled between your plush thighs.

You finished collecting the herbs you needed for dinner and dusted off your thin skirt before grabbing your basket that you weaved yourself with a grin. Geralt was definitely resistant to learning how to weave but you insisted to teach him. He of course agreed with a grumble.

He couldn’t have hidden his smile even if he tried.

His thick hands clumsily threaded the reeds into each other. You were a pretty good teacher and once Geralt actually gave it a chance his eyebrows would furrow together in concentration and soon he had skillfully connected the reeds together to make a some-what perfect basket. He smiled toothily and showed you his work proudly.

It honestly made you fall over from laughing, eyes wide in surprise at his uncharacteristic dedication to something so mundane.

He blinked, looking hurt for a second before tossing his basket aside and grabbing your waist pulling you close to him as he peppers kisses down your neck with a grumble.

—-

As lovely as married life was for the two of you there was always the fear of danger from beasts or thieves. Geralt was still a witcher and still had a duty to fulfill. There were many occasions you would be left alone while he helped nearby or on some unfortunate occasions he would be taken far away from you. Those days were always the hardest.

It was in the middle of winter, Geralt had been gone for a few weeks and there was a particularly nasty storm. Your farmhouse was stable and safe but you shivered and trembled as the home shook against the cold heavy snowfall. Your fingers and hands were frozen despite the fire and many many blankets that you had wrapped yourself in.

You remembered that evening well as it took you several hours to fall into a deep sleep that was ruined when the front door flew open with a loud BANG! You screamed so loud that your voice broke, snow flying all around the home as a large figure covered in snow made swift movements towards you. You had only a moment to react before the white-haired witcher had you pinned to the pile of furs and blankets that was now underneath you.

His contorted face was half illuminated by the fire and the other half covered in snow and ice. His face was slightly red and covered in sweat.

“G-Geralt?” You croaked, eyes wide from shock. He wasn’t supposed to be back for a few more days at the very least. “Are you-” You bit your lip as you examined his face.

“Got bit by…something/” He breathed, his voice making chills run down your spine. His eyes never left you as his thick cold hands palmed at your hips as he hovered over you before trailing his hands over your breasts, his touch was so soft and gentle you weren’t sure if he was touching you at all and yet the cold nipped at your breasts until your nipples became hard and firm, Geralt let out a heavy breath as he watched your body like a hawk watching its prey. You were his prey. “I’m fine I just. I took care of it and I had to see you. I was….in the mountains…came home as fast as I could.”

How far had he ridden in one night? The thought passed your mind for a moment before disappearing entirely.

His hands slowly moved up your trembling breasts, watching them bounce softly against his fingers before he wrapped a thick hand that suddenly was hot to the touch around the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his in an almost hungry way. He consumed your kiss, taking your thin nightgown in a tight grip, and in one movement ripped it in half. His eyes glanced down at your mound and you could see drool pooling beneath his canines deep in his jaw.

The cold suddenly didn't seem to bother you, Geralt’s hot touch over your entire body mixed with the fireplace making it feel like a sauna. Your heart echoed in your chest as your husband placed rough wet kisses against your neck, nibbling your ear softly before sinking his teeth into the soft part of your neck making you let out a soft moan, hands instinctively tangling in his white locks, mouth hanging agape.

“You can be louder than that, kitten.” He growled, trailing down your collarbone kissing each part of your skin as he trails down, his tongue trailing over your breasts before collecting your hard nipple in his mouth, sucking and drooling against your skin as his hands continue trailing down your body before pressing his thumb against your clit with a hum. That's when you notice his hard member pressing against your thigh as Geralt sucks your breasts mercilessly.

“G-Geralt.” You shoved his hands away weakly before he took one hand and pinned your arms down above your head as he pulled his belt off with the other hand and looped it around your thin wrists. You watched with wide eyes, pulling against your new restraints in confusion. You could easily remove them. He was always so gentle even when he was in a state like this.

He tugged off his clothes, his body coated in sweat as his dick bounced against his thigh. In one quick movement, he was on top of you again pressing wet rough kisses down your body, quickly moving down this time, his thick fingers gripping your thighs tightly.

“Fuck…Your mine.” his jaw clenched as his yellow eyes watched you as your chest rose and fell quickly, wide eyes still locked with his as he slowly lowered his head between your thighs, licking slow strips against your mound as you squirmed, eyes rolling into the back of your head with a moan before he pinned your hips to the pile of furs and his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue over you repeatedly. You became a sopping mess, coming embarrassingly fast. He didn’t stop after your first, after you recovered for a moment he pulled you to where you were sitting on your knees. He lowered himself under you and you felt your heart drop when he opened his mouth.

“Sit,” he growled, you felt a blush creep up over your face. Your mouth was slightly agape. You immediately complied, knowing this wasn’t a time to argue with your wolf.

Once you were where he wanted you he groaned loudly against you, working his tongue in and out of you in sloppy strips. You threw your head back in shock at the sensation. You came almost immediately and Geralt gripped your hips, rocking you back and forth on his face, his stubble slightly rubbing against your clit and thighs. Your slick coated Geralt's chin and mouth as he rocked you back and forth on his tongue until your head started to spin.

“Thnk you can cum one more time for me, princess?” He pressed soft kisses to your neck before moving on top of you, holding your thighs gently as cum dripped from your soaking entrance. You nodded weakly before he pressed the tip of his dick against you, he groaned softly before pushing into you entirely, your breath hitching loudly as he pressed against your walls, his dick spreading you out as the room is filled with loud wet noises as he quickly starts to pound into you, his fingers twitching against your skin. You hadn’t ever seen him so worked up before but soon his pace became a bit more erratic and aggressive before you tightened around him, feeling him spill into you as his eyes watched you closely as you rode out your cum. Both of your chests were rising and falling rapidly as he rolled to hold you tightly.

You both slept rather well that night.

#geralt #Witcher #Geralt x reader #lemon #smut #geralt x reader smut #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x yn #x reader #x reader smut #selfship #self insert x canon

[bonelessghoul]

the witcher and the sea (1)

Summary: When monsters begin to terrorize the Isles of Skellige in an unnatural pattern, the Witcher is called in for help. But the Princess who finds herself imposing on Geralt’s task might be his biggest challenge yet, being as troublesome as she is useful to the Witcher. As the two try to cooperate, what waits for them in the shadows of Skellige are nothing compared to the secrets that are bound to come out. 

Words: 5.6k 

note: so this is my first time writing for the Witcher and I am absolutely panicking over posting this and would not be surprised if I deleted it and tried again later but -_____-  any and all feedback is much appreciated as I will be writing more parts of this!! 

part two

The harbor was a beautiful place at sunset.

All the ships were docked for the day, nearly trapped as sheets of cracked ice floated among the calm waters in this little nook where the island curved. The sun, finally peeking through the overcast skies of the day as it met the horizon cast its fiery glow, made every inch of snow and ice that littered the ground in this early winter glimmer.

It was a time of day where families would walk outside, taking one last evening stroll before dinner time in the peace and quiet that found itself over the brazen little village of Uriella Harbor. But even as the gentle caws of the birds that sat upon wooden posts and the quiet tide hitting the shore soothed the townspeople, it was Moira and the rowdy men of the village she called friends who disturbed it all.

Swords clanked against each other, the shrill sound of metal against metal filling the air as Moira held her own against the two men.

Dancing on her toes, the heavy sword sat tightly in her hands as she walked along the wooden pier, moving swiftly to fight them off and ignoring the local sailors and merchants who yelled at them to watch where they were going

They were all gentle with their jabs and the force upon their swings, playfully facing off Moira one by one, all of them heaving the cold and salty air as it froze the sweat upon their skin,

Rotty jumped down behind her from one of the ramps to the ship while she was fighting off his brother Arnie.

“Oh, give me a break, Rotty!” Moira cried, quickly disarming Arnie before turning around to face him.

“What? Sword getting a little too much for you?” he asked, raising a brow at her.

“Never.” she grinned.

Then, even while her skills with a sword would never match up with his, Moira was able to push forward just enough to make Rotty back up closer to the edge of the pier. She spent more time dodging him than actually swinging the sword, planting her feet in the wooden boards at times to have to undermine his strength when their weapons found themselves in a stalemate. As winded as she was, Moira could keep going even as her heavy breaths formed thick clouds with every exhale, but she pretended to give and put her hands up in defense.

Rotty, a man much taller and broader than her laughed deep with his chest, smile peaking through the thick, dark beard that covered his face.

“Giving up already?”

Moira put her hands on her knees, long dark hair hanging over her face to hide her smile.

“No. Just bored.”

In one swift motion, she sprung up and shoved him back with one blow to his chest and the sound of the splash he made in the water was enough to make anyone wince knowing how cold it was.

Turning around, she watched Arnie’s jaw drop as she wakled down the pier. Arnie was half of Rotty’s size and missing the beard, but even with a few years difference they had a very similar face. Also, Arnie had a much harder time hiding his little crush on her.

“For fucks sake, Moira, I couldn’t even knock him down like that.” Arnie laughed.

Moira shrugged, glancing back to see Rotty’s face red with anger even while his lips went blue as he pulled himself up over the edge of the dock.

“I just made this coat with fur I imported from Cintra!” the man shouted as the sopping wet fur shawl he wore over his shoulders fell to the deck with a thud.

“Aye, why don’t you leave the navy and become a tailor with the ladies then and you’ll have all the luxurious coats in the world?” Arnie snickered.

It only made Moira and Arnie laugh harder, her ribs squeezing against the corset she wore over her white blouse, but when Rotty started running towards them, they screamed like children and took off towards the land where all the little markets and inns started turning their lights on.

But then, Moira felt a pair of freezing wet arms wrap around her and the soft ground beneath her boots disappeared while she squealed into the air.

“How about I toss you in the freezing and icy water?” Rotty asked, ready to carry her back onto the dock despite her protests.

Moira wouldn’t make it known, but the scratches on her back left by local monster that lurked in their waters was burning as her back was rubbing against Rotty’s chest. Her mage had done well to cover it up, knowing that it peaked out from the blouse she wore.

“Oh, princess!”

Speaking of her mage, all the boys went silent, and Moira, practically frozen in mid air as Rotty was holding her up, glanced over his shoulders to see Saorise, her family’s mage standing there in her long emerald green cloak calling her over.

Sighing, Rotty put her down and even Moira was a little disappointed that their fun was ending.

“Another time, boys.” she heaved, trying to pat off her now damp clothing.

“I gotta say, you really have it in you Moira. I would pay good money to see you toss him into the water again.” said Arnie, instantly walking up to her side the second Rotty put her down.

“Shut up, you little weasel.” Rotty said, shoving his younger brother in the head as he walked past them. “Moira will be paying good money to get me a nice coat from the palace.”

As they walked back up towards the sand, she glanced back one more time at the scenery just beyond the village, the mountains of the small isle of An Skellige nearly black in contrast to the ice caps that glowed on top of them from the suns last rays. It was her favorite sight, being able to turn around from her beloved sea and then face the most magificient mountains in all of the Isles.

Between the peaks and the village that surrounded the harbor, her home awaited her and her Mage looked more than eager to go.

“Moira, I’m serious. We have things to do this evening.” Saorise called out, her nose flaring.

“I know!”

But as they walked down the pier, they all leaped off the wooden planks to the sand where the three of them found Orin sitting with their belongings. The tall and lanky blonde was leaned up against the short, rocky wall that divided the sandy shore from the land with his legs stretched out and a book in hand as he was bundled up with his winter clothes.

Underneath it all, they all knew he was probably the strongest out of them which is why Moira had a quizzical look upon her face before approaching him and snatching the book out of his hand.

“No mood to play today, Orin?” she asked, watching him stand up and instantly tower her.

The boy huffed and snatched his book back.

“I always am, princess. But I’m smarter than these two boneheads and would rather not wake up in the middle of the night with your brothers ready to slit my throat if anyone of us got a scratch on ya.”

Rotty went to steal Orin’s coat, the two engaging in a little scuffle in the sand before he finally gave it up.

“But when does Moira ever give up her childish little toys to use a sword, Orin?” Rotty teased, even while his teeth were chattering.

Moira was sure he only did it because no one had the time or money to get treated for the potential hypothermia Rotty faced and Orin was too nice.

The thrill of fighting was over once they got back into the market area away from the busy loading docks. She forgot just how active this area was even at this time of day, knowing that the stacks of crates would be gone before sunset and off to Cintra or other isles she dared to go to.

It was always busy here to say the least but Saorise stood calmly in the center of it, patiently waiting for her.

This woman didn’t look any older than her but had practically raised Moira her whole life. She was the closest thing to the mother and sister she never had, the wisdom and fun each one was defined by all put into one person. As much as she hated to keep her waiting, Moira took her time scooping up her coat and bow and arrows from the ground.

Moira frowned at them as she slid the fur lined navy blue silk cloak over her shoulders, the chill to the blistery sea breeze piercing her bones now as the adrenaline left her body.

“You’re all just jealous because your aim will never be as good as mine.”        

“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.” Orin grinned as he tucked his book away.

Then, the three men slowed their steps, eventually stopping just a few yards away from Saorise and Moira sighed as she stopped too, turning around to face them.

These men fought for the Skellige navy and had seen monsters most people only read about on the sea, yet they were always just a little spooked over her mage.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow?” Moira asked hopefully.

They all glanced at each other and shrugged.

“Your brother has some of us sailing over to Undvik to take care of a little ice giant problem.” Arnie answered.

Rotty laughed, unsheathing his sword to admire it in the golden light that peaked out from the clouds that churned with a myriad of colors.

“Yeah, nothing some arrows couldn’t handle, I’m sure.”

“Piss off. I hope the thing swallows you whole tomorrow.” Moira teased, waving them off as she turned back to Saorise who looked at her with an unamused face.

“Language, Princess.” her mage frowned, greeting her with a warm hug. “You look like you need a bath or two.”

Moira giggled. “Or three.”

The Princess paused, quick to withdraw her bow and retrieve an arrow so she wouldn’t make Saorise have to wait any longer, and put the arrow in place, aiming it at the boys as they walked down the beach towards their homes. Taking a deep breath, Moira pulled back the bowstring and released, watching the arrow sore over the distance to Rotty’s back.

It was a soft-headed arrow that would merely feel like throwing a pebble at someone’s back and she used those kinds for practice whenever she couldn’t get outside.

Rotty instantly turned around, the boys confused as they followed his gaze.

“Did you just shoot me with an arrow?” Rotty yelled.

“Consider it my good luck token for you boys’ tomorrow!”

Laughing to herself, Moira turned away and looked at Saorise who couldn’t hold back her amusement now as she laughed too.

As they talked about their day on their walk back to the carriage that would take them back to the slate gray slab she called home, another visitor had been standing by beyond their awareness, having just arrived on the last ship from the Continent.

Geralt of Rivia stood by Roach who had been patiently waiting for its owner to return from the small vendor who had a barrel of apples ready to toss for the day. The Witcher wasn’t always fond of the journey to the Isles, and neither was Roach, both lingering around on land to find their sense of balance again before setting off for what they came here to do.

But the sight of the girl fighting men twice her size with a sword she could barely handle had caught his eye. He hadn’t been to Skellige in years, and yet, the hustle of the sailors and merchants never changed but watching members of their army and a seemingly ordinary woman fighting in the midst of it all was new.

It was when another woman had called out to her, referring to her as “princess” that Geralt’s attention slightly peaked.

So, this was the Princess of Skellige.

It’s not every day one would see a princess with a sword in hand, let alone one who could fire a bow with such precision like she just did. It left the Witcher dumbfounded as he continued to watch her until she left with the Mage.

“Looks like were in for quite the untraditional royal family, Roach.” Geralt exhaled, stroking the horse’s mane as she let out a gentle huff in response.

~~~

It wasn’t quite like the citadel that sat nestled between two mountain peaks in Kaer Trolde, but many would argue that it took the prize for its prestige even after Nilfgard tried to destroy it ages ago.

The stone fortress blended in with the mountain side, the carriage pulling them in the rounded entry way where a beautiful fountain sat in the middle. The trek up from the village wasn’t awful since her home wasn’t that far up in the mountain, but it certainly was an annoyingly winding trail.

Two guards opened the carriage doors, escorting her and her mage out and up to the tall arched, wooden doors where another two guards opened them. This entrance took them into a hallway as wide as a ship and ceilings that went higher than the sails. The stone sand-colored walls seemed darker as the sun had set by the time they arrived, tinted brown from the candles and chandelier that hung above them. They walked behind the marble staircase that led towards the second floor, towards the throne room that was home to many parties and meetings after making a couple more turns. Each hallway had paintings hung, whether it was of their portraits or sceneries throughout the Isles, it always creeped Moira out passing by her own face.

Once in the throne room, where there was nothing but gaping windows letting the last of the light in and a table at the head of the room where her brother Bran sat, she could see the exasperation on his face from the moment they entered.

“Please tell me you didn’t wound some of the finest soldiers of Skellige this evening?” Bran asked.

Moira smiled up at her brother who sat in the subtle throne adorned with the clan of Tuirsearch colors of blue and silver. At his side, however, was Birna. Bran was a big man, never coming off as some glutanous king but rather a strong one with a heart bigger than everyone in the Isles combined. He had a niche for this diplomatic stuff and genuine intentions while doing so. However, Birna, was like a crow perched upon his shoulders.

She wasn’t evil, she was just a selfish woman who thought more with the crown upon her head than an actual brain.

“I would never hurt them.” Moira gasped, faking the offense she took to his words. “Their egos on the other hand might have taken a small hit.”

Even now, Birna with her dark navy dress embroidered with diamonds and long black hair, stared at Moira with narrowed eyes like a thousand daggers. Birna was very traditional, but to be quite honest, she married into the wrong family for that. She would never admit it, but she thought she was too beautiful for her brother but with that beauty came a slew of other negative things.

“We have a guest arriving this evening, Moira. Perhaps you should try and bathe or put something more presentable on before you greet him with the rest of us.” said Birna, nearly peering down at her with her nose.

“Your brother still isn’t back from Cintra yet, but it seems King Bran has invited a guest to solve our little monster problem.” Saorise said quietly as she leaned in towards her.

But Moira was too furious to listen, having been caught over her comment.

Tilting her head at Birna, she looked down at herself then slid off her cloak. She had been out all day with the boys and other local friends, and the blouse she wore had been tarnished ever so slightly from the shipments of coal brought in. Not to mention, sand still covered her boots and pants if one looked close enough. Her hair was completely undone from the braid she left in this morning, and she was sure her cheeks were beet red from adjusting to the cold all day.

Birna wasn’t wrong.

“You think so?” Moira asked, shrugging.

Needless to say, that no matter how much she has gotten used to the poking and prodding of the Queen, every quip about her comments on her appearance never failed to strike a certain nerve within her.

“I think you should piss off and go eat another loaf of bread, Birna.” she practically sneered.

The woman before her gasped, ready to probably scream at her while Bran simply let his forehead fall into the palm of his hand, but everyone was interupted when two of the guards entered the room through the wide open doors off to the side.

“Your majesty.” the one guard spoke. “The Witcher has arrived.”

Moira’s head turned, not in any mood to entertain whatever guest her brother brought to Skellige, but when she looked into a pair of bright, golden colored eyes every predisposition she had about this meeting slipped off of her like silk.

Even when the guest had turned his eyes away towards the King, Moira’s breath was still caught in her throat as she took in the man clad in black armor and hair like snow. Even in Skellige’s notable army and navy she has never seen anyone radiate a certain strength the way he did as he entered the room.

But there was something more that made her stomach churned. She wasn’t sure if it was the allure of the Witcher or something deeper, but she could feel every hair stand up on the back of her neck as she watched him nod his head towards Bran and Birna.

“Your majesties,” the Witcher said, with such formality.

Then, the Witcher turned towards her and part of her was siding with Birna’s idea on perhaps bathing and changing before she was present for this.

“Princess.”

“Hi.” Moira stammered, her voice barely above a whisper from how dry her throat went.  

Awkwardly, she glanced at Saorise who stood tall with her hands behind her back and she looked back at her quite unimpressed, raising a brow at the Princess who now looked more red than she did earlier when facing the harsh breeze from the ocean.

“Uh, may I ask why we needed to bring a Witcher out to Skellige, brother?” Moira asked, stepping forward.

Out of the corner of her eye, Moira watched Birna’s nose flare from the angry glare she shot over at her, but Bran did not seem to mind her behavior one bit.

“I am not one to be up to date on what monsters lurk the Isles, but when we live in such uncharted waters, I try my best to know what at least poses a threat to us on a yearly basis. But something is off this year, and they’ve been traveling much closer to the villages than normal. The strangest thing is most of our waters have become frozen over almost entirely!”

“Of course.” The Witcher said.

Then Bran turned his attention to her.

“And Geralt here has been so kind to accept our offer in return for his help.” he stated.

So, he has a name.

Moira knew about the Drowners, and the guilt she had been harboring for weeks now started to slip through the cracks.

It was taking everything in her power not to get so visibly worked up, and she glanced at the Witcher who had already been looking at her as if he could hear every thought in her head which didn’t make her any less uneasy.

The Drowners have always been a problem, which is why most of the townspeople try to stay away from the streams that trickle in from the ocean. It was always a once in a while occurrence when a child would get snatched up or a drunkard would stumble too close on their walks back home late at night and disappear. This year though, there has been six people that have been presumed dead already and it hardly ever even happened in the winter months to begin with.

Unknowing to her family, Moira had been spending most of her free time with Rotty, Orin, and Arnie trying to hunt them down the past couple of weeks. It was important to them to keep watch, being that these disappearances were hitting too close to home and because King Bran had ordered them too But of course, it was in Moira’s nature to insert herself into such duties and the boys didn’t argue with her on it either. One of the bastards even snuck up on her and left a nasty scratch between her shoulder blades that Saorise has been trying to heal and cover up in the meantime.

No one knew the true story though.

The fact that her brother found it necessary to involve a Witcher though only made the whole ordeal harder to swallow.

“Drowners shouldn’t be able to survive long if they water is frozen over like you say.” the Witcher says, turning his attention to the King.

“I know.” Bran sighed. “But even still, sightings of them have increased according to the people of this isle and my men. I want the fear to be put at ease if possible and figure out what the hell is happening. We will make your stay as comfortable as you need for the time it takes you to get to the source of it.”

“I appreciate the generosity, your majesty.” Geralt said, forcing a polite smile upon his face that looked painful even to watch. “I’ll get on it right away.”

With the hardset face he entered the palace with, Moira wouldn’t have even thought it was possible for a Witcher to smile. But aside from the appeal this Witcher had and the promise he gave her brother on handling the Drowners, Moira knew that this couldn’t be solved by just slaying one beast and that this man probably had no idea what he was getting himself into on Skellige. She would say she’s been doing a good job at containing the issue at the least.

“I need to go.” Moira whispered to Saorise.

“Princess—” the mage tried to argue.

Moira needed to tell Rotty, Arnie, and Orin about the Witcher business as soon as possible. It could wait til they return, but she didn’t want to risk it knowing that they had to get their stories straight in case they got involved.

Realistically, she wouldn’t admit that her ego had been tainted ever so slightly knowing that solving the Drowners problem would all be credited to the Witcher when she had been putting the work in for weeks now. Then again, as much as she tried to deny it, it was her mess in the first place. But if her family knew of what she was doing, she’d surely be shipped off to Cintra.

Turning on the heels of her boots, Moira left the throne room and was welcomed by the quiet halls and their eerie paintings, picking up her pace when she was out of sight from everyone else. But faintly against the glossy marble floors, she heard a heavy pair of boots catching up to her.

“Princess.” said the deep, even tired voice of the Witcher.

Immediately straightening her spine, Moira turned around, nearly staggering back when she realized how quickly Geralt had caught up to her.

“Good evening, Sir…Witcher? Geralt?”

Gods, she hated herself. Every once of confidence in the face of a man who spent his life killing off monsters disappeared into thin air and watching the corner of his lip twitch upwards in the slightest made her only feel more ashmed.

“Geralt is fine.”

Nodding slowly, Moira averted her eyes elsewhere, hoping that he would get to the point of what he wanted to say.

“And what can I help you with, Geralt?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

Then, the Witcher crossed his arms and looked down at her.

“What can you tell me about the Drowners that have been terrorizing your people?”

Suddenly, her shoulders fell and her posture slacked as she looked at him incredulously. It was impossible for him to have an inkling of an idea that she had been hunting them already. Her mind jumped to Saorise but even if her mage did let it slip, there wouldn’t have been any time for her to mention it to the Witcher given how quickly he caught up to her after leaving the throne room.

“I beg your pardon?” Moira scoffed.

Geralt bemusingly raised his brows at her. “I don’t encounter Drowners often, but I would recognize the scar on your back anywhere.”

Every word that has come from his mouth since he stepped foot into the hallway has been one crashing wave after another. Mentally, she was caught under the tide, every breath for air being cut off by another surprise from him.

“How the hell can you see that?” she snapped, foolishly glancing behind her as if she would be able to see the three claw marks.

The smug look on his face did not fade as he waited for her to finally explain, staring at her with those golden eyes that made her feel like he already knew every lie she was about to spew.

“Your mage did the trick, however, those kinds of spells can sometimes only hide things from the human eye.”

Sighing heavily, it made sense and she inwardly groaned, unable to even be frustrated at Saorise for not including every living soul in the spell that hid her wounds. But then again, no one expected a Witcher to arrive on the castle’s doorstep. There was no sense in lying now, but that didn’t mean she had to listen to her rationale.

“My friends and I were enjoying a walk by the waters and one caught us by surprise. Nothing more, nothing less. I didn’t want my family to worry so my mage covered up for me.” Moira said, as innocent as possible.

The Witcher was here for coin, and that was it. But even still, she couldn’t risk letting anyone know what she had been doing away from the castle for the people.

“And you didn’t notice anything strange about this one?”

“Of course not, it looked like it normally looks.”

The words slipped out so fast that she didn’t even realize what she had said, and her face seemed to drain of all its color like the lie she had been caught in was sucking it away.

“So, you have seen them before?” Geralt asked, raising a brow.

Moira shrugged, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Of course I have. Everyone knows at least one of them pops up every year.”

Geralt’s face settled, and he too crossed his arms, heaving out a sight as his golden eyes scanned the hall around them. Perhaps she was safe for now, but she could hear her own heartbeat pulsing in her ears now as she stared at his chizeled face.

“You’re lying.” he said, his gaze falling back on her.

Moira blinked at him, brows furrowing at the Witcher who was beginning to irritate her.

“I believe you’re saying that in hopes that I will admit to lying, which I’m not.”

As her blood began to boil, she could see in Geralt’s eyes that he was finding this amusing.

“I could hear your heartbeat when your brother first brought up the Drowners and even now, it sounds like your heart is ready to explode in your chest.”

Moira stood there, focusing now on how fast her heart had been racing and realizing she had become flustered as she tried to keep up with her story with every question the Witcher threw at her. If she couldn’t cover it up anymore, she knew a diversion was her best bet.

“That’s very romantic of you.” Moira scoffed, rolling her eyes before settling back on him with a stern glare. “And rude.”

“You don’t strike me as the Princess to follow such formalities. After all, you did tell the Queen to go eat a loaf of bread.” Geralt shrugged.

“This is ridiculous!” Moira laughed dryly, throwing her hands in the air. “I could tell my brother to send you away right now for speaking to a Princess like this, let alone his sister. Drowners be damned, he wouldn’t tolerate your behavior.”

Geralt then stepped closer, just enough so that Moira had to tilt her head up and she could have swore that her heart stuttered in her chest as she was now forced to look at him. She didn’t back up, and thought maybe she should for a second, but her pride got the best of her as she tilted her chin up.

“You won’t tell your brother because you know that you can’t fend off the Drowners on your own.”

Moira considered telling the Witcher her theories as to why the Drowners were traveling closer to villages, she considered letting it be known that she had been hunting them down as best as she could, and maybe even offer to help him. But something in her bit down on her tongue, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of caving in so quickly.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to go to bed now. Just do what you have to do, collect your coin, and be on your way Witcher.” Moira said softly, turning on her heels once more to walk back to her room.

Every step down the hallway though, the hairs were still standing on the back of her neck, feeling those eyes staring at her spine even when she made it back to her quarters where not a single sound was to be made other than the bath water her maids were preparing for her.

Once she settled into the scorching hot water that was like candy to her aching muscles for the day, all Moira could do was lean  her head back and shut her eyes in the granite tub hidden in its own little part of her room. Her thoughts mulled over her awful conversation with the Witcher, and deep down she was utterly, hopelessly convinced that he saw right through her lies and would find out the truth sooner or later.

“You ran off in a hurry.” said her mage as she entered the rom with a freshly cleaned towel and her nightgown.

Moira opened her tired eyes and looked at the women, her face falling just a little.

“Saorise, you don’t have to do that for me.” she sighed, watching as she placed down a small jar of herbs for her wound.

“I know you may not act like a Princess at times, but you deserve to be treated like one.” Saorise smiled, pulling over a chair.

Moira leaned forward, pulling her knees up to her chest where she rested her chin, exposing her upper back as the bubbles that smelled of lemon and sandalwood floated around her. They say in silence as Saorise gently rubbed the healing mixture over her wounds and she could have fallen asleep right then and there.

“Apparently the Witcher saw the scratches the Drowner made.”

Saorise sighed. “I was hoping your shirt would cover it enough for him not to notice. Witchers can often see through such a delicate spell I used. I didn’t know you two spoke.”

Moira huffed and smiled grimly.

“Oh, we spoke alright. The man is rude, pushy, and just annoying.”

“Sounds like a little girl I knew.” her mage chuckled.

“Okay, that is not the point.” Moira laughed, glancing back at her. “He was trying to find out what I knew about the Drowners, and somehow he knew I was lying about it all. It was quite forward, honestly. He said he could hear my heartbeat and knew that I was trying to fight them on my own more or less.” she ranted.

“Well, he obviously isn’t wrong, Princess. Why don’t you inform the Witcher on how much King Bran has miscalculated how many Drowners are actually lingering and let him handle it?”

That was a good point.

“The Witcher has officially pissed me off. He can go find out for himself quite frankly for all I care. But when Rotty, Orin, and Arnie come back I’m picking up right where we left off.” Moira said pridefully.

Moira could hear Saorise sigh behind her and even while she knew she was being a bit harsh, Geralt could not simply enter her home, demand answers, and pick apart every little word she spoke to him without thinking it would irritate her.

“King Bran is throwing a feast tomorrow for the Witcher’s arrival. Everyone from the Isles will be there to hopefully become aware that this situation will be handled. Maybe then you could try and have a more civil conversation with him.”

Of course, Bran was throwing a party for this. She would be lying if she said she hated them, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth at the thought of celebrating while families still mourned their losses.

The idea of trying to reason with the Witcher sounded better though, and perhaps she would give it another shot.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I always am so you must hate me terribly so.” Saorise sighed dramatically.

#geralt of rivera #Geralt of Rivia x you #the witcher #the witcher x you #geralt x you #geralt x yn #geralt x reader #geralt x oc #the witcher x reader #the witcher x oc #the witcher x yn

[henrys-little-princess]

hi darlings!! another geralt prompt for you all tonight!! it was requested, but silly tumblr ate the ask!!

geralt x reader, rated m! -xo poppet :)

tag list: @thereisa8ella @myloveforhenrycavill @lharrietg @little-brattyangel

prompt: giggly cuddles

Morning, Humor Bug

It was one of those mornings where you absolutely did not want to get out of bed. Beds were few and far in-between on the road and it had taken several days of coaxing to convince Geralt you could both use one - no matter his grumbling, he did love to sleep on something soft, but getting him to fork up the coin necessary it was like pulling teeth!

But the hot bath the night before had been heavenly for the both of you. You had worked up a lather in Geralt’s hair and couldn’t help grinning as he melted back into you, and he’d done an excellent job of getting the dust and dirt of the road off of you. An excellent and gentle job.

The morning had been anything but gentle, but it certainly wasn’t anything you would be complaining about. You stretched and stretched until you heard your back pop, sagging back into the sheets and covers with a loud sigh, a wonderfully pleased smile on your lips as you cracked your eyelids open just enough to peak over at your bed companion.

Geralt looked like he didn’t want to ever move again. He was melting back into his pillow, eyes closed, hair fanned out around his head and a light sheen of sweat on his gloriously bare chest. You couldn’t help but reach out and run your hand across it, seeing his nose twitch but otherwise not reacting to the touch. Letting it rest over his heart you took a moment to just enjoy this, feeling its steady and slightly fast pulse beneath your fingertips.

Well. Fast for a witcher, anyway. Your own nose twitched; the mutations were something you were still learning about, and sometimes they could be rather confusing.

You snuggled up closer to him, nudging his arm with your noses, grinning as you snuggled up closer. Looking up, you caught sight of an expression that threatened to make you burst out into giggles, because Geralt was doing his absolute best to act sour.

“Something on your mind, sour puss?” You held the tip of your tongue between your teeth as Geralt pinched his whole face together, golden orbs sparkling with mirth even as his entire face pulled into a most ferocious scowl.

It was too much. Some people actually feared this man - people who had no reason to, which was the baffling part. Decent, good, wonderful people who believed Geralt could actually bring himself to harm them - and that, at that moment, in your post morning-romp bliss, was just so ridiculous that it finally burst the giggle dam. And once you got started, you simply could not stop.

You laughed, snuggling up into his side, and laughed some more. When you felt them petering off you made the mistake of looking back up at Geralt, and the moment your eyes met he scowled even more ridiculously and set you off all over again. By the end of it you were tucked up close to his side, snuggling into his chest with his arms around you, and tears were streaming down your face and wetting his chest from the giggles that refused to stop.

Geralt nuzzled your hair when they at last were nothing more than little shakes that started and ended in your chest. He placed a few kisses on the top of your head, in your hair, and when you once again dared to look up it absolutely wasn’t a mistake.

The look on his face was so soft it made your chest flutter from something other than laughter. He took a moment to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, leaning in just enough to kiss your forehead before saying, “Morning, humor bug.”

And you thought, disgustingly sweet pet name aside, it was a rather wonderful morning.

#geralt #geralt of rivia #henry cavill #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt x female reader #geralt x yn #geralt x y/n #geralt fanfic #geralt imagine #geralt drabble #geralt fanfiction #geralt thirst #geralt smut #the cavillry #poppet writes

[smuttyfantasyrecs]

Geralt of Rivia

🦋 innocence 🦋 make up sex 🦋 golden 🦋 (multi-character/fandom masterlist) 🦋

@sinner-as-saint

🦋 eye contact 🦋

@captainsy-cookiemonster

🦋 does the carpet match the drapes 🦋

@sif-the-tsunami

🦋 healing hands 🦋

@clints-lucky-arrow

🦋 mine 🦋

@stranger-nightmare

🦋 little red, big bad 🦋 feast 🦋

@littlefreya

🦋 bratty ways 🦋

@voxmortuus

🦋 masterlist 🦋

@chixkencxrry

🦋 a jealous man 🦋

@sunflowersteves

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x yn #the witcher netflix #the witcher smut #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fic #henry cavill #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia headcanons #the witcher headcanons #sinner as saint

[velvetcloxds]

in love with you- send me a character and an au scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Can I please ask for a Tangled!AU for Geralt of Rivia + Princess!Reader, please? Thank you!

RUFFIENS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 0.8k words

warnings: reader having very long hair, geralt being a grumpy little simp

Geralt knew the feeling of frustration well, an annoyance to the point of murder, that nagging tug to his brain that had his fist shaking around his glass and his eyes burning- this time, however, the feeling was different, clouded, as annoyed as he was, he was also sort of awed, vividly aware of the fact that he didn't look away from you for even a second as you walked about the drunken witchers with a smile bright enough to light up all of Kaer Morhen despite the darkness that loomed its halls. You were hardly the threatening kind, in fact, he was sure he could quite easily force the information you promised right out of you without much, if any hassle, but when he saw you or rather saved you from the tower your mother had kept you in, he caved into taking you to see the floating lights you'd very adamantly demanded to see.

He questioned your reasoning when you so senselessly considered him a trustworthy traveling companion, it spoke of ignorance and naivety, evidence of being robbed from the company of other humans or living beings for that matter since he was yet to determine what or who you really were aside for a princess. He brought you to his winter home purely for shock value, needing to pass the stony confines on the way to your destination anyway, so he considered it only fitting to tease you some in the process- he'd not, for even a second, considered that you'd be just as sickeningly sweet in a room full of murderers as you were with just the one, him, of course.

You were currently sat atop one of the bulky wooden tables, fawning over Lambert's curls as he offered you a sip of his drink, he looked up at you much like he would an innocent deer running across his path- conflicted between finding you unmentionable adorable and just a bit too foolish and weak to be around him. He allowed you to drag a hand through his curls, musing about the ways you could braid it for him so it bothered him less, giving him advice about keeping it healthy while gesturing to your own hair that spread down the table onto the floor, comically well-kept despite what might be assumed.

"Las, I shall humour your remedies for keeping the curls at bay, but you're not bringing any leaves near me," he reprimanded and you giggled as you sat back, feet peeking out from the hem of your dress as you folded your legs under you, not at all looking like the princess the witchers were accustomed to, admittedly much more satisfying to be around, to listen to and to talk to- you'd managed to charm a group of men who hated your kind with all their hearts.

Geralt was walking towards you before he even knew it, reaching out to support your back when you leaned back just a tad too far while laughing at Lambert's opinions on the different flowers he'd seen on his hunts, listing all the very many reasons why he despised them. A few hours ago the touch of the fingers spread out over the thinning material would've felt foreign, unknown, but despite how uncharted Geralt's presence was to your existence, his touch was quickly becoming familiar, comfortable regardless of how uncaring it was.

"Careful," he grunted though the sound wasn't nearly as annoyed as he wished it to be, earning a shy smile from your lips as you moved your hair out of place to turn around towards him, looking up at him with those big eyes that were daring to break through his cold exterior. "Wouldn't want you to fall and get injured, might not make it to the stars."

"Floating lights," you reminded, he was almost regretting his mistake when your smile threatened to dip into a frown, shaking his system with nerves for being the reason for it. However, luckily the notion was interrupted by a giant yawn, the motion of you slipping from the table to stand next to him being far too smooth. "And I don't think you'd mind it all that much if you didn't have to take me to see them."

"What makes you think that?" he mused and you swore his eyes were lighter as he spoke, a sense of playfulness behind the golden orbs, but you didn't think of it too much, scared to get your hopes up, instead, you gathered your hair into a big ball in your hands, smiling at the white wolf when he helped you do so.

"Just a suspicion that I have," you shrugged in return and tucked the last few inches of roots under your arm, dreading the process of having to braid the main in the morning, not used to having to do so alone- but before you could make your way to the room Geralt had pointed out as yours, you looked back up at him with a sincere smile, one he noted to be very different from the thousand other smiles you were capable of. "Thank you, Geralt," you breathed and he was notably surprised, a foreign feeling for him, you supposed because he didn't recover from the slip of emotion as quickly as you expected. "I know you're only doing this to get something out of me, but I appreciate it still, so thank you," you leaned up to kiss his cheek, a brisk gesture, hardly long enough for him to react before you were tiredly skipping away from him.

"You need to be careful with that one," Lambert noted, a perfect position to have viewed the whole scene as he looked at his friend with a knowing nod. "A girl like that won't be easy to let go of," he explained and Geralt was frozen, dazed as he looked at the arch you just walked through, frazzled and confused as the feeling of your lips still tingled against his white skin.

"Get rid of," he corrected but he wasn't convinced and neither was Lambert because right before his eyes the witcher in question stood lingering, no doubt listening to your steps, determining if you made it safely to your room, a fool really for thinking you hadn't already thread your way into his heart.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia one shot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #monique's writing events #right where queue left me #tangled au #tangled!reader #princess!reader

[whitewolfandthefox]

Stay With Me

This was a request sent in by @thenocturnalsyren​ I’ve cut a little bit of the prompt out because I thought it would spoil the ending, and we all know I hate doing that :P 

Prompt: Can I get a Geralt x reader? He’s tasked to escort a princess (reader) to her betrothed’s kingdom. It’s a political marriage and she doesn’t know the prince she’s set to marry. Over the course of the journey, Geralt and the reader fall in love. 

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

Words: 8k

Summary: Geralt x reader; Geralt has been tasked with escorting you to complete a business deal with another family. He thinks it will be an easy job, but little does he know, the deal isn’t what it seems to be. And you have a secret you haven’t revealed.

A/N. Sooo, I’ve sat on this one for a while, so sorry! It also got super long, I was hoping to keep it under 3k and thaaaat didn’t happen. Oops!

Stay With Me

Geralt had fallen. Hard. He hadn’t expected to enjoy this journey as much as he did when they had started out, but he also hadn’t counted on you. The Witcher normally didn’t do escort jobs, but he and Jaskier had been short on coin and it had seemed fairly easy, so he’d agreed to take it. You were fairly agreeable as well; you didn’t complain, you helped with tasks around the camp, and Roach liked you, so obviously you were good to have along. 

When the three of you had started out on your journey (Jaskier had come with you, proclaiming something about beautiful ladies being angry), you had been very quiet. The bard would try to draw you into conversations but you would just give him a small smile and deftly avoid the question or comment. Geralt had noticed this but didn’t do anything about it, figuring you were wary of the pair or perhaps that you thought yourself above them. He knew you came from a well-off family, but your title hadn’t been disclosed to them. You were travelling for a business deal, finalizing a contract between your two families. As your small group had departed in the middle of the night, the Witcher couldn’t help feeling suspicious of the true nature of the arrangement. For safety, he was told; a rival family had been after you recently, wanting the benefits of this deal for themselves. This didn’t sit right with him, but the coin was good, so he pushed the feeling aside.

After watching you for a few days, Geralt had decided you weren’t a threat. Sure, you were quiet, but you had started engaging with the pair and were always keen to help out. He shrugged before pushing you to the back of his mind, content that the next few weeks should be fairly easy and he would get decent pay out of it.

His assessment of you was shaken about two weeks into the journey. You had relaxed around them, even starting to respond to Jaskier’s gentle attempts to include you. The bard had been delighted at your responses, slowly working his way under your skin. You were funny, you had little quips that you would fire back at him followed by your clear laugh ringing through the air. Geralt had thought that maybe he would have had to keep him away from you but Jaskier had been on his best behavior, not going past any mild flirting. The Witcher had chalked it up to the fact Jaskier was respecting that Geralt was travelling with them as well, not wanting to suffer the Witcher’s silent glare he directed at the bard whenever he engaged in a tryst within earshot.

Though still wary, Geralt gradually grew to realize he enjoyed your company. Your laugh would coax a faint smile out of him; you left gentle touches on his shoulder as you passed him while setting up camp. He was astounded; normally nobles were disgusted by him, not wanting to get too close. You were different though: this was the most relaxed that Geralt had seen you since the journey had started. 

What really transformed his opinion of you was when Geralt had awoken in the middle of the night to hear you crying. You had tried to keep quiet, muffling the sounds into your blanket as you sobbed. He hadn’t moved, not wanting to let you know that he was awake to overhear your misery. This happened this next several days: Geralt waking up to hear you crying softly to yourself. He never addressed it, only making sure that a plate of food was ready for you, gently pushing it in your direction. He was met with puffy, red rimmed eyes and a wet smile, a soft murmur of thanks occasionally accompanying them.

Geralt tried to push one day, asking you about where you were traveling and the real reason behind it. He didn’t know why he cared, but something wasn’t sitting right with him, and maybe he enjoyed your company and didn’t like seeing you so sad. Obviously this wasn’t just a regular business deal; an ordinary contract wouldn’t drive you to tears nearly every night. You had dodged the questions, giving generic answers that sounded like they had been memorized, as if for a test. When he asked about the details of the business deal, you shut down. You offered him a tight smile before announcing that the group needed more wood and disappearing into the trees. Jaskier had sent a glance at the Witcher, confused by your mood. “What was that about?”

Geralt could only offer a shrug, unable to answer the bard’s question. The two continued staring at the fire, letting their sore muscles relax after the long day of travel. The quiet was broken by a sudden scream. Geralt shot to his feet, sprinting into the woods before he had consciously decided to move and cursing himself for letting you go off on your own.

As he raced through the forest, he could hear the clash of steel on steel, punctuated by shouting, the sounds of a fight reaching him through the trees. He skidded to a stop in a clearing, sword in hand. As he frantically searched the area, a flash of light alerted him to a blade swinging for his head. He spun to the side, knocking the sword away and down with his own as he came face to face with you, wild-eyed as you dropped your weapon at the sight of him. He had forgotten that you wore a sword.

The Witcher gaped at you as Jaskier came running in behind him, the stunned silence that had fallen over the clearing broken by your sobs as tears spilled from your eyes. Jaskier was quick to wrap you in an embrace, shushing you as he ran a hand soothingly through your hair, supporting you as you sagged towards the ground. Geralt didn’t relax, sharp gaze scanning the clearing in an effort to determine what had happened. His confusion rose as he saw three bodies scattered across the ground, clearly having been dispatched by a blade. 

It wasn't often that the Witcher was surprised. You were clearly competent with a sword; he couldn’t think of any other explanation for the three dead men and the bloodied blade you had dropped. Trusting Jaskier to look after you, he moved cautiously towards the men, kneeling next to the first one as he searched the body for clues that would give an indication of who had attacked you and why. As he looked at the uniform the first man was wearing, he recognized the Vaithan crest, a kingdom across the river from the one you had left. Sparing a glance at the other two, his frown grew as he saw the same uniforms adorning them. Why were Vaithan soldiers after you? Why were the royal guards getting involved in a business deal?

Investigation finished, Geralt approached the pair, drawing Jaskier’s attention as he neared. He gestured back towards your campsite, the bard understanding his silent request as he nudged you to a standing position, pulling you against himself to help support you. You stumbled along, eyes glassy as your breath hitched in short, shallow gasps. 

Reaching your things, Geralt helped Jaskier get you onto the ground, busying himself with cleaning your sword as the other man continued to soothe you before turning his attention to the fire. His mind was whirling, confused thoughts surrounding you and the reasons behind your journey. There were people after you, that was clear, but he didn’t understand why. He was just adding more wood to stoke the flames when Jaskier’s low voice broke into his thoughts. The tone that the bard had used aroused concern in him.

“Geralt, can you come take a look at this?” As the Witcher approached, Jaskier held his arm out, hand covered in blood. Geralt’s heart shot into his mouth, panicked as he rushed towards the bard, hands darting out as he searched the man for the wound he had to have sustained. 

“Geralt, Geralt! I’m fine! Geralt!” The bard was shouting at the man, slapping his hands away from his body. “It’s not mine!”

The Witcher froze as the words registered in his mind before turning his attention to you. He slowly moved to your other side, noting how your eyes were distant, chest labouring as you struggled for breath. Following Jaskier’s directions, he quickly cut away the bloodied cloth - how did he not notice this before, he should have smelled the scent of blood on you - to reveal a deep gash on the back of your upper arm. Jaskier maintained a tight grip on the wound, keeping the flow to a minimum as Geralt retrieved his healing supplies. A salve was quickly applied before stitches were put into the wound and a bandage wrapped around the arm. You were unresponsive throughout the Witcher’s ministrations, the man having to gently move you to get access to your wound. As the first stitch went in you flinched, before remaining motionless as he continued. He could hear your breaths hitching as he worked, heart pulling at your unresponsiveness.

After coaxing a sleeping potion into you, the pair put you to bed, Geralt drawing a blanket over your shoulders as a heavy feeling settled in his gut at your stillness. He listened attentively, reassured by the sound of your thumping steadily in his ears as he watched your chest rise and fall. He told himself it was because of the job: it was his responsibility to keep you safe, there was nothing else behind the concern that he felt for you.

**~*~*~*~**

You were a little groggy the next morning, not quite functioning at one hundred percent. Geralt found it fucking funny, you were normally so put together that seeing you lost was a little bit endearing. You looked like a puppy, wide eyed and pouting. He helped you throughout the day, making sure you ate breakfast, redressing your wound, and keeping you on Roach with him while Jaskier rode your horse. He kept this up throughout the next few days, even as you started being able to do things yourself. Something in his chest would soften, a tightly coiled knot tugged loose when you would smile shyly up at him and quietly thank him, and Geralt found himself doing more for you just to draw them out.

Once you had healed, he tentatively asked if you wanted to practice your swordwork. You were clearly competent (you had taken down three grown men on your own, after all) but he wanted to make see for himself. Knowing you were smaller than him and weren’t as strong, Geralt decided he would tone it down a little bit to give you a fighting chance. Little did he know that you had been trained by one of the best swordmasters in your kingdom, maybe the continent. You had been the youngest of five daughters, so your father had treated you like the son he never had. You had been allowed to run rampant, joining him on hunts and practicing swordplay. This had left you a free spirit, never content to sit through the stuffy business deals your family conducted. This was the most fun you had had in a long time. 

Without the knowledge that you were an extremely well trained swordswoman, Geralt held himself back as he faced off against you. Much to his surprise he quickly found himself on his back, your sword at his throat. Looking up to see a cocky grin on your face, clearly pleased with how quickly you had overcome him, he felt a flash of admiration and something else burn through him. The scent of pride drifted through the air towards him, pushing him over the edge. He growled low in his throat as he knocked your blade away, leaping to his feet as he grabbed for his sword, throwing himself completely into sparring as you recovered from the surprise, a feral laugh bursting out of your chest. As you held your own against him, Geralt felt proud, and a little bit excited he had finally found someone who could keep up with him.

The fight ended as Geralt twisted his blade, sending yours flying across the clearing. He was reversing it to bring to your throat, caught off guard as you launched yourself at him with a shout, wrestling him for the sword as you tackled him to the ground. The blade was quickly lost as you rolled through the grass, your breathless giggles warming Geralt’s heart. He ended up on top of you, arms on either side of your head as he supported his body over yours. You grinned up at him, chest heaving, clearly pleased with your performance. Your expression slowly changed to something else, something more intense that the Witcher couldn’t read as your scent changed. It was a pleasant mixture, light and airy, not something he normally smelt, a sharp scent mixed in that he couldn’t identify. He could hear your heart racing in your chest as you gazed up at him, lips parted as you remained relaxed beneath him.

He didn’t know what came over him as his eyes flicked down to your lips and back up before leaning down, your breath mixing with his as he got closer. Abruptly, Jaskier’s loud voice boomed through the clearing, startling the two of you as Geralt rolled to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you up. He could see a light blush dusting your cheeks as you fixed your clothes, refusing to look at him. Disappointment and embarrassment drifted through the air, confusing the Witcher before he shook himself, turning to see a slightly inebriated bard stumbling through the trees. Your attention was quickly taken as you fussed over Jaskier, forcing water and some herbs into him before you put him to bed. As you did this, Geralt kept catching the glances you sent his way, charged with something that he couldn’t identify. 

As the days went on, you relaxed further with the two, starting to show physical affection to the both of them. Jaskier was given playful swats whenever he would tease you, accompanied by your laugh as you quipped something back at him. Geralt found he wanted to see the smiles sent his way, rather than the bard’s, though he was not without your attention. You gifted the Witcher with gentle lingering touches, your hand resting on his shoulder or his arm as you would slip past him. Sometimes, you would cajole the man to sit in front of you as you carefully brushed and braided his hair, working loose the tangles formed during one of your sparring sessions or a hunt. 

You were still being hunted, but now that Geralt knew it was Vaithan soldiers after you it was easy to evade them. He had worked with them before, so he was familiar with their patrol patterns and tracking methods. He would lay false trails for them, sending them on wild goose chases through the wilderness. Occasionally they would catch up to the small group, but between you and Geralt they were quickly dispatched. The aftermath was filled with gentle touches from you or the Witcher, the other sitting quietly through their ministrations. There were no serious wounds; the two of you quickly learned each other’s fighting styles and adapted to complement each other. Often there were no wounds to be found, just sore muscles to be attended to. 

As you got more comfortable in the Witcher’s presence, you started teasing him as well. Nicknames like ‘the big bad wolf’ or ‘big bad witcher’ started to be commonplace in your vocabulary. He would tease you back, calling you ‘flower’ or ‘little duck’. If he was particularly annoyed with you, ‘princess’ would appear. You had flinched the first time he called you that, before firing back a particularly clever quip, drawing Jaskier in as well. You didn’t flinch the second time, but Geralt didn’t often use that nickname, sensing there was something else behind it.

When you were close to towns Jaskier started finding reasons to leave the two of you alone. It was awkward at first, but you quickly fell into a rhythm. There was a lot of teasing that slowly fell into a companionable silence, which you sometimes filled with your chatter. It often ended with you tucked into Geralt’s side, tracing patterns into his knee as you stared at the fire. His fingers would fidget, tapping different rhythms onto your skin. It was nice, Geralt thought, having someone to share the silence with. Jaskier never shut up, but he was also just a friend. You, you were different, maybe more than a friend. As he came to this realization, he looked down to find you staring up at him, emotion swimming in your eyes. 

The air felt charged, as if he was being drawn to you. The world stopped as he drowned in your eyes, pulled into their Y/E/C depths as he slowly leaned down, your eyes fluttering shut but not releasing him from their spell as he pressed his lips against yours, breath mingling as you sighed into him. You shifted, turning your body into him as one hand found his chest while the other fisted into his hair. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him. You went willingly, allowing yourself to be moved so that you were straddling his thighs, leaning into his chest as your lips moved against his. He only pulled back when he needed air, your chest heaving as you leaned your forehead against him. He opened his eyes to see a smile, face serene as you caught your breath. As if you felt his gaze on you your eyes opened to meet his. He felt as if he was caught within your gaze, peace filling him, feeling as if he was finally able to get air after drowning for so long. 

You giggled as you lay your head on his chest, draping yourself against him. “This is nice,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle as you went boneless against him. 

Geralt hummed in agreement, liking the warm feeling that came over him at the feeling of your body on his. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close. He could smell your pleasure drifting through the air, encouraging him to nuzzle into your hair.

“I wish I could stay like this forever, in this moment with you.” You pulled back slightly, looking at the man with a genuine expression on your face. “I really do care for you, Geralt. Thank you.”

Your hand came up to cup his cheek and he leaned into it, keeping his eyes on you. His lips quirked upwards before he leaned forward, capturing your lips again. This kiss was messy, a battle of tongue and teeth as he nipped your bottom lip, exploring your mouth with his tongue when you gasped at the sensation. His hands roamed downwards, finding a place on your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sounds, chasing you until one of your hands tangled itself into his hair, pulling on the strands. He growled at the feeling, kissing and nipping down your neck as you gasped, grinding down on him. 

You tilted your head back, granting him better access to your throat. A rush of adrenaline ran through him at that motion; he didn’t want you baring your throat for any other man, you were his. Overcome by the desire to claim, he bit down on tender, supple skin, sucking a mark into the hollow above your collarbone. You yelped at the action, tugging at his hair again. Your breath stuttered as you managed to gasp his name, “Ger- Geralt, I can’t.”

He growled again, pleased that he had reduced you to this. He moved to your other side, biting at your shoulder, groaning as you jerked against him. “Geralt, stop, please-”

At the sound of your pleading voice, some sort of warning went off, forcing him to think rather than acting on his baser instincts. He drew back, pausing at the look on your face. He couldn’t smell the bitter scent of fear, but you looked nervous. You were flushed, lips swollen from his attention, but your eyes held a hidden emotion. Frowning, he ran a hand through your hair as you refused to meet his gaze. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - Sorry, I just-”

He halted your stuttering as he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, knot loosening in his chest as you melted against him, returning the kiss fiercely. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask. Forgive me, little duck.”

You smiled before tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I do- want to- I just, I’ve never...” Again, he shushed you, one hand rubbing patterns into your back as the other tightened around your waist.

“I have all the time in the world for you. We’ll take it slow.”

**~*~*~*~**

After that night, you were much more tactile with the Witcher. Most nights found you in his lap, relaxing into his embrace as you wildly told a story from your childhood, Jaskier in stitches next to you. You started pulling your bedroll closer to his, inching it closer night by night. The bard had finally had enough of your bullshit, marching over and picking up your bedroll only to lay it next to Geralt’s as he shot a knowing look at the two of you. You had blushed at that, refusing to look at either man for a little while. You hadn’t moved it back though, and the next morning you had woken up with your legs tangled in Geralt’s, head on his chest as he held you tucked against him. 

You stole kisses from him throughout the day, leaving gentle touches on his arms as you passed him. You let Jaskier ride your horse, choosing instead to stay with Geralt, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you as you travelled. You continued your training bouts, though they often ended in fierce makeout sessions rather than actual fighting. It was a good life, and you were happy with what you had. You could almost forget about your destination, about the actual reason for your travelling, the one that neither man knew about.

Almost.

**~*~*~*~**

As the small trio got closer to their destination, you grew tenser and quieter, shrinking into yourself as you withdrew from the pair. Jaskier tried to draw you out of your shell, but his best attempts weren’t enough. Geralt pressed you, trying to understand why you were suddenly pulling away, frustrated at the lack of response. One night, when Jaskier had left the two of you alone, Geralt confronted you about what was happening.

“Y/N, I don’t understand. What’s wrong?” Geralt had knelt in front of you, effectively trapping you as you would have had to step over and around him to escape. You couldn’t meet his gaze as you responded.

“Nothing is wrong, Geralt, I am merely preparing for when I meet my betrothed.” At your words, it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the Witcher, dousing him in the reality of your situation. He had forgotten you were a noble, seeming to enjoy playing games with those you considered beneath you. And play you had, leading Geralt on as he escorted you to your marriage. You weren’t any different than the rest of them.

“Your betrothed.” He saw you flinch at his flat tone, face dropping as you realized your misstep. “I see. This was all just a game to you, something to keep your mind occupied while we travelled.” 

Geralt stood, turning his back to and walking away. He closed his eyes at your sharp inhale, could hear your heart rate increase as you stumbled to your feet, chasing after him. “I will get you to your destination, and then after that I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Geralt, no, it’s not like that, you don’t understand- I would never-” He shrugged your hand off as you reached for his arm, turning to face you with a look of rage on his face. You recoiled at that action, face shocked as you pulled your hand to your chest. His heart sunk at the fear on your face, he could smell the acrid scent diffusing into the air, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t let you continue with this little game.

“What don’t I understand, princess?” he near-snarled, sneering when you flinched at the nickname. “I think it’s pretty straightforward. I was supposed to be escorting you to your wedding, and you’ve played my heart. I lo--I cared for you, I let you in. I don’t do that, never do that. But I did for you and you played me like a fucking string. Well, I thank you, princess, for illuminating that fact for me. I will make sure to never do this again.”

He turned away, fist clenching at his side as he controlled himself. He started walking away from you, pausing as he heard you let out a sob and fall to the ground, voice breaking as you screamed at him. “That’s what you don’t understand, that fucking nickname! It’s haunted me my entire life, and you were the only one who saw it for what it was, a nickname, not my fucking title!”

His heart clenched at the heartbreak clear in your voice. He closed his eyes, inhaling deepling through his nose as he fought to keep himself from running to you, wanting nothing more than to take the agony out of your voice. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing you on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Princess,” you spat, a vicious expression on your face. “I never wanted to be a princess, I hated being a princess. I forgot, Geralt, you let me forget that that’s what I was! I could be normal with you, you and Jaskier, who didn’t care about the pomp and celebration. You wanted nothing from me. I could let my guard down around you and just be myself! I didn’t, I don’t want this marriage, it’s the last thing I would do if I had the choice! But I’ll never escape it, Geralt, they will chase me down and lock me away, dress me up in fancy clothes and keep me a prisoner in that damn castle. I only want to stay with you.”

Your voice broke on the last word as sobs ripped their way out of your throat, finally releasing the misery and anguish that had been building up over the last few weeks. Geralt was left reeling; you were a princess? Fuck, that explained so much. He had known there was more to this business deal than what it appeared to be: this was a political marriage. You clearly didn’t want it, not that you seemed to have a choice. Geralt was torn: you had lied to him, yes, but it was clear you hadn’t wanted to or done it with any ill intentions. He hung his head, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. You sounded so miserable, all he wanted to do was wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the hardships of the world.

He cautiously approached you, heart breaking at the gut wrenching sobs that were being torn from your chest. He slowly knelt in front of you, reaching a hand out to place under your chin, drawing your gaze up to his. You met his eyes and Geralt could see the pain that was swimming behind your irises. His voice was soft when he spoke, though still reserved. “I believe you.”

At his words, you launched yourself forwards, catching him off guard as your momentum pushed him backwards to land on his backside, you clutched to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you babbled, words streaming out of you as you clutched at his clothing, trying desperately to get as close as you could.

He shushed you, arms pulling you closer as he tucked your head beneath his chin. He slowly rocked you, listening to the sound of your heartbeat as he examined his memories of the last few weeks, finding only fondness and warmth; he couldn’t find anything that would suggest you were doing this to hurt him. He could hear your laugh in his ears and it sounded genuine. The sobs that were forcing their way out of you were undoubtedly real, and Geralt found he didn’t want you to hurt anymore, only wanting to protect you. He dropped a kiss on the top of your head, hand releasing you to rub patterns into your back, soothing you as he continued his gentle circling motion. 

You quieted after several minutes, hiccuping as you tried to pull away. Geralt held on a moment longer, tightening his grip before rearranging you so that you were seated sideways in his lap, legs draped over his thigh as your shoulder rested against his chest. He held you loosely, arms draped around your waist as he waited for you to speak. “I’m sorry, Geralt, that I didn’t tell you the truth. I’ll understand if you want me to finish this journey by myself, if you don’t want to see me again. I’ll still give you your coin, you’ve escorted me most of the way there.”

Geralt was stunned; that was the last thing he had expected you to say. As the meaning of the words registered, he found that he didn’t want to leave you, that he didn’t want to say goodbye. It was a new feeling, a knot loosened in his chest as something pleasant warmed him from his toes up to his head. He tightened his grip on you, drawing a squeak as he growled, “I’m not letting you go anywhere, little duck.”

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, puffy eyes filled with hope. “You don’t hate me?” Your voice was small, hesitant as you spoke.

The Witcher looked down at you, hand reaching up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against yours, smiling when you sighed into his mouth and melted into his chest. Your hands came up to fist into his shirt, just resting against him. He drew away slowly, hesitant to see the look in your eyes. One of your hands came up to cup his cheek, and he instinctively turned his face into the warmth, nuzzling your palm as he pressed into the touch. You smiled up at him, eyes soft as a whispered “thank you” fell from your lips. You curled into him, hands back on his chest as you slowly drifted, Geralt holding you against him as you fell asleep. 

This was how Jaskier found the two of you a while later, a soft smile appearing on his face. When he opened his mouth to say something, Geralt growled at him. “Not a word, bard.”

Jaskier held his hands up in surrender, turning away to set up his bedroll with a smirk on his face.

**~*~*~*~**

The next two days were sad but gentle, the two of you trying to steal away as many moments together as you could before you had to leave. The Witcher had suggested not delivering you to the castle, but you had smiled sadly as you shook your head. Reaching up to run your fingers down his cheek, you had explained that you had tried to run away before, only to be hunted down and returned to your parents. After that, you hadn’t been allowed to be alone, always having a servant or guard watching you to make sure you stayed. Even before you left, your mother had warned you that if you didn’t uphold your end of the marriage, you wouldn’t have a moment of peace; you would be hunted until you were found and returned to your betrothed’s side. 

As the castle came into view, you requested a brief respite. Geralt had frowned at you as you untied a bag from your saddle, but you only offered him a tight smile before slipping into the woods. Jaskier had glanced over at the Witcher, a question on his lips, but Geralt had only shrugged, an expression that said I’m just as confused as you are on his face. It had been several minutes since you had disappeared, and Geralt shifting nervously as you still didn’t reappear. He had just made up his mind, dismounting to go after you when you appeared in the trees, the sight of you making Geralt’s heart stop.

You had changed out of your travelling clothes into a magnificent dress. The dress itself was made out of fine silk, the colour complimenting your Y/E/C eyes. It fell to your ankles, soft slippers peeking out from beneath the hem. Your sleeves ended just past your elbows, fine lace forming a ruffle along the ends. The collar draped across your chest, sleeves just off your shoulders as two thin straps covered in jewels connected behind your chest. Your hair was piled high on your head, a silver crown resting in the plaits.

Geralt realized he was staring when you blushed, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Do I look okay?” you asked demurely, shy now that your travelling companions saw you for who you really were.

“Do you look- Darling, you look amazing! That colour really suits you, it's no wonder Geralt is- ow!” The bard cut himself off as one of the Witcher’s hands shot out to smack him upside the head. Jaskier muttered to himself as he rubbed at the irritated spot, cursing Witchers under his breath. Geralt approached you, hands reaching for yours as he gazed down at you, the warm feeling he so often in your presence felt bubbling up inside him once more. You wouldn’t meet his eyes, so he reached out and lifted your chin, admiring you the whole while.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, the corners of his lips turning up as you blushed once more. You fingers tightened on his before you let go, retreating back to your horse. Mounting, you settled yourself with your skirts hitched to your knees, ignoring the wolf whistle the bard let out at the sight. “Fuck off, I hate riding side saddle.”

Geralt grinned at that, before realizing what this meant. You were to be parted soon, sold off like property in order to further your kingdom’s advances. He understood your reasons, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. A silence fell over the group as Geralt followed your lead, remounting Roach before falling in behind you. 

As you rode up to the gates, Geralt watched your posture change. The laid back traveller was quickly replaced by the royal princess, back straightening as you held your head high. You no longer looked around to admire the sights, looking straight ahead as you ignored the merchants passing you on the road. You didn’t acknowledge the guards who stopped your progress, allowing Jaskier to announce you when they inquired. Your small group was quickly led to an antechamber, Geralt insisting that he wait with you in order to see the contract completed. 

As the door closed behind the soldier, your posture slumped, tears coming to your eyes. Geralt was quick to cross the room, kneeling in front of you as you collapsed into a chair, blinking up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying. He rested a hand on yours, intertwining your fingers as he squeezed, offering silent support. Jaskier did the same, perching himself on the arm of your chair, hand squeezing your shoulder to remind you he was there. 

You composed yourself as the door opened, standing to meet the page that entered. He bowed deeply before gesturing that you should follow him. You took a moment, straightening your back as you fussed with your dress before stepping forward, any hint of hesitation or reluctance gone from your posture. Geralt and Jaskier followed at your sides, a somber feeling overcoming the party. Jaskier looked close to being in tears, having gotten close to you over the journey. Geralt felt much the same, not wanting to let you go but understanding he had to.

His heart clenched as the double doors in front of their party opened, revealing the throne room to them. There were two people sat on the thrones perched on the dais, with a small group of people standing below. They turned at the sound of the doors

 The page announced “Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of Tairis” before bowing as you swept into the room. 

Geralt almost stumbled as he spotted the prince approaching you, a sharp feeling flaring in his chest before he shoved it down. Was that…. It couldn’t be. He was brought back to the present as you curtsied, holding your hand out to the prince to kiss as he bent over it. “Prince Raleigh, it’s so good to finally meet you,” you murmured, a fake smile pasted on your face.

The prince answered you, but Geralt didn’t hear it as the world halted around him, the prince’s name pulling a memory from deep within him. As he stared at the young man, he could see that the prince wasn’t happy with this arrangement either, he could smell the fear and reluctance wafting through the air. Hope bubbling up in his chest. Geralt waited as you completed your greetings before striding over to the prince, bowing in greeting.

“Geralt!” the man exclaimed, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “How are you? It’s been what, three years since I last saw you?”

“That is has been,” Geralt rumbled, pleased that the prince was still the happy young man underneath the layers of formality. “But if I may have a word with you, Prince Raleigh? Privately?”

“Of course, of course! Anything for you, my good Witcher,” the prince was quick to lead him to an office as he ignored the half-hearted protests from his staff. As he closed the door behind him, he turned to face Geralt, face dropping as he continued. “It’s felt like it's been longer than three years since we last saw each other, my friend. And as much as I am glad to see you again, our meeting is tainted by your contract. I wish you had just come to visit.”

Geralt’s eyebrows rose at the prince’s bluntness, struggling to keep the hope that flared in his chest from showing on his face. “Oh? You weren’t looking forward to meeting your betrothed?”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. The prince made a face at his question, leaning against the desk in the middle of the room as he crossed his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t aware that she was even my betrothed before yesterday. Apparently it was a deal our parents had made when we were young, and they ‘forgot’ to mention it to me.” The last sentence was accompanied by air quotes, the tone overly sarcastic.

The prince pushed off of the desk, walking over to gaze out the window as he continued. “I had hoped to court someone else, to have had the chance to explore, marry for love, maybe. She’s beautiful, she just makes my heart sing.” He glanced over at Geralt as the Witcher moved to join him. He grinned wryly, “But it was not to be, eh?”

“What if it was?” Raleigh shot Geralt a sharp look at his question. Turning fully to look at him, the prince narrowed eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you remember how we met, prince?” Geralt walked over to the desk, picking up a quill from the surface and toying with it. “How I saved your life?”

“Yes, and then when I asked what you wanted in return you said…” as he trailed off, Raleigh turned to look at the Witcher, realization dawning on his face as what Geralt was suggesting became apparent. ‘You would claim-” he cut himself off, not wanting to voice the hope that was slowly wafting through the room. 

Geralt nodded, keeping his gaze on the prince. “I would, I- I love her.”

The prince grinned at his admission, hope flaring in his eyes. “Well then, my dear Witcher, let’s go turn that fucking room on it’s head. Lead the way.”

Returning to the room, the two men found two groups of people waiting; the royals murmuring amongst themselves as Jaskier and Y/N waited on the other side of the room, sending anxious glances towards the office. The prince bounced over to the group, a brilliant smile on his face. His parents looked at him warily, the group dispersing as you and Jaskier made your way over to join them. The prince made a grand bow as he stopped in front of the king and queen, flourishing as he stood. “Mother, Father, Sir Geralt has something he would like to say.”

The Witcher stepped up beside the prince, meeting the royals’ gazes. In a low voice, Geralt spoke the line he had been angling for ever since he saw your betrothed. “I claim the Law of Surprise that Prince Raleigh owes me, in return for saving his life.”

He ignored the sharp inhale that came from the queen as she realized where he was going with this. “I claim that which the prince possesses but does not know: I claim Princess Y/N.”

As he spoke that damning sentence, he turned to you, watched the surprise flit over your face before you settled on hope, your eyes shining as you realized what he had done. As conversation burst out behind him, Prince Raleigh shouting over his parents to make himself heard, he only had eyes for you. His gaze roamed over your face, taking in all of the little details he hadn’t let himself notice since you had revealed your secret. He could see the tension draining out of your shoulders as he stepped closer to you, unshed tears shining in your brilliant eyes. He could smell your hope, your happiness drifting through the air towards him as you dared to allow yourself the thought that this may end up the way you wanted it to. 

As he took another step towards you, your expression broke as you rushed towards him, jumping into his arms as he pulled you against him, tangling his hand in your hair as his other wrapped around your waist, holding you to his chest. He looked down at you, saw the happiness shining in your gaze as you stared back before he lowered his head, capturing your lips with his as he swallowed your sigh. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he basked in your scent. 

Feeling a hand on his arm, Geralt opened his eyes and looked to the side to see Jaskier standing there, a huge grin on his face. You laughed quietly, reaching an arm out to tug the bard into the hug, clinging to both him and Geralt as he wrapped you in his arms, pulling the Witcher back in when he tried to pull away. The larger man grumbled under his breath but let himself be squished into the embrace. As silence fell, the three of you pulled away to see the rest of the people in the room staring at you. The king and his advisors all had impassive expressions while the queen and Prince Raleigh were looking at the three of you softly. 

The king opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by a hand on his arm. The queen smiled gently at him before turning her gaze to you. Geralt felt you shift nervously beneath his arm, could smell your anxiety as you waited for the answer to the Witcher’s claim. He could hear your heart racing, its rhythm picking up as the queen smiled, stepping forward as she gestured for you to do the same. She took your hands as you approached her, before pulling you in for a hug. Geralt could hear her whispered words, meant only for you. “I wish you all of the best, dear. As much as I wish you could join our family, I realize now that you’ve found your place in life.”

You let out a sob, gripping the woman tighter as you mumbled thank yous. She shushed you, running a hand down your back as she pulled away, smiling down at you, reaching up to brush the tears from your cheeks. She looked at Geralt, holding out a hand to him. The Witcher was quick to join her, placing his larger hand in hers. She smiled up at him, “Take care of her, she is a precious gift.”

“Of course,” he replied, taking your hand in his other, squeezing your fingers as he smiled down at you. You looked back, beaming up at him, adoration clear in your eyes.

The queen moved behind you two, placing her hands on your shoulders as she announced, “The Law of Surprise has been claimed! And I acknowledge it. Princess Y/N satisfies the Witcher Geralt’s claim, as destiny proclaims.”

Prince Raleigh cheered at his mother’s proclamation as Geralt tucked you back into him. The queen turned around in response to your questioning hand. “Would you- would it be possible for you to- my parents-” you stuttered, adoration filling Geralt’s heart as your royal demeanor fell away. 

“It’s no problem, child, what would you like?” The queen took your hand between both of hers, you calming at her touch. You took a deep breath, reaching up to pull the crown from your hair before handing it to her. Geralt felt like his heart might burst, understanding the silent symbolism of shedding your royal duties. 

“Of course, I will send this back to your parents and let them know what has come of you. Now go, child, enjoy your new life.” You relaxed at her words, at the finality of her taking your crown. You thanked her before turning back to Geralt, tugging on his hand as you left the throne room, leaving your old life behind. Jaskier quickly followed you, face breaking out into a brilliant grin as the three of you rode out of the gates. Your laughter filled the air, lifting Geralt’s heart at the sound. You left the castle, Geralt taking a moment to stop and ponder it. When they had entered earlier that day, silence and misery had been all that had accompanied; now that you were leaving with him, his soul felt lighter, heart happy as you took your rightful place by his side.

Later that night, Geralt watched you with a fond gaze as you gleefully burnt your dress, severing that last link to your life that you had. As you looked up, you met his gaze over the fire. Seeing the sheer happiness and joy that was on your face felt like the most important thing in the world to him, he wouldn’t have changed anything in the world. As you finished poking at the fabric, you came over to him, dropping a kiss on his hair as you sat down, tucking yourself under his arm. He pulled you closer to him, lacing his free hand with yours as he relaxed, leaning his chin on your head as he inhaled your scent. He felt comforted, happy, now that he had you with him. 

He settled further into the grass, pulling you down as he lay back. You let out a soft noise that sparked a warm heat in the middle of his chest, prompting him to roll onto his side, tugging you closer so that your legs tangled with his as you pressed your nose into his chest, relaxing into his warmth. He murmured soft nonsense into your hair as you drifted, going limbless against him. Geralt sighed as you babbled in your sleep, relaxing as he let himself drift off to sleep alongside you.

**~*~*~*~**

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[caffeinated--writer]

Geralt really be falling fast asleep right after sex 😩

I want to spoon this exhausted man so bad!

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[amber-michaelson]

Bratty Mood

geralt of rivia x reader

Summary:being the brat and getting the punishment you deserve

Read at own risk

Warning: swearing

geralt pov 

“don’t touch that” i muttered and grabbed the blade out yns hands “what i was gonna help you clean” she whined and walked and pouted next to me “darling i know you wanna help but these are dangerous” i warned and put it back on the table "then how can I help" she whined "go sit over there" I growled and pointed to the chair in the corner she whined walking over and grumpy sat on it "good girl" I smirked and went back to cleaning my weapons.

Yn pov

I waited and waited for geralt to finish or for something to happen, I blushed as he removed his shirt so he didn't dirty it "looking hot babe" I murmured teasingly "not as hot as you" he gave me a glance making him look hotter, I grew wet and became figaty "geralt" I whisper like a soft moan "not now princess" he warned not looking at me, I whimper to myself as I slowly slip my hand into my panties since I was only wear panties and one of geralt’s shirts, I slipped two of my fingers into my pussy and let out soft moans I don't want him to hear me because it was one of the rules I wasn't aloud to touch myself without his permission, i moaned thrusting my fingers in and out while using my thumb to massage my clit "geralt" I whimper a bit to loud my eyes widened I quickly look at geralt 'thank god he didn't hear me' I sign in relief looking up for a brief moment"having fun there princess" I squealed looking at him only for him to be two inches away from me "I'm sorry" I squeaked pulling my hand out and he grabbed it "naughty naughty" he shook his head bringing my hand up to his face and sucked on the fingers I used he knew I liked when he did it "you taste fantastic baby but you are in trouble" he growled "go to the room and strip" he commanded "bu-" "no buts 10" I scrambled to my feet "9" I ran to the bed room "8" I teared off my shirt and panties "7" I climbed onto the bed and spread my legs "6" I could hear his footsteps as he drew near he was taking longer to give me time "5" his voice gave the hall a soft echo "4,3,2" he lingered at the door "1" he growled lowly and stalked his way to the bed “good girl” he muttered and started pulling off his clothes piece by piece.

Geralt pov 

i watched as her body shivered “you were naughty” i growled “im sorry you were just to hot” she whispered her eyes pleading me to touch her “do you deserve me to touch you” i asked leaning to her “please i promise to be good just please help me” she begged slightly lifting her hips towards me “behave” i muttered eyeing her body “please geralt” she whimpered “ i *smack* said *smack* behave” i said slapping her but she whimpered “turn around” i growled she nodded and slowly turned around lifting her hips up “how many spanks should i give you” i murmured rubbing her ass “15″ she whispered “no how about 25″ i smirked “now count” i muttered "ok" she whispers.

Yn pov

I whined as he spanked me "one" "two"

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"25" I cried "good girl you did so well" he praised rubbing my ass “now what do you want for your reward” he asked leaning down to me “fill me up please” i whispered  he growled in acknowledgment and moved himself so he was behind me "please make me cum geralt" I whined pushing back into him "you know I will darling" he groaned and slipped inside I moaned as he got balls deep "ready" he asked checking in I nodded eagerly and pushed back "please fuck me" I begged he started thrusting hard and fast, every thrust making my hips jolt forward "fuck baby" he growled and grabbed my hips "you feel fucking amazing" he added I moaned at his praises and the pleasure he was giving me "do you want me to rub your clit" geralt murmured breathing heavily still keeping his rhythm I nodded wordlessly and arched my back as he started rubbing "geralt" I cried shaking in pleasure "are you getting closer baby" he growled "fuck yes please please let me cum" I pleaded "cum for me baby" he groaned and did one final thrust causing both of us to cum "how did that feel baby" he asked and slowly pulled out "thank you geralt that was amazing" I tiredly smiled "ill run us a bath and get you more clothes" he said and stood up "what about cuddles" I whined stretching my arms out to him "I promise in the bath" he said and blew me a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom 'how did I get so lucky'.

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[lilith-of-rivia]

Witcher Season 2 Thoughts ⚠️No spoilers⚠️

I watched the first two at 1 am.

First of all, episode one is *chefs kiss*, it's no secret that the story about Nivellen is told in episode one. But to avoid spoilers all I will say is beautifully executed. I watched it with my brother who isn't really a witcher fan but said he'd watch it with me. he was blown away too. the entire episode keeps your interest fully, makes you think, and is easy to follow. I loved it.

The rest of the season so far is just as good if not better. I am excited to watch the next two episodes. So please refrain from spoilers xx

Congratulations to Lauran and all the writers and directors for the amazingly executed visuals of season 2.

Congratulations to the amazing original cast and the way you have all grown with your characters and given everything to them.

Congratulations to the amazing list of new cast members who gave new life to the characters we will get to see more of I hope.

I was thoroughly impressed and enjoyed it very much so far.

Again this is just my first impression as I watched it on day 1. I will do more in-depth reviews of the episodes I love the most when the show has been out longer to avoid spoilers.

Let me know your thoughts, but please avoid major spoilers!!!

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[fucking-hell-cavill]

Story Help.

Hey guys I remember reading a Geralt x OC oneshot on here but my phone crashed before I could save please help me find it.

The female OC was a goddess and blacksmith, it was a nsfw oneshot.

I'm hoping the wonderful world of Cavill fans can help me.

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