#geralt imagine

[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound - Geralt

Spellbound - Geralt

Authors Note: I’m back because I quit my job and have a better schedule at the new job 

Warnings: semi smut 

Word Count: 4012

Description: geralt fights his feelings until you get trapped in a spell 

brothel worker! reader x geralt 

Enjoy!

Geralt was going to tear whoever did this to you to pieces. He would gouge their eyes out and make them eat them. 

That was just one of the thoughts that rang through his mind as he cradled you in his arms, your nose bleeding onto his now naked torso, the shirt you had torn off of him a mere moment ago nearly in the fire. 

This was not supposed to be how this happened, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He had made himself stay away for this exact reason, everything he loved was destroyed. 

The witcher had always been against you joining the group. 

You had been a brothel worker when you came upon Jaskier six months ago, walking the streets with achy legs from a long shift, smelling of the salt water you had bathed in when you saw a group of men holding him up and beating on him. 

A yell had crossed your lips and without thinking you picked up a log near your feet, launching at the men and swinging anywhere you could to scare them off, hitting a couple of them harshly before they finally scampered away leaving you standing in the mud with a log and the poor fool laying bloody and beaten on the ground. 

You had brought him to your tiny rooms at the brothel, helped him clean up and soon enough he was asking you to join them. You hesitated for a moment, watching him use one of your rags to dot at the cuts along his face before shrugging. 

Anything is better than the life of a brothel worker, right?

Wrong. 

Brothels didn’t have the annoying attitude of Geralt the fucking Witcher. Okay well some did since Jaskier admitted to Geralt being a frequent guest of them, but you had never seen him and you wished you never met him either. 

He spent every waking moment snapping at you, or blatantly ignoring you when you were trying to ask questions. It was either you didn’t exist or everything you did was wrong, and you could never figure out why the way he treated you bothered you so fucking much. 

Men had done far worse to you in that brothel, but Geralt giving you the cold shoulder nearly brought you to tears? What?

Then again none of the men that came to the brothel were like Geralt at all. None of them had those melting golden eyes or the firm touch of a protector, none of them could turn a sword in their hands the way he does or make anyone feel at ease in his presence. 

Well……anyone but you. 

Maybe he knew you had feelings for him, maybe he hated your guts. Many reasons why he never wanted to talk to you filled your head and none of them were good. 

You spent your days obsessing over a man that barely glanced back at you, your horse in the back of the group with Jaskier always a force between you both. 

Geralt takes a moment to tie the corset of your dress so you weren’t exposed before pulling you into his arms and laying you on his bed, moving to grab a cloth from the basin in the corner of the inn room. 

When he returns to your side he takes a chance to slide the hair from your face, swiping the damp cloth along the blood trail your nose left in soft strokes as he watches you sleep. He would make sure you were breathing and comfortable before he went out and broke some limbs. 

It had been six months of that behavior, and it was truly beginning to wear you down. 

The days were spent either passive aggressively ignoring him back for scoffing at any mistake of yours he pointed out. Today was a passive aggressive silent game. 

He had woken you up by snapping in your face and the months of travel and anger were beginning to catch up so you had slapped his hand out of your face, watching a small amount of shock fill his face before his eyes narrowed in anger. 

“You overslept….again.” In the beginning you would have a snarky retort, something mocking his breath or face, but now you merely rolled your eyes and turned your back to him as you packed up your bedroll. He doesn’t seem to understand your silent game since he tries to piss you off once more. “We are going to be behind if you keep sleeping like this.”

It would be so easy to turn around and tell him to shove off, but then he would know he had that effect so you simply picked you belongings up, fixed your boots and walked to the horses where Jaskier sat atop his own. 

The bard gives you a knowing look as you mount your own horse after fixing everything onto it, legs swinging with a natural ease and a slight warmth on your thigh. When you look down you see Geralt's hand placed on it, and you realize he had helped you up. “Are you angry with me? Or have you lost your voice?”

“Just matching the treatment given to me.” You snark, a feeling of pride in your chest when you see him all but snarl. You kick the horse into gear after that, this time taking the lead as his hand slips from your thigh and he rushes to Roach. 

By the time he catches up he makes Roach walk alongside your horse, his face furious. “The treatment I gave you?”

You hum out, moving to speed up your horse but Geralt is too quick, within moments he has the reins of your horse in his hand, pulling on them until you are close enough for your thighs to touch. 

“Answer me.”

You hum again, your heartbeat rising and you wonder if he can hear it when his eyes cast down to your chest before looking back at you. 

“Humming is not an answer.”

You hum once more, moving to snatch the reins but his hand reaches out to grab your jaw. “I need to hear your voice.”

You slap his hand away once more and snatch the reins, giving him a glare before moving forward. 

“I don’t understand.” He grunted to Jaskier later that day, fixing his travel pack on roach as the bard leans against the same post the horses were tied to. You had gone to the market to grab some necessities and when Geralt demanded to go with you he had been met with another empty hum and Jaskier had told him to back down. 

“She’ll avoid attention if she isn’t traveling with a witcher, not to mention she knows how to bargain for cheaper prices when she isn’t flanked by your glare.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He growls, watching the bard smirk.

“The market workers like the attention she can give them-”

“We agreed she didn’t have to do any of that stuff if she traveled with us.”

“She does this willingly, and even so it’s not the same as in the brothel. She doesn’t have to offer up her-” A heavy growl slips from Geralt and Jaskier chooses not to finish his sentence, instead rolling his eyes and moving to his own horse. “I think you would be better off if you just told her you love her.”

“I do not-”

“Oh hush. I see you watch her sleep every morn, then I see you yell at her for waking up late because you forgot to wake her up.” He laughs. “And I see you hover whenever she mounts and dismounts Lugo. Not to mention the way you give her the bigger rations of whatever we eat and-”

“Fuck off.” 

Jaskier takes the win and turns away from the witcher, fiddling with the lute while Geralt tries to make himself look busy. 

After a moment of silence the witcher stands quickly. “Why won’t she speak to me?”

A laugh escapes the bard once more. “Because you ignore her any chance you get?”

“I do not.” 

“Well I know that. But she doesn’t, because you never even bother talking to her. You’d rather silently pine like a lost-” He trails off when he sees you emerge from the hills, sacks of produce in your arms with a small smile on your face. “Fresh hells.”

“The men were ready to lose their money today boys!”

“Did they bother you?” Geralt growls and you give him a glare back before shoving the sack of apples into his chest. 

Once he is sure you are breathing properly he covers you with the blanket, before moving to grab his sword, careful not to wake you up. 

You spend the rest of the day simply ignoring them both, too busy being proud of the way you scammed the merchants and all you had to do was lift your skirt to your knee. 

Geralt kept Roach near your own horse, and Jaskier took the back for once, all of you traveling in silence until Jaskier begins to whine. 

“It has been forever since we slept indoors.”

Silence follows for a moment before Geralt turns to glare at him. “And Y/n just saved us so much coin we can each get a room in the next town.”

“This is true! I did!” You laugh, turning to look at Jaskiers mopey face. 

“Fuck.” Geralt grunts, turning back to the road so he doesn’t have to look at either of you again. 

Jaskier is still sitting in the hall with his lute, strumming softly in the drunken daze as the crowd they had gathered earlier has finally died down. 

“Bard.” Geralt grunts, trying to get his attention. But Jaskier doesn’t move, simply keeps his eyes closed as he plays a chord. So Geralt kicks his chin. 

The bard before him jumps up with a shout before his eyes land on the white haired witcher before him. 

“I got us all rooms and I found you in a hallway.” 

“I was merely resting for a moment.” He sighs, reaching down to grab the ale mug filled with coins he earned from his performance. “It’s hard to be a -”

The silver amulet is shoved in his face before he can finish the sentence, eyes widening as Geralt grunts. “Who gave this to Y/n?”

“The charming blonde who had been dancing with her all night while you sat in the back and glared.”

“Where did he disappear to?”

“You mean after you snatched her?”

By the time the three of you made it to the next town your ass was worn from the saddle and you were a bit wobbly when you got down, Geralt standing behind you and you scoffed as you looked at him. “Waiting for me to fall so you can lecture me?”

He opens his mouth to respond and you find yourself excited that he is actually about to answer back before he huffs and glares before disappearing. And once more you are left feeling like nothing. 

You watch as he disappears into the tavern before turning to Jaskier. “I asked around at the market…”

“About?”

“About work.”

“Ah!” He smiles, moving to lean on you. “And what did you find for our dear witcher to do?”

“Not for him actually.” Your throat tightens as you struggle to find the words. Jaskier doesn’t seem to catch on to your solemn mood. 

“Oh? A performance for me? I’m sure I can prepare a lullaby or two-”

“For me.” You interrupt, pulling yourself away from him and crossing your arms uncomfortably as he stares at you. 

“For…..you?” You nod at his question, trying to gain some power here. “What do you-”

“Madame Horchels brothel is in this town, she is famous within word and if I met with her then I am sure I would be set up with a room and a hot meal a day-”

“Why in fucks sake would you ever want to go back to that?”

Tears were welling in your eyes as he stared at you and you struggled to find words. “I am just……tired of feeling useless and pathetic……”

“So you would go back to whoring?”

“You don’t have to act so disgusted!” You snap, shame filling you at his reaction. “I never saw you complaining about my past when I was flirting with guards or-”

“I am sorry, I never meant to judge. I just think…..” He sighs out and rubs his face aggressively before moving to pull you into a hug. “It’s been a cold couple days. How about we go in and get a drink, a good night's rest in actual beds before we make decisions? Yeah?”

A hooded figure passes you both to get into the tavern and you simply shrug. “I think my mind is made up Jask.”

“I think it would be a mistake and we would miss you terribly……..okay I would miss you terribly.”

“Why would you miss her?” Geralt snaps out from a couple steps away, eyes squinted in an angry manner. He had originally come to snap at you both to watch your surroundings but had caught the tail end of the conversation instead. 

“Y/n here was just rushing a decision. But we aren’t gonna talk about that, right now a round of ale on me.”

“You spent all your coin two towns ago on new strings for your lute.” Geralt reminds, eyes never leaving your figure. 

“Then I shall make more coin!” He cheers, pulling you into the tavern and snatching the room keys from Geralt. 

Things escalated from there, and any time Geralt asked about their conversation they changed the subject and he was beginning to lose his mind. Were you okay? Why would Jaskier miss you? Why was he so worried about this? He watched you drink all night, ignoring him, and he watched as many of the men in the tavern asked you for a dance. He knew none of the men were a threat, and you knew how to handle them, even if it got out of control he could have his sword to their throat with a mere minute. So he didn’t really pay attention to your dance partners. 

 But one in particular caught his attention, the hooded figure that had walked too close to you both earlier had emerged from his corner and asked for a dance, and something in Geralt screamed for him to go and get you away. But he didn’t, instead he sat back and drank, allowing you room to have fun. 

The blonde stranger whirled you around and spun you and bought you drink after drink. Your eyes glazed over and your smile was wide enough to split your face, a jealous feeling crept into Geralts chest and the urge to punch the stranger grew and grew as Jaskier played song after song. 

“Can I get you another drink?” 

“Hmm?” Geralts attention snaps from your figure to the tavern wench beside him, giving him a small smile. 

“Another ale?”

“I think I am fine. Thank you-” She doesn’t wait, walking away since she didn’t get more coin and when Geralt sneaks his attention back to you he can’t help but slam his empty mug down. 

The stranger had you turn around with you lifting your hair as he placed an amulet on your neck, kissing your shoulder and before Geralt could stop himself he lunged to grab you. 

One moment you are giggling about the gorgeous, the next you are thrown over Geralts shoulder as he shoves the gorgeous fae away from you, hauling you up the stairs of the inn with no care. 

“Put me down!” You shout, slamming your hand into his back as he walks through the first hall then up the next flight of stairs. 

“You’ve had too much to drink.” 

“And you care why?”

“Because that man would take advantage.’ He growls. 

“Well he gave me a necklace, that’s how the business works.” You giggle, reaching up to touch the necklace but the world whirls once more as Geralt places your feet on the ground and pushes you into the wall. His hand stopped your head from hitting the wood but the rest of you was pressed between him and the wall. 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” You ask breathlessly, watching his face with adoration. Had he always been so…..

“Joke about that. You need something then I will get it for you.” 

“What if I want the prettiest jewels in the kingdom?”

“Then I kill more beasts.” He was dead serious and the hazy feeling was taking over so before you know it you find yourself leaning in to whisper “What is I want an orgasm?”

A red tint crosses his neck but his face remains serious as he leans his head against yours to whisper. “Then you ask me.”

And for a moment you can’t breathe, you find yourself aching, every part of you wanting to touch him suddenly. But before you can he whispers once more. “But not tonight. My first time with you will be sober.” 

Then the wood behind you disappears and you realize he had pressed you against the door to your room. Landing in a ball on the floor he sends a small smile before slamming the door and the heat that had filled you dims for a moment. 

But just for a moment. 

You pull yourself up from the floor, moving to the bed before the aching returns and your body heats up twice as bad. Everything begins going hazy as a sweat covers you and then you lose it. 

“I need to go.” Geralt snaps, shoving Jaksier to the direction of the stairs. “You go watch her. Don’t let her make any more mistakes.”

“Where are you- Geralt? What happened?! Hello?!” Jaskier calls after the witcher, watching him storm through the tavern before slamming the doors on his way out. With a deep sigh the bard grabs his jacket and mug of coins before making his way to find the rooms. 

It had been an hour since he left you in your room and Geralt could not relax himself. Jaskier had just stopped singing and Geralt was still pacing the inn room, back and forth back and forth. 

The aching hard on he had refused to go away, the image of your dazed eyes all he could think about, and the way you whispered to him had him so close to snapping all together. But he didn’t, and you were safe in your room with him just two doors down. But the floorboards creaking by his door caught his attention, and he reached for the sword as the doorknob jiggled. 

Stepping towards it slowly as it creaks open only to reveal you, standing in the hall in nothing but your dress slip and a flushed face. “Geralt-” You moan out and his knees nearly buckle when you rush in and slam the door. 

The sword falls from his hands so he can catch you when you come hurdling to him, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. Your lips melt into his and you moan in victory when he kisses back, pressing yourself against him as your hands fly into his hair. 

His own hands find purchase on you hips, and before he can tell himself not to he moves them to start a grinding motion the both of your would like. It stays like this for a moment until you bite his lip on a particularly aggressive moan, pulling back to catch a breath as you press your hips into his harder than before. 

For a second he admires you, the way your face scrunches up in pleasure and the moans that he is pulling from your lips, letting out a heavy ‘FUCK’ when you circle your hips. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” You gasp out, hands dragging from his hair to his chest before you start tearing the clasps on his shirt, scratching it a bit in your struggle to get it off. “Ineedyou, it hurtssobad-” 

This makes him hesitate, pulling back a little just as you fling his shirt, your hands flying to undo the slip and he finally catches your eyes. Only they weren’t the eyes he had fallen in love with, instead they were a deep red. 

“Y/n?” He asks, heartbeat racing as he snatches your wrists in one hand, the other coming to grab you chin. “Look at me.”

“Geralt, please. It hurts.” You whine and the gem in the amulet glows the same red as your eyes. 

Dread fills him as he reaches down to tear it off you, the silver cutting you a bit before he chucks it across the room. 

He couldn’t breathe properly as he watched you come down from the spell, anger filling him. You hadn’t meant any of this, this had been a spell. 

He was a fucking fool. 

“Geralt?” You breathe out, taking in the room before looking at his shirtless torso and the small scratches you had made to get the shirt off. “What-”

And just like that you were gone. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nose started bleeding as you passed out, he barely caught you before you hit the floor. “Fuck.”

You awake mid day- the sun blaring in through the blinds and you do your best to cover your eyes.  “Oh make it stop-”

“There are no covers for the window.” Jaskier sighs from where he is laying on the floor. “I tried stealing the blanket from you and you hissed at me.”

“Serves you right….” You mumble, taking in the room as you realize that last night hadn’t been a dream after all and a deep embarrassment fills you. 

“H-have…..have you seen Geralt?” You ask, leaning over the bed to look at him.

“He left around sunrise in a pissy mood.”

“Did he… did he say anything?” You felt like an utter fool, and you were doing your best not to be sick. 

“Said to watch you so you didn’t make any more mistakes.”  Jaskier shrugs before yawning. 

“He said that? He said mistake?” Your voice cracks as you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself. 

“He did. I assumed he caught you with the blonde gu- Y/n? What’s the matter?”

“I…… I have to go.” You rush out, jumping over him to leave the room. 

- - - - -

Geralt finds Jaskier waiting at the horses when he rides up, tired and cranky, and he gets even crankier when he sees that your horse is empty of all your travel bags. 

“Is she not awake? Do we need to get a healer?” He rushes out, launching from roach to get to the tavern only for Jaskier to hold the lute in front of him. 

“She woke up several hours ago, it’s nearly dusk.” 

“Then where is she?”

“Gone.”

“Gone?” His heart is racing too fast and he’s hoping that Jaskier starts laughing soon and this is all a joke. 

“I told her you said to make sure she didn’t make any more mistakes and she got really sad and started crying as she packed up.” He explains. “She went to this brothel and they wouldn’t let me in but they let her in and she came out to say bye soon after that.”

“She went to a brothel?!” He snaps, grabbing the collar of Jaskiers dress coat. 

“Don’t blame me! This is your doing!”

“How. So.”

“You were the one that made her feel worthless! Never looking at her and always in her business about her mistakes-”

“Her mistakes get her hurt, or worse, killed!”

“Then tell her that! Rather than yell at her all the time with no explanation-”

“Where is the brothel?”

“It’s no use.”

“Where. Is. The. Brot-”

“She made a deal! The madame owns her!”

“Not on my fucking watch.” Geralt snaps, mounting the roach in one fluent move before nodding to Jaskier. “Hurry.”

He had to get you. 

Part Two

#geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt imagine #geralt angst #witcher #witcher smut #geralt of rivia #witcher angst #witcher imagine #witcher fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher angst #the witcher smut #the witcher c reader #witcher geralt #henry cavill #Geralt Geralt Geralt #witcher season 3 #rory the frenchie

[joelslegalwhre]

Thank you sm! And thanks for the request love, i hope you like it <3

Destiny

pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!reader

word count⁀➷ 1.5k

summary⁀➷ Geralt finds you injured in the woods (more in the ask)

warnings⁀➷ soft!geralt, fluff, mention of blood and injuries, swearing (only once tho), use of y/n once

a/n⁀➷ As always, tell me if I missed a warning please!

🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷

You had expected this day to be different. You were supposed to help your uncle and learn more about herbology so that one day, you would know as much as he does about taking care of the people in the village.

Not lying here, on the slightly damp forest ground.

It would be a long walk back to the village, and your wounds and aches would not make it any easier. Your limbs felt heavy. Your body ached. And before you could fight back, you were defeated by tiredness.

Your eyes opened abruptly as you became aware of sounds coming closer and closer to you. A horse was coming towards you, on it an incredibly muscular man who looked familiar to you.

You had never met him before, but when he came closer and you saw his bright amber eyes, you knew who he was, what he was.

When he saw you, lying there on one of the big roots, he quickly got off his horse.

"Wait here, Roach." he told the horse.

Fear washed over you as he slowly approached you.

"Please, don't hurt me." Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. But witchers could hear better than ordinary people, he had heard it clearly enough.

The witcher stopped for a second and seemed… offended? He shook his head slightly and looked you in the eyes.

"I won't hurt you." His voice was low. Incredibly deep.

There was sincere in his voice, it almost gave you goosebumps.

He was terribly attractive, and his eyes both frightened and fascinated you. He came closer and closer to you and you could only follow him with your eyes. Your fear had eased a little, but it wasn't completely gone.

"It's not that bad," you said quietly as his eyes examined your wound. "I just need to rest a bit before I-" you made a hissing sound as he lifted the fabric covering the wound. "You are not fine." he grumbled.

He knew you wouldn't be able to walk one step on your own without collapsing. As the witcher walked to his horse and took an elixir-like phial from one of the pockets, he asked,

"What happened to you, who did this?" his voice almost sounded angry. But not because of you.

"I was gathering herbs. My uncle needs them to medicate the people in the village. And-" you had to swallow at the thought of the attack.

"There were three-three men. They were looking for someone." The witcher grimaced in anger, as if he already knew what they wanted.

"They wanted to know where the Butcher of Blaviken was."

He said nothing but an annoyed "hmm," his hand still holding the fabric so as not to cover the wound on your hip.

The witcher looked you in the eye, and up close, his own ones were even more special.

"Don't move." he demanded and you nodded. Then he dripped some of the elixir into the wound. It burned like fire.

"Ahh fuck!" you had to bite your lip to stop swearing. "It'll be over in a moment." He took your hand and nodded at you encouragingly. You squeezed his hand so hard that your fingers almost started to hurt.

"Breathe, can you do that for me?" He spoke so calmly and collectedly. You looked at him again, his gaze never leaving your face the whole time. Then you took a deep breath, as deep as you could under the pain. And as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone again.

You were breathing heavily and it felt like you had been running for hours. The witcher bandaged your wound and looked you in the eyes again. The fear you normally had of his kind, fear that was taught as a child, was now completely gone. If he hadn't come to find you, you would still be lying here now and would probably faint in no time.

He had saved you.

"What's your name?" you asked the witcher quietly as he lowered the bloody piece of cloth onto the tended and protected wound. He inhaled sharply. "It's okay if you don't-" you started but he spike over you. "Geralt of Rivia." He replied.

Your lips parted a little. You blinked in surprise as you looked at him. Geralt had gotten up and walked to his horse to put the vial back. Quietly you whispered, "The Butcher of Blaviken."

He turned to face you, "I'm sorry they attacked you."

You were astonished, because you didn't expect an apology. Actually, he had nothing to apologise about either. After all, the men were not acting on his orders.

You smiled at him weakly. Suddenly everything felt so exhausting, breathing, being able to see, everything.

"It's the potion," Geralt answered your unasked question. "It makes you tired, to heal your wounds in your sleep."

"Oh." you said softly, before you felt two strong arms lift you up. Then you fell asleep.

Geralt entered the small village on Roach, and you laying safely in his arms.

All conversation died down when they noticed the witcher.

However, when they saw you in his arms, some began to whisper.

„He's a witcher!" "What does he want with her?" "Did he kill her?" "Where did he come from?"

Geralt knew exactly where to take you. A healer was usually quick to find, but especially in such a small village. "Stop Roach."

He got down, careful not to hurt you.

Your uncle opened the door before Geralt could knock, but when he saw you, his face paled. "Y/N-" His gaze went to the blood on your coat then darted to the witcher.

"She needs to lie down." Geralt commanded. He looked at your uncle with a penetrating gaze.

"What have you done to her, Witcher?" There was hatred and disgust in his voice.

"I healed her." Geralt replied dryly.

He pushed past your uncle and quickly found what he was looking for.

He carefully laid you down on the small bed.

Your uncle hurried after the witcher, but when he saw you, he realised that what Geralt had said was true.

Your coat was bloody but the wound looked well taken care of. "I put a potion in her wound, it should work. She'll have to sleep for a while for that to happen though." Geralt sat down on the floor beside your bed and leaned his back against it.

Your uncle looked overwhelmed, but he knew well enough that there was nothing he could do now.

"Thank you, Witcher.".

"Hmm." Geralt simply replied.

While your uncle went to his herbs to make you some tea, Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

With a loud gasp, you woke up. You looked around in confusion, as you saw familiar walls and herbs, the ground was softer than before in the forest. As you slowly sat up, leaning on one elbow, you knew you were home.

Something moved beside your bed. No, not something, someone. Geralt stood up and looked at you with a soft gaze. "How are you?" he asked in his deep voice.

Your eyes went to your wound, or to the place where it had been. Your skin was completely healed, no cuts, no blood. You brushed your finger lightly over it, but it didn't even hurt anymore.

"Thank you." you whispered gratefully without really answering his question. "Thank you Geralt."

You stood up and in a matter of seconds you wrapped your arms around his strong torso. "Thank you." you mumbled into his chest once more.

Geralt was surprised, and at first he just stared down at you. You still had your arms wrapped around him when he carefully put one arm around your waist, then the other. He smelled terrible but that didn't matter right now.

He had saved you. You looked up at him, still in the embrace. Something in his eyes had changed, his look had changed. You didn't know what it was.

Geralt, however, knew, and he could not suppress it.

The way you looked at him without any fear, how you had thanked him so many times. Nothing even suggested that you thought he was the monster so many people saw him as.

Slowly his arms moved down your back. Your faces were so close that you could see the finest, smallest scars on his face. Geralt could hear your heart beating, not evenly but fast and irregularly. You looked into his amber eyes the ones that had even followed you into your sleep.

His hands pulled you closer and the moment, when his lips met yours, fast yet slow, hungry yet gentle, felt like time had stopped. As if there was only this moment, only the two of you. Your fingers played with Geralt's hair, feeling his strong neck and pulling him down even further towards you.

When you had to gasp for air and your lips parted, he still held you close to him. You bit your lip as you looked at him. Geralt exhaled heavily. "I don't believe in destiny," you whispered. "But you might've changed that."

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

#geralt x f!reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #the witcher x female reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill x fem!reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #e writes #e writes ‚the witcher‘ #em's masterlist

[angelltheninth]

Little Pleasures on the Road

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, outdoor sex, clothed sex, making out, groping, dry humping, coming in pants, nipple sucking

Word count: 0.6k

Kinktober Day 5: Dry Humping

A/N: Got to my man Geralt for kinktober! I can't stop thinking about him.

Geralt was already painfully hard by the time you came back from the waterfall, still in a towel and a little cold. You glanced over him with one eyebrow raised and chuckled, "I knew you'd peak. Pervert."

He hummed and smirked at the corner of his mouth, "I don't have to, I already know what you look like naked and wet." Geralt took a few long steps towards you, his hands just under your ass and lifting you up.

"Geralt! Your clothes! I'm still wet!" Both of you laughed, Gerlat's own slightly muffled by your breasts. Feeling his warm breath on your cool skin made your head spin just a little, causing you to fist your hands into his sleeves, the towel slowly falling from your body.

"I don't mind you being wet. But I really should help you warm up. Let's sit by the fire!" Geralt couldn't help the teasing smirk from gracing his face as he sat down cross-legged, siting you in his lap with the tent on the front of his pants. "Of course that's not the only thing I'm after."

You rolled your eyes, draping your hands over his shoulders and bending your knees slightly to draw yourself even closer, "I figured. You're really easy to read Geralt."

Instead of responding with words Geralt responded with his lips, pressing them against yours. You replied right away, parting them for his tongue and sighing into his warm mouth, your hips rolling on their own. Geralt's hands traveled your naked back, his rough fingers pressing and massaging, then traveling to your ass and grabbing a nice handful of your cheeks, driving your pelvis forward.

The rough material of his pants brushed against your clit, his cock throbbing and hot even though his pants.

"That's not just water is it sweetheart?" You didn't have to answer him, he already knew how wet you got for him, how easily you fell apart beneath his hands, his lips. How easily you spread your legs for him and his big cock.

You could imagine it clearly. Fully erect and pulsing for you, a thick pearl of cum sliding from the angry red tip and down the shaft, more and more gathering, forming a stain on the front of his pants the more his hips jolted upwards and you pushed them back down, only adding to the wetness.

Geralt's mouth travels down your neck, his teeth barely brushing against your nipples before closing his mouth around one, pinching and rolling the other between his fingers.

"You're so sensitive." He whispers against your hard nipple, licking over the swollen bud as he starts to buck his hips faster an faster into yours. You fist and pull onto Geralt's hair, guiding his mouth from your breast to your hungry mouth. As you lightly nip on his bottom lip you can feel him growl his release, his hips grinding wildly into yours, his clothed cock twitching against your wet cunt, sending you into your own orgasm.

He pulls away and leans his forehead against your shoulder, your combined heavy breathing, the sounds of the crackling fire and the low sounds of the wildlife in the forest. "I think..." You relax into his embrace, "I think that you're the one who needs to wash up now."

"Indeed." He tilts his head upwards, a blissful grin on his face as he offers, "Perhaps you want to join me?"

"To clean you up with my mouth?" You licked your lips deliberately, watching as his golden eyes follow. His cock gives another needy twitch, already hardening again despite him just coming mere moments ago. "I feel like you like that idea a lot."

Geralt doesn't even remove you from his lap, he just stood up, making you giggle. His hands braced under your thighs as he gave you a small, teasing peck on the lips before taking of in the direction of the waterfall.

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt smut #the witcher smut #the witcher x female reader #geralt x female reader #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #kinktober #afab reader #geralt fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #henry cavill fanfiction

[thewitcheress2389]

Hello! If you feel like it, could you write something for Geralt x reader? Reader is touch starved and doesn't want to initiate affection, but Geralt catches on bc she relaxes when their shoulders brush or when he pats her shoulder. One day he's had enough of her being so uptight, so he holds her and she just goes boneless with relief.

I relate to this so much Anon, putting my own feelings in this one❤️😂 Hope you enjoy! Sorry if it's jumbled, I was in a state when I wrote this XD

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A Witcher's Senses

You forget that a witcher has enhanced senses. Funny enough, Geralt doesn't really need them to figure out your problem.

Most men don't understand, but witchers are even more ignorant. They don't have the need to be held, the need to be touched. Not like a woman like you needs. And you don't just mean "touched" because not all touch is good. Some touch is selfish, uncomfortable, and lacking all mannerisms of a proper gentleman.

No. You want touch to be gentle, full of love.

Geralt was the only man that you could share this with-without his knowledge. Witchers weren't exactly ones for holding hands or exchanging hugs. The only affection they ever receive is from a one night stand that they paid for with their gold from a gruesome hunt. The closest you've ever been to Geralt with his knowledge is when you had to clean his wounds after a dicey encounter with a leshen or a werewolf.

But you needed more. You craved more from him.

"Y/N, can you tie up Roach." It was a command from Geralt, who wasn't looking at you as he handed you the leather reins. You eyed his hand, the way his fingers gently caressed the leather.

"Yeah." You said softly, reaching out to grab hold of the horse. And then, your fingers touched.

You lingered, lingered longer than expected. His skin was rough, but also very warm. You loved it, you loved the feeling that you haven't had in years. You didn't care that he was a witcher. He was still a man that had warm skin and a gentle aura about him. His touch made you relax. Softly, you began to smile to yourself.

"Y/N, Roach is getting anxious." Geralt's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you realized that he had let go of the reins long ago, his touch gone. You blushed in embarrassment when he finally heard Roach pawing the ground.

Mumbling an apology, you led the mare to a nearby tree, Geralt's gaze following you the whole way.

He wasn't stupid.

Jaskier might call him uncaring, ignorant, and hardy but the witcher was actually quite the opposite. He had better sight, better hearing, and a better sense of smell than most men. But even with all that, he struggles to read people sometimes. You were shy, didn't say much to him, but your eyes held so much emotion. But you, you were more obvious than you probably wanted.

When you pretend to trip and bump into him, your heartrate softens.

When he pats your shoulder after a fearful encounter, your muscles relax.

When you grab something from him and your fingers touch, your eyes glow and you smile to yourself.

You longed for touch. You needed it, but you didn't want anyone to know that. You were scared to initiate contact, which Geralt sensed when you were just around him. Your quick breathing, nervousness, and raised heartrate. You were uneasy because you lacked the touch you craved, that only he seemed to be able to give you.

Now with the knowledge he had, Geralt was confused. Why did you seek him out?

He was a witcher, covered in scars and years of abuse. He didn't know what a soft touch felt like unless he paid for it. Geralt didn't know how to give you what you wanted, however, you seemed to know. You were pretty, so it shouldn't be hard for him. Despite all the negative things that Jaskier has said about him, he always has mentioned that Geralt has more of a heart than most witchers.

Perhaps Geralt just needs to find that heart and give it to you.

So, one night, he did.

You guys were sitting by the fire, Roach was grazing nearby, and Geralt just got done putting things away. He then moved to sit next to you. Close to you. Immediately, his senses picked up your beating heart and nervous sweat. You weren't the only one nervous. Geralt was too. However, he cared about you, he knew what you needed and how he could give it.

The witcher scooted closer and placed an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

"Geralt?" Your voice was small, face extremely red. The witcher, however, was calm as he rubbed his calloused hand over your shoulder to soothe you.

"Shh...just relax." Geralt said and you did. It was like you melted at his warm touch. Every organ in your body immediately calmed down; your heartrate slowed, breathing slowed, and everything else just relaxed. You sighed pleasantly, finding yourself moving closer to him out of impulse.

"Why are you doing this?" You couldn't stop yourself from asking him, the warmth from both him and the fire easing you. The fire light flickered in his cat-like eyes as he swallowed nervously.

"Because I needed it. I needed your touch." He told you, smiling a bit. Relief seemed to fill in your eyes as you took in his words. Every time that you were afraid to initiate any form of contact was just your nerves getting the best of you. Geralt said he needed you, just like you needed him. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

However, Geralt said that to ease you, or that's what he thought.

But he found himself relaxing at your touch as well.

#the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher geralt #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speak."

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

"What makes you think that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

"They knew that there was a beast?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's outside the woods."

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I will keep her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

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

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

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

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

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

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [3]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: more creepy dream fuel, Geralt being slimy and having ulterior motives, and a little more tension with reader and her mother. all in all, i think you guys will enjoy this latest addition. as always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics​

The doe’s coat is as yellow as spun gold, and she blinks at you nervously as you approach. You cannot hide your childish squeal of delight, though it vexes her further. She nickers, shifting from hoof to hoof as she blinks at you with wide eyes. 

 “Papa, is she really mine?” You ask, your quiet voice heavy with awe. “She’s beautiful.” You hold out a hand, and her nostrils flare at your scent. Her long ears flick back, laying flat against her head behind her horns. They’re small—she’s young, barely a year old, perhaps less—and still covered with soft, velvety baby fur that you know will shed as she ages. 

 “Careful,” your father’s voice is ripe with caution. “She is new. Young, still, and a bit unwieldy.” You cluck your tongue at her, producing the sugar cubes you’d stolen from your mother’s tea tray from the sleeves of your dress. “I said careful—!” The doe leans forward, pressing her muzzle into your outstretched hand. You raise an eyebrow at your father, who shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh puffing out from between his lips. You stroke her head, running your fingers gently between her antlers and softly flicking ears. 

 “She about took Gaspard’s hand off this morning, she was so wild,” he says, shaking his head. “And yet she eats from your own as if you had weaned her yourself.” 

 “Did Gaspard try sugar?” You ask, giggling as her lips tickle your palm. “Perhaps she mightn’t have tried to amputate his fingers had he kept some of his salt to himself.” The wind shifts, and beneath the doe’s thick animal scent, there is something else.

 Something like sulphur and rotting meat.

 Your hand passes down the doe’s head, and her skin sloughs off beneath your fingers, leaving shiny, white bone behind. You gag, clapping a bloody hand over your mouth as fat flies buzz lazily out of her empty eye sockets. Wrong. This is wrong, it doesn’t happen like this—

 How does it go, again?

 Your father gifts you the doe, the golden doe, you are eighteen, you are a woman now, you will ride with him on the hunt, you will—

 “Su—gar swe—et,” Your father’s voice is the buzzing of a thousand glistening black flies, his tongue is made from them, wriggling in his wide open mouth. His eyes are children’s scribbles, black and writhing, and tears like ink drip from their corners. “It tasted like sugar—”

 It is then that you remember your father is dead.

 He is dead. He is dead here, because he is dead everywhere, dead and rotting and gone but not gone and you mustn’t listen, you mustn’t—

 You wake with a sharp gasp. 

 “—Princess?” The words dissolve into a static, meaningless drone as you are thrust suddenly back into consciousness. For a moment, the dream is still overlaid over the waking world like runny watercolor as you blink groggily in the dark. Beneath your trembling fingers, you can still feel the doe’s soft, golden coat—and the sharp, polished bone of her skull. With a sweaty palm against the wall, you retch, doubling over as you heave. 

 Nothing comes up. 

 The air around you is stale, stagnant, and the taste of dust and decay blankets your tongue as you swallow down lungful after panicked lungful. One thing is abysmally clear to you as you dizzily rest a hand on the cold stone to keep yourself upright—

 You are not in your rooms. 

 Where am I?

 “Princess.” The voice sounds again, and your head snaps about wildly, your eyes wide as you stare into the dark. The dream is still there, sticking the fringes of your waking thoughts like tar, and for a moment there are two voices, one made of dark black honey, sickly sweet, and the other the insectile buzz of a thousand glassy wings all beating in unison—

 “Wh-who goes there?” You ask, dragging the back of your hand across your quivering mouth. There is a sound like the sharp rushing of air, and all at once the room is lit with warm yellow light. You suppress a scream as your father’s withered, sunken face appears before you, his eyes like children’s scribble—you shut your eyes, closing them tightly as you whimper. 

 “A dream, this is a dream, a dream—” A cool, bare hand wraps about your wrist and you scream, pulling and fighting as fiercely as you can manage. “No! No! You’re dead—!” You cry, hysterical tears creeping out of the corners of your closed eyes. 

 “I regret to inform you, little sister, that I am very much alive.” It is not your father’s voice—not the dead—but your step-brother’s. “Despite your best attempts to dispatch me.” Slowly, you open your eyes, sniffling as you meet his gaze. He nods up at your balled fists, still trembling in his grip. You can feel the heat of him through his own loose night-shirt and your thin cotton shift, and your skin prickles as he licks his lips. 

 “Release me.” You say it with more confidence than you feel. For a moment, you feel your step-brother drag his thumb across your pulse point and cock his head, as though he is considering it. 

 “Will you strike me again, little princess?” He asks, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth. You scowl. “I did not plan for a midnight brawl.” You shake your head, your cheeks flaming. Geralt stares at you for a moment, like his golden eyes see something yours do not. As you prepare to make the demand again, he frees your wrists. You clutch your hands to your chest, eyeing him warily. The torch he has lit casts the long room in dim orange light, the flames dancing in his irises, turning them molten. It is the firelight, you think, that makes him look so menacing, so…

 Hungry. 

 You shiver, turning your gaze instead to your surroundings, squinting at the long stone hall in the flickering light. The cool, stagnant air is disturbed only by the sound of your quiet breath, which catches in your throat as your eyes widen.

 “Where…are we?” You ask, though you fear you know the answer already. 

 The walls are lines with alcoves bearing countless candles, stuck into the melted pools of wax left by their predecessors rather than into proper candelabras. And in neat rows in front of them… 

 Graves. Made of the same gray stone as the castle. Highly polished and clean, they are each adorned with ornate carvings of their occupants. You stare grimly at the rows and rows of polished stone, and wonder at how you might have possibly found your way here through the dark labyrinth of the castle. You think again of the dream, and gooseflesh rises again on your skin. 

 ”Did you bring me here?” You round on the prince, your brow furrowed. He chuckles in response, and the sound of it grates against you. 

 “Me? I merely followed you. In truth I had wondered why you would visit the catacombs at this hour. I thought perhaps,” his eyes narrow as a crude grin plays at the corners of his mouth. “A secret paramour, or—”

 “Do not confuse me with yourself!” You snap, wrapping your arms around your body as you shiver. The prince clucks his tongue at your ire.

 “Come now, don’t be cross, little sister,” Geralt purrs. “It wouldn’t have been proper to leave you wandering the hallways in your state of undress, muttering to yourself like a madwoman.” Your cheeks warm at his crude words, and you feel angry, embarrassed tears flush hotly into the space behind your eyes. You blink them back. 

 “I… have not walked in my sleep since I was a child,” you admit, looking down at the space between your bare feet. Geralt hums in response. Old Madge, in her half-blind wisdom had always muttered fearfully to your father about your nightly escapades. 

 A soul shouldn’t walk about at night, she would say, her thin, knobby fingers twisting strands of honeysuckle and dried lavender together into a long chain, one she would wind around your bed’s posts every night for a year until finally you stayed in it. A soul shouldn’t walk about at night. What’s it lookin’ for?

 “I fear I…” You shake your head, swallowing your concerns—they are not for him to hear.  “No matter.” For an instant, a look of disappointment crosses his face before it is gone again, leaving you to wonder if you had even seen it at all. “Thank you.” Your reluctance is palpable. “For waking me.” 

 “You’ve no need to thank me. Not yet.” His eyes glitter darkly. You swallow thickly, and they follow the movement, sweeping almost lazily down the line of your throat. “Let us go.” They flick back up to yours. “Unless you wish to spend the night here?” He gestures behind you, and you shiver again, shaking your head quickly. 

 “Please.” 

 You are grateful to leave the eerie silence of the royal catacombs behind you, following as closely as you dare behind the prince. His torch throws up strange shapes on the walls of the narrow, spiraling stairwell. You can feel the dream sitting at the edges of your thoughts, waiting eagerly to settle back over you like fog. You were not predisposed to bad dreams, and yet they seemed to be the only ones you have had since you arrived. You have been beset with dark thoughts, nipping at your heels like hungry dogs, no—

 Wolves. 

 The two of you emerge from the narrow stairwell into the empty chapel, and the vast hall echoes with your entry. The sconces are dark, and the robed, painted priests nowhere to be seen. The chapel is far less intimidating at night, the sharp features of the northern gods softened by shadow. Cold moonlight filters down softly through the domed ceiling, the colors pale and muted. For a moment, the perfectly round moon is framed perfectly by the pane of red glass containing Father Wolf, shining bright crimson above his head as you pass beneath it. 

 The choking scent of the incense is gone now, and only a trace of it remains in the still air. It is overpowered by a thick, musky animal scent that reminds you of wet fur. As the two of you cross the center of the room, Geralt hooks left, towards the wide, dark archway on the other side of the room. It gapes open like a toothless mouth, the stone floor sloping downward steeply into the dark. 

 You stop at the top of it, the warm air stirring the loose hair about your shoulders. Geralt turns to look back at you, raising a brow and cocking his head p as he lifts  the torch higher. There is a question in the tilt of his head, unspoken on the curve of his lips.

 Are you afraid?

 You are. The dank, pungent animal scent washes over you again, and you shudder. It reminds you of your father’s hunting dogs.

 “Come, little Doe.” His voice feels like cold fingers drawn across the back of your neck. “You need not fear the kennels this night.” 

 “I am not afraid.” You jut your chin out stubbornly, even as gooseflesh erupts along your arms. 

 “Good,” he purrs, licking his lips. “They can smell it.” Geralt descends down into the dark maw, and you reluctantly follow. Like most, you are no stranger to the rumors that leak steadily from King Vesemir’s halls; fantastical tales of furred beasts whose jaws were wide enough to swallow a horse whole. You clutch yourself, inching closer to the prince as the sloped path straightens out, opening into a massive cavern. 

 Geralt’s torch is little more than a pinprick of light in in the vast, unyielding dark. The warm glow only manages to dimly outline the shapes of natural stone pillars, throwing up misshapen shadows. There are still more passageways, little more than tunnels, littering the walls like pockmarks. For a moment, the light of Geralt’s torch throws a long arm across the chamber. 

 Reflected in it’s light are two, glowing orbs. Eyes, the size of dinner plates, their color impossible to describe. It was as if the eyes themselves were ablaze, glowing brightly, breaking the darkness. Over the rush of your own labored breath, you can make out the quiet scratch of claws on stone. It’s coming closer. The thought tightens your throat.

 You are powerless, paralyzed before it like prey. Are you prey? You suppress a whimper. There is warmth at your back, and you realize belatedly that it is  Geralt, so close his breath brushes the back of your neck. 

 “No fear, little princess. No fear.” 

 In less than an instant, the creature stands just beyond the ring of light cast by the prince’s torch. Faintly, you can make out the hulking shape of it; larger by far than any horse. Shaggy white fur, stained a rusty red around its muzzle, it’s ears pricked up and forward as it listens to the sound of your breath.

 “Hold out your hand.” You do, lifting a trembling palm in front of you as if to stop the wolf from coming any closer. The wolf’s lip curls, exposing the wickedly sharp tip of a fang. It sniffs at your hand, and for a moment, you fear you will draw back nothing but a bloody stump. Your shock is palpable when it presses the tip of its snout against your hand, whiskers tickling your palm. 

 “Incredible.” The word escapes with the release of your held breath. You stroke the warm, bristly hair on its muzzle slowly, your eyes still wide with disbelief. The dire-wolf snorts, claws tapping against the stone as it turns from you. As quickly as the wolf appeared, it is gone again, disappearing back into the dark. You remain as you were for a moment more, your arm still outstretched as you watch its retreating back with terrified wonder. 

 “Yrsil.” Geralt’s voice drags you back to the present, and suddenly you are aware of how close he is to you, the way his warm breath ghosts against the shell of your ear.  “The she-wolf. Her name is Yrsil.” You jump away from him, smoothing your hands down your shift as you eye him warily. 

 “Why did you bring me here?” The accusatory note in your voice appears to amuse him, further stoking your ire. “To frighten me?” 

 “If I wanted you fearful, I would not have needed the kennels to do it.” You clench your fists, glaring hatefully at him as he resumes his casual pace across the cavern floor. “Come, now. This is the quickest way back to the eastern wing of the castle. I would not lie to you.” You glare at him, your eyes narrowed.

 “Would you not?” You reply dryly. 

 “I am many things, Princess.” Geralt’s voice drips into your ears like snake oil. “But liar is not one I am eager to add to the list.” 

 True to his word, the two of you emerge from the kennel entrance in the throne room, the hot musk of below sticking uncomfortably to your skin and hair. You half expect the prince to take his leave, now that you are back in familiar territory, but he doesn’t. He keeps pace with you all the way back to your chambers. The heavy door is still slightly ajar, no doubt from your midnight venture. The prince places the lit torch in one of the empty wall sconces before leaning expectantly against the wall, his body partially blocking the doorway. 

 “Excuse me.” 

 He slowly tilts his head, fixing you with a questioning look. “I do believe there is something you are forgetting, my Lady.” He parrots Kassandra’s tone with irritating accuracy. “I know Redania keeps to the old customs as well as they can, however here in Rivia we do require a certain level of decorum.”

 You clench your fists in your nightgown. “What do you want, Geralt?” You ask, exasperated.

 “A kiss should suffice, little Doe.” He purrs. His golden eyes burn the same way they did in the gardens the night of your mother’s coronation. You shake your head in disbelief as you stare at him, your lips parted. 

 “Y-you cannot ask this of me!” Your repudiation is a shrill squeak. “T-tis  indecent, w-we cannot—!” You shake your head again. “The king will not allow—”

 “I think you will find, little sister,” he reaches forward to trace the pad of his forefinger along your jaw-line, “that it matters not what the king will allow if he is not present. Do you see him?”He pushes your head to the side, forcing you to look down the hallway. “I don’t.” This is the closest Geralt has ever been to you, practically pressing you against the wall, caging you in with his massive arms. You understand now, the message relayed beneath his words—you are in no position to negotiate. 

 “You are my brother!” You plead, but he is unmoved. 

 “In name only.” He leans down, twining a lock of hair between his fingers, tugging it gently. “My father’s sham of a marriage has remarkably little to do with me.” You press yourself against the stone as he leans closer. “Come now, little Doe. Let us speak truth.” He tugs gently at the satin ribbon at the neck of your shift and it falls open. 

 “What you saw in the gardens intrigued you,” Geralt traces a path from your chin to your collarbone, his fingers feather-light, “did it not?”

 “No!” His open amusement at your conviction is like cold water down your back. 

 “I saw, Sweetling,” he says lowly. “The look on your face—”

 “Fine!” You shrill, tearing yourself away from him. It is not true, it cannot be—and yet, your blood rushes through your veins, a thin tendril of that same shameful longing uncurling in your belly. The dark curiosity that had driven you to peer around the hedge all those nights ago surges with sinful familiarity, even as you try to stamp it out.

 You lean forward with a grimace, rolling onto the tips of your toes. The prince cups your chin, smoothing a finger along your lower lip. He is unprepared for you to turn your head sharply, your lips brushing against his stubbled cheek. It is only the quickness of your movement and Prince Geralt’s own surprise that allows your malicious compliance, and you dart away, ducking under his arm and through the slim gap in the door. 

 He snarls, reaching for you, but you slam the it shut, sliding the bolt into place with speed that surprises you. Your heart hammers against your chest as for a brief moment, there is silence on the other side of the door. 

 “Aren’t you clever,” he sneers, his voice muffled through the wood.  He tries the handle before letting out a muted curse. “Open the door.” Your silence earns you a dark growl. “Open it!”

  You jump back from the door, muffling the sound of your scream with the palms of your hands as Geralt throws himself against it. It shudders in its frame, and for a terrifying moment you fear it will burst open, revealing the enraged prince on the other side—but it does not.

 “Open it!” You shrink against the wall as he seethes, his threats echoing in your ears. The sturdy wood holds against his assault, and when he finally stops, you can hear the sound of his labored breathing on the other side. That too, gradually fades into silence, and cautiously, you approach the door. Somehow, though you cannot see him, you know he remains there, waiting. 

 “You will regret this night.” There is grim promise in his words. “Little sister.” The sound of Geralt’s retreating footsteps makes your shoulders sag with relief, and you collapse against the wall, your breath labored. Though you doubt he is still there, waiting to ambush you in the hall, you do not dare open the door again until morning—

 Just in case. 

 —

 “It is a beautiful day, is it not?” Your mother flutters her fan daintily as she basks in the warm end-of-summer sun. To her right, Lady Amelia, red-faced and sweating beneath her pale face paint, forces a smile through her obvious discomfort.

 “Oh yes, Highness.” She blinks as a cloudy bead of sweat slides down into her eye. “Lovely.”

 You know the noblewomen fawning over your mother would much rather be inside, sheltered from the hot sun by the cold stone of the castle. It was where you would have been, if not for the summons from your mother. You had spent the majority of the past week or so in your chambers, reluctantly leaving them only when strictly necessary in your attempts to avoid the prince.

 The Prince.

 At the thought of him, you cast a wary glance at your surroundings, looking for the telltale gleam of his golden eyes, or the shock of his snow white hair. Thankfully, you find neither. Crossing the patch of soft, green grass toward your mother, you perch impatiently on the end of the carved stone bench as you wait for her to notice you. You make idle conversation with her ladies as you wait, twisting your fingers nervously in the fabric of your skirts while you try to parse out your request.

 I want to go home. 

 “Ah, daughter,” she greets you, and you drop your head respectfully as she addresses you. “Come to enjoy the weather?” She gestures around her at the blooming garden. “I daresay we shall miss it soon enough.”  She stretches, the jewels adorning her fingers and throat shining brilliantly in the sun.

 “It is lovely,” you say, nodding agreeably. “It does remind me of home.” You curse yourself as the word slips from your lips. Instantly, your eyes fly to your mother’s face, watching for the displeasure you know you will see written in the stiffness of her smile or the narrowed slant of her eyes. 

 “Of Redania, you mean.” The soft curve of her lips belie the dagger sharp edges of her words. The smile you force in return is weak, trembling at the edges of your mouth. 

 “Y-yes. That is… what I meant to say.” You do not miss the way her ladies lean in amongst themselves, whispering. “D-did you wish to speak with me?” Though the day is unseasonably warm, and you yourself are surrounded by people, you feel small and cold and alone. Adrift. 

 “Must a mother need a reason to see her child?” She asks, rising gracefully from her seat. One of the servants rushes over with a parasol, but she waves him away, shaking her head. “If a reason must be given, I suppose mine might be that I have missed you.”  She loops her arm through one of yours securely, steering you off the patch of cool grass and back onto the garden path proper.  The whispers of her ladies follow behind you, biting at your heels they fade. 

 “I am your mother, and yet I cannot recall when last we broke bread together.” 

 “I have found myself quite exhausted, of late,” You mumble the half truth. “I fear the journey weighs heavily upon me still.” You suppress a shudder as you remember the dream, your father’s rotting face bloated with fat maggots—“I have not slept well.” 

 “Late night escapades do tend to be quite exhausting.” Her lips curve into a cold, knowing smile, and your belly fills with hot lead. Shame turns the blood in your veins to ice as your mother inspects her sleeve. A terrible fury rages beneath the placid surface of her pleasantries, and you cower in the face of it. 

 “M-mother, I—” The words will not come, leaving you floundering as your mouth opens and closes in silence. “H-he—”

 “Did you think I would not see it?” She spits. Disgust drips from the words.    “Would not notice his...” She pauses, her eyes narrowing as her mouth twists with displeasure. “Interest.” You swallow against the lump in your throat, knowing it matters not but still wondering who might have seen, who might have witnessed Prince Geralt raging at your door. 

 “Mother, I-I swear to you, I have done nothing—! H-he, I—I walked in my sleep, a-and he found me, I—nothing happened!” You hate the look on her face, like your pleas of innocence have only confirmed your guilt. “Nothing—”

 “Nothing?” Her lip curls. “You must know these games you play, all they have done is pique his interest.” She speaks as though somehow, you should have known better. “Men are stupid, willful creatures, desirous of what they cannot have.” She clucks her tongue at you. “Your father coddled you far too long—you are a woman grown! It is long past time you act like it!” 

 “Father would believe me!” You sob. Hot, angry tears spill down your cheeks.   “I am innocent!” Your mother stares at you coldly, before reaching forward to cup your chin. 

 “It is not your innocence I question.” Your mother’s voice is deceptively soft.   “It is your sense.” You blink at her through your tears, trembling. “My sweet, naive girl.” She wipes roughly at your tears with the pad of her thumb. The cold distance in her eyes splits you cleanly down the middle like a sharp blade. There is part of you that wants to fawn, to deliver honeyed words on a platter until her love shines down on you again like the sun—

 And part that wants nothing more than to flee. You want to ask—no, beg—for her to send you home, to return you to the walls you knew better than the lines on your own palms. Your mother embraces you, her lips brushing your cheek even as your own work silently. The words won’t come, like they are stuck in your throat. 

 “There should be only honesty between us.” Your mother says. “Understand?”

 I want to go home.

 Send me home.

 Please.

 “Yes.” You hang your head in defeat, the words retreating from your tongue.  

 “Good.” She chirps as she leans away. She is herself again, smiling affectionately as she brushes imaginary dirt from your dress, tucking loose strands of hair back into your fraying braid. “And you’ll tidy up for supper, won’t you? We have missed you at the table these past nights.” You clasp your hands together so tightly that your palms sting as you force a smile.

 “Of course.” 

 For a moment, just a moment, the warm breeze carries with it the smell of rot and earth, and you remember the doe, your father’s gift dead and bloated in the patch of hexweed in the woods. 

 It smells like sugarcane, but it isn’t, your father had taught you young. It smells sweet, but it’s not, understand? 

 Perhaps, you think, as you reluctantly follow your mother’s retreating back, people can be hexweed too.

to be continued…

next

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt smut #geralt fanfic #AU #medieval!au #medieval au #royal!au #royal au #dark fantasy au #GoT AU #darkfic #boxofbonesfic #Tonality fic

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Imagine Geralt being with a woman who is very soft and feminine.

“This is not what I’d expect from you.”

“What do you mean, Bard?”

“You’re sitting on a pink sofa, with a fluffy dog wearing a pink bow in your lap while you eat a cookie shaped like a flower.”

*looks at you lovingly while you busy yourself in the kitchen*

“I didn’t expect this either, Jaskier but… she makes me feel safe and loved. With her I don’t have to be The Witcher or The Butcher, I can just be Geralt. Also her baking is amazing and I love this fluffy baby in my lap more than I’ll admit.”

#the Witcher #the Witcher imagine #Geralt #Geralt x reader #Geralt of rivia #Geralt imagine #Geralt of rivia imagine #Geralt of rivia x reader

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

A Quiet Moment

Summary: based on some prompt that asked you to write a scene between two characters just being around each other with no dialogue. Immediately thought of Geralt.

Notes: saw a prompt on tiktok first thing I woke up and wrote this in a manic state. Enjoy :)

Taglist: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @lucyinthelibrary @sunndust

Masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Neither of you are talkers. That’s Jaskier’s job, who chatters away about songs, affairs and other dramatic states of the world while you’re on the path. And despite your quietness, there always seems to be some kind of noise around you. Singing, fighting, talking, murmurs – whatever it is, it’s never really quiet.

Always except for these quiet moments, when the people in the tavern below you have gone home and Jaskier is in a room of his own.

It’s been a long day of killing for Geralt and a long day of waiting for him in a town full of talking, prodding people for you. So when you hear him sit down on the bed, you let out a sigh of relief. The day is over, and there are a few precious moments the two of you have to yourself now.

Geralt doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, and you don’t need him to. Instead, you go through your supplies, and grab bandages and ointments. Then, you get a bucket of water and a rag and sit down in front of Geralt.

He stops your wrist gently as you begin to loosen a buckle of his armor, but there’s a pleading look in his amber eyes. Geralt isn’t used to help, but he desperately wants to be taken care of.

Moments later, he lets you go, and you take off his stiff leather armor. The dirty undershirt follows quickly, and you see the bruises and cuts you expected.

You begin with his face, as you always do, wiping away dirt, sweat and grime, as well as some monsters’ blood. Gently, you take out the leather band holding his hair out of his face, before you move onto his chest.

Geralt doesn’t wince when you clean the cuts that run over his body, unlike Jaskier, who talks to compensate for pain. He’s so used to the discomfort that it makes your heart wrench. Carefully, you apply the ointments Geralt would tell you not to waste on him if he had the energy. But he doesn’t, so you give him this ‘luxury’.

Taking his breeches off should be sexual, but Geralt simply closes his eyes as you treat the massive cut that made blood drip onto the floor. If you knew how, you would probably stitch it, but you don’t and Geralt’s not human, so you have to leave it for now.

When you’re done with all the cuts and injuries, you grab him some clean clothes and take his dirty ones to be washed. The washerwomen know you and Geralt from earlier contracts, and they know you don’t speak much.

They don’t mind. You’re kinder than most and you pay. You hand over his sullied clothes and make your way to the innkeep next, preparing yourself to speak. It isn’t easy for you, especially after such a long day, but apparently, Jaskier is your saving grace today.

The innkeep hands you a tray with two meals on it, and only holds out a hand demanding payment. You provide it, taking the tray with stew and ale on it and make your way back upstairs to the rooms.

Geralt opens the door for you before you can knock. Either he heard your heartbeat or your footsteps – or both.

He takes the tray out of your hands and puts it down on the bed. You raise an eyebrow at that, since Geralt is normally unwilling to eat in the place he sleeps. It smells too strongly, he told you once.

You follow him, and he pulls you into his side, handing you a bowl. It’s cold, but you don’t mind. Geralt eats his as if he’s starved for weeks, and you can’t blame him. It does mean that you’ve barely taken three bites before he’s done.

His head is on your shoulder while you finish your dinner, washing down with a few gulps of the ale that has been stretched with water. You scrunch your face at the taste and a smile tugs at Geralt’s lips.

Before he can try to get out of bed, you collect the dishes and put them in a corner of the room where the rats won’t bother you.

On your way back, you can feel a sharp tug in your neck, and before you can stop yourself, you grimace. You hope he hasn’t noticed, but Geralt’s eyes flit up to the afflicted area immediately.

He doesn’t let you protest in any way – the moment you sit on your side of the bed, his hands are on your neck, working out the soreness in a way that would seem too gentle for a Witcher. When he’s done, you give him a smile, and he grunts in return.

The gestures turn into words in your head as you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Geralt blows out the candle on his side of the bed, before he wraps an arm around you.

He won’t sleep for quite a bit, so you stay still in the dark, feeling his hand stroke over your back and head absentmindedly. He does it with Roach too, to calm her down. You know he does it to calm himself aswell, and it feels nice, so you let him.

When his movement stills, you turn around to him, gently cupping his face, and giving him a kiss. It’s your ‘I love you’ before you go to sleep, and he returns it with his forehead against yours.

You can feel the tiredness creep in now, where all sounds but your breathing have stopped. It feels like the world has come to a stop, in the best way possible, and you cherish it. Feeling the warmth of his body against yours, your thoughts come to a stop and the only thing around is silence.

It’s a holy and rare commodity to you – one of the only things that doesn’t grate on your senses.

And as you fall asleep, you feel the Quiet in your bones. Tomorrow, early in the morning, it’ll be gone, but for now, the two of you are at peace.

#geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #geralt imagine #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia x reader

[mywrittings]

destiny / geralt of rivia

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Staying at Kaer Morhen was an unexpected event in your life. After getting a room assigned you realize the room actually belongs to someone whom you'd often see by chance... or because of destiny?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4.5k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: 18+ ONLY! dirty talk, kissing, pussy eating, handjob, riding him, him fucking you... basically smut

a/n: hello everyone! I have been writing this for a while now but I have finally finished it! This story has a lot more dialogue and I hope you don't mind that. Also for anyone that is still waiting for my next chapter of lust series, it's coming! I am still in the process of writing it. Anyways hope you like reading this one!

Vesemir had called up on you to come stay at the Kaer Morhen for a while. Since it was winter time most of the witchers returned to this place to refuel and relax, your job was to keep the order and help with making elixirs. It was a sudden decision from Vesemir, an emergency to be precise. With many more blood hungry monsters, he wanted to make sure that all the right elixirs would be ready by the time winter is over, so naturally you were the best mage that knew how to make them without needing any recipes.

He showed you to your room where you would be staying for the next upcoming weeks. All the rooms at this place seemed the same but for some reason this one was way bigger than the rest. It had a lovely window that overlooked the training station outside, a large bed that looked comfortable, a fireplace to keep you warm and a small wardrobe. It almost felt like this room did not belong to Kaer Morhen but rather an inn.

‘’Get some rest, tomorrow I’ll tell you what you’ll need to do.’’ Vesemir said his goodbyes to you as he closed the door behind him

You had a long journey ahead of you today as you also made some stops in between, hence why your muscles were aching. You were desperate for a bath but weren’t so sure where you could find one. Also since it was winter outside, the weather completely changed. Snow took over the entire property, the leaves fell off the trees and the once green grass was covered in its entirety.

Stepping out of the room you walked along the many hallways that lead to different rooms while others lead to other rooms that had equipment. With each door you opened you kept getting more and more upset - there was nothing. All there was, was just a bunch of random stuff that didn’t really have a place or a pile of junk. 

Feeling even more devastated than before you decided to return back to your room. The night by now has fallen, as the lamps lit up the place, making it feel more cozy. The chatter coming from downstairs was still up and about. After all it was the first day, when most witchers returned to their home, so it was only fitting for them to catch up with one another. 

As you open the door to your room you suddenly scream out loud, while covering your eyes.

‘’What are you doing in my room?!’’ you exclaim at the figure that was standing by the bed, with their shirt off

‘’Your room? This is my-...’’ and in that moment you recognize his voice as he does yours

‘’Geralt?’’ you put your hands down but still keep your eyes closed shut

‘’What on earth are you doing here?’’ Geralt asks as you hear him make a step

When it comes to Geralt, you very well knew who he was. The greatest witcher of all times. The best hunter for monsters. Most of the time alone or accompanied by his friend Roach. He always did what he had to do and he did it perfectly.

But when it comes to you two, often your destinies would collide with one another and whenever you’d see each other, there would be tension between you too. You've always thought you did something to him since he gave you the strangest look when you first met. As a result, you automatically did the same to him.

‘’Just put on a shirt first!’’ you extend your arms out, as a way to prevent him for coming further even though he only made a step to turn to you

‘’Why would I? You are in my room, you barged in here.’’ he argues back and you hear the shirt shuffling in his hands

‘’Excuse me?,’’ you let your hands down ‘’Vesemir had told me this was my room while I’m staying here.’’ you point to the ground as you hear Geralt snicker

‘’Staying? Are you staying here?’’

‘’Yes? Did you not see my stuff I put in the wardrobe?’’ your eyes were still closed shut as you hear the door of the closet creak open

‘’Why are you here?’’ he asks, closing the wardrobe ‘’And also you can open your eyes, it’s not like I had my-...’’

‘’Okay!’’ you squeal quickly, opening your eyes to see Geralt wearing a black linen shirt that was tucked in his pants

‘’Do you mind leaving now?’’ you gesture to the door

‘’No? It’s my room.’’ 

You really did not have the time to argue with him but you did not wish to give up the room under any circumstances. If this was someone else asking for their room you’d give in already but since it was Geralt that was off limits.

‘’Geralt, I do not care if this was your room it’s mine now.’’ you point to yourself 

Geralt huffs in annoyance, throwing his head back as his hands were on his hips. You now understood why this bedroom was his. He was the best witcher out there so I guess it was only fair to give him best of the best, as he caught many monsters and dealt with different quests. But you knew how other rooms there were. Most had a small bed with no fireplace and there were even rats around as nobody really took care of that. 

‘’Then we share it.’’ he suggests and your eyes open wide

‘’Share it?’’ you were in disbelief that he even said that

‘’I’m afraid all the other rooms are occupied.’’ as he says that you peek your head out to the hallway and notice that sure indeed all the rooms were full as light came from each of them under the door

When the winter comes around all the witchers return back to this place to have some rest as there aren’t many monsters at this time. And when they do return this place is full of chatter, laughter and them sharing stories among one another. But you did not understand why Vesemir gave you this room if he knew it was Geralts.

‘’Can’t you sleep somewhere else? You could share a room with another witcher?’’ you look back at him as he gestures ‘no’ with his head and that’s when you thought that maybe it was unfair of you to just kick him out of his room that he earned fighting along many different creatures. However you were still going to stay in this room no matter what.

‘’Fine but what about the bed?’’ 

‘’I’ll take the floor.’’ he answers as he rushes past you out of the room

You watch him leave unsure as to where he was headed but in the meantime you decide to get ready for the bed. You took the duvet off and quickly jumped in, tucking yourself in afraid he was going to change his mind.  

Soon Geralt was back in the room with a pillow, a duvet and a fluffy carpet. He closes the door before throwing everything he held on the ground. The carpet he placed on the floor which you realized it was for him to lay down but given the fact he was tall and bulky, the carpet practically disappeared underneath him. You watch him fiddle with the pillow and the duvet, tossing it one way and another, he was getting frustrated. 

‘’Geralt.’’ you call to him and at first he doesn’t acknowledge your voice

‘’Geralt.’’ this time you said it louder and finally grab his attention

He whips his head and pierces his eyes into yours. You knew this wasn’t a way for him to sleep, especially because you did not know how long you were going to stay here. It was weird as you had some pity for him but then despised him, still you knew how hard they work and how desperately they need their sleep to recharge for the next season.

‘’We can share the bed.’’ you offer as you scoot over to one side and he just looks at you confused

‘’Just a few minutes ago you didn’t wish to share a room with me and now you want to share the bed?’’ 

‘’I do not have time to bicker, take this side of the bed or have fun sleeping on the creaky wooden floor.’’ you turn your back to him, taking half of the duvet covering your body in it

For a second there it was quiet, there wasn’t a single sound to be heard until the floor slowly creaked from behind you. A ‘Hmm’ left Geralt’s mouth before you felt the bed dip, the weight of the bed shifts as the other part of the duvet is being thrown to you. 

‘’I got mine.’’ he shortly says as you hear his covers shuffling before he settles in the comfort of the bed

The setting was strange, sharing a bad with someone you did not like. Every little move he would make with his body the bed would creak but that didn’t bother you as the weight of your eyes took over you and you fell asleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night you began tossing and turning as you were starting to get cold. The fire in the fireplace burnt out and the room suddenly changed temperatures. The duvet wasn’t doing you any justice as well at that point. Your body was freezing underneath it and because of that you were unable to sleep even though you were exhausted. But you weren’t the only one that couldn’t shut their eyes.

‘’When do you think you’ll stop?’’ you hear Geralt’s raspy voice

‘’When I get warm.’’ you didn’t even turn around to him, instead just mumble that under your breath. You wanted to start the fire in the fireplace but you didn’t have the will to get up and get even colder so instead you decided to shut your eyes and tried not to think about the coldness and eventually the sleep took over you.

Some point a little later in the night you had to switch sides and you had completely forgotten that you were sharing a bed with Geralt. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes slowly to find his yellow golden gaze staring at you. He didn’t say anything once the two of you met each other's gazes and suddenly the only thing you could hear in the room was you two breathing.

‘’Why are you looking at me?’’ you whisper, as your eyes were half open now, holding onto the duvet in your hands

‘’You are the total opposite when you sleep.’’ he remarks in his low voice

‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’You don’t say much. You’re quiet.’’ Geralt said while you narrow your eyebrows at him

‘’Fuck you.’’ you lift your head off the pillow as you say that, Geralt just snickers back at you

‘’Such pretty lips saying all that filth.’’ he all of the sudden says and you widen your eyes at him. His were fully focused on you now, wavering around your eyes to your lips. You could feel your heart beating faster and faster and you weren’t sure why you were having these thoughts.

‘’Huh?’’ 

Geralt quickly closes the distance and places his lips on yours. It was such a gentle kiss, without any strong pressure. He let his lips remain on top of yours for a few seconds whilst you closed your eyes, unsure how to respond. 

His lips leave yours before he returns, significantly stronger this time as he removes his hand from beneath the covers and softly places his thumb beneath your chin. You now respond by spreading your lips as he leans in and you kiss him back.

He moves himself closer to you as his hand begins traveling down from your face to the back of your head before pausing at your lower back. You too took your hands from beneath the covers and delicately touched his face with your fingertips. You could feel his rough skin along with his stubble he had not shaved. His hair tickled at your skin once he deepened the kiss by slipping his tongue in your mouth evoking a moan out of you. His tongue danced with yours, every now and then he’d pull away just to kiss you again before going back in to bite on your bottom lip, everything was becoming more heated.

‘’Geralt…’’ 

‘’Yes?’’

‘’What are we doing?’’ you confusingly ask once you two stopped kissing

‘’Kissing each other.’’ he replies, as his thumb traced your lips

‘’But I hate you.’’

‘’Oh you do? Show me how much you hate me then.’’ he says quietly, his eyes were yearning for more you and the desire inside of you, it was like a spark that was waiting for a while before it ignited, that’s when you swiftly remove the duvet and straddle him

Your legs were on the side of him and he immediately put his hands on your hips. But first he assists you in removing  your dress as you help him get rid of his linen shirt. Your breathing hitched once you felt something hard underneath you, poking at you but it felt good.  You lower yourself to him, just inches away from his lips hovering over.

‘’Kiss me.’’ he orders before you close the gap and kiss him hard. Geralt’s hands came back at your hips, aiding you to move and you felt your pussy getting increasingly wetter and wetter each time you’d feel his cock twitch underneath you

"For someone that was visibly annoyed by me, your hard cock is saying otherwise." you add in between kisses.

That’s when he backs up and within seconds he moves you away from himself. He gets out of bed but turns around to face you, his knees slamming into the bed frame. His massive cock jumps out as he quickly takes his pants down. As you were on your knees, staring up at him, he drew you closer and grips your neck.

‘’Open your mouth.’’ he urges and you don’t even think twice because you wanted him, you needed to taste him in your mouth and you didn’t care about anything else

You do as he says and he shoves his cock in your mouth, while keeping his hand on your neck.

‘’That’s more like it you fucking cunt. Got you all quiet now huh?’’ his dirty talk had your pussy throbbing and you wanted so badly to touch yourself but Geralt had a different idea

‘’Put your hands behind your back.’’ he instructs, eyes watching you as you keep taking him in your mouth

Geralt began moving his hips back and forth, as you bobbed your head to the pace he was instructing. Your eyes were looking directly at him as he threw his head back once he placed his hand to the top of your head. 

‘’You take this cock so fucking good,’’ he growls as he takes his dick out of your mouth ‘’stick your tounge out.’’ you obey him as he slaps his dick on your tongue, repeatedly before putting it back in your mouth

He was fucking your mouth, his head went back once he pushed it all the way and that caught you off guard. Your entire body was in a state of euphoria, that feeling of him completely within your mouth was driving you mad. You loved his taste.

‘’Fuck, that feels so good.’’ he purrs as he takes his cock out and a trail of saliva comes out of your mouth. Your lips were red, swollen from how much he pounded his dick in your mouth.

His face lowers to you and he crushes his lips on yours while making sounds. He tugs and licks at your lips, his hand resting on your face and you couldn’t keep your hands away from him. You had to touch him. So you tug at his hair as your other hand pulls him closer, causing him to collapse on top of you. He didn’t seem to mind that as he began slowly grinding on your pussy.

‘’Look how fucking wet you are cunt.’’ he says mid between kissing you as you feel his hard cock, grazing over your wet pussy. Both of your hands were now in his hair, his were at the either side of your body, holding himself up as his cock was drenching in your juices.

‘’Geralt…’’ you mutter his name 

‘’Mmm, yes princess?’’ you feel his finger on your pussy and you jolt in your place

‘’What did you want hm?’’ he asks, his voice so sinful, wishing you to have more of him but you couldn’t make up any words. It was difficult to talk while he was playing with you, a cocky expression on his face knowing he had every inch of you he desired.

‘’You need to tell me princess, so I know what I need to do to make you feel good.’’ he leaves a trail of wet kisses along your jawline as your eyes roll back from the feeling

‘’I…I want your…’’ you gulp and lick your lips as Geralt watches you with hungry eyes ‘’I want your mouth on my pussy.’’ you finally croak out and he kisses your lips before going down to your legs.

‘’You want me to lick your pussy?’’ he opens your legs further apart, getting access to your exposed dripping cunt. His arms wrap around your legs holding you in place before dipping his head and licking a strip up your pussy.

‘’Like this?’’

You nod as he snickers and goes back in, flicking his tongue repeatedly, up and down in any direction he could think off. His tongue was velvety making you fill up with pleasure. He looked so handsome this way, the window from the roof was shining just enough on him, outlining his back and arm muscles. His hair was falling at his face and his eyes would occasionally peek up at you.

As you glance further down his body you could see his hard cock, jerking every time you’d moan or call his name. Just thinking about him being inside you made your body melt, you felt tingles from your spine traveling throughout your body. 

Geralt seemed to take notice of your eyes as he smiled in your pussy ‘’Do you want something else, I can give it to you.’’ he removes his tongue off of your cunt and retrieves his body back to yours, as he licks his fingers before locking his lips back to yours. 

‘’Yes.’’ you whisper, unable to control yourself

‘’Do you want my cock?’’ he says as he glances down and reaches for his cock, taunting you with his tip at your pussy

‘’Yes.’’ you were pleading by this point now

‘’Do you want me to fuck you?’’ 

You bit at your lower lip, he was driving you insane. His tip alone was enough to make your brain dizzy, let alone his deep voice, which sent shivers down your body every time he talked to you dirty.

Finally you nod and he pulls you closer to him as he enters you, slowly at first, filling your insides. He was big, you could feel every bit of him, stretching out your walls. You gasp out loud, your back arching, clutching at the sheets as Geralt muffles your sounds by kissing you. 

‘’Shit. Such a tight little pussy huh?’’ he asks, as he moves in and out of you. You were clenching around him, he knew where to find the right spot, your moans were the response to his movements.

The room was filled with sweat, moans and Geralt’s grunts as he began moving faster. He leaves your lips and grabs at your legs, placing them around himself as he was on his knees. As he’s holding at your legs, he keeps going faster and faster. His body was glistening with his sweat, his perfect v-line flowing down to his cock, while he pummeled into you, flinging his head back.

You were still grasping at the sheets, closing your eyes in between, nobody has ever made you feel this good. You could feel your pussy pulsing from his cock around your walls, his cock fit perfectly in you.

‘’Come here.’’ he suddenly says as he pulls you to himself and smother’s your face with his lips. He was kissing you all over your face, his tongue was licking at your cheeks, it’s like he wanted to devour you from head to toe - you tasted sweet to him.

Geralt then lays down on the bed and has your back facing him. He helps you as he eases you onto cock,holding you and fucking you again. Your hands were trying to support you but because of him you didn’t need to do so. You didn’t mind this position, the only issue is that you couldn’t see him and the sight of him in this state made you wet all over again.

He leans you back into him, your back now colliding with his chest as his head pops across your left side, where he turns your head and kisses your lips. His lips were hot, as he sucked and pulled at them. His hand slithers down your body to your pussy. You had no idea it would make you feel even better, but it did. He began circling around it, driving you insane.

‘’Geralt…fuck.’’ you moan unable to control yourself

‘’Only I can fuck this pussy, you understand?’’ 

‘’Mhm…’’ 

‘’Say it.’’ he demands as he kisses you again

‘’Only you can fuck this pussy Geralt.’’ you repeat and he smiles into the kiss

‘’Make me cum with this pussy.’’ he says as you squeeze your pussy, knowing it would drive him over the edge and you were right

‘’Cum with me.’’ he lastly says before you feel his heart beating faster

Geralt’s hand is continuing playing with your pussy as you feel him twitch inside of you. His cock was pulsating as you felt yourself getting filled with his warm cum. His lips were pressed to yours, he was groaning in your mouth, you moaning back into his. Both of your bodies went to a new state. Your vision went black once you reached your high and the sensation overtook your entire body. 

‘’Fuck.’’ you cry out, biting your lip while arching your back

His heavy breathing slowly came at ease but your body was still buzzing from the orgasm he just gave you.

‘’You’re shaking.’’ Geralt says as he takes his cock out and quickly places you at his side, wrapping your body with the duvet. He pulls you close to himself, wrapping his arms around your frame to keep you secure and in place.

‘’Geralt, did we really just fuck?’’ you mumble and feel his hands caress your back

‘’We did,’’ he takes a moment to look at you ‘’do you regret it?’’ he asks, his eyes speaking to you

‘’No, I don’t. Do you?’’

‘’No. I always wanted to be inside you.’’ 

You playfully bump your head onto his chest and giggle as you see a smile on his face as well. He removes a strand of your hair away from your face and places a soft kiss on your lips.

‘’So all you needed was to fuck me and suddenly you don’t hate me anymore?’’ you say, as you trace the features on his nose

‘’The only thing I hated was that this pussy wasn’t mine. Until today.’’ his hand moves to your ass where he slaps it and right after squeezes it

‘’When did I say it was yours?’’ you joke but he slaps your ass again making you jump in your place

‘’This pussy is mine. Only mine.’’ he kisses your nose before nuzzling you back into him rocking you with his body

It felt so good laying with him like this, the warmth wrapping around you and hearing his breathing was the perfect combination to make you fall asleep but not before he said ‘’Our destinies always seem to be colliding Y/n.’’ that made you think of all the other times you had seen him. Sometimes you’d see him in random places, unturned areas yet and he’d be there. Each time you’d see one another, each time your eyes would be different. But it never came to your head that this all was in fact destiny. It never came to you that the feeling you had was true - you wanted him to be yours.

‘’You are right. Maybe we belong to one another after all.’’  you reply and his hands came to your face, lifting it up

‘’Not maybe, rather yes, we do belong to one another.’’ the sides of his mouth lift upwards and he leans in kissing you but with the biggest passion yet

“I never hated you.” he suddenly says as he keeps his hands around you and takes his eyes up the window on the roof “I wanted you, each time I’d see you I felt something in me, it was pulling me in to you.” he licks his lips before continuing ''But I always thought to myself 'Why would someone like her wish to be with someone like me'.” he looks back at you, his eyes were heavy and sleepy

''Someone like you?'' you scoff and sit up ''Do you know how strong and amazing you are Geralt? You are the most powerful witcher out there,'' you point to the window ''there is no one that could beat you.''

Geralt takes your hands in his lap and sits up with you ''That's all I am Y/n. I kill monsters and get their blood all over me. I reek of their smell.''

''You are protecting us. Protecting the people. Without you, this world would have eaten us by now.'' you boop his nose with your finger and he grabs your hand, placing it himself on the side of his face and the weight of his head falls into your hands

''You are such an extrodinary woman Y/n. I'm sorry if I was...''

''Grumpy? Annoying?'' you cut him off and snicker

''Yes. I was trying to push you away for my own being which was a very dumb decision...'' he wavers off, he was troubled by this

''I mean I did the same to you, only you did it first to me and then I did it and then I thought 'what did I do wrong' because you were always so mad when you'd see me and I-...'' Geralt stops you from talking as he smashes his lips onto yours, breathing in your scent

''You're mine Y/n. That's all that matters to me now. I have you.''

#geralt x reader #geralt x you #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #geralt smut #geralt imagine #geralt rivia x reader #geralt x rivia smut #the witcher smut #the witcher x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #the witcher x reader

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again…

It was another busy day where knights, men and women of all corners came in to rest their battle-weary feet and drink mead. There would be the occasional brawl but they were nothing when you compared it to battling a cursed wyvern with a blindfold.

You exited the back room having just refilled the pitcher of cool mead when a familiar grunt caught your attention. Just behind a rowdy table of farmers, in the corner, sat the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia - and a bard who was far too chipper while sober.

Inching a little closer, you busied yourself with empty flagons while remaining within earshot of the pair.

“Come on - it’s not a bad lyric. Ah, what do you know? You can wield a sword but not understand the complex meaning behind a beautiful string of words.” The bard said.

Geralt scoffed. “It wasn’t complex.”

An old man slid a few coins across the table for the service which you pocketed and then moved on to the next.

“We can’t stay long.” Geralt told his companion. You glanced back briefly and saw the brightly dressed man staring into his coin satchel, concerned.

“I could swear there was more silver in here. Geralt, I think I’ve been indecently swindled.”

You wanted to confirm that the man could easily have fallen prey to the notorious pick-pockets that haunt the tavern but you stayed silent, now distracted by a customer who ordered some pies.

“Don’t forget the carrots this time.” He reminded.

You wanted to tell him where to shove his carrots but heard your name being shouted from across the floor.

“Y/n, I need a word!” It was the tavern owner who enjoyed paying you less than what you were owed. With a sigh, you trudged over to him away from most prying ears. “You’ve been waiting on those tables long enough. Deliver those pies and refill goblets on the double or I’ll show you out the door.”

You had half a mind to bite back but chose to hold the words at bay. In ten minutes, the pie was ready to be collected from the kitchens. As you walked it to the table, you made the decision to confront Geralt but upon approaching his table, found that the Witcher and his bard had vanished, leaving behind some coins for the hospitality.

Geralt would have heard your name being bellowed. He would have seen you answer the call. And yet, he still left?

Typical!

The farmer who had ordered the food found his plate empty as you swerved around his chair and rushed out the wooden door. Turning left, you followed the small path down to where riders often tied their horses, your own being one of them - spotting the familiar silver hair and lute of the bard.

Words appeared to have failed and rational thoughts had abandoned your mind the second you fled.

Your hand flipped the pie out of its casing and with one, well-aimed throw, found its mark. The bard screamed and the Witcher stopped in his tracks instantly stilling for a few seconds.

Then he turned, his jaw clenched. “Did you throw a meat pie at my head?”

You tossed the empty pan over your shoulder. “You bet I did and I’ll do it again.”

The bard at Geralt’s side grabbed his guitar and hid behind the broad-shouldered man fearing that he would be next. “Oh, they’re pissed. What did you do?”

Geralt exhaled as he pulled stray bits of pastry out of his locks. “I’m not sure…”

“Not sure? You fucking ignored me in the tavern! Friends for years and it doesn’t warrant a simple ‘hello’?” You yelled.

Jaskier peered out from behind, “Oh, he’s always like that. We’ve been friends for several weeks and he pretends to hardly know me - such a jest.” He chuckled to himself quite fondly.

Ignoring the brightly coloured song man, Geralt addressed you, now free from the discarded food. He had indeed acknowledged the your presence the minute he set foot in the tavern but found himself reliving old memories instead - some good, others painful.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that business with the striga.”

“The striga?” You repeated, remembering the event he was referring to where he had taken claim over the beasts defeat instead of giving you proper recognition. “That was over a year ago, I was bitter for perhaps a few weeks but no more. But you wouldn’t know that because you ran off with Roach.”

“I didn’t run off - I just - you were injured and I had no reason to hang around while you healed.” The Witcher explained. “In hindsight, I probably should have checked in.”

You nodded vehemently. “And since you didn’t, you’re very deserving of that meat pie.”

“The pie was mean.” Geralt frowned.

“Oh a tale of a strained but beautiful friendship filled with battles and miscommunication - you must regale me with the details.” Jaskier grinned.

You would gladly do so if your old friend would have your company once more. Raising a brow at Geralt, you posed the silent question.

“Don’t you have a job?” Geralt asked.

You squinted in return. “I abandoned my post and stole a pie. I’m surely fired.”

“Fine - but only until the next village.” The Witcher negotiated, knowing full well that his friend would likely be staying for a longer time. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up on his horse with a small grunt.

You shared a similar grin to the bard and sent a high whistle into the air to call forth your own steed for the journey ahead.

When the horse approached, you took hold of the reins and walked alongside Jaskier.

“While we’re on the topic, I’ll tell you about the time when Geralt fought an ifrit almost fully naked.” You winked and caught the eye roll on your friends face.

Jaskier pulled his guitar to the front and strummed a few strings to start a catchy tune. “Oh, I’m ready for this.”

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #witcher x reader #witcher imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #jaskier imagine #jason x reader #jaskier x reader #geralt of river x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

[ultralightpoe]

Spellbound Part 3- Geralt of Rivia

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

Word Count: 3093

Description: Part One and Part Two

Warnings: Heavy smuttt y'all

Enjoy!

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

Every human had a beginning, middle and end.

Every monster had a beginning.

Every Saint had a beginning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Allow you?”

“To bathe you.”

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

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

“You won’t jest?”

“Never.”

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

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

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

“Not me. You.”

“You, with me.”

“I do not want to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About kings and dragonslayers?”

“No, about monsters.” 

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—------------

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

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

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

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

Finally you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then how-”

“Yennifer smuggled you out-”

“Then what of the coin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop what?”

“This will ruin everything-”

“How. So.”

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

“Do you love me?”

“Y-”

“Do you love me as I love you?” 

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

“Then what does it matter?”

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

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

“I was cruel and-”

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

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

The warmth fills him the second you touch him. 

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

“You deserve better.”

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

“You want me?”

“I need you, Geralt.”

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

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

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

“After what you have been through…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So….. fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll never leave again.” 

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

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

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

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

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

—-------------

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

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

“Not your lover, but your closest friend.”

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

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

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

“He took little one to get some water.” 

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

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

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

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

“Don’t get any ideas.”

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

“Guess your spellbound then.”

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

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

@sagelovesreading

@lashipperrubia @freyafriggafrey @cookielovesbook-akie @whatishappeninghere81 @livesinfantasyland @multiifandomhoe @amara-75 @unfxrgetwble @vlynccx @redlovett @yorkeylover @mxtokko @readinggirl29 @mollymal @fullmoonshadowwrites @rileytwenty @glasschampagne @caffieneaddictt18 @kittiowolf210 @purple-blommie @abrunettefangirlnerd @babezawa @mushy-mushroom04 @miss-goldenweek @pookiesnatcher @thslvr @cardi-bre91

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

[cinebration]

Only Ours (Geralt of Rivia x Reader) [Request]

Geralt x fem!reader. Old friends find each other again after many years apart. Used to be lovers or almost lovers (up to you) that parted ways due to circumstances out of their control. They still care for each other a great deal and reminisce about their past together and what could've been. Can end up together or not. Not looking for angst per se, more just wistful, bittersweet tone. Thank you!—Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: lamberts

In all the taverns in all the world, you walked into the one Geralt had been forced to take refuge in to give Roach a rest and to escape the rain. He noticed you first—not because he saw you, but because your familiar scent constricted his chest and made his nostrils flare. Glancing up from under his damp hood, he tracked your movements across the tavern as you went up to the barkeep and slapped coins onto the bar, calling out an order of thighs and a flagon of ale.

The barkeep happily obliged.

Balancing your plate in one hand and clutching your flagon in the other, you surveyed the dearth of available tables.

Geralt tensed as your attention moved closer and closer to him. The pain in his chest tightened, made it hard to breathe. He desperately wanted you to notice him, while at the same time he wanted to hide.

He remained frozen.

Your gaze passed over him, then shifted back, recognition dawning instantly. A faint, tentative smile pulled on your lips as you slowly made your way over.

You looked better than he remembered. He didn’t understand how—you were no sorceress—but the fact remained you did. He pushed off the hood as you reached the table and set down your dishes, your eyes never leaving his.

“Geralt,” you murmured, surprise and hesitation in your mellifluous voice.

He murmured your name back, the sound of it sacred on his lips. He hadn’t spoken it since you last parted years before.

“It’s wonderful to see you,” you continued, your voice still soft, as though afraid to spook him like a deer. “How long has it been?”

“Eight years, give or take.” The rasp of his words sounded worse than usual, perhaps worse.

“Closer to nine, I think.”

And Geralt knew you had been counting, just like he had.

Staring down into his tankard, he watched the foam shift as the liquid sloshed underneath it. The din of the tavern faded to the background, all his attention arrested by your presence. The smell of you, the close proximity, made his head spin.

“You look good,” you said.

He chuffed a laugh. “For a right bastard.”

Chuckling, you bit into the chicken thigh, chewed as you scrutinized his face. He wondered what you saw there, anxiety sparking beneath his skin the longer you looked. Would you see the Butcher of Blaviken, the White Wolf? Or would you only see him, as you always had before?

“I hear stories of hard times for you.”

A chill slithered down his spine. “Still a mind reader, I see.”

“Your eyes don’t lie, Witcher.”

Grunting, he shrugged and covered his expression with a long swallow of his ale.

“Well, there’re stories of hard times for me, too,” you added when he set his tankard down. The momentary flicker of a haunted look in your eyes made his fist clench tighter around the tankard. “But I’ve no interest in recounting those and ruining the evening.”

“I’m told talking helps,” he noted dryly.

“Not here.” You gestured with your chin at the other patrons in the tavern. “Prying ears and all that.”

He nodded. “What do we talk about, then?”

A sly smile pulled at your lips. “Did you ever find that griffin?”

Snorting, he shook his head. “Low-hanging fruit, mind reader.”

“What? No reunion is complete without mention of the griffin!”

“Give it a rest.”

“So I take it you did not find it.”

“No, I did.”

You waited for an elaboration. The faintest smirk touched his mouth. “You didn’t take it out, I know that. I would’ve heard, what with that bard immortalizing you and whatnot.”

He remained silent, enjoying the agitation building up in you.

“Pfft. If I had to guess, you found it and got new scars for your trouble with no head for a prize.”

The smirk faltered.

“I knew it!”

“Mind reader,” he groused, but his eyes were bright with amusement.

“See, should’ve had me by your side for that. Maybe I would have taken its head while you gave it new meat to chew on.”

“Hardly. You would be lucky to snatch a few feathers.”

Clicking your tongue in disagreement, you countered, “No way am I doing that again.”

“How disappointing. I rather enjoyed watching you prance around.”

You laughed. “I bet you did!”

Geralt offered another chuffed laugh, feeling himself filling with the warmth of your presence and the brightness of your smile. Neither had he ever forgotten, but his memory didn’t compare to the flesh-and-blood vision before him.

“I’ve missed you,” you said, reading his mind once again.

He didn’t know how to answer that, the tightness in his chest making it hard to breathe, let along speak. You nodded as though you knew his response, however, and offered him a smile that threatened to shatter him.

“I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

You glanced up from your plate, then shrugged. “We didn’t have a choice, Geralt.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not an acceptable one.”

“Acceptable varies by degrees.”

“I know,” you whispered, staring down at your food. Shaking your head, you looked back up at him, regret fading into a rueful smile. “But it didn’t kill us, the separation.”

“Something died.”

Silence weighed heavy in the space between you.

You sighed quietly. “Things are what they are. I’ve accepted that.”

He grunted, not trusting his words.

“Still, sometimes I think about…I never did work up the nerve, did I?”

“Your nerve was never in question.”

“I’m not blaming you. I could have taken the initiative as much as you.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “We both were too afraid.”

You nodded, the rueful smile returning. “Funny how much that fear pales in comparison to the things we’ve seen in the last few years.”

Grunting again, he lifted his tankard and met your gaze. Lifting yours, you clinked the metal cups softly, the ringing sound of their meeting subdued.

“I’m surprised the bard doesn’t know the story,” you said after swallowing a sip of the ale. “Our story, if that’s what we can call it.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not? It’s exactly the kind of thing bards would kill to sing about.”

“Because it’s ours,” Geralt growled. “Only ours.”

#Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia imagine #Geralt x Reader #Geralt #Geralt imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #The Witcher #requests

[angelltheninth]

Size kink + smut prompt 13. “Think you can handle that much?” with Geralt? i think it would hurt but I wanna try and take him.

No reason why you can't try but you're not gonna be able to walk after.

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, size difference, size kink, teasing, dirty talk, encouragement, pet names (honey, darling)

A/N: I need more Geralt in my life, don't you?

13. “Think you can handle that much?”

"You've been staring at me for a while darling. See something you want?" Geralt knelt above you with his cocky smile, his shadow looming over you, falling around his shoulders while he looked down at your naked form. "I certainly do. Been wanting you for a long while now."

The evidence of that was right between his legs, and yours. His cock, even bigger then you imagined, wet with his pre as he ran his hand up and down. His other hand pushed your folds apart, his thick thumb finding and teasing your hole, testing the waters.

"Think you can handle that much? If not there are other options we could try." He seemed genuinely concerned about you, and with your difference in size it was no wonder.

"Geralt." You cupped his face, gently at first and then grabbed fistfuls of his white hair and pulled him down, your lips inches from his, "I've been wanting you inside me for months now. Please, I can take you, I swear I can." You opened your legs further, as much as you possibly could, "Please, I really need it."

"My cock? Hm. Needy aren't you honey? Who knew you weren't as pure as you seemed." His hands wrapped around your wrists and pulled you towards him. His cock slid over your pussy and clit, hot to the touch, your clit twitching at the stimulation. "Ever had one as big as mine?"

"No." Some work was gonna be needed to get him inside of you and you weren't sure if you could take all of him. No matter how hard you tried your body had it's limits, "Give me as much as you can, I'll take as much as I can handle."

"That's my girl." He kissed your forehead, drawing a little giggle from you, and then a chuckle from him. "Relax as much as you can, I'm gonna have to open you up a bit, so it might hurt at first." It was seriously touching how soft he was being. It almost seemed like the man who fingerfucked you so many times was just a dream.

You groaned and whimpered, fists clenching while his broad head pushed past your entrance, your walls clamping down on him, resisting the intrusion. "Sorry. You're... its big so..."

"I know." He kissed you again, his hands rubbing over your knuckles, "Take your time, I'll wait."

Breath after breath it became easier to take him in, your pussy opening up for him, letting him slide in a little more. "Geralt- so b- mmn!" His hips jolted forward a little, his cock rubbing along your walls. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes from the sting of the stretch as he finally bottomed out, "Fuck! Fuck, give me a moment. God." You ran your hands through his hair, his warm, solid body a comfort, his kisses relaxing and riling you up at the same time.

"You're wonderful darling. You're doing so well. Your cunt is doing so well, feels nice around my cock, feels right." He felt right. Him. You let out a long breath after a while, not even knowing you were holding it in. At that very moment he moved forward, barely even shifting his hips, "We just need a little practice. Pretty soon you'll be taking me like it's nothing."

Practice. Well... your pussy was a muscle. Makes sense it would get better with training. "Looking forward to you teaching me." Geralt chuckled at your words and enthusiasm, as well as the excited flutter of your pussy around his cock.

Practice makes perfect, and he was all to happy to be your training partner.

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt smut #the witcher smut #the witcher x female reader #geralt x female reader #the witcher imagine #geralt imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #afab reader #geralt fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #henry cavill fanfiction #smut blurb

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Destiny

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: You had to give up on some things when you decided you wanted a life with Geralt, but life has a way of turning things around.

{The Witcher Masterlist}

The nights are starting to grow colder as fall starts to fade, ready to turn into winter. Your small garden in front of the house is still flourishing, even though only a few flowers are strong enough to give you their beauty. So, kneeling on the ground, you pluck some weeds and clean off the dead leaves. The place will be less colorful for some months, but if you keep taking care of them, they'll come back at full power next spring.

You hear horses coming, and a wain. Not many people come this way but some residents of the nearest town since they know this route. Taking the small basket with the weeds and dead leaves to dispose of, you get up. The two horses come into sight and the wain soon after. The couple on it are familiar to you. You buy their carrots, potatoes, and broccoli.

“Good morning.” The man says, not smiling, but with the same respectful expression he always gives you.

“Don't talk to her.” The woman says. She's too young to be his wife, you see it now. His daughter then, but you don't know which one. “She's the wife of that –”

“Hush.” The man says.

“Good morning.” You reply, waving. “Safe journey back home.” Then, you give them your back and head inside.

You throw the weed and leaves on the fire before heading to the kitchen and starting to cut some vegetables for soup, trying not to let the loneliness bother you too much. You knew this was how things would be, but even so, even though you'll have to deal with the cold nights by yourself, it's all worth it. You'd do it all over again.

Passing the sweet potatoes to the pan, you're about to reach for the carrots when you hear it. A low, faint sound of a step on the wooden floor right next to you. Your body moves almost by itself, the grip on the knife getting tighter, but even before you can turn around and give hell to whoever was bold enough to invade your house, a strong arm surrounds your waist at the same time a hand grabs your wrist.

“I was expecting a much warmer welcome, my love.” His voice is what makes your body relax, but your heart, which was already beating fast, starts pounding.

“Geralt?!” You breathe out, dropping the knife and turning around.

Seeing Geralt after two months makes your body almost melt. Immediately, you throw your arms around his neck, your lips chasing his. Only seven months into the marriage, you only had Geralt with you for three. But you don't mind. You love him, and you knew things would be like this. It's the price of marrying a Witcher. A price you're more than willing to pay.

Geralt kisses you tenderly, and you can feel all of his love in it, the warmth, the thirst from all this time away. So you just hold him tight, even when you're both out of breath and have to break the kiss.

“I thought you'd take longer to find that monster.” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“Ouch.”

“It doesn't mean I'm not happy. I'm... Delighted. Euphoric.” You give a little jump, kissing him again, then placing kisses all over his face as you stand on your toes. “You just scared the living hell out of me.”

“Just wanted to make a surprise. And I hurried with the hunt because the nights are cold and I made a vow to keep you warm.”

“Hm... So let's start by drawing you a very warm bath.” Smirking, you start to walk away, but Geralt grabs your arm.

“Draw us a bath. And let me get the water.”

“I can do it.”

“I know. But I'm your man. Let me do the hard part.”

You don't really enjoy bringing the water inside, so you don't complain.

Minutes later, the bath is ready, and the tub is set in the bedroom as usual. First, you washed with hair and body, and after, Geralt insisted on changing the water so you could get in. And you didn't say anything after the short explanation about how exactly he killed the monster and how some of its guts got on him. So when the new, hot water is ready, you join him in the tub. The temperature is perfect, and you rest your back against his chest.

“I never thought I'd have a real home to spend the winter.”

“Oh, you're supposed to go to that place for the winter. Kar Mare? Kor More?”

He giggles. “Kaer Morhen.”

“Kaer Morhen, yes. I don't mind if you have to go there, I can take the journey.”

“We could make a short trip while the winter hasn't kicked in yet, just so they know I'm still alive but... I have a home now. A real one. And I rather spend my winter with you than with those ugly men.” His embrace grows tighter around your waist, and your smile. “But tell me about you. Anything exciting happened while I was away?”

“Yes! I delivered a baby all by myself.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Marlën was with another mother in difficult labor. So when Alyn started feeling the contractions, I had to go.”

“And how was it?” Geralt always asks about your things, even though they're nothing compared to the amazing adventures he lives.

“A bit of a mess, I was so nervous.” You chuckle, turning around to look at him. “The husband passed out. He was holding a bowl with water and then he just fell, got the floor all wet.”

“Hm.” He mutters, looking down.

“What is it, my love?”

“You love this. And you love babies and children, and you'd be an amazing mother but I–”

To cut him off, you place a kiss on his lips. “Geralt, I knew of this limitation when I married you. And yet, here I am. And I wouldn't change a thing. I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, a small, sad smile on his lips. “I love you too. But it breaks my heart that I can't give you children.”

“Just give me all your love. That's everything I want.” And with another kiss, you both leave the tub and head into bed.

•••

When you start to stir, you feel Geralt moving. He always wakes up first, and then, he just lies there, holding you, looking at you.

“It's so good to wake up next to you.” It's the first thing you say, moving to climb on top of him. “I missed this. I missed you.”

Geralt smiles, softly grabbing your hips. “I dreamed about you almost every night.”

“Well, I'm right here now.” With a smirk, you lower yourself on him, your lips already chasing his.

Loud, obnoxious knocks make you sit back up. “I'll see who's there. Dress up.” Geralt says as he gets up, searching around for his clothes.

You put on the first gown you find, a white one, that you use to sleep, before following Geralt.

“I'm sorry...” You hear a woman's voice, low and anxious. “...died... Has no one...”

When you get to the door, you see Marlën, with a bundle of fabric in her arms. She passes the bundle to Geralt, who takes it as if it's the most fragile thing. You're about to reach the door when she turns around to leave, walking fast. She didn't even see you.

“Geralt, what's going on?” You ask, walking over to him, staring at Marlën's back. “She seemed so distressed...”

Then, a low, soft whimper gets your attention. Looking up at Geralt, you find his eyes locked on something in his arms. It's unbelievable how long it takes you, you, a midwife in training, to realize the sound came from a baby.

“Geralt, what...”

“She said the mother died... That he has nobody left... That a wet nurse will come twice a day with bottles of milk. I don't...” His voice fades when the baby opens his eyes, moving a tiny little hand up.

“Geralt, I think... I think she meant us to raise this baby.”

He looks at you, and you meet his eyes. Geralt's eyebrows are pinched together and... You've never seen him so emotional. Only when you confessed your love for him. “Raise him? As if–”

“As if he's our own.” Stepping closer, you take the baby's hand. “She knows I always wanted a child... And that I gave up that dream because of my love for you. So...”

“Do you think I can do it, (Y/N)? Do you think someone like me can be a father? A good one?”

Smiling, you take your free hand to caress his cheek. “Remember when you asked the same thing about being a husband? I told you you'd be a good husband.” Your smile grows wider. “And you proved me wrong by being an amazing husband.” The baby moans, and it sounds a little like a giggle. “If you agree to do this, my love... It'll mean a commitment for life.”

“A family.” He says, and then a smile breaks through his lips. “A family of our own.”

“Yeah... A family of our own.” Tiptoeing, you kiss him before caressing the baby's forehead. “Seems like destiny is on our side.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Geralt moves the baby up a little, so he can place a kiss on his forehead. And the scene brings tears to your eyes.

“You deserve it.” Moving to stand next to him, you exchange a look with him before focusing on the baby.

“Guess we'll have to leave Kaer Morhen for next year.”

“And next year, we'll introduce them to a tiny Geralt.” You add, as your heart is filled with bliss. Life has a way of turning things upside down for everyone. But this time, it just was putting things into their places. And you're excited to see where it leads you and this perfect little family you have.

#imagine geralt of rivia #geralt imagine #geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fanfiction #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

[thewitcheress2389]

Could you write a story where the reader's whole body aches, but reader keeps it secret from Geralt? I personally have a health issue so I've terrible pains especially in the mornings...

I'm sorry to hear that! I hope you enjoy this story then!💖

And sorry for the long wait...I've been feeling down for a while and going through some stuff, so sorry if things ever take a while. I have other stories on other blogs I'm still sorting through as well, but I'm posting this now cause I feel bad. Stay lovely everyone, and I hope you feeling happy and having good times!💖

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Body Aches

In hopes to not worry the witcher, you try to keep your body pain to yourself. But you forget that a witcher has such keen senses.

You woke up the same way every day, with painful aches all over your body. There was no reason that you could entirely pinpoint that would explain it. You've done nothing taxing to make your body do this. It was just something that has become a part of your daily routine.

But you kept it to yourself.

Geralt stayed with you. Your house was a sanctuary that he could come to rest and heal, and because of that, you didn't want to worry him with any health issues that you had. The witcher had enough to deal with when it came to beasts and demons, and you saw how he was when he came back. Tired.

He didn't need to worry about you, especially when your demon couldn't be hunted down and killed.

But no matter how hard you try, keeping it secret wasn't exactly an option.

You woke up that morning, trying your best to not wake Geralt, who was asleep beside you. Your whole body ached to the point that moving even a bit caused you to whimper in pain. In truth, you were quiet enough that you figured that no one would be able to hear you, and you could keep this a secret for a while longer.

However, Geralt was a witcher.

"Alright. I've had it. What's wrong?" Geralt's voice caused you to scream and nearly fall off the bed, making more pain shoot through your body.

Turning around, you noticed that it looked like he just woke up. White hair disheveled, sweat from whatever nightmare or hot dream he had, and he was still shirtless. However, his eyes were clear, like he had been awake for hours.

"W-What do you mean?" You tried to play it cool, keeping your muscles as still as they could possibly be. But it was hard, and Geralt saw right through you.

"For hours now you've been shuffling around, uncomfortable. I could hear you whimpering. And it wasn't just this morning either." Geralt said and you wanted to go and hide yourself in a hole. He's known, and it's been for days.

You forgot about a witcher's super human hearing. You blushed in shame.

"So, I ask you again...what's wrong?" Geralt pressed further, sitting up more to look at you. You played with your hands a bit before sighing.

"It's just...my body aches randomly. I don't know why or how or what to do about it." You confessed, tucking some hair behind your ear. Geralt nodded to himself, remaining calm.

"Why not tell me?" He asked. It was a fair enough question, and you figured you had a fair enough answer. However, with the way his cat-eyes were boring into you, you thought otherwise.

"I didn't want to worry or burden you...you have enough going on." You told him and he fought the urge to tell you otherwise because your feelings were valid. But still, you shouldn't need to keep secrets like this.

"I was going to worry either way, but now that it's out in the open, I can help." Geralt said, moving the subject along so you don't dwell on any guilt or other feelings you might have in this situation.

You gave him a perplexed look.

"No offense Geralt, but you aren't exactly Mister Healing Hands. There's nothing that can be done." You said in defeat, knowing this is exactly what would happen. He would find out and want to help, but there is none. No healer could make it go away, so why could he.

"I can't, but perhaps Triss or Yen can." He offered the assistance of the sorceresses, and you smiled faintly. You didn't want to bring them into this, but perhaps magic would be your answer.

And Geralt looked like he wasn't going to back down.

"Thank you..." Was all you could say at the moment, and that's when Geralt laid back down again.

"Good. Now, let's try to get a bit more sleep. If you can't, please tell me this time." The witcher said, and you agreed before slowly moving to lay beside him.

You thought it was good to keep this to yourself, but you felt such a weight off your shoulders knowing that he not only knew, but that he cared as well.

With his assistance, maybe the pain can finally go away.

#the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher 3 #the witcher geralt #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia

[mandos-things]

Still Here - Geralt x reader Angst

Relationship : Genderneutral!reader x Geralt

Warnings : angst, fluffy towards the end, mentions of crying, emotional distress, mentions of smut (nothing explicit), 18+ (read blog bio)

~~~~

The air was stuffy and thick, the humidity of your nightly ventures caressed your skin ever so slightly, rousing you from your slumber.

You groaned, arms stretching as much as the headboard would allow. You did not dare turn around, for fear of what you might see. Or rather, of what you knew you wouldn't.

You could count on one hand the number of times you've tangled up with the White Wolf. And every time, every damned time, he would pretend nothing had happened. Apathy came as naturally to him as breathing. At least, when it came to you.

By night he sang, like the angels of the heavens above, whispering promises of something more in the aftermath of your passion.

And when the time came....nothing.

He would leave, long before you woke. And you would be left to scramble for the pieces of your heart he held the night before. Held, and moulded...caressed and loved. Come morning- broken and shattered -

You should've learned your lesson. Should have...by now, you think, it should've been so easy to walk away...to tear his hands from your hips and let him go. Pull on your shirt and pick up your boots and just leave-

But you couldn't. Not when he kissed you like that - like he's making up for every love he's never had, like he's afraid to lose you...like he loves you-

You push the though away. No use in torturing yourself first thing in the morning.

Yet still, you don't stop yourself from feeling- one tear, two, make their way across your face, as you attempt to hide among the sheets and pillows - as if it would provide some reprieve from the happenings in your mind.

You daren't look back. Not even when every cell in your body is screaming for you to. Maybe this time, maybe this once-

"mmhm."

You stop breathing for a second, unsure if what you heard is actually real.

Too lost in your thoughts, you jump when a pair of big arms drags you toward and even bigger chest. Warmth. His Warmth.

You pull away, just a little, just enough to turn and look -

Here's here. Still here.

He doesnt miss the urgency in the way you pulled away from him, and he doesnt miss the desperation in your gaze as it drags along his form...like you're making sure he isn't just a dream-

And suddenly he's guilty. His shoulders stiffen and his breaths slow, almost to nothing.

Moments pass. You wait for the panic, for the pain...but it doesnt come. Your heart swells and you cant help but smile - one hand cups his cheek as the other keeps you upright.

You kiss him. On his forehead...down his cheek...and to his lips. Just as soft as the night before. He pulls you closer, face burying into the side of your neck, and it tickles -

He smiles, actually fucking smiles - and he kisses you then, softly, gently. Like he's making sure you aren't a dream too.

The stuffy room seems to fade into the background, you can see only him...feel him...the cold, soft pecks along your neck, and your chest, as the warmth of his hands caress the rest of you.

And you know, nothing else matters, because here's finally here. He's still fucking here.

~~~~~

#geralt imagine #reader insert #fluff #geralt fluff #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher imagine #the witcher smut #the witcher netflix #the witcher #henry cavill x you #henry cavill smut #angst #henry cavill angst #henry cavill fluff #geralt x gn!reader #geralt x male!reader #male!reader #gn!reader #chris evans x reader #Chris evans #the witcher x male!reader #anya chalotra #witcher eskel #lambert