#the witcher fluff

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speak."

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

"What makes you think that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

"They knew that there was a beast?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's outside the woods."

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will keep her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

[angelltheninth]

How does Geralt feel about neck kisses if you don’t mind?

How could I mind anything with Geralt?

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, hickies, possessive!Geralt, sweet!Geralt

A/N: I'm happy we got the new season but it's not gonna be the same anymore you know?

RECIEVEING

At first he wasn't sure about getting neck kisses from you. They felt a little too intimate when you gave them to him. And yes you just started your relationship but it took him a while to warm up to the idea of being kissed so softly after love making.

He did want it, but wanting it and having it actually happening to him left him scared of it. You'd always hear his breath hitch when your lips pressed against his neck, almost like he was expecting a bite to come next. Sometimes you did bite him but only if you were being cheeky with him.

GIVING

Very much the opposite when it comes to giving you neck kisses. He loves it because he knows it will make get you to rub your thighs together afterwards, even if he doesn't apply much pressure. It's your weak spot, or maybe you just love the idea of being vulnerable under his lips.

You're traveling around a lot so safe to say you both get a great deal of looks where ever you end up. You draw a lot of eyes in taverns as well so having you wearing his kisses on your neck so openly really makes him happy. Every time one fades he has to give you a new one.

#geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt headcanons #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher headcanon #geralt x female reader #the witcher x female reader #geralt fluff #the witcher fluff #x reader #x female reader

[cuddly-dean-baby]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Already done, out on the line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The scary Witcher going soft for his husband.”

“Shut up.”

Henry Cavill + Characters Tags @enchantedbytomandhenry

The Witcher Tags @justreadingficsdontmindme @chrisevansangel

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

[gummydummy19]

Not a man of many words

Summary: Geralt of Rivia isn't a man of many words, luckily words aren't what you need him for.

Content Warnings: smut, cockwarming in a bathtub (yes, IN A BATHTUB), biting, handjob, slights thigh riding/grinding, maybe a few curse words, kissing

A/N: I posted this a long time ago on my old account and I decided it was finally time to bring it back heheh

Word Count: 1500+

It was a quiet night. Soft yellow hues of candlelight surrounded you, as your mind slipped further and further away in the book you were reading.

The day had gone by quick, but it had been tiring nonetheless. You had sold a couple potions, some herbs, and a few flowers and plants too.

The smell of your homemade rosehip tea invaded your senses. You took pride in brewing your own teas and potions here and there. And the people in town paid you good money for your stuff.

You lived in a small village. The house wasn't the most spectacular but you thought it was absolutely perfect. Especially the garden.

You moved to take another sip as you were suddenly startled by a loud knock on your front door, almost making you spill the steaming hot beverage all over the slightly tanned pages of your book.

There was no need to be nervous, you knew exactly who was at the other side of that door. Even if you ever had any company other than him at this hour, you'd still recognize him from that harsh knock alone.

"Can I come in?" was all he asked, as soon as you opened the door and his golden gaze met yours. His voice was even deeper and raspier than you remembered.

He was covered in dirt, sweat and some dark crimson remains of what you guessed were dried blood.

You gave him a sweet look. To everyone else, he might look big and scary, but you could see beyond the broody exterior. And underneath and the blood and dirt and telltale of the emotionless best, you saw a kindhearted man in need of a place to stay.

How could you ever say no to that?

"Of course."

Taking a step back, you allowed the massive man to enter your home once again. No matter how long it had been, you always welcomed him just the same.

"Shall I draw a bath?" You asked. A question you both already knew the answer to.

All you heard was a rumbling "hmm" in agreement as he started dropping his things on your wooden floor and ridding himself of his garments.

You grinned, starting to fill the large tub in the middle of your bathroom with warm water and a mixture of bath salts and healing herbs. It looked more like a small, un-deep pool than anything else to be fair.

"Do you ever smile, Witcher?" you asked as you sat behind him, gently washing his muscular back.

"No." he grumbled, his usual frown still plastered on his forehead.

Slowly, you dragged a soaked piece of cloth over his enormous shoulders, when an idea popped into your head.

The scars that covered his wet skin glistened in the dimly lit room. They looked beautiful, just like any other part of him.

You felt his entire body tense when you pressed your soft lips on his skin. It made you giggle. You moved to kiss his back again, only this time the intimate gesture was followed by the feel of your teeth sinking into the damaged skin.

He hissed, glancing over his shoulder to meet your mischievous gaze.

You grinned at his annoyance, before sweetly soothing your fingers over the fading bite mark you had left.

Yet again, the Witcher stayed quiet. Turning his gaze forward again as he huffed out an aggravated breath.

"Grumpy old man," you whispered, propping your chin on his shoulder to leave a quick nibble on his ear.

Before he could shoot back a response, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, pressing your cheek flush against the bulging muscles of his back. You couldn't help but let out a satisfied hum at the feel of his hot skin against your face. This man radiated so much warmth that you were fairly sure if you'd filled the tub with cold water, it would have turned hot from his body heat alone.

Your hands slowly wandered his chest, following the trace of his chest hair all the way down his stomach. They dipped under the surface of the water, finding the treasure between his thighs. You gave him a small squeeze. Even though you couldn't see what was in your hands, you felt how big and needy he was for you. You hummed again. Relishing his warmth.

Intimate moments with Geralt were rare. Not because he wasn't capable of feeling like many people thought, but because he had a hard time expressing his emotions, being vulnerable, and letting people in. In all fairness, no one had ever cared enough about him to take the time. To dig deeper, tear down his walls.

Don't get it wrong, he knew how to fuck. No woman had ever been left unsatisfied by him. No, the fucking wasn't his problem. It was the soft and emotional stuff he had trouble with.

With your face still pressed tightly against his back, you could hear his heartbeat quickening in his chest as you slowly pumped the length of him. Lathering his back with soft kisses and nips. Occasionally grazing your teeth along his scars, nibbling on the sensitive skin until he was rock hard and throbbing in your hand. His rumbling groans vibrated against your cheek, traveling straight to your core.

Your movements were halted by Geralt's large hands wrapping around your wrists. A frown overtook your face, worried that you might have overdone it. But your worries were quickly put at ease as the large man turned around in your grasp, finally facing you and pressing his lips to yours.

It didn't take long for you to cling to him again, snaking your arms under his and wrapping them around his large torso as your legs did the same. You crawled into his lap, the water surrounding your worked in your favor as you half floated against him, linking your ankles around his waist.

Suppressing a chuckle, the Witcher finally spoke up. "Needy much?" he asked with a raised brow, looking down at the beauty that clung to his chest.

His comment didn't make you loosen up in the slightest, quite the opposite in fact. It just made you hold him even tighter, letting him know that you were in fact, needy for him.

"My god, woman! You're going to crack a rib if you hold me any tighter," he grumbled once more.

"Maybe then you'd finally stay a little longer," you mumbled quietly, but he still heard it. Moving his fingers to your face, he slowly lifted your chin up to meet his golden gaze.

A sudden shyness overtook you as you stared up at him, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck but he stopped you.

There was so much he wanted to say, but you both knew words weren't his strong suit. So he decided to show you instead.

Mimicking your earlier movements, he dipped his head to nibble on your ear, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands caressed your skin, everywhere they could reach. When his lips ghosted over your shoulder, he didn't hesitate to sink his fangs into the supple skin, earning a squeal from you.

"OW, you brute! That hurts!"

"Don't like the taste of your own medicine, Princess?" he asked as he kissed over the bruised flesh.

"I just like the taste of you." you breathed, hands wandering down again, eager to please both him and yourself.

Satisfied with the slight growl you got in response, you continued to pump his heavy length until he was throbbing in your grasp.

With his lips still hovering over the exposed skin of your neck, his hot breath left goosebumps in its wake. You were thoroughly soaked, and it wasn't just the deliciously warm water surrounding you. Slick covered your aching core, and you finally couldn't take it anymore.

"please..." you moaned as you ground yourself on his thigh, desperately trying to create some friction. "Geralt please, I need you. Need to feel you...please."

Well if he wasn't hard before, he certainly was now.

"Come here." was all he mumbled out before positioning you on top of his cock, pulling you down with ease, he slowly slid inside of you and you happily welcomed him.

You let out a sigh and he let out a groan, slowly sliding down his length until you were fully seated on him and you felt him, all of him, throbbing tightly inside of you.

Your eyes locked and there was a long beat of complete silence. The two of you just stayed like that for a while. Gazing in each others eyes, basking in warmth and unspoken adoration. The sweet smell of the bath salts lingered around, tangling with the faint scent of sweat.

You didn't dare to move, afraid to lose this intimate moment with him. But as you stared into his eyes, you were relieved to see a look of reassurance, telling you he didn't want to move either.

Geralt tipped his head slightly to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.

"hmm, I missed you." you sighed once he pulled away to take a breath. Your eyes fluttered open again and for the first time, you were greeted with a dopey smile.

"You do smile." You grinned at him.

"Only when I'm truly happy," he stated, and with that, he conquered the last piece of your heart, making you entirely his, 'til the end of time.

Taglist;

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@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

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@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

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@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #the witcher #the witcher smut #the witcher fluff #biting #teasing #bathing #henry cavill moodboard #henry cavill fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction

[thewritersaddictions]

Request: The Witcher: Geralt Of Rivia- Brutal Life

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Wolf!Reader

Pov: Geralt

Warnings: Kissing, injured reader, fake monster sighting, camping, jaskier being his normal self, lone wolf, romance, fluff, dreaming.

Summary: A hurt wolf is marked as a monster so Jaskier and Geralt go to investigate. Geralt knows something is off though so he tries to be helpful.

WC- 2.0k

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers; Remember that Geralt of Rivia here on my page will continue to be written as if Henry Cavill is playing his character.

The Witcher Master List // Requests Master List

There was commotion going on just outside of the small town that we were staying in. Damn people and there need to intreput my dinner time. Jaskier was already apart of the drama happening outside. He came running back into the bar. “Jaskier what is it now?” A roll of my eyes gave tell to that small fact that I didn’t care or want to go outside to deal with commotion going on. 

“Geralt you just have to help these people. You’re the witcher for fucks sake.” Jaskier wasn’t kidding. He was dragging me or at least trying to drag me towards the door of the bar. “Jaskier would you stop it already.” I mumbled out. “I’m coming alright, are you happy now.” Just outside the door the dark and loud rumbles of a growl could be heard. My interest was peaked to say the least as people ‘ohh’ and ‘awwd’ at whatever monster they had decided stupidly to surround. 

By the time we got outside there was more then a gaggle of people surrounded it. Forcing it down into a tiny closed circle. “Oh the great Geralt Of Rivia here to save the day as always.’ A cocky old gente. I ignored him as I did with truly everybody in my life. “What seems to be the problem here?” I asked loudly into the crowd of people that was steadily growing. 

The ‘monster’ was ovibouly not that scary, or dangerous as the crowd drew louder and crazier with every passing second. The rambles of talking and screaming, and everything else that humans are so great at doing. The smallest of whimper I heard in the crowd of people. “Can angbody get their heads out of their asses and tell me what the fuck is going on.” I asked loudly, my voice moving through the crowd. 

A little girl is the one that answered me. Her voice was squeaky, and high pitched but she came forward. “Witcher it’s just a pour lonesome wolf, her leg is injured a little. She’s a whimpering mess over here.” The little girl said. I was impressed, but then the immediate stress of the world came crashing down on me. If that was so not a true monster then I wasn’t needed here, but the whimpers were so damn hard to ignore. 

“Alright gents and gals it’s time to get your noses into something else that isn’t this clear none monster.” My voice boomed loudly across the field. Their were sighs, and disappointing words flying in through the sky. The growling started as soon as the crowd cleared the field and I got closer. The closer I got the more protective the wolf seemed to get. Jaskier as always was whining behind me. “Geralt let’s just go if you say it’s just some wolf then theres no need to sit around and wait for it to bite on of us.” Jaskier blabbled out. There were many times I wished that I had told Jaskier to shut up, but going to do a task was better for me right now. 

“Why don’t you go gather our things from the bar, and Roach. I’m staying here to help this little one out.” I looked over my shoulder at Jaskier. There was an odd look on his face, then a shrug of his shoulders before he left the two of us in the field. The growled hadn’t stopped not even when I was talking to Jaskier.

 I turned my attention back to the wolf on the ground a growling and whimpering mess. I reached one of my hands out, “Y/n is that you?” The words pouring softly. Even strange to my ears. Her eyes were so damn familiar, and I hadn’t seen her in years… more then years. It felt like decades had passed. The last time I had seen her was when we were young children. Playing and before the world had separated us. The hand that I had reached out was getting closer and closer to being bite. 

“How about we try something different huh?” I suggested, she growled lowly, and kept her eyes on me the entire time. “How about if you want help you just have to follow us.” I wasn’t one for having tag alongs but Jaskier had broken that record, and the wolf well if she was Y/n then there was nothing I would do to help her. Jaskier returned everything in his hands. A small huff of frustration falling from his lips. ‘Are you fucking insane Geralt, I can’t go around having people think I’m just your servant.” With that Jaskier dropped every single one of the bag interlocked in his arms and fingers. I rolled my eyes and walked away from the wolf towards Roach. 

Petting her muzzle and then her mane. I turned and gave Y/n a knowing wink before walking towards the bleak basically dead treeline. Winter was on its way and the further we got away from the cold the happier that Jaskier would be. I kept an eye behind us as we travelled. Jaskier walking beside Roach, I kepther on the right track. “Who’s following us?” Jaskier prayed. I looked down at Jaskier. I wondered for how long had he been standing behind me, while I was talking to Y/n. “Nobody.” I clarified, as I got Roach back on the right path. 

By the time that night fell on the sky, and treeline disappeared behind the dark sky I knew it was time that we stop. The last tiem I had seen Y/n walking behind us was before the sun set, and I was purposely walking Roach slower then normal for Y/n to keep up with us. Yet another thing that Jaskier commented on. “Why are you walking Roach so slow? Is she sick? You aren’t going to put her down if she’s sick are you? I’ll kill you if you do.” Jaskier rambled on, and with that the first question was forgotten behind Jaskiers concern for the well being of the horse.

The moon was high in the sky when we finally managed to settle in the small camp that we had… that I had made for the two of us. I could Y/n far in the distance, close enough to the heat. Far enough away from being caught, or taunted by either on of us. A fire burning that crackled with each burn of leaf and stick. The most scariest thing for Jaskier was the wolf, she had come to camp. A limp in her walk and still forever staying far away. A full moon had just passed and so from what little knowledge I had on wolves I assumed she would be changing form tonight in the darkest of night. 

The wolf had decided that when of course she was comfortable she would join the camp. Jaskier being the scared little puppy he always was about everything wasn’t having it, and retreated to his sleeper. I tired my hardest not to laugh as Jaskier hurried away underneath the sheets of his cot. “If you feel comfortable, my lap is open for you to sit.” I muttered towards Y/n. Her ears peaked up, as she gave me a weary look. The truest of black eyes staring me down as I wondered what might happen. The growls had stopped, and the whimpers had began as Y/n walked on her paw. Small winces could be seen down her snout and with the curve of her brows underneath the prettiest fur I’d ever seen. 

I waited for what seemed like a few moments. Time passed and the fire crackled against the dark sky, I waited until I felt the softest of nudge on my hand. When I did look down it was Y/n, her paw was placed gently on my hand almost bracing herself on me. Her eyes watched me with intent, keeping everything in a close enough gaze. “Y/n just lay down I promise I wont hurt you.” She took only a few seconds before making the quick choice and snuggling into my lap. 

Warmth from her fur exploded into my clothing and skin. I wasn’t about tp pet her, but the closeness was enough for me. It had been so long that I hadn’t even thought of Y/n, but seeing her like this stuck in this form and hurt. My mind raced as I thought of what a cruel human being could have done this. The question popped into my head. Looking down at the curled up wolf in my lap her head rest on my thigh. “Who did this to you Y/n? You must tell me.” Gently the words flowed out soft around the edges and waiting for a response. 

She just looked up and then nuzzled her nose into my thigh. A wet imprint from her nose stained my trousers, and I wondered if she’s ever tell. If she’d ever get the chance to the mutter the name of the horrible, vile, straight up disgusting human had hurt her this way. I moved ever so slightly and took Y/n with me as I lowered myself into the cot. “For now we will sleep and tomorrow you will tell me who hurt you. We have much to discuss Y/n.” I whispered into the cold winters air. 

I dreamt that night for the first time in a long time. A small boy chasing a beautiful young girl. Her hair flowing in the wind before her mother had told her to cut it all off, or rather before the girl had taken a pair of shears to her hair and chopped it off at all sorts of angles uneven with each other. 

I watched as she grew into a beautiful women. With piercing eyes, and a beautiful smile that made me melt in the knees. The only women to ever bring me to my knees was Y/n, the girl that hadn’t thought about in such a long time. Even has I slept the smell of Y/n whafted into my nose. Dirty, blood, but a hint of rose, and lavendar. Calm was everything that Y/n was, she was peace next to me. 

In my dreams I saw a her standing there waiting for me, open arms and the widest smile on her face. Kind eyes that made you fell safe, I ran and ran as fast as my feet would let me. I wanted to feel the warmth of her body, the warmth of her heart pressed up against mine. When I reached her the batted breathe I let out felt like thousands of pounds being lifted off my shoulders. 

She was the one to kiss me. Y/n lips felt so soft, not chapped and cut like mine due to the work I did. Her hand coming to rest comfortalbing in my hair as she tug and pulled me close. No fighting for dominance within the kiss or teeth scrapping against each other. We weren’t haste for time, so we took it for what it was. A peaceful, calm, deep, and loving kiss. The first of many and the best for a first. I wished that I didn’t need air, and Y/n was all that I needed in order ot survive. Y/n was my life line. In her arms I feared nothing and wanted nothing more then to be there in that moment forever with her. 

A brutal life was one of waking up with her gone. Nothing was left behind as a guide of hope, just as she was here she had gone. As luck would have it for me I hope, Y/n might just come back into my life. “She went into the woods. If you move your ass you can catch up to her.” Jaskier yawned. “By the way she stole your coat. I think she might have shifted last night.” Jaskier mentioned, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and hopped up. In search for maybe just the right person for me.

Completed on: 03/07/23

Posted on: 03/17/23

The Hero's-

#geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt of rivera #geralt of river x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia fanfiction #the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #geralt of rivia #jaskier #fluff #the witcher fluff #geralt of rivia fluff #requested #requests #request #request answered

[whitewingsh]

Soooo since The Witcher season 3 is coming out pretty soon I really hope for some more content on writing..the writing side if you know what I mean. Because yes, I see a lot, but with my consuming skills it is not enough.

So once again bc my blog is mostly just begging for writers I do it once again.

Please my dear, amazing, beautiful, unique, fabulous writers please do it once again and feed me with your amazing content.

#the witcher #fanfic #the witcher geralt #geralt fluff #geralt smut #geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #the witcher yennefer #writers on tumblr #please im starving #im on my knees #geralt fanfic #the witcher fluff #Wwings #Wwings begging #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #alive fandom

[tears-and-smiles-ao3]

The real treasure

Geraskier, Geralt and family, rated M for implied references to chastity, implied/referenced sex but basically family feels

"Oh, come on, Geralt, it'll be fun," Jaskier pleads, all doe eyes as he waves a hand-drawn treasure map around in the air.

Geralt watches him from his seat on the sofa and purposefully ignores what his lover is saying.

Instead, he takes in the outfit Jaskier has chosen to wear. His white frilly shirt is left partially open, showing off his gorgeous chest hair. His open burgundy waistcoat drapes down just inches from where Geralt knows his sensitive nipples lie.

The gold chain Jaskier always wears glistens in the morning light shining through the curtains of their apartment as he stalks over to him. His prowling also shows off how tight his striped pants are, clinging in just the right way to his legs.

When Jaskier marches over and stands before him, Geralt can’t resist raising an eyebrow.

"That's not how you convince me,” he insists, even as Jaskier sits down on his lap. Sighing, Geralt presses pause on his game and sets down the controller in the empty space by his left.

He turns back to Jaskier, giving him his whole attention as the world zeroes in on the pleasant weight of his lover on his thighs.

"Look, you'll love it. You might even get an extra reward," Jaskier encourages, waggling his eyebrows.

"Hmm, and yet we could just skip straight to that part," Geralt suggests, gripping tight onto Jaskier's hips and pulling him flush against him.

Jaskier groans, responding by grinding down for a moment, but then seems to remember his goal. He tuts, putting a hand against Geralt’s chest and pushing himself back to create space between them.

"No sex unless you find all four keys,” he chastises.

He's pouting, and Geralt wants to curse himself with how easily Jaskier can wrap him around his fingers.

"Fine,” he sighs again, “but give me a kiss before you send me on my quest, my prince."

“I’m not a prince, I’m a pirate.”

Despite Geralt getting it wrong, Jaskier smiles, beaming like the sun. His cheeks glow and his eyes gleam. He's magnificent, breathtaking.

His lover leans down, forcing Geralt to lie his head against the back of the sofa. Jaskier’s arms bracket each side and Geralt lets out a soft gasp. He’s being teased and he loves it.

At an achingly slow pace, Jaskier moves towards him. Geralt feels like he can't breathe as inch by inch Jaskier's lips get closer.

The world around them disappears as Jaskier presses his lips against his. They move slowly, building in intensity, and Geralt tries to keep still, warring with his desire to lift Jaskier up and carry him to bed.

Patience. He needs to be patient.

Instead he focuses on the way Jaskier tastes sweet like an apple as he licks inside his mouth.

Geralt growls and Jaskier chuckles in that way he does. It’s so intoxicating and Geralt doesn’t want this to end. When Jaskier pulls back, his mouth tries to follow that delicious taste.

“Uh, uh,” his lover reprimands, picking up the map once again. “You take this, look over it, and then wait 10 minutes for me to get a head start. When you find me, you can have me.”

Geralt whines a little, and Jaskier laughs again.

“Just look at it. Get into the spirit. Oh, and you might want to get changed out of your sweats.”

“Fine,” Geralt grumbles. The quicker they get this over with, the quicker he gets what he wants.

Trust Jaskier to use the promise of sex to get him to behave. He must be so predictable.

Sighing, he looks down at the piece of paper. Jaskier had spent many hours last night drawing it. Geralt thought he’d looked so cute with his tongue sticking out as he worked that he’d tried to kiss Jaskier but his lover swatted at him till he left him alone.

It seems these squiggles are the result, and Geralt’s eyes dart up and down as he tries to figure it out.

A dotted line meanders through a town map. It connects various things: a round plump green hairy berry, a white goat, a black cat and a castle on a mountain. Scratching his head, Geralt stares at the map for longer than he would ever admit.

Then suddenly, his eyes widen and he realises. Scrambling up out of his seat, he rushes to change into black jeans and a tight-fitting top. Then he grabs his jacket and keys, letting the front door slam shut behind him.

Yennefer’s eyes crinkle as she opens the door, watching Geralt barge in without so much as a hello.

“What am I meant to pick up from here?” he demands, already marching towards the sofa and plucking up cushions, tossing them on the floor.

“Geralt, I won’t have you making a mess because you’re annoyed at Jaskier’s game.”

He whips around like a bullet, and sees how she’s standing, one clenched fist leaning against the doorframe and with a sharp look in her eye.

“Fine,” he grumbles, not for the first time today. “But please put me out of my misery.”

“I know for a fact I am your first stop. You’re just tetchy. Stop it.”

Sighing, he lets his shoulder drop. He’s not going to get the answer from Yennefer by demanding it.

He bends over and picks up the cushions, settling them down on the sofa randomly. He’ll never get them into the right order, so why bother.

Yennefer must know he’s at least making an effort because she nods and then jerks her head toward the kitchen.

He pads behind her, like a dog with its tail between his legs. Her purple dress trails across the floor.

She walks up to the teas and busies herself, scooping out several spoonfuls of chopped green leaves into a teapot, then fills it with water.

She sets it on the stove, then turns around and rummages in a cupboard till she finds two matching cups and saucers.

Yennefer always did like being fancy. Adding to the ambience, or whatever she claimed.

“So,” she begins, “how are things?”

He shrugs. “Fine. Same as always.”

“Does Jaskier always send you off on treasure hunts?”

Grunting, Geralt decides he’s not going to answer that. Silence really is the better option most of the time.

The water must reach the desired temperature, because Yennefer wraps a towel around its handle and lifts it off the stove and onto a wooden tray.

“I’ve missed our chats,” Yennefer remarks, rearranging the cups even though there is no need to do it.

Geralt really doesn’t have time for this nonsense, but what else can he do? Stand here and think about how he’s going to pin Jaskier down as soon as he catches him?

It seems mildly inappropriate in front of his ex.

“You know, I was surprised that I’m your first visit, but maybe Jaskier likes toying with you as much as I do. You’re hilarious when you’re angry.”

“Am not,” Geralt huffs, folding his arms for a second, then realising just how it makes him look.

Jaskier is always teasing him for being stubborn. Damn him, he knows him too well.

“Well, maybe not,” Yennefer concedes. “Doesn’t matter why you’re here, I’m just glad to see you.”

She pours tea into both cups, then hands him one.

It smells bitter, acrid, but he’s drunk worse. He takes a few sips to be polite, then sets it down.

He really just wants to get the key and leave.

Just what is Jaskier playing at?

His skin is itching and he needs to move, so he begins pacing.

“I really thought we’d at least stay in touch more,” Yennefer admits.

“What?”

“It wasn’t all that bad, you know. And Jaskier still talks to me.”

He does? Geralt scrunches up his face, trying to figure out why.

“Oh, don’t be an idiot, Geralt. We’re not here bitching about you.”

He grunts, then sits down at the kitchen island. On it is a fruit bowl filled with apples and pears and he picks one up.

“What was the symbol drawn over my house again, Geralt?”

Huh? Geralt looks up at Yennefer and is about to shrug, then a thought hits him.

Gooseberries. They’re a fruit. This is a fruit bowl.

He drags the bowl towards him and immediately begins rummaging through the apples and pears.

He empties the full thing and, sure enough, there’s a small silver key lying at the bottom.

“Yen, what’s this?” he asks.

She turns, cup in hand, and smiles.

“Never could keep things hidden from you.”

He picks it up, turning it around between his finger and thumb.

Is it really that easy?

He looks at her for all of two seconds, then rushes out the room and towards the front door.

“Come visit again,” Yennefer yells after him.

Eskel is in his garage, rustling through his toolbox while Lil’ Bleater gripes at him. The tiny goat is wearing a small woollen pink sweater and jumps menacingly at the floor.

“Just let me find my hammer, Bleater, and we’ll get out and fix that fence together, alright.”

He’s wearing his red sweater and denim overalls, undone at the top so the straps hang around his waist. A screwdriver hangs out his pocket.

“And just where do I find the key Jaskier has hidden here?” Geralt asks, announcing his presence.

Eskel jumps at his voice, hitting his knuckles against the metal box with a clang.

“Fuck,” he swears, hissing as he pulls his hand out and sticks it under his other arm, putting pressure on it. “That really hurt, dickhead.”

Geralt coughs to cover a laugh, looking down at the floor as the tiny goat scrambles over to him on shaky legs, screaming loudly.

“She thinks you’re a dickhead, too.”

“Oh, I definitely am most of the time,” Geralt admits, looking up to see Eskel grinning at him.

He walks over to his brother and pulls him into a large hug. It had been a while since he’s visited, and he’d forgotten how nice it is just to be here with him.

“You should visit more,” Eskel chastises, as if reading his mind.

“I know,” Geralt agrees.

They’re about to pull back from each other when something small but strong bashes against their legs.

“Hey,” Eskel greets, reaching down and petting the little goat. “Let’s get you outside.”

It’s then that Geralt sees it. A small silver key hanging off of Lil’ Bleater’s collar.

“Jaskier, you cruel genius,” he states as he bends over and attempts to grab the key.

Lil’ Bleater has other ideas though, as she runs off, scampering towards the grass outside.

Laughing, Eskel claps Geralt on the shoulder.

“It was my idea. Bleater here needs exercise and you’ll do a fine job chasing her.”

Geralt glares at him, but can’t help the small smirk at the side of his lips.

“You’re welcome,” Eskel says, following his excitable pet out into the sun.

It takes almost an hour for Geralt to finally catch the damned goat, but she seems much happier with him now that she’s exhausted.

Eskel had fixed the fence ages ago and had watched his brother look like an idiot as he chased the small creature across the field.

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve had yet,” Eskel says, walking over to help Geralt get up. “Fancy a drink before you go?”

“Okay, yeah,” Geralt agrees, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Another hour later, Geralt is knocking on the door to Lambert and Aiden’s apartment.

He’s feeling much less keyed up now that he’s had a couple of beers. Perhaps that’s for the best.

Lambert could always antagonise him like no one else could.

Did Jaskier really plan out who to visit when, or is this just a coincidence?

He didn’t get to ponder it further because then the door opens and sees the blonde haired lover of his younger brother.

Aiden smiles, standing in the doorway in his blue shirt and pants, and waits for Geralt to say something.

“Hi, Aiden, can I come in?” Geralt asks.

He doesn’t know why Aiden makes him feel like a meek lamb. Is it the way he stands, arms gripping onto the doorframe? Maybe it’s his eyes that dart back and forth like he’s about to pounce?

Aiden smiles wider and Geralt sees those sharp fangs gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Sure,” he agrees, moving enough out of the way for Geralt to pass.

That’s when he notices a silver key hanging around Aiden’s neck, sitting on top of the golden one he’s always got there.

Geralt has never asked about that other key. He’d rather not get the answer he suspects it is.

Aiden smirks, and, fuck, Jaskier is going to pay for this later.

Probably in ways that he’d enjoy.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter because suddenly he’s walking into the main room and he sees Lambert on his hands and knees cleaning out the fireplace.

“Who was at the door?” his brother asks, still sweeping up burnt ash with a brush.

Geralt clears his throat, and Lambert flinches, turning around.

The pink apron he wears on top of his black t-shirt and slacks makes Geralt splutter, and Lambert scowls at him.

“Hey, asshole. Pretty boy going to help or just mock?”

“Now, darling,” Aiden intercedes before Geralt gets a chance to reply, “we don’t talk to guests in that way.”

For a second, Lambert looks like he isn’t going to back down, but then he sags and stands up, taking off his apron.

“Just going to wash my hands,” he explains as he walks out the room.

“Make sure to bring some scones back, darling,” Aiden calls out into the hall. Geralt doesn’t hear a reply, and Aiden doesn’t seem to care. He turns to Geralt and gestures towards one of two sofas.

Sitting down tentatively, Geralt drums his fingers against his leg while they wait.

Aiden lounges across the other sofa, with a smug look on his face, and folds one leg over the other.

It’s a tense five minutes until Lambert comes back into the room carrying a large tray packed full of scones, cream and jam.

“You didn’t need to,” Geralt begins to say, but Aiden interrupts him.

“Nonsense. This is our afternoon treat. We just assumed you’d be a bit later, is all.”

“What can I say, I always aim to disappoint.”

Lambert laughs at that. “Pretty boy’s got brains, it seems.”

“Tenacity,” Geralt corrects. He’s managed to get himself out of many a scrape in his time, but he wouldn’t call that anything other than street smarts.

“Modest, too,” Aiden chuckles as Lambert hands him a china plate. The scone on it is cut in two, piled high with jam and cream.

His brother hands him a similar plate, then settles down by Aiden’s feet and balances the last plate on his thigh.

The two of them start eating, and Geralt follows suit. All is quiet for a while, until Aiden breaks the silence, standing up.

“You can have the key, you know, after you and Lambert have a nice chat. That’s the deal. Keep your claws retracted.

Aiden gives Geralt a wink before he walks out the door, and then it’s just the two of them.

“Funny it takes our partners working in secret to get us together,” Lambert moans.

Geralt hums, then remembers Jaskier lecturing him about using his words.

Fuck, okay.

“How are you doing?” he asks his brother.

“Fine,” Lambert retorts. “You?”

“Alright, overall. Though this isn’t how I envisioned spending my day.”

“Because you hate visiting family?”

“Because I thought this hunt would involve a lot more running around than chatting.”

“Hmmm. You’ve given me a welcome reprieve from cleaning that, anyway,” Lambert says, pointing at the fireplace.

“Is the pink apron mandatory?” Geralt asks before he can stop himself.

“Hey, I like the colour,” Lambert exclaims, his face flaming.

Geralt shifts in his seat.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not a great conversationalist.”

“Well, how about this? You finish clearing out the fireplace and I’ll consider our chat completed.”

Lambert throws the pink apron at Geralt, who catches it and frowns.

“You’d really rather I clean instead of talking?”

Lambert growls, showing his teeth.

“Okay, okay, fine.”

An hour later, Aiden comes back into the room and the fireplace is sparkling.

“Well, that wasn’t too hard,” Aiden comments, holding out the small silver key towards him.

Geralt nods, taking the key and pocketing it.

“I’ll come back another time,” he says, nodding at Lambert before turning to walk out the room.

“I look forward to it, pretty boy,” Lambert teases, and Geralt laughs.

Some things would never change.

It’s been ages since he’d visited his foster dad’s place.

The castle, as Vesemir calls it, is an isolated shack at the base of a large hill. He likes to joke that his home is only for the hardy.

Even if Geralt can understand the desire to carve out his own space like this, it must be lonely sometimes.

His dad is at the door waiting on him, dressed in his usual brown sweater and blue jeans. He could never understand how Vesemir did it. Most people complained that Geralt always sneaked up on them, but his dad always knew when he’s nearby.

“Hello, son. It’s been a while,” Vesemir greets, opening his arms for a hug.

It feels nice, a comfort Geralt had forgotten about.

“I’m sorry,” he says into his dad’s shoulder.

“It’s fine. Not like I’ve been knocking down your door.”

Humming, Geralt lets his father release him of his guilt.

Vesemir pulls back and then nods towards the back yard.

“Come on,” he encourages, “We’ve got wood to chop.”

They both walk around the house, trailing a well worn path through the grass.

Out back, there’s a shed filled with branches and short logs, all ready to be chopped up into firewood.

Geralt heads towards it and grabs a few logs in his arms. He drops them beside the chopping block while Vesemir sits down and pulls out a hip flask.

“Want some?” he asks.

Geralt shakes his head. It’s been a long time since he’s chopped logs and he’s already had some alcohol, though the buzz has long since worn off.

It’s easy work and he gets into a steady rhythm, working through his pile quicker than he expects. He decides to collect a few handfuls so he can keep going for longer without stopping.

The sun is much lower in the sky by the time he finishes, and it leaves long shadows across the backyard.

He piles the last of the firewood into a basket, then rolls his shoulders to ease his aching muscles. He picks up the basket and takes it indoors, dropping it beside the fireplace.

“Thanks, son,” Vesemir says. He moves over to start working on a fire, but Geralt just chases him away.

“I’ll do that,” he states.

Vesemir raises his hands in defeat.

“Fine, fine. I’m going to get another drink. Will you have one with me?”

It’s getting late, but Geralt’s heart aches at the thought of leaving his dad all alone. How could he have put off visiting him for almost a year?

He gets the fire going quickly enough, and then he settles himself down in the chair beside his dad.

“How are things, son?”

“Good,” Geralt answers truthfully, twiddling the glass in his hands. “How’s you?”

“I’m doing alright. I love this place,” he states, gesturing around the room, “but it gets kinda too quiet after a while.”

“Yeah.”

“And life with Jaskier? Have you two made any plans for the future?”

“Marriage? No. No, we haven’t discussed it.”

“You don’t have to, you know. It’s enough to just be together.” Vesemir says quietly, looking down at his drink.

Just how lonely is he?

“Would you like a companion?” Geralt asks.

“Sometimes,” Vesemir admits. “But it’s okay when you boys come round.”

Geralt nods, feeling that pang of guilt in his stomach again. He finishes his drink in one last mouthful.

He’s about to get going when he remembers he’s supposed to find a key.

“Do you know where Jaskier…” Geralt starts asking, only for Vesemir to finish.

“Hid the key? Yes. It’s over on the table.”

“Thanks.” He gets up and clears away his glass, then pours his dad another large measure before he leaves.

“I promise to visit more often,” he vows.

“Next time bring Jaskier. He’s a breath of fresh air.”

Geralt nods, then puts his hand on his dad’s shoulder, squeezes once, then heads out the door.

It’s only when Geralt gets home that he realises he doesn’t know if this is where Jaskier wanted him to go.

He cracks open the door and sees there’s a single light on in their bedroom.

It’s late now, and Geralt has to stifle a yawn as he shuts the front door.

Sneaking across the creaky floorboards is easy. The door to their bedroom is ajar, and he peeks inside and sees the most adorable sight.

Jaskier is lying passed out across the bed covers, his breathing soft and even. He’s wearing bright yellow pyjama bottoms, nothing else, and his brown hair is all mussed up.

Geralt feels tired from his long day out, so he creeps in and undresses. He places the four keys down on the bedside table, then frowns at them.

What’s the point in all this if there is nothing to unlock?

It’s too late to think about it. Instead, he turns around and slowly rearranges Jaskier till he can get into bed with him.

He wraps his arm around him, snuggling his chin into Jaskier’s neck, and lets himself drift off to sleep.

In the morning, Geralt wakes to Jaskier placing kisses across his face.

“Hello, beautiful,” his lover greets, a sly smile on his lips. “Did you enjoy your treasure hunt?”

Geralt looks up at him, trying to get his brain to work. “I got the keys, but there was nothing to open.”

“Wasn’t there? Oh, well. I’ll just need to take back these restraints I bought.”

His eyes widen instantly, and then he grabs onto Jaskier and flips them.

“Hmmm, I’m going to enjoy this. But before you ravish me, did you have a good time yesterday?”

Geralt nods. It was nice seeing his family again. Even Yennefer had been pleasant enough to him.

“Good. That was the plan.”

Groaning, Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hands and holds them above his head. He leans down and kisses him hard.

His little minx is going to be thoroughly taken apart.

Witcher fic masterlist

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #witcher eskel #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #vesemir #for some reason not ciri and i've only just realised that #perhaps she is still with calanthe #the witcher fanfiction #geralt fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fluff #tears-and-smiles-ao3 #my fanfiction #cw: implied chastity #cw: implied sex

[writethrough]

Oh my gosh you're writing a Geralt fic? 😍 I must know more about it!

Hmmm...What to tell you...

Well, I started writing it after I finished watching season 1 (all the way back in the year that shall not be named).

And, I guess, the best line to describe it would be the first one of the synopsis:

"Follow the story of the mage cursed to find her soulmate, but never know their love."

I envision it being a multi-part fic, maybe 8-10, but not like a seamless story. Maybe one part takes place at this time, then the next is a few days/weeks later.

But I will say that Reader and Yenn are definitely gonna be friends! She's too cool of a character.

I need to watch seasons 2 and 3, though. I think that will give me the inspiration to finish the fic. I have roughly seven parts right now, but they're really scattered. Basically, I have the beginning and ending, but the middle is up-in-the-air.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia fluff #the witcher #the Witcher fluff #the Witcher angst #geralt angst #geralt fluff

[quickficss]

Tongue-Tied

A fic about my headcanon that Lambert has a stutter when he’s feeling emotional. 5 times he stuttered because he was upset plus 1 time he suttered because he was happy. 

3016 words read on AO3.

edit: I based Lambert’s stuttering on my own. If it seems unrealistic its because I simplified it so that people would be able to understand (and also because writing a stutter is surprisingly hard and I haven’t written a stutter before). Hopefully it’ll get better as I write more. Thanks to the anon who brought it to my attention :)

1.

The walls of the keep hardly contained the warmth of the fire, so late in the winter. The other boys were coming back from training. With blue and brown and green eyes, they hadn’t yet undergone the mutations the older trainees had. They knew only three out of ten of them would survive, so they used the little free time they had trying to forget their fate.

“Who wants to play hide and seek?” one boy asked, with blond hair and brown eyes.

“Who will be the seekers?” another boy, with red hair and a scar on his cheek responded.

“Old Vesemir, obviously.” The first boy rolled his eyes with a chuckle.  “We have his class next, don’t we? Let's see who can avoid him the longest.”

“Can I play too?” A voice from the back asked, causing the group to turn and look at the owner. The youngest boy in the group with raven black hair and hazel eyes, no more than five years old. His chest was puffed out, but the crooked smile betrayed his confident persona. The blond-haired boy laughed, leaning down threateningly.

“Get lost, pipsqueak. Only big, strong boys can play with us. You and your s-s-s-stuttering will give us all away.” He mocked, earning a chorus of laughter from the other boys.

“Y-Y-You’re an asshole, Malik!” The raven hair boy shouted.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you from all the way down there” the boy known as Malik put a hand to his ear with a shit-eating grin. “C’mon Lambert, s-s-s-s-s-speak up!” He mocked again.

Lambert’s face turned a deep shade of red, and with a shout, he balled his hands into a fist and tried to punch Malik as hard as he could. Predicting what the young boy would do, Malik caught his fist and punched him square in the nose, causing him to fall to the floor. Lambert brought a hand to his face, pulling it away when he felt a warm and sticky liquid running from his nose. blood. He staggered to his feet slowly before running back to the boy in another attempt to fight. His fist bounced off Malik's chest, causing all who witnessed to roar with laughter again.

“You know what I think boys? I think we should teach the little lamb how to fight.” cruelty dripped from the blond boy’s words, a smirk growing from the corners of his lips. Two other boys grabbed Lambert by the arms, holding him in place as the rest kicked and punched him until his entire body was sore. about a minute or two had passed before the sounds of two sets of feet came closer and closer.

“Shit!” the redhead yelped. “It’s Vesemir! Scatter!”

The boys who were holding Lambert up suddenly dropped him as they all ran in different directions.

“Fucking brats.” The fencing teacher's voice echoed off the walls, making its way to Lambert’s ears. Trying to push himself back to his feet, he could feel a ball form in his throat as tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Eskel,” He heard Vesemir start, “get this pup back to his bed, he can train with me later today. No point in trying to teach someone who can’t stand.”

A hand was gently placed on Lambert’s back, followed by a baritone voice. “C’mon kid. Let’s go get you some rest.”

The young boy looked up, lip trembling. The boy, Eskel, was a couple of years older than him, about ten to twelve. His eyes proved he had already gone through the mutations and was well on his way to going on the path on his own for the first time.

Lambert whimpered and tried to push the older boy away. “I-I-I-I don’t n-n-need your help.”

Eskel chuckled before helping Lambert to his feet. On his way to the room he shared with the rest of the boys that haven’t gone through mutations yet, Eskel was quiet. The room was empty when they got there. Lambert pushed himself away from the older boy and quickly made his way to the bed, diving under the covers to pull them over his head.

He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t. The room was dusty, that's all.

A sigh was heard from the entrance of the room, the door creaking on its hinges as it was pulled closed. “Feel better soon,” he heard the older boy whisper before the door clicked shut.

_________________

2.

His eyes burned with pain. It felt like a hot and molten metal was slowly pumping through his veins, forcing every nerve to come alight. He was ten years old, on his sixth day of the Trial of Grasses.

From what he heard from the few times he was lucid, most of the boys in his group had already died, their bodies rejecting the mutations. There was only one day left that he had to try and survive this.

It was about three to five times a day when he was lucid enough to understand what was happening around him. most of the time the mages were getting ready with the next batch of mutations. Other times those mages were talking to his teachers about his progress. They kept saying he wasn’t going to make it, and he was dead set on proving them wrong.

It was the fifth time that day that he was becoming aware of his surroundings again. He knew it would probably be the last of the day. When he tried to open his eyes, all he could see was red and yellow. The colours were swimming, mending into one another before coming apart again.

“I’d close my eyes if I were you.” A voice said from beside him. “Your new eyes are still forming. You’ll muck up the progress if you keep your eyes open for too long.” Lambert quickly shut his eyes at that. He could hear more liquids being put into the vials that were connected to his veins. He knew after six days of this hell that he only had half of a minute before being thrown into blinding, bone-breaking, body morphing pain again.

“I-I-I-Is it almost o-over?” he whispered out, his throat as dry as coarse sand. The voice beside him hummed, followed by the tinking of glasses being gently knocked together.

“By this time tomorrow night, if you survive, it will be over.” The voice sounded unimpressed and uncaring, as though they were talking about the latest politics of Velen. Lambert choked out a sob, gripping the arm of Sad Albert.

“C-C-Can you h-hold my hand?” He sounded pathetic to his own ears. He shouldn’t be asking for something so useless and stupid from someone who doesn’t care. He was just a kid. He didn’t deserve this.

Just then, a large and calloused hand gently landed on top of his own, smaller one. It wasn’t one of the mages, that was for sure. he knew the mages had softer, more bony hands.

“Take a deep breath, Lambert” he heard the voice of his fencing teacher say, just before he was thrown into the fiery pain of the Trial once more.

___________

3.

It was his third year out on the path. The kikimore was a bastard and a half to kill, but he managed it without losing any of his organs. His side was sliced open and the back of his head throbbed like a bitch, but he’ll survive with some Swallow. He dragged the bloody head of the kikimore through the mud and dirt, all the way to the little town in the middle of dumb-fuck nowhere, where he had gotten the contract in the first place.

As soon as he entered the town, people immediately shrank away, dragging their children into their homes and locking the windows and doors. Lambert rolled his eyes with a growl. He didn’t have time for idiots and their paranoia of him snatching their little crotch goblins, he just wanted the coin so he could get out.

The alderman of the town was in the tavern, as he had been when he left for the hunt, drinking and laughing and grabbing at any woman who had the misfortune of having to pass him. As soon as Lambert opened the door to the tavern, all went silent, turning to gawk and stare at him. He trudged his way through the tavern to the alderman's table, dropping the head right in front of him. The alderman gagged and dry heaved at the sight, having to turn away.

“I took care of your little problem,” the witcher growled threateningly, “Now pay up.”

the alderman put on a fake smile as he nodded. “Of course, sir witcher,” he began, reaching into his pocket to take out a coin purse, “here is your payment, as promised.”

Lambert snatched the coin purse from the cocky assholes' grubby hands, pulling it open to count the contents.

“.... there's only twenty in here....” His hands shook with anger, snapping his head up to face the stingy bastard. there was no way in all the realms that he was going to accept twenty for a fucking kikimore.

“Is there a problem?” The alderman asked, feigning innocence.

“Y-You owe me a-at least a hundred!” Shit. he bit the inside of his cheek as a form of self-punishment. He was trying to get his stutter under control, and stuttering really fucks a man up when he’s trying to threaten someone. “F-Fuckin... pay me the rest!”

“Oh no, I’m s-s-s-shaking in my boots!” a chorus of laughter filled the tavern, causing Lambert to growl deep in his throat. “What are y-y-you going to do about it?” The alderman asked, an eyebrow raised with a shit-eating grin.

Lambert showed exactly what he was going to do about it. He punched the stupid fucker right in his stupid mouth, knocking him unconscious.

He was run out of town and didn’t get the coin he was owed.

___________

4.

It was winter number who knows. Kaer Morhen had seen better days, the keep crumbling more with every year that passed.

He was sat at the main hall table, Eskel on his left and Vesemir and Geralt on his right. The bastard furthest from him had gained the title of ‘White Wolf’ in recent years, all because of a bard that followed him around. He wasn’t too angry at that, the stupid ‘Toss a Coin’ song was making miracles happen when it came to proper pay. Hell, nowadays he’s even getting tips.

No, he was upset with the way Geralt was talking about the bard. He kept switching between calling him Jaskier and Dandelion, apparently, the bard went by both. The bastard kept complaining about stupid shit. Whenever he mentioned the bard, it was always ‘Jaskier is so annoying, I never get any peace and quiet’ or ‘Dandelion always helps me wash, I just want some time to be alone’ and the complaint Lambert hated the most, ‘he keeps trying to sing songs about me and I hate it.’

Geralt was on another one of his complaining rants, talking about how Jaskier helped patch him up when ‘he didn’t need the help’ and that’s when Lambert had enough. He forcefully slammed his tankard of White Gull laced Ale onto the table as he sharply stood up.

“Lambert?” He heard Eskel ask beside him, but he practically ignored it as he turned to face Geralt.

“Do you honestly ever stop complaining?!” He shouted, not surprising anyone at the table with him. “You’re always complaining about shit that isn’t even that bad! Do you even know how good you have it? Or are you too much of an entitled ass to wipe the shit from your eyes that’s blinding you from the actual situation you’re blessed to fucking be in!”

“What are you-” Geralt tried to say, but the younger wolf cut him off.

“You have no right to fucking complain about anything! Y-You have a bard that sings your praises and cares for you in a way none of us have! Your name is known all across the continent a-and you aren’t even from Rivia! W-What makes you so important that makes everyone love you so much, huh? We all know Eskel here is just as capable of a witcher as if not more so, and no one even gives him the time of fucking day because he isn’t the ‘great White Wolf’ and i-its fucking B-BULLSHIT!”

“It just seems like you’re jealous of me.” Geralt rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to his drink, which Lambert knocked to the ground.

“T-This is why I fucking hate you, you b-bastard! Y-You act so high and m-mighty, l-like you’re a-above us all, but the truth is that y-you don’t deserve h-half the shit you have!”

“Lambert that’s enough!” Vesemir shouted, slamming his hand onto the table. Lambert was panting now, shaking with the uncontrollable rage that festered inside of him. He felt Eskel behind him, planting a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off as he began to march towards the door.

“Where are you going?” He heard Eskel call to him.

“F-Fishing!”

He wasn’t crying. The debris that was floating in the air was irritating his eyes. ______________

5.

“Aiden!” He called out, throat becoming hoarse from the amount of yelling he was doing.

Aiden told him that someone was on his trail. He told him that he felt like he was being followed. Hell, even he felt the eyes on the back of their heads following them, but Lambert left him alone. He thought the cat witcher could handle them, but he shouldn’t have ever left his side.

Finally, after calling and searching, he finally found him. The attackers dumped him in the bushes, far from the campsite. Thank the Gods that he could follow the smell of his blood, maybe he made it just in time.

He could see the witcher's boots sticking out from a bush, and he carefully dragged him out.

Arrows. Seven arrows were protruding from Aiden's chest. A witcher would have a chance of surviving that if it weren’t for the deep slit in his neck. Lambert could feel his heart drop at the sight. His hands trembled as he struggled to take off his gloves, feeling his face for any warmth. He knew his heart wasn’t beating, he couldn’t hear it, but he was trying to delusion himself into thinking Aiden had a chance of surviving.

His skin was cold, eyes wide with shock. Lambert's vision started to blur as he felt warm and wet drops of water roll down his cheeks and off his chin.

“A-Aiden... c-come on Aiden... i-its t-time to get up y-y-y-you fucking asshole.” There was no venom to his words. If he focused, he could almost hear what Aiden would say when he started to stutter.

“Deep breaths, Lambert. Think about the word you want to say.”

But he wasn’t saying that. Not anymore. Now all that was left of the witcher was a corpse, cold and lifeless.

The walls Lambert had carefully built when he was a child to hide his emotions had crumbled away. He had no chance of stopping himself from sobbing and crying. He leaned down to press his forehead to Aidens, still holding his face in his shaking hands.

“D-D-D-Don’t leave m-me Aiden, please! I-I-I can’t do it without y-y-you. C-C-Come back! Please!”

He wailed into the night, and soon he could feel the sun warming his back as it rose over the horizon. Still, he refused to move.

“Not him.... a-a-anyone but h-him.”

_______

6.

Ciri was growing up to be a stubborn young lady, just like her grandmother. It was dark and cold, the wind howling through the cracks of the old keep, and Lambert thought he was the only one awake, nursing his vodka next to the warm fire.

“Mind if I joined you?” A familiar deep voice called gently from the darkness. Lambert turned his head to look at the figure looming in the doorway. Eskel had a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders, carrying a tankard of what smelled of mead in his hands. Lambert shrugged and put his focus back onto the fire, listening as Eskel moved across the floor to sit next to him.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the thumping of their hearts and the crackle of the fire. If Lambert really wanted to focus, he could hear Jaskier all the way from Geralt's room, but he really didn’t want to.

When some time passed, he could hear Eskel shuffling beside him, as if to take something out of his pocket. Knowing him and his massive pockets, Lambert assumed it was a travel-sized book or a ball of yarn. Why Eskel took up knitting, he had no clue. It was neither of those things, however, as the older wolf placed something into his lap.

It was a tray of watercolour paint. Brand new and unopened. Lambert gawked at the paint for a moment, his brain trying to think of something to do or say, and all Eskel did was chuckle.

“I found your painting stuff near the lake last year.”

“H-H-How did you know it was m-mine?!” Lambert asked, flabbergasted.

“Jaskier would own better supplies, Ciri is still too young to paint even half as well as what I saw, and I doubt anyone else would even consider painting.” Eskel smiled gently, nudging Lambert teasingly. “I took note of the colours you were running out of, and bought some replacements for you when I stopped by a Novigrad art supply shop.”

Lambert was dumbstruck. He didn’t know what to say. He put his vodka down beside him to lift the paint, gently as if he would break it.

“I-I don’t know what t-to...”

“A ‘thank you’ will suffice” Eskel laughed, wrapping an arm around Lambert's shoulders.

The younger wolf turned to him, too drunk and too tired to hide the absolute joy that was radiating off his face. “T-T-Thank you.”

#the witcher lambert #lambert witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher lambert headcanon #the witcher lambert fanfiction #soft lambert #the witcher fluff #the witcher angst #the witcher aiden #the witcher fanfic

[angelltheninth]

Geralt loves laying his head on your stomach to rest. But not in any position, in such a way that he feels the weight of your legs on his back, your soft thighs on his shoulders, your skin prickling as he decides to kiss the inside of your thighs.

#geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt imagine #geralt headcanon #geralt fluff #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher headcanon #the witcher fluff #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #the witcher x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia headcanon #geralt of rivia fluff #x reader

[princessaxoxo]

Mine

Dark!Geralt x reader

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

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

Word Count: 791

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

You began to notice that your hands were shaking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gummydummy19]

Traveling with Geralt

#geralt of rivia fluff #geralt moodboard #geralt fanfic #gummydummy19 #fluff #fanfiction #smut #the witcher fluff #the witcher #the witcher moodboard #moodboard

[tielmamon]

Geralt still hates parties, but most of the time its worth the trouble if he's with his bard 🥹❤️

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #the witcher #fanart #some fluff for the soul #still realing from s3 #geraskier babes dont abandon ship PLEASE #my jaskier corset agenda

[thewritersaddictions]

Hello. I really like your fanfiction, they are very cozy and family, they feel warm. Thank you very much for this wonderful content on my favorite rare ship 💐 Do you mind if I request another one? Ciri invites Vernon to spend a weekend in Corvo Bianco for the first time at the house of her parents Geralt and Yennefer (Geralt is an old friend of Roche and the witcher was initially not thrilled that Vernon was dating his young daughter Ciri. Nevertheless, Geralt appreciates their sincere love and defends Roche in front of strict Yennefer, who strongly disapproves of her daughter's boyfriend. But Ciri really hopes that someday they will all get along.) Just some little moments with Ciri, Vernon, Geralt and Yennefer.

Soft gestures for Lovers: 10.family dinners where your lover just keeps coming to your side "how you doin love?" "oooh cooking sum delicious i see" "mom, look at the love of MY LIFEEE" 14.when they're tired and want to just cling onto you : [ 16.making flower rings for your lover >> 18.when they're drunk and they keep mumbling i love yous and how much they want to kiss you so bad (Roche и Geralt drunk. And drunk Vernon starts telling Geralt how much he loves Geralt's daughter Ciri. Х)) 20."lay on my lap, please, i wanna play with your hair"

Here you go lovely! This was really nice to write! Hope you enjoy, and request are always open!

#fluff #ciri x vernon roche #ciri x vernon #vernon roche #vernon roche x ciri #the witcher fluff #the witcher imagine #requests open #request answered #thanks anon! #anon ask #anon answered #anon welcome

[ro-is-struggling]

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

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

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

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

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

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

READ PART 2 HERE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm fine."

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

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

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

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

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

"It didn't."

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

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

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

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

"I will be." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll be fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 2 HERE

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