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#witcher geralt
darkverrmin · 15 hours ago
Okay, but what if Jaskier is tied to Geralt by destiny and both of them have no clue?
About 15 years ago, Geralt saved a nobleman from getting eaten by a drowners. The man was very thankful and wanted to reward Geralt with more than just coin. He invited Geralt over to dinner, offered him to stay at his keep. Geralt refused, but the man insisted that just giving Geralt coin wasn't enough.
Tired and annoyed, Geralt invoked the law of surprise, "the first thing that comes to greet you".
The man was wearing riding clothes, so Geralt just expected to get the man's horse. But the moment after, a small boy, aged no more than four, was running towards them.
"Dad! Are you alr- Woah! Who is that? I like your swords, sir!"
Geralt went pale at the sight of the boy and fled. The last thing he needed now was a small child on his hands.
15 years later, that same child (now a eighteen year old man), approached Geralt at a tavern in Upper Posada.
"I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood."
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adinskyy · a month ago
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witcher request 1#
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dazedandinked · 6 months ago
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Here's my first commission ever!
I'm so happy I had the chance to draw Modern!Geralt again 💕
Thank you @omaano for this request!
If you want to know more about my Ko-fi sketch commissions, read here or send a DM
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radaofrivia · 4 months ago
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Witcher Season 2, December 17th on Netflix
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bleufrost · 4 months ago
Seeing You Again | Geralt x reader {smut}
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summary: you meet geralt one day as you're both trying to make your way into the city. saving him not once, but twice from the rage of people, your kindness disrupts his world immediately. he quickly learns that maybe there is still good in the world. and your goodness is one he is desperate to know.
a/n: this was a lovely request by @ab-haya thank you so much for allowing me to write this 🖤 i adore geralt and finally being able to do something for him was so fun! I hope you enjoy, love!
(also, I did make the reader badass, but not in bed. if you'd like a dom reader/sub geralt, i can definitely try that out!!)
warnings: crude language, violence, threats, injury, mentions of scars/past abuse
smut warnings: its primarily fluffy, but some rough play, fingering, handjob, cumplay, unprotected sex (be safe guys!), and size kink
Vizima wasn't well known for its large mountains or protruding hills, but what it was known for were the cavernous rocks hidden on the sides of many of the canals. Even more famous were the giant walls separating the city from the rest of the world. The options for travel were few and far between, either attempting passage through the closed off gates or risking your life on the jagged rocks. For most, the former option was the obvious choice. However, you were most definitely not most. 
Growing up in the mountains, it was often truly a battle of the fittest. You had learned how to climb at a young age, using it to your advantage to gain entry into closed off villages...and the occasional castle. Right now, with Vizima under lock down, you were more than grateful for the many cuts, bruises, and broken bones that had strengthened you into the climber you are today. Without the experience, you'd surely be stuck outside the walls with the drowners all night. 
Nearing the city gates, your feet stop at the sound of a sudden commotion behind you. When you turn, a sight stands before you that you never would have expected to actually see. 
A witcher. 
The snow white hair and glowing amber eyes of the large man make him stand out significantly against the sea of villagers. His skin is scarred and rough, the signs of many battles litter the parts of him that aren't covered in armor. 
For a second, you're completely lost in thought. Witchers were things of legend. Mutants made with the sole purpose of fighting the monsters that others could not. They were fairy tales, myths created to bring some sense of comfort to people. 
Were they meant to be so beautiful? Surely, a savior would be.
The sound of angry villagers forces you from your thoughts, reminding you that not everyone thought so highly of his people. It was truly ridiculous that they would fear someone whose sole intent was to save them. Ridiculous, yet still true nonetheless. 
You look back to the wall for a brief moment, sighing as you decide that it would have to wait. 
"You vile monster! Leave me alone!" The old lady yelling at the witcher shrieks her words. You roll your eyes, but they soften as you catch the slight hurt look on the witcher's face. 
"I think it's best you step away from her, Witcher." The tall man turns at the sound of your voice. His eyes scan you quickly, clearly trying to decide whether you're a friend or foe. 
"I was only asking for directions." His words are defensive, but you don't blame him. 
"Yes, but she's clearly not going to be of any help." You turn to the old lady who is staring at the witcher with a satisfied sneer. Oh, so she thinks you're on her side? 
"Feel free to be on your way, ma'am. You and your prejudice are completely useless and I'd much rather not have to put up with your monstrous ignorance. It's quite hideous." The old lady stares at you in shock and disgust. She spits on the ground in front of you and walks away, but not before shouting over her shoulder. "Let filth lay with filth!" 
Your eyes roll and you scoff. Turning back to the witcher, you find that his eyes are no longer defensive. Instead, there's a certain curious spark that he doesn't seem to be hiding. 
"Now, Witcher. What can I help you with?" He takes in a deep breath, a low "hmm" leaves his mouth before he steps closer to you. 
"I was wondering if you knew how I could be granted passage into Vizima." 
You bite your lip and look at the large gate currently being patrolled by guards. You knew you weren't being allowed entrance because you had no genuine business there. You were simply seeking a friend that had last been seen in the city. A witcher though, may be a different story. 
There were tales of a cockatrice having made residence in the sewers, a beast whose death could most definitely be aided by the help of a witcher. Amongst many other scrolls bound to be posted for help, this beast may be his ticket in. 
"I can’t make any guarantees, but there's a cockatrice living in the sewers and terrorizing the locals. Perhaps if you could offer its head, they'd be more inclined to grant you passage." He nods his head, making that low hum once again. He pulls out his blade and examines it quickly.
It's a beautiful weapon, but you know that without a certain coating, killing the creature would be a severe ordeal. 
Rummaging through your bag, you push things around until your hand lands on a vile of lime green liquid. You smile in triumph and hold it out to him.
"Here, take this with you." The witcher looks down at it, then back at you with slight distrust. Again, you don't blame him. 
"Don't worry, I'm not trying to kill you. It's ornithosaur oil. Coat your blade in it before battle and it should make killing the creature much easier." You push the vile toward him, eager for him to take it. 
It takes him a second longer to make up his mind, but he finally reaches over and picks up the oil. Placing it in his bag, he trades it for a pouch. It jingles with the coin inside. 
"How much?" The pouch tilts over in his hand, ready to pay you for the help. You didn't want his money though, you just wanted to make his life a little easier. Something about his weary look and weathered features made your heart bleed for him. Witchers, like many beings in this world, were treated incredibly unfairly. 
"No, don't worry about it. Consider it a gift." You continue to smile at him, hoping that your kindness could ease some of his stress. 
"A gift?" His brows furrow. Whether he's unfamiliar with the gesture, or just generosity in general, you're not sure. 
"Yes, a gift. For allowing some of us to rest easier at night." His mind is working over your words, taking the time again to decide how to react. He eventually decides to gesture to the large wall to the side of the two of you.
"Are you trying to get in? I could tell them you're assisting me." 
You shake your head immediately. "I'm going in, but I'll find my own way." It's not that you don't want to travel with him, moreso it's the knowledge that the city won't take kindly to lies...especially those told by a witcher. You'd rather not risk it.
"Are you certain? You wouldn't have to actually fight the beast, it would only be to get you into the city. As payment for your assistance." He's almost begging at this point, seemingly a little desperate to pay you back in some way. He wasn't indebted to you though. There really was no need and you want him to know that. Some kindness is simply that.
"You don't owe me anything, Witcher. Though, I hope to be seeing you soon." You mean that. Before he can argue again, you turn and jog down the side of the elevated grass and toward the wall to the city. Turning one last time, you offer the witcher a small wave and smile. He nods to you. 
Walking on the bridge and up to the guards, Geralt can't take his mind off of you. The way you had swooped in, essentially rescuing him from the old woman and even going so far as to tell her was like nothing he had ever seen before. You were small and unassuming by comparison to his own large and intimidating stature, not someone he'd deem a threat. Yet, the fierce protectiveness you'd shown in his defense made him second guess just how much he should really be underestimating you. 
Lost in thought, he nearly misses the flash of something caught in his peripheral vision. A witcher never misses anything though, so he does turn. What he sees is shocking, to say the least. 
You'd not taken him up on his offer to get you into the city, and seeing you steadily climbing the large wall told him exactly why. It was impressive, though that felt like an understatement. Geralt had trained endlessly within the walls of Kaer Morhen, but nothing he could do was anywhere near as incredible as the way you skillfully sought out each foothold, hoisting yourself up without fail. 
Now he'd really need to be sure not to underestimate you. 
When he reaches the guards, he begins the conversation he's had many times before. Kill a monster, receive payment. In this case, payment would be entrance to the city. 
Halfway through the monotonous convincing, a rock crashes to the ground off to the side that you'd been climbing up. Geralt's eyes instantly seek you out, finding you desperately attempting to pull yourself up over the ledge by the small grasp you still had on the stone. His heart rate picks up, nearly as fast as a humans as he wills himself not to panic. 
The thought of you getting hurt or caught struck fear in him that he could not quite explain. 
The guards turn, and in a fit of fast thinking, Geralt says the first lie that comes to mind. "The sun is nearly set. Sounds like the drowners are getting an early start to their night." 
This instantly stirs alarm in the soldiers, who scramble to make their decision. Geralt's eyes drift up once more, a small smile spreading over his lips as he just barely catches your bag flip over the other side of the wall. 
You'd be safe, and he knew he'd be seeing you again. 
Turns out, again came sooner than either of you thought. 
Sitting in The Hairy Bear, you nurse a small pitcher of alcohol while watching the surrounding crowd. It wasn't exactly safe here for a woman alone, so your hood was decidedly staying up while you sat in the corner to rest. Things hadn't quite gone to plan. Your friend, as it turns out, was not in the city at all. He'd left not a day before you'd arrived, taking with him the last chance you had for a decent rest in weeks. 
Like you said, it wasn't exactly safe out here for a woman. Or anywhere, really. You were exhausted, and the promise of having someone you trusted to allow you to lower your guard was nearing a necessity. You could fight, even better than most of the men here, but that wouldn't protect you if you were sleeping...or too tired to stand. 
From the opposite end of the tavern, the door swings open with a gust of wind. You pull your cloak closer, attempting in vain to stop the icy chill from reaching your bones. It takes only seconds for you to discover that something is wrong. The whole rowdy room was now eerily silent. 
"Get out. We don't mingle with mutant scum!" Your eyes dart up, already knowing who you'd find on the receiving end of such harsh words. 
"I'm simply looking for a place to rest." The Witcher makes to move past the drunkard, but the man pushes against his chest harshly. 
"I said leave you ugly sack of shit!" Where there was only one man before, now there are at least ten backing his cruel words up. 
Even from here, you can see the turmoil in his golden eyes. If he hurts them, he's only proving them right. How cowardly of them to attack him when they know he can't fight back. 
Another shove, and the drunk man is nearly spitting in the witcher's face. That was the last straw for you. 
"Fucking monsters like you should-" the man stops suddenly, feeling the cool blade pressing against his throat. Your hood is still over your head, but you know your identity won't remain a mystery for long. The witcher might have enough restraint to take the abuse, but you sure didn't have enough to allow him to. 
"Should what? Don't get shy now, finish your fucking sentence!" The harsh scowl can't be seen well, but the acid in your voice translates it nicely. You see the way the man's eyes grow in fear and it only prompts you to push the blade a little deeper. 
"Nothing? How utterly humiliating." You almost want him to fight back, give you something fun to do. He doesn't though, and you and the witcher watch as he walks away with his head held low. 
The group around you watches with baited breath. Tired of it, you lift your blade again. 
"Anybody else care to voice your idiotic beliefs?" The crowd immediately disperses and you shake your head in annoyance. How very typical of them to chicken out when faced with an opponent that can fight back. 
Once everyone has gone back to what they were doing, you turn to the witcher and lift your hood. 
"I knew I'd be seeing you again." The smile on your face is a stark contrast to the angry yells you had shouted only moments before. 
The witcher offers you a small smirk. "That was impressive." The look on his face tells you that he's acting nonchalant, but you can see in the way his eyes soften that he truly appreciates the help. 
"It's not hard to intimidate cowards." Behind you, your ears pick up the angry voice of another drunk man. 
"Look, she's just another headstrong bitch!" Your eyes go dull for a second before you pull a dagger from the holster on your thigh and turn suddenly to let it fly through the air. It lands directly in the palm of the man, shattering his glass and causing him to howl in pain. 
You turn back to the witcher with a smile. 
"Sometimes intimidating requires a little bloodshed." He lets out an amused puff of air, this time smiling genuinely down at you. 
You guide the tall man back to the corner you were seated in before the commotion, allowing him to choose the seat he felt most comfortable in before occupying the empty one across from him. 
"How did the battle in the sewers go? I'm guessing you won. You know, considering you're here." You offer him some fruit you had at the table and he takes one. 
"It wasn't as easy as I'd hoped. The oil you gave me was very useful though." He takes another piece of fruit, and you can tell he's hungry. Waving down the waitress, you ask her to bring you some bread and stew. 
"Are you hurt at all?" His face contorts slightly, but that is quickly wiped from his features when he notices he's made it obvious. 
"It's nothing I can't handle." You nod and pull out a few herbs from your bag. 
"I don't doubt that. But you don't have to handle it alone." Working quickly, you crush the herbs into a paste, pouring in some of your alcohol as a base to make the remedy into a digestible liquid. 
The witcher watches you in interest, this time not at all defensive when you slide the liquid over to him. 
He takes it and sniffs it, nose scrunching like a wolf when he gets a whiff of the medicine. The waitress places down the food in front of you and you thank her. 
Tearing off a piece of bread, you push the bowl and loaf over to him.
Instantly, he's shaking his head as he recognizes the generosity that's clearly becoming a pattern with you. 
"I'm not hungry. You should eat." He places the liquid down, ready to continue to argue. Too bad for him, you're much more stubborn. 
"I already ate. Besides, that thing tastes about as bad as it smells. It works wonders to stop pain and infection, but you're going to need something to get the flavor out of your mouth." He looks into your eyes, golden honey piercing into you as he tries desperately to understand. 
"At least let me pay you this time." You begin to shake your head, but stop suddenly as you remember you have no place to sleep. 
"Are you planning to rent a room here?" He nods his head. "I can cover the cost for you to stay tonight." 
Your eyes find the innkeeper and you sigh. 
"I was actually wondering if I could stay with you. The innkeeper here is a misogynistic pig. He doesn't allow women to rent rooms alone." When you look back to the witcher, you're not surprised to see the hesitancy in his features. 
"I'll give you the money for the room, I just can't rent it myself." The offer pulls him from his thoughts and his once thoughtful face turns stormy. 
"I'm paying for the room." You shake your head, reaching for your coin pouch, but you stop when you feel his looming glare.
"Either I pay, or you sleep outside with my horse." You look at him, mouth open in feigned shock. The joking lilt in his voice told you that the threat was lighthearted and you can't stop the laugh that spills from your lips. You don't know it at the time, but he thinks it has to be just about the prettiest sound he's ever heard. 
"What's your name, witcher?" 
"Geralt. Of Rivia." You sit back, relaxing against the back of the seat.
"Well Geralt, you'd better hurry up and eat before I decide to take your horse up as my bunkmate for the night instead of you." 
He takes the threat seriously and quickly downs the medicine, moving to the stew instantly to wash the disgusting taste from his mouth. 
Watching the guards patrol the city from your seat at the windowsill, you welcome the gentle warmth of the fireplace Geralt stokes to life behind you. The cold seeps in through the cracks of the inn, but the flames burn brightly to combat it. When he stands, a pained grunt leaves his mouth and you instantly fall from your reverie. 
Standing, you pull your robe tightly over your undergarments and make your way over to him. 
"Where are you hurt?" Your feet nearly hit against his, hands itching to touch the newly exposed skin as he stands before you in his sleep shirt and pants. 
"It's nothing." He dismisses your concern, but makes no effort to stop you as you guide him to the bed to sit. A soft groan slips from his mouth, and you get the impression that it's his abdomen that's injured. 
Your hand comes up to rest at the laced up collar of his shirt, working the threading loose to expose his chest. Just as you begin to open the shirt, his own strong hands envelop yours and bring your movements to a halt. 
"It's not a pretty sight." Your eyes search his, seeing the self doubt stir to life in his eyes. Did he truly not see how beautiful he was? Of course, he could mean the wound, but the uncertainty in his glowing eyes tells you it's something more than that. 
You nod, and he releases your hands, allowing them to rid him of his shirt completely. You understand his concern immediately. 
His chest is littered with scars, both old and relatively new. Jagged claw marks and the straight lines of blades cover the expanse of his skin. His body doesn't bother you in the slightest, and it definitely doesn't change how breathtaking you find him to be. What it does do though, is make you mourn for him. This world was so unkind to those who were different. The monster slashes were nearly a given part of being a witcher. The more human marks were the ones that struck anger and pain in your heart. 
"I told you it wasn't pretty." You lock eyes with Geralt, hand coming up to rest against his chest. 
"The only thing ugly about this is the fact that people were cruel enough to inflict it upon you." There’s a softness that replaces the fear in his eyes, and you wish more than anything else that you could make that fear dispel permanently. That was unrealistic though. You couldn't stop the nightmares from haunting him, but you could stop the physical pain he was likely in right now. 
Leaning down, you rest between his legs with your own knees softly hitting the floor. Geralt watches you intently, seeing as you pull your bag from the side of the bed and dig around for the ointment and bandages you knew to be in there. 
His injury was painful, but luckily nothing serious in a physical sense. It wouldn't need stitches. You grab a clean cloth, dipping it into some water from your canteen and gently wipe around the skin of his wound. When the blood is cleared, you grab a new cloth and pour the ointment over it. 
"This might sting a bit." Geralt only nods, breathing heavy as he prepares for the pain. 
When the ointment meets his skin, he jolts a little. 
"I'm sorry. I'm almost done, I promise." You continue to cover his injury, feeling as his hand comes over to rest against your cheek. His thumb strokes your skin gently, and you recognize this as a comfort for him.
"Don't apologize. You've shown me more kindness tonight than I've been offered in years." His voice is thick, but it's a raw honesty kind of heavy. He wasn't speaking out of pain, at least not one caused by the cut you were cleaning. 
It almost literally hurts you to move from his grasp, but you have to dress the wound so it wouldn't become infected. Rising slightly, you grab the bandage and lean closer to him. Your body is nearly pressed to his crotch when your hands work the bandage around his wide torso, and back again. Over and over, you brush his thighs, hot breath fanning over his already heated abdomen as you continue to wrap him. When you finish, the flush in your cheeks feels like a wildfire. 
From your place on the floor, you look up at Geralt to tell him you're done. It's only then that you really notice how large he is. His chest is strong and rippled with tight muscle, arms big enough to throw you around easily if he wanted to. His abdomen, though covered, had felt hard against your fingers. You suddenly feel lightheaded at the sheer size of him, and when your hands come up to steady yourself, they land on the large muscle of his thighs. 
That's when you hear it. A low growl rumbles from Geralt's throat when you touch him. Looking back up, you can barely recognize his honey-colored eyes as they are now dark with lust. 
You can feel your core becoming wet, excitement filling you at the thought of Geralt wanting you just as badly as you want him in that moment. 
"Geralt…" Another low rumble leaves from his lips, but he blinks his eyes rapidly to get ahold of himself. When he opens them again, the gentleness is back on his features. 
His hand comes back up to stroke your cheek and his brows furrow.
"You don't have to do anything, kitten. We can just sleep." The reassurance makes your heart swell, only driving you to want him even more. You lean into his hand, rubbing your cheek against the calloused skin of his hand.
"And if I want to do something?" You slowly turn your head to the side, taking one of his large fingers into your mouth and sucking gently. 
Above you, Geralt groans and guides you up to sit on his lap. You let his finger go with a soft 'pop' and smile at him. 
He grins back at you, admiring your face and wishing desperately to have it permanently ingrained in his memory. Your rosy skin and wide eyes would surely be the death of him. That little smile was just the weapon that made it certain. 
Leaning forward, Geralt presses his lips to yours. At first, it's gentle and sweet. You both take the time to explore the feeling of each other's lips, not wanting to take this moment for granted. 
Soon though, it becomes more heated. His hand presses you tightly to him, and you yelp in surprise when you feel the large bulge hit against your clothed heat. 
Geralt chuckles, leaning down to press wet kisses down your neck. He sucks on the skin just above where your robe begins, making you moan as you become more and more sensitive under his touch. 
Your hips grind down on him, and the ragged breath that escapes him makes you flutter against him. When you grind down again, Geralt forcefully pulls your robe off and throws it off to the side. 
He instantly leans down, pushing your bra aside as his lips connect with your sensitive nipple. His other hand comes down to pinch the other, massaging the breast he isn't currently sucking between his teeth. His hands are so large, they encase you completely and your breathing falters as you become more and more sensitive to his every move. 
"Geralt, I need-" you can't finish your sentence as a moan escapes your lips when he tugs on your nipple. He kisses your breast gently and grins at you, cockiness clear on his face. 
"What is it you need, kitten? I couldn't quite catch that." He lifts his face to kiss you passionately, letting his tongue explore your mouth. 
Unable to speak, you instead reach your hands down, desperately seeking to release him from the confines of his pants. He begins to laugh into the kiss when he feels your fumbling hands, but it quickly turns into a rumbling groan as your fingers finally find their way beneath his pants. 
Slipping around his cock, your eyes widen at just how big he is. Obviously, you expected it  because of, well, everything about him, but you couldn't even get your hand halfway around his length.
The shock quickly wears off, as determination sets in. Your hand grasps as much of him as you can and you slowly stroke him, loving the way his eyes shut tightly at the feeling. 
"You're such a sweet little thing, wanting to take care of me." You whimper at his strained words, knowing you'd do anything if it meant making him feel good. 
Your other hand reaches down, cupping his balls and squeezing as your strokes become faster. Geralt ruts into your hand, breath coming out rapidly and fanning your heated skin. You kiss his chest, and his eyes open to meet yours, hand suddenly coming to unwrap your hold on his throbbing member. Instantly you think you might’ve done something wrong, and he notices right away. 
His hand strokes your cheek and he kisses you. 
"If you kept going, I would've cum all over your hand. That isn't where I intend to do that." Your pussy throbs at the gravelly base of his voice and you pull his lips back to you. 
You're aching for him now, desperately needing to feel him deep inside your cunt. 
"Geralt please." He smiles and kisses your nose. 
"You're so cute when you beg." You feel his arm pushing down and stopping right at your clit. His fingers press gently, stroking small circles into the fabric and driving you wild in the process. Your own hand goes down, pushing your panties aside to grant him uninhibited access to your wet core. 
Geralt smiles and presses the rough pads of his fingers back down on your clit again. This time you feel him completely. You whine as his fingers trace the lips of your pussy, slowly spreading you open and tracing your slit over again. 
"You're so wet. Absolutely fucking beautiful." The praise makes you giddy, but you have very little time to appreciate it as you feel a thick finger push its way into your tight hole. 
Geralt kisses you fiercely, swallowing up your moans as he moves his finger in and out of you slowly. When your hand comes up to clutch his arm, he looks down between the two of you and inserts another large finger. You gasp loudly, feeling his two digits pushing into you. 
Geralt kisses you again and you can't help it when your hips grind into the palm of his hand. He leans back, watching your brow quiver as he continues to push his fingers into you, speeding up when your breathing becomes erratic. 
You can feel your core tightening, a slowly building fire begins to light deep within you and you hold on to Geralt tightly as his fingers speed up, thrusting in and out of your wet pussy at an unrelenting pace. Suddenly, you feel the chord snap, your pussy spasms around his fingers and he continues to move them slowly inside of you as you cum on his hand.
He can't keep his eyes off you, and he's glad for that as he watches you unravel beneath him.
When your breath finally calms, Geralt slips his fingers out of you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks your juices off of them, eyes falling shut as he groans at the taste. 
"I'll have to remember how sweet you are for next time." You whimper again, taking his fingers and pulling them into your own mouth. Geralt pulls them out, then watches your lips closely as he pushes them back in. His fingers move in and out of your mouth, much like they had just done with your pussy not moments before. 
"I'll have to remember how good you are with your mouth as well." You giggle around his fingers and push yourself forward, grinding yourself into his hard cock. 
He's leaking precum onto your tummy and you love the way he feels against you. Suddenly, he stills your hips with his large palm.
"Are you sure you're able to?" You answer him by grasping his cock and guiding it to your soaked pussy. 
Geralt groans loudly and you kiss him as he thrusts his hips up, teasing his hard cock against the lips of your wet heat. 
"Please don't make me beg again." You feel as though you'll die if you can't have him now. He continues to tease you a little longer, rutting his cock up and down your slit as he attempts to control himself above you. 
"If I asked you to, would you?" You kiss the base of his throat and sigh against him. 
At that, he pushes himself past your entrance, just barely stroking the head of his cock into your hole. You grasp his shoulders and try to push him further into you, but he resists. 
"Patience, kitten. I don't want to hurt you." You bite down on his chest and whimper. 
"Oh, but I wish you would." That's all it seems to take to break his resolve. 
Geralt growls as he pushes his cock into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out, reaching your arms around him to both push him away and pull him closer. It hurts, feels as though you're being ripped apart, but somehow you crave the feeling even more with each passing second. 
He gives you a moment to adjust, but you know you can't. There's no way, with how devastatingly big he is and how small you seem to be by comparison. 
His lips come down to kiss your cheeks, and it's only then that you notice your crying. 
"Is this what you want? You want to hurt?" You can't nod your head fast enough. 
"Please." Geralt groans and pulls his cock nearly all the way out, his head just barely inside you, before he pushes all the way back in. You can feel yourself tightening around him almost uncontrollably. 
When you pull him down to kiss you, his hips pick up their pace, thrusting in and out of you at an unrelenting speed. 
He keeps his lips locked on yours, taking all of your cries as he forcefully fucks you into the mattress. The slow build from before returns, but this time it seems to be barreling toward you. 
Geralt's hand wraps around your leg, pulling it over his hip and holding you steady as he continues to move his hips in and out of your dripping core. 
"Be good for me." 
He moves his hand from your leg, and you almost let it fall back down. A sharp smack onto your inner thigh brings you back to attention though, Geralt's nonverbal warning letting you know that you needed to keep your leg up. 
When he’s sure you're not going to move, his hand comes down to press against the top of your core. He gathers some of your juices on his fingers and slips them into his mouth, grinning around the pads of his fingertips. You moan loudly, never in your life having felt so desired and turned on. 
His fingers come back down to play with your clit, the stimulation making your vision go blurry. You reach for his arm, attempting to stop him but he's so much stronger than you. You can't. 
"Geralt, I'm gonna-" he presses himself down to kiss you harshly as you feel yourself explode.
Your vision goes spotty and white, pussy clenching down on him and threatening to suffocate his throbbing cock. He keeps moving within you, helping you ride out your orgasm. 
You feel yourself continue to flutter against him, his dick pushing into you, thrusts stuttering as he grinds himself as deeply into you as he can. Geralt nearly shouts as you feel him erupt within you, painting your walls white with his sticky cum. 
He can't seem to catch his breath, and you guide his head down to rest against your breasts. It takes a few minutes, but finally you feel him relax and soften within you. 
Kissing you chest, Geralt sighs above you. The feel of him so heavy on top of you is by far the most comfortable and safe thing you've experienced in years. A large part of you never wants him to get up,  but you know that can't happen. 
As if he hears you, Geralt rises. His cock slowly slips from between your thighs and he lifts himself off the bed. You can feel him seeping out of your folds, and you sigh at the loss of contact. 
It doesn't last long, and as your eyes begin to droop you feel something wet stroking your thighs. It moves up to your core, and you hiss at the overstimulation.
Your legs try to shut, but Geralt forces them open.
"Geralt, I don't think I can." He gently massages the inside of your thigh, coaxing your legs to remain open for him.
"I'm only cleaning up, kitten. It appears I've made a mess of you." Realizing that he's taking care of you in such a pure way causes your heart to beat a little faster. You allow your legs to fall open, the wet cloth slowly wiping up the visible signs of your lovemaking. 
Was that what this was? Lovemaking? You don't know and you're far too tired to let it plague your mind tonight. 
Geralt disappears again, this time coming back with a blanket that he pulls over the two of you as he lies down beside you. 
Bringing you to rest against his chest, Geralt's eyes fall shut as your fingers brush against his skin. For once, he is completely calm. 
"Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning." His voice is low and rumbling, like a thunderstorm making it's way over the horizon. The vibration lulls you to sleep, but not before you let out a quiet, "promise?" 
Geralt kisses the top of your head, pulling you even closer to him. 
"I promise."
In true witcher fashion, his promise is not broken. 
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darkverrmin · 3 months ago
Lambert: I love that silly, funky bard. He makes Geralt less of an arsehole.
Lambert: Hey, Geralt, go fix the damn roof!
Geralt: no
Lambert: ?? Why not?
Geralt: Because my leg hurts from the hunt yesterday, and Jaskier taught me not to ignore my physical needs and that self care is important 🌺
Lambert: I hate that silly funky bard
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adinskyy · 2 months ago
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i believe in geralt's emo boy haircut sypremacy
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dwintu · 11 months ago
Jaskier, removing his multicoloured heart shaped shades: I beg your fucking pardon??
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dazedandinked · 2 months ago
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Jaskier wearing bright colors is my religion ~
This piece is a commission I made for @dunroamins and I loved every second of the process!
If you like my works and you'd like to send a request, please read my Commissions Menu here or send a DM - I'd love to have the chance to draw the whole Witcher Fam in this modern!au
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