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deandoesthingstome · 6 months

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Back to Reality - A Final Fantasy

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter x Reader

Summary: Go get your wolf, girl!

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v (missionary), fingering, monster fucking (right?).

A/N: A little angst never hurt anyone, right? It'll all be okay. I swear. I wanted to get this out the day after Geralt, but life. At any rate, I think this is it for now. A real nice end to spoopy season with Walter.

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

“Hi.”

He wasn’t right there when you turned from the counter after picking up your coffee, but he was standing close enough that there was no mistaking who he was greeting. Had he been any closer, you probably would have sloshed your latte all over his chunky, dark blue sweater and you were glad you stopped short when you saw him. You didn’t think he’d want to smell like pumpkin spice the rest of the day.

“Hi yourself,” you smiled, a little shyly.

When you asked at the front desk if they really meant anything, and then again if they could get a message to Walter, you had no idea he’d show up at your regular coffee shop the very same day. As in the day after the night you'd just been with another man. It wasn’t as awkward as you’d thought it might be, but it wasn’t exactly relaxed either.

You'd been dreaming of this moment, but now embarrassment began to creep in and you wondered if you'd made a mistake. Several of them. Four to be exact.

"Would you like to sit and talk with me?"

The urge to sink right to the floor in front of him was hard to resist but you were still at a coffee shop and people were lined up to grab their to-go orders so you found an empty table in a secluded corner and sat yourself down across from him.

His eyes were melancholy and you imagined they matched the lonely howl from your night with August. There was no mistaking it and you wanted to wipe the sorrow from his face but how could you? You were likely the cause and he was probably just here to tell you to forget it as a courtesy since you'd stupidly put your business on blast at the front desk. Fuck.

"You alright over there? You look a million miles away. You sure you're okay to talk with me?"

You took a deep breath and let it rush out.

"It's really nice of you to do this in person. A lot of guys would just not call."

"Not call? What are you...? What do you think is happening here?"

"I mean, you came to tell me to back off, right? Like, you're flattered and all, but you wouldn't, couldn't be with me after everyone I've been with. I mean, you worked with those guys."

"So you know I don't work there anymore. That was the first thing I wanted to say, so good. That's out of the way."

Why would he want you to know that? Maybe so you knew you could keep going back to the hotel and not have to worry about running into him? He continued.

"But why on earth do you think I'm here to tell you to back off?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow at you.

It was as if all the air was suddenly knocked out of you and it was all you could do to gather your wits to answer him.

"Well, I just thought...I mean, you can't possibly want someone who..."

"What? Someone who isn't afraid to go after what she wants?" Now both eyebrows raised.

"Walter. You can't mean that. You...I'm sorry but you don't look like someone who's super excited about the prospect."

He paused.

"I know I look tired. I am tired. I've been up nights trying to figure this out. But, look, my exhaustion is also not all about this. I left the hotel for a few reasons. One was you, but maybe not why you think."

"Well, why did you?"

"It's not ‘cause I fell hard, though I did. And you might think that made it difficult to keep hosting, and you'd be right. But honestly I got torn. Torn between knowing you were having the time of your life, which you absolutely deserve to do, and dealing with the taunting."

"Taunting?"

"Some of the guys figured out how I felt, and one of them started giving me shit about it. Betting me he could steal you from me if you ever made it to his room, not that you were even mine to begin with. And, yeah, feeling the way I do made it harder and harder to host properly so I made a decision."

"You left."

"I left."

You thought back to your night with August and now you knew for certain he was referring to Walter. And after what Geralt had said, you wondered why August gave you an option to shut him out. It sounded like August wanted Walt to see, to know you were being satisfied by another man. You could understand how that must have felt. You had jealous thoughts, too, when you found all Walt’s time slots had been booked. Imagining him with other women, well, it wasn’t all bad, but it wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world either. And yet, Walter indicated there were other reasons he left.

"But that's not all?"

"I was also studying part time and between all the bookings, I was falling farther and farther behind. I had to stay up late to finish assignments and I had an important test coming, so I quit to focus on that because I never wanted to host forever, but once you came along, I never wanted to do it again."

You were speechless. Awestruck. If anyone had told you that Walter felt the same way about you from the get go, as you found yourself feeling about him after weeks of experiences, you would have said they were crazy. And yet, here he was, spilling his guts. He gave it all up without even knowing if he had a shot with you.

"And you don't care I went back? To other rooms?"

Walter looked around the coffee shop, then turned and spoke cautiously to you.

“Can we…? Look, I know we don’t really know each other, and if you want to do this in a public place, I get it. But could we at least take a walk? I feel like everyone’s looking at us and I can’t think straight.”

This man was flustered and you were, too. Confused by all the feelings and emotions and confessions. Plus, what did you really know about Walter anyway?

“I’m going to text some friends and let them know where I am and who I’m with. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. We’ll just head across the way to the park, okay?”

“I’ll be right out.”

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning sendmeanangel: we’re having coffee and talking in the park across from a place called The Runcible Spoon. sendmeanangel: I’ll text again in an hour so don’t expect any replies until then

Then you shut off your phone and headed out to meet Walter.

MNstrluvr: Ohmygodddd! darkgothnightengale: it’s all happening!!! Where are you now? darkgothnightengale: hello??? I know it’s only been 20 minutes but how can you not have just admitted your feelings and jumped his bones by now? Give us all the details!

You found him on a park bench and sat, one leg drawn up with a foot tucked under your other knee so you could turn to face him while you talked. You wanted him to reach out and touch you as well, run his hand over your arm while you talked, but maybe you weren’t there yet. Maybe that would be awkward.

He took a deep breath and began.

"As to your question from before: I can't lie and say I don't care or wish I'd told you that very night how I thought I was feeling, but I thought it was way too soon to trust those feelings. And since you didn't know, and we weren't together, how could I expect you to just not do what you wanted? That's something else that's kept me up at night. Thinking about how to reconcile my feelings about you with both our pasts.”

Walt went on to tell you how much your night together had affected him. How he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He apologized for the locker room talk. He knew Sy had mentioned it and he felt miserable about it. It was just something they did, share notes in case a guest came back around so they could make sure to work any of their favorite things into the stay. They weren’t usually so personal with the comments, but he’d gotten carried away.

August had been particularly prickish about it, especially when it became clear how uncomfortable talking about the guests was making Walter, even going so far as to taunt Walter with the exact date and time of your reservation in his room. He’d given notice the next day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“You quit your job over me. Well, sorta. What are you going to do now?”

“I was already working towards my private investigator license. Ironic, huh? A PI and I couldn’t find the one person I really wanted. I asked the hotel, but they were not interested in breaking protocol or the privacy agreement. And until I got the call this morning, I thought I wasn’t on the best of terms with them anyway. I think I left them kinda high and dry. But the desk agent is a friend.”

“Yeah, Geralt mentioned something…” you trailed off, embarrassed to be bringing up your latest conquest.

“Who’s Geralt?” Of course he didn’t know.

“He’s a new host at the hotel,” you answered sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Walter looked away for a moment. “Of course.”

“Walter, I’m sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings.”

“By going back there?” he turned to you again. “How could you know I had feelings to hurt?”

“Well, I knew I had feelings that hurt.”

He stared at you in disbelief as you continued.

“I thought about you almost every day after our night together. I kept going back to different rooms, because I’d had such a good time and I wanted to see what else was out there. And look, I did have good times. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“I hosted other guests after you. I can’t really say anything about it, can I?”

“Right. Okay, well. The more time that went by, the more hosts I met and experiences I had, the more I knew I only wanted you. And then I couldn’t find you.”

“Find me?”

“I tried to re-book your room for weeks. You were always full.”

“You tried… What?”

“I know it’s probably super odd for me to keep going back there the way I have been, and then admit that I also wanted to come back to your room. But it’s true. That’s what’s been happening.”

“I guess the only thing I can say to that is I’m flattered. And then to let you know that if you still feel that way, I’d love to take you out tonight. I’d love to stop talking about all this time we’ve lost and maybe see if we can move forward. Because it took me a while but I realize it doesn't matter either way. Whether you went back or not. You are your own person. You're allowed to experience life the way you want to. I'm just here hoping you want to experience it with me again."

sendmeanangel: okay, i’m back and still alive, but i need a shower. Gimme another hour. I’ll fill you in I swear! MNstrluvr: meana, where are you????? Did you already fuck him???

sendmeanangel: oh my god you guys are insane. It’s only been 45 minutes MNstrluvr: you can’t just drop that and run. You had to have to known we’d need more sooner sendmeanangel: i think i’m allowed to gather all the intel before i share it with you lol darkgothnightengale: you got your intel and then bailed for a shower! Boo! MNstrluvr: so what’s happening? Why are you stalling like this??? sendmeanangel: he’s taking me out on a real, honest-to-goodness date tonight MNstrluvr: YES!!! Where are you going? sendmeanangel: dinner and then a moonlight walk darkgothnightengale: isn’t it a full moon tonight? sendmeanangel: yep ;) MNstrluvr: you are so getting fucked outdoors!! sendmeanangel: Wait someone's at the door. I think it’s my lunch. Hold on. MNstrluvr: send them away and come back to finish this talk!!!

"Walt? What're you...?" you spoke with surprise, thinking he wouldn't be here to pick you up for dinner for another five hours at least. It had only been one since you gave him your address and left him at the park, floating home on cloud nine. Now he stood in front of you, a bag of food in his hand.

"I couldn't wait any longer. I had to just...can I...?" Walter dropped the bag and made a motion, hands out in something like a plea, knee beginning to bend with something like reverence. Nothing you understood until you nodded your head.

He stepped forward then, into your space, your tiny studio apartment that until now was always just fine for your needs but suddenly seemed three sizes too small for the man who was bending to kiss you and wrap his arms around your thighs, urging you to encircle his waist with your legs as he moved to kick the door closed behind him.

Your fingers tangled in his gorgeous locks as you relished the feel of his lips on yours once more. You'd only experienced that two times with Walter at the hotel, and the urgency of only one of those came even close to the feel of this one, and you suddenly wondered if he'd held something back when he kissed you goodbye back then. The euphoria blinded you to any other movement until you felt your body peeled from his and deposited on your sofa. And not that you minded couch sex, as previously confirmed with Mike, nor were you assured in the moment that couch sex was the end goal, but you wondered briefly when you'd have a moment to help him unfold the futon, since your studio only had enough room for a convertible bed.

For now, Walter simply slipped down to the floor and settled between your thighs, braced his arms tightly against your hips, caressed the bare skin between your shirt and pants with his rough hands, and nuzzled his face into your stomach. You held him close, hands still shifting through his curls and you could swear you heard a whimper, but whether from you or him it didn't seem to matter.

For a few beats, it was just this sweet. A man on his knees before you, somehow awed by your presence and content to be pressed against you, to feel you hold him close. And then it was more. Then it was his mouth, covering a clothed breast with warmth, teeth nipping at the flesh through your shirt, his tongue leaving saliva on the fabric so that it clung to your erect nipple protruding proudly regardless of your bra and top in the way.

When he noticed you staring down, as if surprised by your body’s own response, he simply smirked and moved his attention to the other side. When he tired of the barrier, he slipped his hands up your back under your shirt to unhook your bra, then lifted both articles of clothing up your body and pulled them off your arms, before returning his attention back to your chest and his hands to your hips.

Heat was building, and along with it, an urge to roll up into him. When he felt the movements of your hips, he drew a hand over one thigh to cup it against your clothed sex as he peeled his head back to gaze up at you.

"Just as eager as I am," he grinned. "I like that."

"Please, Walter," you begged, though for what exactly you weren't sure.

"I got you," he emphasized with a firm press of the heel of his palm, dragging it up and over your increasingly sensitive nub to hook his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. At your approval, he removed them and settled back between your legs, though he nuzzled a little lower than before.

He dragged you down, pulling your ass off the edge of the futon so he had a clear path to his objective. You expected him to dive right in, hoping he remembered what he already learned from before, and then he spoke and your mind exploded.

"Such a delightful sight," he said, tracing down the crease of one thigh and up the other with a finger you desperately wanted him to dip inside you. And he could tell. "She's so eager, positively dripping, isn't she?" He squeezed an inside thigh, then nipped and licked the other before speaking again.

"Yes, Walter. Please," you gasped, already anticipating the sensations he was going to create for you. You shuddered and bucked involuntarily at his low chuckle, putting your pussy directly against his lips and he didn't try to resist any longer.

His hunger was apparent, and it matched the desire building in you. He lapped eagerly, licked and sucked with need, tongued expertly at all the spots he already knew were favorites and then he found a few more, too. You tried to hold onto a fleeting thought about his technique before it drifted into the air above you as you found your fingers back in his hair, clutching and pulling him close to your core. Walter feasted like there was no tomorrow and you closed your eyes with the knowledge you were going to have as many tomorrows with this man as you wanted.

When you came it was with the cry of his name on your lips. He crawled up off the floor to settle on the futon beside you, scooping you onto his lap and hugging you close to help steady you.

He placed kisses on your forehead and spoke words into the consciousness you struggled to maintain as your chest heaved. "Shh, I got you. You're good. So good. So beautiful."

"Walter, that was..., jesus..., fuck...," you stammered, barely able to control your thoughts and you wished you could have sunk into the ground below you when you heard the next words out of your mouth. "Did Sy give you pointers?"

Walter's immediate laugh was hearty and heartwarming, dispelling the thoughts you had that you deserved to be tossed across the room for even daring to bring it up.

"I've always known clients prefer him for that over any of the rest of us. I took him out for beers one night and I may have begged for a trick or five. Sy's a good guy and he thought you deserved it, though I'm sure he never would have agreed if he thought I was coming back to the hotel." Walt bent to capture your lips and when he was done kissing you hard and deep, he spoke again. "I do, too. Think you deserve it."

"What about you?" you asked, aware now of a hardness pressing against your flesh through his pants. "Don't you deserve more, too?"

You wiggled off his lap and stood, hand out to urge him up. You swallowed hard as he towered over you, eyes full of desire and lust.

"I deserve whatever you're willing to give me."

"I'll give you everything, Walt," you admitted, fingers already working the buckle of his belt and buttons of his pants.

His lips crashed to yours as soon as he tossed his sweater to the floor and he held you entranced with his tongue even after you dropped his jeans down his legs along with his boxers. It was just a low growl but the sound from the back of his throat was enough to send a wave of slick down your thigh as you clenched around the space where you most desired him to be.

"Fuck, Walter," you gasped into his mouth and begged. "Fuck me, please."

It was a mad dash to remove his boots so he could discard his pants, though not before he grabbed the made-just-for-him condoms from the pocket, and then unfold the futon for a larger surface area on which he could move you around and manipulate your passion. It was no plush cabin bed, but it would have to do.

"Fuck, I wanted this outside tonight," he admitted, staring at you as he rutted into your core with abandon.

"It's a full moon tonight," you noted, as if he wouldn’t already know that.

"I still wanna fuck you under it," he growled, staring deep into your eyes.

You were losing control, falling up through space and time as you felt every inch of him against every inch of you and it still wasn't enough. You couldn't stop your eyes from closing as you begged him for more.

"Hey," he called, lifting your leg around his waist and when you opened your eyes you saw him smile as you wrapped your other leg the same way without prodding from him. You were mesmerized by the motion of his hips and barely caught the glint, a hint of change to amber, but you did.

“No!” He stilled immediately but you held on as he tried to withdraw from you. “No, stay with me, here just like this. We can do that again, later, whenever. Just,” you drew a hand to cup his face, “please. Like this. Like you. Just you.” You kissed him deep and rolled your hips to spur him on again.

You were prepared to feel less full, less fucked, though not by much, with Walter in human form. You were not prepared for the way he fucked you to feel just as animalistic as the monster. His assault was merciless, even as he grunted in your ear all the ways he was going to make you his. How he planned to take you softly in the moonlight so you’d know it didn’t matter what form he was in, you could have him any way you wanted.

When you finally came apart for him, he let loose with a loud growl and you were sure your neighbors were gonna call the landlord any minute. He hurried back to your side after disposing of the spent condom, curling around you and melting you in his warmth.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” he asked. “I still wanna take you to dinner, but I’d love to just stay here with you for awhile. If that’s okay?”

You were about to answer him, but your returning senses also meant you could hear the buzzing vibrations of notifications on your phone. Shit!

“Uh, no. I don’t have to be anywhere. Maybe you could grab that bag you left outside and we can see what else I can scrounge up for us to eat right now?”

You grabbed your phone as he peeled open the door, careful to tuck himself behind it as he grabbed for the food, lest a neighbor get a view they didn’t pay for.

sendmeanangel: okay look. He’s here. Right now. Can’t talk. All good. MMNstrluvr: MEANA!!! darkgothnightengale: GIRL YOU BETTER SPILL SOON!

You found some chips and salsa and split your sandwich with Walt, not that it looked like nearly enough food to tide him over till dinner. But he didn’t seem to mind. The next few hours flew by as you both sought to learn as much about each other as you could as soon as possible.

He explained that the special skill he had only worked within the confines of a vortex, over which the hotel had been built. It’s why he couldn’t bend time to allow him to study and work and wonder about you without losing sleep somewhere along the way.

After a shower, and some shower head, and then another shower, Walter asked if he could take you somewhere special for dinner. Somewhere not in town. He let you send GPS coordinates to your online friends with the promise they wouldn’t send you any details of the location. He wanted it to be a surprise for you. They were only to use it if you didn’t check in after dinner and again in the morning and once more when you were back at your apartment.

The sun was just sinking low with a burst of evening color when Walt pulled up to the lakeside cabin. He helped you out of his truck, then grabbed your overnight bags and the groceries from the backseat. You couldn’t wait to see the place in the full daylight, but you could already tell it was magical.

An a-frame cabin with large windows faced the lake. An oversized wooden deck made up a large seating area and all around landing pad in front of the entrance. A set of side steps allowed access from the driveway, but along the full length of the deck three stairs led to a narrower mulched path that in turn led to a wooden dock out onto the lake. A seating area was visible there as well, though there were no chairs.

Walt let you in first, then followed and set the bags down before closing the door.

He must have noticed you still admiring the sunset out the windows.

"I can make it last."

You blinked and turned, curious about what he'd just offered.

"Are we in a vortex then?"

"Yes, I got lucky finding this spot. Don't own the place, yet, so I can't come out whenever I want, but I made sure tonight was free."

"And, I mean, no. It's beautiful but I'm really looking forward to the moon. Can you make that last?"

He bit his lip and nodded, letting a smile and glance drift to the floor, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe his luck.

"Yeah, I definitely can," he grinned at you before sweeping you into his arms. He kissed you hard and deep and you could feel the way he held back.

"Don't," you said, pulling away from the kiss so you could look him in the eye.

"Don't make it last?" he asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Don't hold back."

He did not. Every ounce of your clothing was on the floor next to his in what felt like a heartbeat. He was pawing at every inch of your body and you were enjoying it, the way he caressed you, held you, molded you to his form.

"Outside?"

"Won't matter," he huffed between kisses. "She's not up yet. Later. After dinner."

"Will you do it anyway?" you asked, and nodded earnestly when he asked if you were sure.

He again didn't waste a moment. One second he was Walter, the next he was the wolf and he was at your throat. Then down your body, then between your legs.

He made you come on his tongue at least three times before he presented his enormously hard member to you and helped you work your mouth around the tip.

You wanted so much more. You gave it your best shot. But he was huge. Larger than you recalled. When it was clear you'd need your hand to cover him completely, he licked your palms and wrapped your fingers around his length.

He pulled you off just as you finally found the right rhythm, the right pressure, the right speed.

"You're gonna make me come," he growled.

"Kinda the point, Walt," you grinned up at him. "C'mon, lemme..."

"You asked me not to hold back. Sorta assumed you meant the fucking."

"I meant don't..." you licked your lips. "Hold..." then your hand. "Back..." And with that, you took him back into your mouth and kept working him to climax.

You swallowed him down and glanced up, marveling at the way he shifted. The hair receded, though clearly not completely. The nose shortened, teeth shrunk, though a fang still peeked from his mouth as he panted for air. His stature gave back the extra inches balancing on the balls of his feet gained him. And with claws retracted back into his normally large hands, he reached to bring you to his feet before him.

After the kiss, you admitted, "I just figured the faster we finish dinner, the faster we can get to her."

His laugh never failed to make you feel safe and at home.

"That isn't how the moon rise works, but I appreciate the initiative."

She was just at the horizon of the mountain crest behind the cabin when Walt cleared the plates from the table. You started a quick, warm shower just to freshen up and welcomed him into your arms when he joined you.

Then he dried you off, handed you a flannel of his to wear, escorted you outside where he shifted on the way down the steps and led you to the end of the dock. You sat between his legs, back against his chest, and let the heat radiating from him keep you warm. You smelled the chill in the air you knew would lead to frost soon, but not tonight, not tomorrow.

She peered over the tree tops and cast her gaze upon you. You felt her power and you felt his power and you arched against him as he moved his hand between your legs. He nuzzled down your neck, nipped at your shoulder, and carefully, with precision, made you come on his hand.

As you recovered, you unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off your body, and laid it down behind you. You made your way to your back, letting the flannel shield your bare skin from the hard wood planks. And you pulled him to you, urged him inside you, and held him close. Your bodies moved in tandem as she shone brightly across the gentle rippling of the water, her reflection casting you in her glow.

Walt didn't lie about taking you gently. It was like nothing you ever imagined being with a wolf would be like. As sensual as any touch any man or monster had ever given you, and given your recent adventures, that was saying a lot.

But you could tell he was still holding back.

"I get it Walt," you whispered in his ear. "This doesn't have to be the way you say it though." You smoothed the fur along his face as he pulled back to watch your face. "Don't hold back."

With a snarl, he did as you bid, taking you apart as he had back at your place just mere hours ago. Though once the moon reached her peak, you could tell he'd halted time and it was gonna have to be you to beg him for mercy, plead with him to stop treating you to the most intense, overpowering yet intimate orgasms you'd ever felt. You had to urge him to finally come and let the moon fall how she wanted.

"I love you, too," you whispered to him as he collapsed beside you.

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS header created for me by my wonderful friend in fic, @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96

Special tag: @kittenofdoomage (cause sometimes you love my stuff and this one's another monster fucker lol!)

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if you asked and aren't here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you. Sorry!

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfic #werewolf!walter #werewolf!walter marshall #werewolf!walter x reader #werewolf!walter marshall x reader #spoopy season #back to reality #fantasy hotel #mine #deandoesthingstome

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schleiereule-94 · 3 months

Text

A Bard and a Witcher – Part 1

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier x aFab!Reader

Summary: You were after some fun when you made your way to the inn this evening, and boy did you find it. Both the bard and his witcher friend are more than happy to satisfy your desire.

Warning(s): SMUT MINORS DNI, porn w/o much plot, fingering, penetrative sex (lots of it), unprotected p in v, threesome, dirty talk (both degrading and some praise, cursing), rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (both f and am receiving), she is not talking much but enjoys being used

Author’s Note: This is my first fic, so I hope it is up to standards... Not beta read and not an english native, so be kind if you find mistakes. I have a second part almost done (bc I am a horny mess for these two...).

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into walking towards the inn this night. You were just looking for some distraction, some fun for a change. A good looking stranger, some beer and maybe even a dance. But now…

You didn’t see the witcher in the corner at first. You sat at the bar listening and laughing at the bards’ songs. He was young, good looking. His name was Jaskier and he looked exactly like what you were after. You’ve thrown him some looks that made him almost stumbled over his words.

“A short break to water my throat” he announced shortly after and he walked up to you at the bar, grinning sheepishly. “You’re funny” you complimented him. “And you look… breathtaking” he replied with a dramatic gesture, eyeing you up and down. He extended his hand to you “Jaskier is my name.” His gaze got stuck on your breasts. You smiled and leaned a bit more towards him to grant him a better look into your cleavage. “Y/n.” You moved to the side to make just enough space at the bar so he could squeeze in next to you. “What brings you here bard?”, you asked as he took his place and grabbed a pint of beer from the barmaid. Your arm touched his lightly and you felt the warm feeling of excitation building up in you. “We’re on the way to Cintra.” “Cintra, hm. That’s a long trip. Who’s we?” you asked innocently.

He nodded over his shoulder to the darker part of the inn. Sitting there was a big, bulky figure, a grey hood over his head, long white hair spilling out from under it. You couldn’t make out the face clearly. When you squinted your eyes to see the stranger better he suddenly looked up and golden eyes stared directly into your soul. Your heart missed a beat and your breath hitched. The bard must have taken notice of your reaction as he let out a laugh. “That’s Geralt. Geralt of Rivia, I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”. Without taking your eyes off the man you nodded slightly. “Yes, yes I have heard of him.” The yellow pupils bore into you. A weird feeling bordering on fear stirred up in your chest. It made you want to run away. Your legs tensed, but you kept staring back captured by the tension in your connection. Slowly you felt how this tension sank down into your lower belly and straight between your legs. Your thighs were pressing together now to create some friction as your arousal grew quickly. You gasped and tore your head away to look at Jaskier. “You travel with Geralt of Rivia?”. You sounded more out of breath than you liked. But Jaskier didn’t seem to notice. “Yes. We share a wonderful journey and friendship” the bard stated proudly. You tilted your head and blinked, a picture being painted in your head. A filthy picture involving the bard, you and a witcher. “Is that the only thing you two share?”, you asked quietly. The bard stared at you dumbfounded. You looked at him through your lashes. “You share a room here?”. “Yes, it’s cheaper. But why..? Oh, ah” Jaskier seemed to finally grasp what you were asking. “He would never interrupt, I’ll make sure of that.”, he said reassuringly. You caught his hand which was nervously fidgeting with a coin and used it to pull him even closer to you looking him deep in the eyes. “What if I want him to?” Jaskier stared back, swallowed dryly as he considered the idea.

It’s not like he had never thought of it. Sometimes he spied on Geralt when he was with a woman, listening to her moans, his ear pressed to the door of the room. Or trying to peak through the keyhole. He knew the effect Geralt had on women and was jealous of how easily they fell apart for him. Maybe having him there would make for a good learning experience. And if it was what he had to do to touch this beauty here… Slowly he leaned back on his chair, then cleared his throat. “Ehm, I ehm have not done.. I’ve never…” his look went to Geralt who’s eyes were fixed on you. “Your his friend, right? Surely you can convince him” You started drawing slow circles on his hand with your finger. You heard Jaskier breath in and out and felt how he shimmied in his seat, you weren’t sure if it was his nerves or signs of arousal. A look up at his face gave you an answer. His eyes sparkled with lust now. “So you are that kind of girl, hm? One man is not enough?” His voice had acquired a slight rasp and his gaze was now shamelessly fixed on your breasts. You grinned and shrugged “I just like to have fun. And you..” you grabbed his shirt to pull him close, pressed your lips on his surprised face and slightly bit at his lower lip before releasing him again “…look like you’d love some fun” you grinned. Jaskier’s face was flushed red and he looked breathless. Just how you liked your men, you thought with a wide smile. He stood up from his chair and leaned against you. You could feel his hard bulge through his pants pressing into your thigh. “Give me a moment”. You watched while the bard made his way to his witcher companion. He started whispering into his ear and Gerald’s gaze wandered back to you. His face did not show any indication of emotions, neither interest, nor lust nor rejection. You felt your cheeks redden under the scrutiny of the yellow eyes as your heart started to pump your blood faster. Geralt turned his head to Jaskier but you couldn’t see what kind of response he was giving his friend. You felt high or tipsy, even though you had barely drunk half a glass of beer.

Jaskier made his way through the crowd back to you. “Come with me, now” He took your hand and almost violently pulled you out of your seat and towards the stairs leading to the first floor. You looked back over your shoulders and saw Geralts eyes following you both with an unreadable expression on his face. You smiled at him while Jaskier dragged you up the stairs towards their room. From the corner of your eye you spotted the Witcher slowly getting up from his chair…

The door crashed shut behind Jaskier and he immediately started kissing you sloppily with his mouth wide open, tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You pressed yourself into him, kissing back fiercely. His hard cock pushing and pulsating into your lower belly. His hands were nestling with your dress, trying to pull down the sleeves. He finally succeeded on one side, pulling out your breast. Your nipple hardened immediately in the cool air. He turned you around and held you from behind with both arms, breathing hot air into your neck. “S’that what you wanted little whore? Hm?” Instead of giving an answer you ground your hips back into his hard-on. You felt how slick started to pool between your legs. Jaskier pinched your nipple between two fingers and made you moan. That same moment the door sprang open. Geralt filled the whole doorframe. Both you and Jaskier froze for a second. You looked up at him “Here to join?” you finally asked when none of you dared to move. The two men looked at each other for a few seconds before Geralt stepped into the room without a word and closed the door behind him. One more step and he stood just centimetres away from you. You could feel heat radiating off his body in waves. “How does she feel?” he asked Jaskier in a low growling voice. You felt a jolt of arousal moving down your spine when he finally looked at you. Jaskier had managed to get your other tit out. “She feels great, I mean, look at them” he grinned at his friend from behind you and groped and squeezed your boobs. “Was so eager to get both of us on her. I bet she is wet for us already. Can you help me out here and get her clothes off?” “She is wet like river”, Geralt stated while putting his hand on your hips. “I can smell it.r” With a hard tug your dress slipped over your body, fell to your knees and you were left in your soaking undergarments. One of Jaskiers hands immediately started travelling over your belly downwards leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Geralt brought his hand up under your chin to tilt your head up and you sank into the stare of his yellow eyes. “I could even smell you down there in the inn. Such a needy little whore”. His other hand grabbed your now free breast just as Jaskier’s slipped under your waistband. A long finger plunged into your dripping wet pussy while Geralt’s calloused fingers brushed over your nipple. You moaned loudly and your hips started bucking all by themselves. Sandwiched between the two men you felt so turned on you couldn’t think straight anymore. Trying to get as much relief as possible you ground down on Jaskier’s finger. It was not enough. You needed more. Geralt grinned, reading your pained facial expression exactly right. “Give her one more, this whore wants to be stretched out properly” he instructed. Jaskier immediately complied. But even two of his delicate fingers did not go deep enough. You panted and bucked your hips against his hand inside of you. “Hm, let me help” Geralt pushed the underpants down to your knees before cupping your cunt and Jaskier’s hand on it. His huge hot palms easily engulfed both. You let your head fall back onto Jaskier’s shoulder breathing hard. Both men were looking at you intently while Geralt slowly added his finger to Jaskier’s into your pussy. You let out a groan as you felt it going deep and brushing at just the right spots. You could feel an orgasm building up. “Ah fuck” you muttered as the men started to pump into you. Their movements were not very coordinated and slow, but the feeling of both of them pushing your walls while fondling your breasts and Jaskier licking your earlobe was too much. You clenched down on the men’s fingers as your orgasm hit you. Your kneeds became wobbly and you fell back into Jaskier who let you both collapse onto the bed.

The sudden loss of the fingers inside you made you hiss. Jaskier turned your head around and kissed you deeply, taking your breath away. Meanwhile, Gerald took a chair from under the table by the window and put it down in front of the bed. You felt limp in the afterglow of your orgasm, sinking into the sheets as Jaskier wriggled out under you. You watched him take off his boots and shirt, then his pants. Turning your head to the right you directly looked into Geralt’s devouring eyes. He sat in his chair, wide-legged and still fully dressed. His eyes scanned every millimetre of your body while he palmed himself over his pants. Your eyes went wide, that bulge looked really big. The witcher once again read your expression perfectly. “Jaskier will open you up. So you can take me like the good whore you are” he growled, adjusting himself in his pants. The arousal that had subsided a bit now slammed back into you, both at the witcher’s sight as well as Jaskier climbing back onto the bed. He was now fully naked, his cock standing erect in front of his body, dripping from the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight. The bard buried his head in your neck to bite at your shoulder. This sent a shiver down your spine and you arched your back up to meet his body. His stiff member pressed into your abdomen. “Please”, you whisper “please”. “Please what little lady?” Jaskier licked your ear. “You want to feel me inside you?” “Yes, please”, you pleaded, your cunt clenching around nothing. Jaskier sat up, straddling your belly, looking down at your face. His member laid hot and heavy on your belly, slowly leaking sticky precum on your skin. He spat in his hand and started pumping himself while you squirmed below him, trying to get some friction where you needed it most. His cock was not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but long and slightly curved upwards. You wanted to touch it. Picking up some precum from your belly you replaced Jaskiers hand to stroke his cock. He threw his head back with a loud moan. He reached behind himself to find your clit. Rubbing small circles, just as you had done on his hand earlier, he had you panting and writhing beneath him in no time. His chest was heaving and your fingers felt like ice and fire when they scratched lightly over his abdomen. There was no way he could wait any longer. He lowered himself onto you, sucking on one of your nipples and lined himself up, slightly nudging at your entrance. You squinted your eyes shut at the feeling. You needed this, so badly. You locked eyes with the bard when he finally slid into you, slowly but steadily until he hit your cervix at the very back. You both let out a cry of ectasis as he bottomed out. You gripped his shoulders while he slid all the way out, just to slam back in again. From there he buried his face on your side and started to buck his hips into you fervently. Rocking up and down, you glanced over to Geralt. He was still sitting in his chair watching the scene intently. But his hand was in his pants now, slowly stroking his still covered dick. “I want to see it” you mouthed at him, unable to form actual words as white heat pooled in your abdomen every time Jaskier hit that spot deep inside you. You watched, fingernails digging into Jaskier’s arched back, as Geralt unbuttoned his pants, slowly and unhurriedly, and his member sprang free. It was big. Big and fat with an enlarged red tip and clearly visible pulsating veins. You almost blacked out from that sight alone while Jaskier’s rapid rhythm and grunts started to send you over the edge again.

You yelped at the sudden empty feeling and your orgasm died down, your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. You looked up at Jaskier now straddling you again with watery eyes. “Why?” you managed to stutter. “Wanna come into your mouth, whore” a sex-drunken Jaskier replied. “Slide down” He pushed you downwards towards the foot of the bed. Your calves dangling from the bed your face was now in front of Jaskier’s cock which had slipped between your breasts. With both hands you pushed your heavy breasts up to cover his member completely as he started to slide back and forth between them, lubed up by your juices. The angry red head, still slick from your juices, peaked out from your cleavage rhythmically and you stuck out your tongue to lick it. Jaskier gasped and pushed himself up even more. You opened your mouth to take him in. The angle was shallow but you blew your cheeks and sucked hard. “Ah fuuck” Jaskier cried out quickening his pace once more. Another sound filling the room caught your attention and you saw Geralt slowly stroking himself from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on. But the tension from the orgasm you were just denied still lingered in your belly. You desperately needed some relief. You tried pressing your thighs together but that took you nowhere, everything being way to slippery from Jaskier’s and your fluids. You couldn’t speak with Jaskiers dick slipping in and out of your mouth so you started wining instead. Jaskier was way too absorbed watching his cock slide between your tits and disappearing into your mouth as to hear or care about your misery. But Geralt did.

You realized he had gotten up from his chair when he pulled at your feet to drag your ass way down to the edge of the bed. Jaskiers cock was now directly above your face and he was piercing it down your throat. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could without gagging. His moans became quicker and louder and it was clear he would not last much longer. You opened your eyes you had closed in shock when Geralt had moved you. In-between Jaskier’s thrusts you could just see the other man, nacked from his hips downwards, standing at the foot of the bed looking down on you. You opened your legs wide to give him a better view. A deep thrust of Jaskier brought tears to your eyes and left you gasping for air, so you didn’t see Geralt kneeling down onto the floor. He took in the sweet scent of your pussy, now so strong it overpowered even the fire burning in the corner. He had smelled it from the moment you had entered the inn. This beautiful woman, flirting both with him and his friend with not much more than looks. A pretty whore who could not get enough dick. He would need to show you what it meant to be properly satisfied. As much as you seemed to enjoy Jaskier, he knew that only he could give you what you really needed. Looking up at your face covered by his friends ass who was pushing into you, his cock jolted. It was such a dirty scene. The sounds you made left him feeling dizzy from arousal. And your scent, god… he turned his attention back to your cunt, bringing his nose closer to breath it all in before putting his hands on your thighs. You felt him licking a long stripe over your slick covered hole all the way up to your sensitive bud, which made you jerk and groan into Jaskiers dick. The man over you now sounded desperate and you brought up your hand to massage his balls. That finally undid him. After a last brutal push down your throat you felt him tense up and he emptied himself into your mouth. You caught the warm liquid on your tongue and tried to swallow as much as you could. You almost choked on the cum when Geralt sucked your clit between his teeth. Jaskier collapsed onto the mattress next to you. You looked over a small string of semen ran down over your cheedk from the corner of your mouth. “God fuck, this woman is the death of me” the bard moaned, breathing heavily. Geralt laughed into your pussy which made you gasp. His big hands dug into your flesh as all your muscles tensed up in anticipation of another orgasm. You heard Geralt’s lapping sound as he drank up your juices, which should have been embarrassing, but only drove you closer to the edge. The moment his big finger entered you it was over. With a cry you arched your back, eyes only seeing white, your hands fisting the sheets for dear live. The witcher worked you through this one with his mouth slow powerful strokes of his finger, pitying you after your last release was denied.

And here you are now, covered in a fine layer of sweat and semen looking down at the white wolf as he licks his fingers clean of your juices. He takes his shirt off over his head and throws it into a corner. Fully naked his figure is even more imposing. And his dick is so. big. Fuck, how are you going to take all this? The slight feeling of fear creeps back into your still heaving chest, mixing with the lingering arousal. “On your knees whore” the witcher commands with a low growl. You are already spent, not sure how to move. Jaskier is still laying a few inches next to you, watching and again toying with his flaccid dick. Apparently, you took too long to react. Big strong hands grip your midsection and you are thrown onto your belly. “On your knees” the witcher growls again. You scoot back onto your knees, all your legs and arms shaking, both from exhaustion and excitement. Geralt grabs your hips on both sides and pulls you backwards to the edge of the bed. A burning slap echoes through the room and you cry out as a hot sting covers your buttcheek. “You do as I say or you get punished” Geralt snarls. You take a look over your shoulder. The witcher towers over you, it’s both frightening and turning you on. “Yes sir”, you stutter frantically trying to hold yourself up on all fours. Your task gets easier as Geralt’s grip on your hips gets even stronger. “Such a beautiful pussy” he grunts “asking to be filled up”. You’re panting in anticipation. “Please”, you whisper. “Please what, whore? Use your words!” His yellow eyes are burning with lust now. “Please, please fuck me, Geralt, I need it so bad” you cry. “Not had enough yet, hm” His huge tip is prodding at your entrance, the stretch already sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You shake your head “not enough, sir.” “Hm, we better make sure to fill you up then” he says and finally starts pushing into you. You’re grateful he’s going slowly. Your walls burn as he steadily pushes in his thick girth splitting you in half. You hiss and he groans loudly. “Fuck, so tight. Such a perfect pussy. M’gonna ruin it for good” the witcher mutters, watching as his cock disappears into you. Mercifully he gives you a few seconds to adjust until you start circling your hips, grinding back into him. “Insatiable, that’s what you are, an insatiable whore” he says with a smirk on his face. He pushes in the last centimetre, his pelvis now flat against your ass. You can feel his heavy balls on the back if your thighs. “You want me to fuck you, whore?” All coherent thoughts have left your head as you sit there speared down on his dick. The only thing you manage is a quick nod and a pleading look over your shoulder. And that’s all that’s needed for Geralt to drop his last inhibitions. With a loud groan he snatches his hips backwards to push into you again full force. You cry out and land on your elbows while your hips are held up by Geralt’s strong arms. He thrusts into you again and again and you see stars. “That what you wanted, hm? More dick? Does this fill you up completely now?” His pace is relentless, your walls being literally attacked every time he buries his cock in you. Your mouth is agape, shouting loudly every time he enters you, violently hitting your cervix. “Yes” you cry, “So good. Please. Need. To cum.” Your vision blacks out. You feel how Jaskier fondles your hanging breasts while every thrust catapults you nearer to heaven. “Yes, come on my cock, let me see how good it feels to be finally satisfied” Geralt groans and with a loud, long shout of his name you come.

The witcher doesn’t stop. He fucks you right through your high, his eyes squinting from pleasure as you get even tighter clenching his dick, trying to milk his semen from him. But he’s not done with you yet. As you come to your senses you are once more picked up and thrown onto your back this time. Geralt is above you, his white hair falling into your face as you are gasping for air like dr owning person. His hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing it with his thumb. You almost jump at the feeling, being way too overstimulated. You try to writhe out below him but his huge body is keeping you in place. Your eyes fill with tears, you can’t take it, you shake your head. “So you finally had enough?” Geralt asks but he doesn’t wait for you to answer but pushes back into you hard, making you gasp. You feel sore, your body too tired to do anything else than lie there. You cling onto the sheets while your breasts are rocking up and down with his rhythm. You hear a moan and watch how Jaskier is stroking himself feverishly next to you. The veins on his arms are standing out, from how hard he is fisting his dick, his face contorted into a grimace of pleasure. He bucks his hips and cries out while a short spurt of cum shoots out of him. It’s all he has left after you milked him with your mouth. His dick feels like it’s burning, and he palms it lightly, coming down from his high, watching how Geralt thrusts into you at a punishing pace, making the bed move in jolts. Slowly he gets up to heat some water over the fire.

“Look at me”. Geralt yanks your head back forward to face him. He sits up and puts your legs on his shoulder. “I’m going to finish you. Until you can’t think anymore.” He pulls you towards him violently, his cock once again taking up all of you. Your eyes roll back into your head. Your mouth is wide open but can’t make any sounds anymore. The new angle is even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible, and you feel like your soul is being ripped from your body. You can see yourself from above being devoured by the witcher, your sounds reduced to a weak whimpering. Geralt leans forward, folding you in half. You feel so small under him, like his toy. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass, tensing up. He’s almost there. His rhythm gets more choppy while he’s chasing his release. Looking down on your body he sees the outline of his cock on your stomach every time he fills you up. “So. Fucking. Good. You take me so good, such a good whore” he mutters, his hand pressing down on your belly, felling himself pushing in and out of you. The pressure is way too much. With an animalistic cry that doesn’t seem to end and only faintly sounds like “Geralt” your body convulses. Every single muscle in you twitches, your walls strangling the witchers cock, asking it to finally release its seed. One, two thrusts more and Geralt finally starts to come apart, eyes closed, shooting white ropes into you, painting your walls. You gasp, hands clenched around his wrists as you feel him twitch inside you for what feels like an eternity. Then he collapses on top of you, taking your breath away. You try to move him, but your arms are void of any strength. His warm cum is slowly dripping out of you as his dick softens inside you.

Geralt moves and you frantically gasp for air. He moves his hair out of his face, looks down on you and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Well done kid” he says warmly stroking your sweaty forehead. Jaskier strides over, halfway dressed already and hands him a warm wet cloth with which he starts to clean you up carefully. You feel a wide smile stuck onto your face while the warmth of the bed and Geralt’s hands on you lull you to sleep. You feel the two men tuck you in and arms that embrace you in a hug before you pass out completely.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x jaskier #geralt x jaskier x reader #jaskier x reader #the witcher #geralt the witcher #geralt x you #the witcher smut #jaskier the witcher #henry cavil x reader #netflix the witcher #geraskier #geralt #geralt x jaskier x you #henry cavill #henry cavill smut

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cornyonmains · 9 months

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I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about season 3 of The Witcher, but one thing is for certain, I'm loving Jaskier's progression as a character.

I think it goes without saying that a huge turning point for Jaskier was his falling out with Geralt on the mountain in season 1. As I read his character at that point, he was quite in love with Geralt, and very much suffering from the belief that he wasn't enough for Geralt in any sense of the word, not as a lover, a friend, or a traveling partner. You see this insecurity ramp up throughout the entirety of the season 1 finale, and to think Geralt hadn't noticed that was lunacy. He did, which was part of the problem. Geralt needed to lash out, he needed someone to lash out at, and there Jaskier was, already wounded, the easiest of targets, and Geralt goes full savanna apex predator on his ass. Then he left him, on a mountain, that he knew Jaskier didn't know how to traverse safely. He said fuck off, and also die.

Jaskier could have crumbled, and for awhile, he probably did. But this led to a key moment of character development, because it caused Jaskier to take himself out of Geralt's shoes and get back into his own. To introspect. And Jaskier realized that he was enough, that he'd done a lot for Geralt, and that Geralt's refusal to embrace his own humanity while still wanting Jaskier as a friend resulted in him becoming an emotional punching bag. And Jaskier, rightfully pissed off after reaching these conclusions, channeled that anger into the post-break-up banger of the century, Burn Witcher Burn. But at the core of what ultimately makes Jaskier one of the most sympathetic and relatable characters in this show, is that he didn't do it so much as he was angry, but because he wanted Geralt to hear it. Because his songs are how he expresses what can't be spoken. The tragedy of Jaskier's character is that he was always going to forgive Geralt. That he was always going to drop what he was doing to trail this man with an affection even Yennefer doesn't easily mock, because it would be entirely too cruel. He wrote that song so Geralt would come and say he was sorry and Jaskier could go back to settling for scraps of his time.

So then we come to season 3, and enter Radovid. Enter the first person Jaskier's met in 30 long years that intrigues him as much as Geralt, and he's absolutely taken off his guard by that sentiment being returned after he's spent over half his life accepting something like that could never happen for him. He's 50 years old. Jaskier has accepted his fate of endless pining at this point. So when Radovid asks him to sing a song about his white-haired witcher, Jaskier slips up. He reveals too much, and it gives Radovid the chance to say exactly what Jaskier needed to hear.

"Does the witcher know how lucky he is to have you?"

I imagine it's rare for Jaskier, who spends his life finding the right words for others, that someone would find the right words for him. It's little wonder he was so immediately fascinated by Radovid, and so immediately heartbroken.

For 3 seasons and multiple decades, we see Jaskier's entire character formed by the hurt he endures being part of Geralt, Yennefer, and Cirri's life. And despite all that hurt, all the rejection, the betrayal, the torture, harassment, manipulations, and political intrigue we see Jaskier progressively becoming a better and better person. He helps Geralt, Yennefer, he helps the elves as the Sandpiper, and watches Cirri without a word of complaint. He throws himself into any dangerous situation asked of him, and helps Yarpen's men. He doesn't let the pain make him bitter. He still thinks love is beautiful, even when it hurts. He drinks, he fucks, he makes merry. He writes sad songs about Geralt.

Jaskier's development, his portrayal as a character, has been a true highlight of this series.

I sometimes think the djinn, in some cruel last jab at Jaskier and Yenn, used them both in Geralt's wish as a form of punishment. For Jaskier, his punishment for wanting so much, so quickly, was to spend his life wanting the one thing he couldn't have. That thing being Geralt, because to punish Yen, who so badly wanted control of her own destiny, he tied it to Geralt's. It's like a magical ouroboros of misery. And for Geralt, who tried to put a stop to the madness, the djinn rewarded him with the thing he wanted most. A family. A wife, a daughter, and a best friend who would never leave. It's some dark and complicated shit, and I think it rings true to the tone of the story itself.

Never has any character in this history of everything deserved to bone a hot Redanian prince more.

#The Witcher #Geraskier #Radovid #Jaskier #Geralt #Yennefer #Joey Batey #Henry Cavill #anya chalotra #freya allan

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podcastenthusiast · 2 years

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I read an article about Geralt's chronic pain in book canon, then I remembered Dr. Joachim von Gratz in Witcher 3 saying he could tell Geralt broke his leg at some point. So I took all that and ran with it for this.

---

Geralt is in pain.

It's an odd phrase, he thinks as he trudges up the stairs to their room. Like pain is a physical place he could escape if he only knew how.

Vesemir had taught them long ago that pain is simply information. Its message should be acknowledged and the rest discarded as useless sensation. A witcher who can't handle pain is a dead witcher, after all; they were forged in agony.

Geralt can never figure out what all of the pain wants him to know, if anything. Why it flares up like this. It's just outdated information.

They're staying at an inn tonight. What used to be a rare luxury on the Path has become commonplace, at least in Jaskier's company. Good thing, too; an unrelenting spring rainstorm is raging outside. Thunder rumbles a mile away and he can taste electricity in the air, not unlike the pain that zaps through his leg with each step.

Jaskier had called for the tub in their room to be filled, thankfully. Geralt casts Igni on the water until it's almost too hot even for a witcher, and sinks into the bath with a relieved sigh. Warmth dulls the pain somewhat, like a blunted blade beneath his skin, but it's still there.

He eventually must leave the bath, however. Getting himself dressed somehow saps away the last of his energy, and Geralt deposits his aching body onto the bed after, letting his mind drift as much as it can. Jaskier is hovering in his periphery. He's talking, as ever, envigorated by an adoring audience, eyes a little wine-bright. Try as he might, Geralt can't focus on his words. There's a cacophony of sounds around him—rain and Jaskier's heartbeat and drunken revelry downstairs and animals in the forest just beyond the village. But eclipsing it all is the pain.

Years of experience and witcher training allows him to bear it without letting the weakness show. He can live with pain, like he lives with the foul taste of potions and their aftereffects, with teleportation sickness and wearing scratchy doublets to formal occasions. With human cruelty. The blood on his hands.

"Geralt, have you been listening at all?"

"Hm."

"Right. You're not even here right now, I see."

"Hmm."

He isn't here. He's not in this room or even this country; he is in pain.

"Move over, then. You're taking up the entire bed and I'm knackered."

Geralt does move. It nearly steals the breath from his lungs. He curls in on himself, instinctively, as if the pain weren't coming from within.

"Something is wrong. What is it?"

Jaskier sounds serious now. Geralt doesn't want to ruin his evening.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Geralt—"

"I said I'm fine. Leave it, Jaskier!"

He stands up then as if to prove it, but his treacherous knee refuses to cooperate with the simplest command and buckles under his weight. The pain, which had briefly lodged itself near his hip, suddenly radiates sharply down his leg in nauseating waves. He curses.

"You're hurt, aren't you. I thought I saw you favoring one leg earlier. Was it the griffin? Geralt, you have to tell me these things—"

"No," he grits out. "I'm not injured."

"And I'm not stupid, you know. You can barely walk! Clearly—"

"Old wounds. Just...still troubles me sometimes. All right? Nothing to worry about."

There is a long, uncharacteristic silence following his confession. Geralt fears he may have finally broken him.

"Well," the bard says at last, "You're a fool if you think that will stop me worrying about you."

"I can manage." His arm doesn't hurt much tonight, at least, and he gets to sleep in a real bed. Small mercies.

"Oh, I've no doubt of that, certainly. You're the most stubborn man I've ever known. I also know you rarely permit yourself even the slightest modicum of comfort."

"Jaskier..."

"Does anything help when it gets bad?"

"Potions. Meditation." Jaskier looks hopeful at this, and he feels a little guilty for having to crush those hopes so soon when he adds, "But not this time. I don't have enough potions to waste them like that."

"Meditation, then? I can be as quiet as you need, contrary to popular belief."

"Hurts too much," Geralt admits. Then, maybe to ease Jaskier's concern, he says, "The bath helped a little."

"Good, that's a start. Now, I know what works for me might not work for you, but I've a few remedies. Will you let me try to help?"

"Didn't know you were a priestess of Melitele," he grumbles.

"Sadly the temple refused to accept me for study, can't imagine why, so I had to become a bard instead," he quips.

"I thought you were tired."

Jaskier ignores this comment. He can hear the bard rummaging around in his bag.

"Where is it. This salve saved my life when I was a student at Oxenfurt. They had us practicing the lute for hours and hours; I thought my hands would fall off. My wrists still hurt sometimes. Then there was the— Ah! There. Geralt? Still with me?"

"Yes. What?"

"Normally I prefer to say this under much more pleasant circumstances, but: trousers off, if you please."

He groans. Doesn't Jaskier understand how much work it was to get them on?

It's a slow process, mostly because he refuses any help with it.

"Oh, Geralt," he says softly. The bard touches his knee, gentle as a summer breeze. "It does look swollen here."

In truth, he's strangely glad of that. It's much worse somehow when it hurts and yet appears perfectly normal.

"Are you allergic to any herbs? This has got, uh, let's see. Chamomile, willow bark, ginger, essential oil of—"

"I drink poison on a regular basis, Jaskier. Apply the damn salve already."

He does. Geralt closes his eyes. He isn't sure any simple salve will even be enough to touch the pain, but the way Jaskier massages his leg seems to ease a bit of the tension coiled in his muscles, if nothing else. After a while he starts to relax. He listens to the rain. He breathes.

"'M sorry I snapped at you earlier," Geralt murmurs into the pillow. "Wasn't fair."

"It wasn't. But you're already forgiven. Feeling any better?"

Geralt shrugs, because while it is becoming background noise again, he's still in pain. Pretty much always is. No amount of soft touches or herbs or magic can fix that completely.

Being here in pain with Jaskier, though, is better than being alone.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier fic #witcher fanfiction #whisking canons and headcanons together until i get the hurt/comfort i need #geralt is disabled and ace and probably neurodivergent 'cause i say so #i have too many fics now. i should post them to ao3

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xxellagxx · 8 months

Text

LA Lover - introduction

Word count: 467 (sorry I really struggled with this chapter because I needed to figure out how to write the backstory behind y/n Katrina and Katrina going to La while having it make sense ) the next few chapters will be longer.

Pairing: reader x Colby brock

Warnings: none

Definitely proof read I changed it like 60 times

You and Katrina had been friends since elementary school and you were both inseparable. Always with eachover no matter what and as the years went by your friendship only grew stronger and stronger.

Now you was both 18 and had just finished your final year of highschool, which was by far the best school year. Mainly because you started dating a boyfriend Ryan this year (the only boyfriend you had that Katrina approved of, which was a nice change). Every thing seemed perfect.

That was until Katrina told you she was moving to LA to pursue her music career. Don’t get me wrong you couldn’t be happier for her , it’s just that you knew you would really really really miss her.

To celebrate her moving to LA , you and Katrina’s parents organised a big party with all her family and friends . You knew she was going to love it . And it started in.. “Shit! 10 minutes!” You cursed quickly putting on your makeup as fast as possible. You stumbled down the stairs and into your car, zooming to the venue.

“Am I late ?” “Oh no dear, just in time.” Darla (katrinas mum ) smiled, doing some finial touches of the decorations. The venue was buzzing with excitement as more and more people started arriving at the party. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, music, and absolute delicious food Katrinas mum made . And even though it was an amazing party you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions knowing that this was the last time you would see Katrina before she went to LA.

Once the party was over you hugged Katrina tightly, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like this was the last time you would see her before she moved. “I’m going to miss you so much” “Promised to keep in touch with me. even when you blow up and become famous” Katrina laughed “I promise.”

That was 2 years ago. And now you are in your last year of university . A lot of things have changed since you last saw Kat. She made new friends in LA and even got a boyfriend. You really missed her, you texted occasionally but it wasn’t the same. You didn’t think you would be able to see her again that was until you got a message from her.

Kat <3: Heyy. I know you have just finished this year at collage and if you have plans it’s totally okay but I was wondering if I could fly you out to LA . You wouldn’t have to pay anything because I can pay for the flight and you could stay with me at my apartment and you can finally meet Sam and my other friends

You: are you kidding ?! OF COURSE

_________________________________________________

Thank you for reading this was only the intro for the story and the first chapter will be posted soon

Let me know if you wanna be in my tag list

Constructive criticism and any feedback is appreciated!!

Thank you for reading

@hc-geralt-23

#colby brock #sam and colby #colby brock fluff #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby x reader #dating colby brock #snc #fluff

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thedemonofcat · 7 days

Text

A curse is cast upon Geralt. Its only remedy is a kiss from the one whose heart he has broken, a love that remains unrequited on both sides. This curse, a twisted manifestation of the pain he has caused, now binds him.

It only takes Geralt a little while to figure out that this means Jaskier, which will be tricky. The last time I saw or heard from Jaskier was before the mountain.

There are a couple of conditions that must be met for the kiss to work. Firstly, Jaskier must be the one to initiate the kiss. Geralt cannot simply go up to Jaskier and kiss him. Secondly, Geralt cannot reveal the truth about the curse to Jaskier, as it would appear as if their love is not genuine.

The curse makes Geralt unrecognizable until it's lifted. Finally, Jaskier can only know Geralt after the kiss and the curse are broken.

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt of rivia #joey batey #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fic ideas #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #the witcher season 3 #the witcher season three #anya chalotra

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jasmines-library · 1 year

Text

You'll Be Okay.

Geralt of Rivia/The Witchers x Injured Reader.

Summary: Growing up in Kaer Morhen as a female Witcher was never easy, but you always had your brothers beside you. Although you only see them a few times a year, you are still close, trusting each other with your lives as you have done many times before. So what happens when your brother, and best friend, gets infected by a creature you dedicate your life to hunting?

Warnings: Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, angst, choking, near death, swearing, stabbing, weapons, loss/grief, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of a slow start.

Notes: This can be interpreted as completely platonic, or as a Geralt x reader, or Eskel x reader, it’s up to you to choose. This also takes place during S2E2 of the Netflix show.

Word count: 4.1K (it got a little out of hand...)

⭒ Masterlist ⭒

Kaer Morhen was far from silent. The snow had settled on the blue mountains casting a misty haze across the sky and the Witchers had retired home for the winter. They sat gathered round the dim firelit hall sipping on beer and sweetened mead as they boasted about their scars and the exciting stories behind them. Witchers were rare to stumble upon.The trials were dangerous and most people died before completing them. There were as little as 20 witchers left after the massacres, where many of the few men died. Female Witchers were incomparable, unheard of. The trials were nearly impossible for boys, let alone a young girl. Though, some spoke of a woman with eyes as golden as the blazing sun whose magic and strength was comparable to that of mages. A woman who not only passed the trials but exceeded trials beyond those alongside Geralt of Rivia.

You sat slumped against the table in the corner of the room with a dark beer in hand as you studied the scenes of your brothers before you. Many had not returned home. Being a Witcher was a dangerous art and not always a wanted one. You knew that. You could be killed or fatally injured at any unexpected moment. It’s why you all had to keep a keen eye out, a single slip up and it could be game over. Your golden eyes glazed over the men before you. You would be lying to say that your stomach knotted in the absence of Geralt and Eskel. You had grown close with the pair, Geralt had been there throughout your trials, easing you though the burning pain as the herbs coursed through your veins like fire and patching up wounds you could not. Eskel had helped train you to fight. He taught you to never give up. That you could do anything they could. Your enhanced senses meant that you could hear the rattling of the door handle before it slammed open and the muttering died down like a flame. A hooded figure stepped into the room. His pale hair fell in ragged ringlets in front of his face and his eyes that correlated yours melted from the piercing gaze they held as he pulled his hood down. Surprisingly, in tow was a young girl, perhaps around the same age you were when you began your trials.

“Here comes trouble.”

You leaned forwards in your seat as Lambert stood and approached Geralt.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He folded his arms.

“We thought you got lost. Or killed.” Coën jested.

Geralt's eyes softened and a smile crept onto his lips. “Not yet. Sorry.”

Lambert smiled before embracing his brother tightly. “Brother! I knew you’d make a fucking entrance.”

A tall figure lurked towards the front of the room. His hair was much like Geralt’s; it shimmered softly under the light and his eyes were much like yours. Upon his face his moustache and eyebrows were littered with greys.

“Wolf.” When he spoke his voice was firm though you could hear the relief. “You’re home. Finally.”

“Vesemir.” Geralt said, addressing the man. He was as close to a father as Geralt had. As close to a father as all of you had. The young girl who arrived with Geralt, clung to his side, anxiously, wrapped tightly in a fur shawl, which was so large that it tickled her rosy cheeks. Geralt gestured to her. “Had to make a few stops.”

“Hmm.”

A sort of uncomfortable silence encased the room as people waited for what would come next. The cracking of the flames was the only thing heard before you rose from your chair, the old wood creaking as it shifted, and made your way towards your brother. His face lit up with anticipation.

“Geralt of Rivia.” You chuckled. “You never fail to surprise.”

Geralt studied you carefully as you spoke. He noticed all of the new blemishes in your skin and the fresh scar that ran across your eyebrow and down your cheek. He took in your eyes and the way their yellow hues shifted in the light and the smile that was pressed on your lips. He admired your hair and the way you kept it; different from the last time he saw you, but still he liked it. He had missed you.

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

Your lips curved further upwards and your eyes glistened. “Too long.” You pulled him in close and welcomed the slow beating of his heart. He was alive.

“He’s home!” The tender moment was broken by the slamming of a knife in one of the tables followed by the rest of your brothers swarming the man.

It was darker still when the room continued to erupt with laughter at Lambert’s very animated retelling of one of his jobs. The young girl - Ciri, had made herself comfortable with a goblet, her face was lit up with an ecstatic grin. She reminded you much of yourself when you were her age. The wind howled outside, rattling against the door and pounding at the windows.

“Best job I had all year.” Lambert chuckled, taking another swig of his drink, spilling some of it down the side of his face and onto his shirt. He cursed and patted at it with a rag before tossing it back on the table.

Vesemir raised his goblet aloft. “Each of your faces is cause enough for celebration. You’re safe. You made it back. You made it home.”

A series of glasses and goblets were raised in agreement. You raised yours high, morning the missing face of Eskel and your other brother who didn’t make it.

“Here’s to another winter together.”

There were a number of murmurs and follow up toasts, the sound of glasses clinking together and chairs shuffling.

Geralt raised his cup “To the brothers. To our sister. To family.”

“To family” chortled everyone.

A strong draft rushed in as a booming voice sounded from the entrance to the hall. “To forgetting the fucking path! For one fucking night. Who’s ready?”

“Eskel!”

You rushed forwards and embraced him. His expression was tired and there was a thin sheen of sweat cascading across his brow. His dark hair fell across his face where it had fallen out of the tie he had scrapped it into.

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you furrowed your brow. “You look like day old shit.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your shoulder and making his way into the room “Yeah?You should see the other guy.”

Geralt eyed him as he stepped forwards, revealing the long, branchlike hand that was shoved into his bag.

“The bout lasted six hours. I’d have got the fucker too. If I hadn’t lost my elixirs.” He threw the bag on the floor. It landed with a thud which ricocheted throughout the silent room and unsettled the grime on the floor. “Took her hand though.”

“What’s that?” One of your brothers rolled the bag over with his foot. “Is that a leshy?”

“Walked like one. Talked like one. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” You queried, raising your brow.

“I haven’t crossed a leshy in a while.” Geralt said, turning the branch over in his calloused hands. “Not in Kaedwen.”

Eskel pulled down the hem of his coat slightly. It was long and green, frayed at the edges. Bloodied bandages poked through from underneath. “Well count yourselves lucky. Unless you’re aching for the sting of one of their fucking roots.”

“Fire through the heart is the only thing that puts one down.” Vesemir said firmly. “Six hours in, that didn’t occur to you?”

Laughter scattered about the room and Eskel’s face darkened as he made a beeline towards Ciri, who took a sip from her goblet, trying to avoid his gaze and retain her laughter. He made it pretty impossible not to when his face was inches from hers. “Who the hell are you?”

“Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Pleasure to meet you.”

He did not return the greeting, only glared at her for a brief moment before grunting and slipping away. You could tell that something was wrong.

~~~

Your sword rang loudly across the courtyard as it made contact with Geralt's. He grunted as you advanced forwards, forcing him back against one of the pillars. You smirked, pressing the sword closer to him. He shoved you backwards, using his extra strength to force you to the floor. The snow was cold on your body, despite the layers you were wearing as you rolled underneath him, grabbing his uninjured leg and pulling him down to the ground. Scrambling quickly to your feet you forced the sword from his hand.

“You’re getting sloppy, old man.” you chuckled.

“Or maybe I just let you win.”

Shaking your head, you held a calloused hand and helped him up from the ground.

“When you told us you called law of surprise, Vesemir and I told you ‘big mistake.’ You said you promised you wouldn’t claim the child.”

“I had to save her.”

“I know. And you knew I would call you out on it.”

Geralt hesitated and placed his sword in a sheath. “Yeah.”

Your eyes found their way to the floor, tracing the little indents in the snow carved by the shuffling of feet.

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Nothing.”

Geralt's stare spoke for him and you let out a deep sigh.

“Eskel. He’s acting strange.”

Geralt sighed and brushed the hair from his face. “I noticed it too.”

“I sense something is changing, Geralt. Keep Ciri close.”

~~~

Eskels party raved on as you sat, tucked away in the corner with a glass of mead observing the way the flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow over everyone's faces. The witchers swayed and danced and kissed with women from the nearby village. You observed how Eskel was fondled over desperately by a fair haired woman. He hollered and pulled his arm back protectively when she got a fraction too close to his wound that was no longer leaking crimson, but burned like fire. You watched how Geralt, who had been previously absent, walked briskly towards him with angry lines etched on his face. You edged closer, something was telling you this wouldn’t end well. And you were right, you rose quickly to your feet when Eskel got up in Geralt's face. When you pushed the two of them apart, Eskel eyed you angrily.

You could tell his shoulder was bothering him and that he was in more pain than he let on.

“You know, it's funny,” Eskel grunted at Geralt, “Me and the others, we come back here, all banged up. Rock troll busts Lambert's eye. A werewolf takes a chunk out of Coen’s arse…” Eskel’s gaze turned to you and he drank you in, lingering on the pink scar that ran along your face. “And Y/N… Y/N here gets her face torn up by a Bruxa. Was out for days.”

It’s clear from the way that Geralt watches you that you didn’t tell him that one. Eskel smirks and cocks his head. “Hmm, but looks like she didn’t tell you that one did she? And…what do you come back with? All i'm saying is when I find a princess, the last thing i'm gonna do is play knight.” he jested.

He swung at Geralt who quickly countered the punch and pulled his brother into a hold. You skidded to a halt besides the two trying to separate them. Eskel’s face was raging with anger, his eyes piercing like a thousand tiny daggers. “Eskel,” You told him sternly. “Do us a favour, and go to bed.” His teeth clenched and he pulled his hands into fists but before he could do anything, the woman pulled him away down a corridor and deep into the keep.

You turned to leave, to go back to your corner or to join another Witcher, expecting Geralt to return to Ciri or wherever he had been before he caused the stir, but instead he gripped your arm and forced you to face him. You looked at him inquisitively.

“Y/N…”

“Geralt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Bruxa?”

You turned away from him, walking back to your goblet. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“But you told Eskel?”

You whipped back around, his face was laced with concern and frustration. “I didn’t tell Eskel. He was there.”

“He was hunting it with you? Then why didn’t he stop it before you got hurt? I swear to the gods-”

“Geralt. Stop. He found me… we were both coincidentally hunting the same Bruxa.”

“You hate Bruxae.” Geralt stated.

You hummed and sipped your drink. “There was a rumour about a local village being attacked by a vampire. Things had been slow and the pay was good, so I went to check it out. You know Bruxa, they’re quick and she got me from behind. Winded me and pinned me down so I couldn’t get to my weapons. Took a chunk out my face with her claws and nearly drunk me dry. That’s when Eskel found me. He shot her down and took me to an Inn. He saved my life Geralt. I can never repay him for that.”

It was the high pitch buzzing followed by the rapid vibrating of the medallion slung over your neck that caused your head to snap up. Everyone stopped. A low, guttering rumbling spread its way across the room.

“Maybe Eskel’s leshy wants its hand back.” Coën said.

Vesemir’s golden eyes scanned the room, trying to follow the pattering and heaving creaking. “Wield your wits, kids.”

Everything seemed to happen very quickly. Everyone scattered to keep Kaer Morhen safe, darting between corridors and brandishing themselves with their weapons. You slipped away from the crowd to try and find Eskel, if he was preoccupied and didn’t notice, or it was his leshy, he was in trouble, and you felt as though you owed him protection. Geralt, to your surprise, joined you in the eerily silent corridors. You had a feeling he wanted to get to Ciri, but knew he was needed in the fight or, perhaps after your story about the Bruxa, he felt as though he needed to stay by your side.

The weight of your sword was comfortable in your hand as you released it from its sheath, it was almost like an extension of your body; an arm made of silver, a protector, a deadly limb. The sound of your footsteps mixed with the steady drip of water seeping through one of the many spidering cracks in the tall ceilings. Sometimes they seemed never ending as though there was no escape from Kaer Morhen, you would be trapped in its walls forever. A low rumbling ricocheted throughout the keep, shaking the walls and blowing out some of the sconces, plunging more of the halls into darkness. You gripped your sword tighter.

The grand oak doors creaked as Geralt forced them open. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight which flooded in from the skylight and from the chandeliers which swung wildly on their hinges. The pair of you edged your way inside, your eyes and ears sharp as you scanned the room.

“Oh God…” You recoiled. On the left side of the room, the girl Eskel had been with was pinned against the wall, suffocated by a thick rope of branches. One protruded awkwardly from her mouth, a river of blood coating her chin and the offending branches. There was a thud, and you raised your sword aloft to slice through the thick vine that darted out towards you. A second one raced towards Geralt, who sliced through it as though it was butter. The pair of you readied your swords, turning to watch each other's backs and making your way further into the centre of the room. Glinting as it caught the light, your sword swung to destroy another branch, which had made to grab your ankle. The room was silent for a worrying moment. Then, the two of you were assaulted from all sides. The leshy growled as its arms attacked from all sides, breaking walls and bending the wooden framing of the windows. The pair of you swung your swords with precision, slicing and ducking to avoid a deadly ending, though no matter how hard you tried, the two of you were outnumbered. One of the vines, as thick as your arm, wound itself around Geralt, slamming him against the wall with a grunt, out of your reach.

“Geralt!” You cried, trying to make your way over to him in vain, whilst dancing between the onslaught of vines. You could see the witcher struggling, wheezing and clawing at the second branch slivering across his neck, binding him to the stone pillar. You could see him straining, his hands struggling to grip the sconce that hung just out of reach, mocking him. The branches’ attack ceased for a moment, as the leshy rolled in. It was tall and spindly with a humanoid face that looked very pissed off. Geralt dropped beside you as the creature squealed in pain; he had managed to burn the wood with the sconce, casing it to drop him to the ground. With your face stony, you pointed your sword at the leshy. With the help of the flames from Geralt's sconce, the pair of you backed it behind a table. Geralt jabbed the flames at the creature, which caused the bark of its skin to blister and it to growl. When it turned its head towards you, your face dropped.

Staring back at you were the piercing, green eyes of another witcher. “Eskel?”

It came out as less than a whisper, your voice betraying you, revealing the fear behind your mask.

“Y/N…” Eskel panted back. “Geralt.”

The leshy, Eskel, grunted in pain as it stood, tossing the table it hid behind to the side. Geralt dropped the flames and held his sword in front of him. It was only seconds before Eskel was firing vines and the pair of you. Geralt thrust his sword downwards, deep into one of the branches coming towards him. Eskel howled in pain and tossed his brother back into the doors before turning towards you. Desperate to get away from the danger, you rolled across one of the benches. The branches shot over you as you backed away. You were about to strike again, when two protruded from the walls and gripped both of your arms, yanking you backwards against a second cold bench. Two more slithered around your ankles, pinning you to the piece of furniture. They were harsh, thick with thorns and rough surfaces that scratched against your skin. You grunted, squirming to get free, but you were stuck.

“Eskel.” You strained, “I don’t want to hurt you…please.”

The leshy bent over, towering above you so that you could see the scarring on the wooden version of Eskel’s face. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t the witty, gruff voice you were used to, but a fragile, pained whisper. “I came back here…I knew something was wrong.” He swallowed thickly, struggling with his words as you struggled against him with gritted teeth. Where was Geralt? What had Eskel done to him? “I don’t know what happened...”

One of the leshys arms jabbed itself into your shoulder, drawing ribbons of crimson blood. You screwed your face up and bit back a scream.

“I thought I could fight it.” Another branch into the same shoulder. You groaned and clenched your jaw. The next few words were broken and hard to understand, you weren’t sure if it was because of the hazy pain you were in, or because Eskel was struggling against the leshy. Probably both. “I thought…you could help me like I helped you…”

Eskel stared at you, before turning away and screeching loudly. Vessemir stood in the doorway, his sword sheathed behind his back and a javelin which he had just thrown lodged inside the bark of the creature, Geralt stood beside him, weapon at the ready. It yanked it out and ascended into the ceiling as Vessemir removed his sword and began to cut the vines from around you.

“What is this?” He grumbled, pulling you up to your feet.

“It’s Eskel.” Geralt replied. “The leshy’s infected him.”

Vesemir faltered. “But that’s not possible.”

‘

“That’s what we thought.”

The room creaked, the ceiling cracked and the chandeliers swayed as the three of you circled the room. You held your weapon in your off hand as you nursed your injured shoulder. When the leshy’s failed attacks wore thin, it descended from its place in the ceiling and made a beeline for the door. The elder witcher was quick to notice and ordered Geralt to shield them shut. Pissed that its simple escape route was no more, Eskel stalked towards Geralt, albeit didn’t make it very far because you and Vesemir assaulted him with chains that were pinned to the walls. The hooks dug into the bark, keeping him in place. You wound them tightly as he thrashed, suspending him off the ground. Vessemir’s attempts to calm him, telling him you could save him were futile. He just knocked the man to the side, attacking him with lengths of branches, sending him careening to the side.

“Hey!” You yelled, stabbing one of the branches with the point of your sword. The creature turned its attention back to you. It vines wrapped themselves around you, suffocating you in a bone crushing grip. One hooked itself around your neck like a python, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as though your head might fall off from your body. Eskel cocked his head and studied you closely, his eyes twinkled. No amount of yelling or distraction could draw his attention away from you. He was hooked, conflicted between wanting to kill you and wanting help.

“Eskel…” You wheezed, “Please…stop.”

You were completely unaware of the distressed calls of the other witchers and the hum of Geralt's sword as he cast a spell over it, causing it to glow white hot. You were absorbed by the face of your brother as the branches tightened around your body. Your lungs burned and you tried to suck in air, much to the protest of your ribs, which cracked and shifted uncomfortably. It was when that coppery taste flooded your senses and blood fell from your mouth that you stopped struggling. Your vision blurred as you choked, gasping and spluttering. Your ears rang and white spots obscured your vision as you stared blankly up at Eskels face. When Geralt drove his sword into the leshy’s heart, your body slumped to the floor.

“Y/N!” Geralt was quick to your side, rolling you over to face him, agitating the raw wound on your shoulder. You cried out in pain.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “ he hushed, taking you in. He eyed nervously the blood that was seeping from your mouth and ears, some streaming down your nose. There were angry bruises already forming on your neck and winding around your body. As your spluttering began to cease, your eyes began to flutter shut.

“No. No, no, no, no. Keep those eyes open.” Geralt pleaded. You whimpered as he pulled you into his arms, holding you securely to his body. Your head lolled against him as your eyes fluttered. You missed his call to Vesemir, who led Geralt down the hall. You missed the anxious calls of your brothers, who were aghast to see your condition. You didn’t see the way that Geralt’s face contorted at your pained whimpers and the scattering of people trying to make room for you. You missed it all as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When you awoke and your eyes had adjusted to the light, the first thing you were aware of was the dull pain that radiated throughout your body. A throbbing ache mixed with a sharp stabbing pain. The second was the anxious, golden eyed stare of Geralt of Rivia.

“You’re awake.” He whispered, as though he were trying to convince himself.

You groaned as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in your shoulder and across your ribs. There was still a slight wheeze to your breath.

“Easy,” He told you. “You took quite a beating.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke, dry from lack of water. “How long…?”

“A few days. We had to lace you with elixirs…” Geralt sighed deeply. “You had us so worried, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered. In that moment, you remembered something, like someone had turned on a light. “Eskel?”

Geralt shook his head. “Gone. I’m sorry.”

You nodded solemnly. You knew that the chances of saving him were slim, through a rough tear spilled from your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Geralt placed a hand on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by a bloodied bandage. “It’s okay. We still have each other. We have our brothers. We will be okay.”

————

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Whoreson Prison Blues

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader (Ft. Geralt)

Warnings: Violence, language.

Inspiration: Season 2

Summary: Imprisoned and alone you find yourself bonding with your cell mate only to realise that this wasn’t a mere stranger.

It wasn’t exactly how you planned the day to go but there weren’t any regrets. Being beaten and thrown into a cell was a common occurrence recently, in fact you still had bruising from the last entanglement with the knighted patrols.

The third day had nearly passed and a guard tossed a small bowl of water into the cell which spilled onto the floor. He jeered through the barred doors and then turned away when he heard a commotion. To you, it sounded like two guards struggling to detain another unfortunate individual.

“Well, well. Looks like you have a friend.” The duty guard chuckled and then disappeared from sight to open the cell door on the opposite side of the brick wall. There was a harsh shove and somebody hitting their knees on the floor.

“Maybe this will make you think twice about helping the elf-bastards.” A second guard laughed.

The cell doors slammed and you heard the keys jangle as the lock was fastened. Still cackling, all three sounded like they were jesters and decided to walk out and celebrate their win privately. This worked in your favour allowing you to plan an escape until you heard a small mumble through the crack in the wall.

“Reminder to self, file a complaint for these hideous cells. Oh, great - an audience of rats.” The voice sighed.

You didn’t know why but the stranger made you smile. “The rats are pretty decent company.”

“That’s funny. I had a friend who would have said something like that. They were a real badass. We used to travel with this broody, moody, muscled fellow who liked to act complicated.”

Hold on. Now that you listened to the voice more carefully, it began to match a face that you hadn’t seen in months.

“Jaskier?”

“…Yes?” The bard replied. “Who’s asking?”

“Y/n - you wonderful singing fool!”

“And how do I know that you’re who you say you are and not some trick by the guards to lure out information?”

You rolled your eyes but commended that he was being more aware of people in strange lands. The bard used to be far too trusting.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove. Original composer of Toss A Coin To Your Witcher. You have a tendency to woo married women - even tried your luck with me too. You tried to kiss me after getting drunk in Cintra and then again when we were dealing with that werewolf-“

“Okay, you’ve made your point. I can’t believe you’re here. What are the chances?” Jaskier wondered aloud. “What have they got you in here for?”

You paused for a silent second and stared at the metal cuffs around your wrists. It was probably best not to get into detail about what you had done to wind up on the hate radar of this town.

“Better question, what are you in for?“ You deflected.

Thankfully, Jaskier didn’t hesitate to answer and if he was curious, he chose not to follow up on it. He let out a long sigh and you could imagine the look on his face.

“I helped a wanted criminal escape.”

You laughed at the idea of the humble bard being involved in something so prickly. Jaskier didn’t appreciate the reaction and there was a scoff. “It’s true! I’m very close with the Sandpiper.”

The Sandpiper was a name not loudly spoken, so you figured that he wasn’t telling tall tales.

“Alright, I believe you. You’ve been wandering very interesting circles. The Bard and the Piper - you must tell me of the stories one day.” You smiled and rest your head against the stone wall.

Your stomach began to rumble just as the main doors swung open and two guards walked in. You heard a metal tray clattering and recognised that it was the final meal of the day. When the guard approached your cell, you watched as he entered and carelessly tossed the tray down. You had refused to eat anything that was given in fear that it had been poisoned by one of the many people you had pissed off.

You could hear Jaskier trying to salvage what hadn’t touched the floor and was about to tell the guard to jump off a cliff when a round ball of stale bread flew and hit you in the face quite harshly. It rolled off your lap and settled on some hay. You turned to the guard and glared daggers.

“Eat that or get a taste of my blade.” He threatened.

With a huff, you chose to ignore the guards presence all together. It wasn’t long before he left and you took up the measly portion that was more dirt than bread and tore off a piece.

“This isn’t so bad.” Jaskier commented. “Could use some seasoning.”

You stared at what you were eating and wondered if it was hard enough to concuss the guard on duty…

“So how’s the broody fellow?” Jaskier wondered.

At first, you frowned but then remembered who he was referring to. The Witcher who took a lot of patience.

“I don’t know. We parted ways not long after you left. He was being increasingly difficult so I told him as much.”

“How did he take that?” Jaskier wondered, knowing exactly how the man could behave.

You exhaled. “He told me to ‘fuck off’ and left me in a swamp.”

The memory of that day was leaving a bitter taste in your mouth…or maybe it was the bread. Either way, you didn’t want to clutter your mind with something useless.

Jaskier seemed to have silently agreed.

“Well, screw Geralt. We don’t need him.” He said and began tapping on some spoons.

There was a loud clang against the cell bars as the guard slammed his palm across it to get the attention of them both.

“Will you both shut up? You sound like fucking spurned lovers.”

Jaskier laughed at the thought and you were glad that he was fated to be your cell partner. As the guard piped down, the rats scurried over to the bards cell where the spoons clanged a little louder and with a bit more rhythm until Jaskier had a catchy tune.

“It's been a long time travellin'

On roads that lead to nowhere

With hopes and dreams that always rot…” he began to sing softly, pausing every so often to form the artful words.

You waited for the next bit but he seemed to have a bit of a block. Without thinking, you leaned back and looked at your surroundings.

“Sometimes it takes a prison cell to remember how shitty the world is.”

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Jaskier told you and began tapping again.

“Sometimes it takes a prison cell,

The tricks and tales, the traitors' tell,

To help you see that freedom is all you've got.

So lock me up and sock me up,

And throw away the key.

Go fuck yourself, you whoreson.

'Cause you're through fuckin' with me.”

Jaskier was a bard of many talents and you had missed him all because of a falling out with a mutual friend. It must have been the exhaustion of being locked up that you started singing along to the song just to keep occupied.

“Go fuck yourself, you whoreson! Cause you’re through fuckin’ with me.”

A few more rehearsals and you and Jaskier had the duty guards on edge each time you switched shifts. They might be brutes but you couldn’t help but credit their creativity with the death threats.

Another day passed, you were still locked up, Jaskier was now doing solo renditions for the rats, and the bread hadn’t improved in taste or quality. You began to think of a way out of the cell and devised the start of a plan that included stealing the keys with Jaskier’s help. It wouldn’t be easy but if you got your hands on a sword, the guards would be unmatched in skill.

Then, there was an unexpected commotion in the hallway during Jaskier’s song.

“Fucking hell. You know what? We’re trying to rehearse in here.”

You heard the bard complain and then apologise to the rats for the interruption. “Good sir. You would not know talent if I shoved it up your … Geralt.”

You scoffed to yourself and wondered if Jaskier had finally gone mad. “I thought we agreed never to mention that broody grouch ever again?” You called out.

There was silence to the question and some soft talking that you couldn’t quite understand but Jaskier’s voice rose for a second. Then there was a shuffle of feet and you were drawn to your own cell door where a familiar man with white hair and broad shoulders showed his face.

Geralt unlocked you door and walked in. He bent down and worked his Witcher magic to free you of the cuffs.

“I’d say I’m shocked to find you here - but I’m not.” He said, helping his friend up.

You rubbed your wrists and dusted your pants. You looked at the man and shrugged. “You know how it is - chaos doesn’t just come in the form of magic.”

Geralt smiled and you couldn’t help but notice that something was a little different about him - like he was content, almost happy.

“I have no right to ask this of you but I could use your help.” He requested.

You could very easily have told him to shove off and be rid of the man for the rest of your life but Geralt was a friend through so many difficult quests. Plus it wouldn’t hurt charge him the fee of one apology.

“Just to be clear, I’m pissed at you for about a million things but I can’t resist a call for help.” You told him honestly and raised a finger. “One condition, Jaskier comes along.”

As if on cue, the bard walked in. “Say no more, I have no plans to leave. Oh…” his eyes travelled to the locks and chains laying on the floor. “Why the fuck were you chained up?”

Clearing your throat, you pointed to the exit. “Story for the road?”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #witcher imagine #witcher x reader #geralt imagine #geralt x reader

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starfirewildheart · 4 months

Text

Chapter 3

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 1717

They had been traveling for nearly a week. Naurel was getting stronger but Geralt was still worried. He knew something was not as it should be with her but he couldn't seem to get her to open up about the things that had happened. They came to the last city between them and the final part of the journey to Kaer Morhen. He knew they had to stop and restock supplies. Also, the humans needed a soft bed and warmth for a bit. They left the horses at the stable and walked over to the Inn. Naurel was leaning against him, holding his arm to help support herself or for his warmth, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt at peace when they were touching.

Ciri heard someone singing inside the bar at the inn and bound up the steps. “It’s Jaskier,” she said excitedly.

“Ciri,” Gerault sighed as she ran inside ahead of him. “Damn it that girl never listens.” He and Naurel moved faster to catch up with her. Once inside Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm and leaned close, whispering something to her that made her shiver and look repentant before he led her and Naurel to a table to sit. “Stay here where I can see you both while I get us a couple of rooms.”

Naurel waited until he walked away to put her hand on Ciri’s arm that was resting on the table. “You are going to get hurt or end up making him so angry that he’s going to punish you.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not my father. I have no family which makes me an adult. I’m in charge of me.”

“You are far from an adult little miss and you are showing that childishness more and more by the day,” Naurel warned. “He cares about you. He worries about you. Stop making it harder for him.” She knew that Geralt was struggling to figure out how to deal with a child. He knew how to deal with a misbehaved witcher but not a young human girl so he just took what she dished out. The yelling, arguing, not listening, stubbornness that she likely got away with as a spoiled little princess and Naurel was losing patients with her. Ciri was a loving girl but she was being a huge brat. She looked up at Geralt as he sat heavily in a chair beside her, noting that he put himself where his back would be up against the wall. “Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Got two rooms with an adjoining door,” he eyed Ciri, “and a large tub.” He grinned when Naurel sighed happily.

“Mmm, a bath sounds heavenly. Maybe if I boil myself I will actually heat my blood and stop having to steal your warmth,” she smiled at him.

He reflexively pulled her close. “I don’t mind sharing warmth.”

Ciri made a slight gagging sound drawing their attention. “You two need to get a room.”

“We have a room. Two in fact,” Geralt smirked at her. He loved their teasing banter when she wasn’t driving him mad with worry. Naurel was listening to the two of them and jumped when someone plopped down in a chair near her at the end of the table.

“Geralt you gorgeous beast, who are you lovely friends?”

Geralt shook his head and sighed. “Jaskier,” he nodded in greeting. He let Naurel and Ciri introduce themselves though kept his arm possessively around Naurel. Jaskier was a friend but he was also amorous and for some reason that bothered him where his newest companion was concerned.

“How did two such lovely creatures end up with such a grumpy, silent companion?” Jaskier wondered.

“He’s not silent nor grumpy,” you smiled at the bard.

“He’s grumpy and bossy,” Ciri teased.

The waitress approached and Geralt ordered food for the three of them before joining the conversation. “I’m surprised to find you this far north this close to the snowy season. I know you hate cold weather.”

“You are right,” Jaskier chuckled. “Oddly enough I’ve been looking for you. You are a very hard witcher to find. You would think with the white hair, yellow eyes, and rippling muscles that you would stand out more.” Naurel chuckled.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled, stopping the bard from babbling. “Why were you looking for me? Is everything alright?”

“A friend, no, no she’s not a friend she’s a,” he stopped himself before he finished his thought. “Someone we have in common needs to speak with you. She’s rather insistent and very annoying and she keeps following me. I implore you, please speak to her before I throw myself off a cliff.”

Geralt paused as if he was considering the option of speaking to someone or letting him jump, only answering when Jaskier whined indignantly. He had an idea of who the bard was talking about but he wondered why she just didn’t come to him herself. He’d heard that she survived the battle of Sodden from Triss and he was happy to hear his friend was still alive. “Is she here?”

“I’m here,” Yennefer said from behind him. “We need to speak, alone,” she looked at the others pointedly.

He nodded and stood. “Jaskier, stay with them until I return?”

“Of course,” he smiled as he started asking both of them questions.

Yennefer led Geralt to an out-of-the-way corner near the stairs. She noticed that he positioned himself so that he could still see the table. “I need your help. Something has happened. I’ve searched everywhere, through all the lore about magic and chaos except the books at Kaer Morhen.”

“What are you searching for?”

“A spell,” she lied. “I am searching for a spell to try and help Istredd study the monoliths.” She wasn’t going to expose her weakness to anyone. It was bad enough that the old woman was in her head calling to her, telling her to bring both the woman and the girl to her; she wasn’t about to tell him she had lost her ability to do magic as well.

“Why doesn’t that ring true to me?” Geralt gave her a look.

“Fine, don’t help me,” she hissed and started to walk away.

“Yennefer,” he stopped her. “Portal to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is willing to work with sorceresses and mages. He will show you the books you are looking for.”

“Why don’t we just travel together?” she asked. “Seems like you seem to be gathering a rather large party on your journey,” she eyed his new friends. “I could help you look after them. They both seem sort of defenseless.”

He could use some help protecting them since Ciri seemed to be so dead set on getting herself hurt. Maybe with Yennefer’s magic, he could actually rest a bit. “You want to travel, on foot, in the cold. You know it will be snowing soon?”

“Please witcher, the weather does not bother me,” she scoffed and walked back to the group at the table. She made sure to place herself next to Naurel where Geralt had been. Jealousy made her blood boil when she noticed how Geralt looked at the woman. The witcher and his new child suprise were supposed to be her family, not this woman's. She was tired of life screwing her over and giving everyone else what was rightfully hers.

Geralt frowned but sat next to Ciri. “Yennefer has decided to join us for the rest of our journey home.” Naurel looked into his eyes in question but didn’t speak, Jaskier however did.

“I’m going to then,” he insisted.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of her?” Geralt asked.

“Rid of me?” Yennefer scoffed. “I saved your life.”

“No, you distracted him so I could run. That’s not saving me, that's being a tease,” Jaskier argued. Ciri laughed at the two of them.

Their food was served and Naurel picked a small piece off of her bread and ate it as she listened to Jaskier tell stories of his time with Geralt. The bard was funny and he had kind eyes. She liked him. She could see how he would get on Geralt’s nerves though with his knack for babbling and Geralt being stoic and quiet.

‘The redhead! Bring the red head’ the deathless mother screamed in her head over and over. It was becoming hard to ignore but she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with the conversation. “Awe you left out the story of how the three of us met,” Yennefer interjected. “All bloody and dying because of the Djinn. Geralt, ever the protector, riding in to find me to save you.” She saw the muscles in Geralt’s jaw flex as he clenched his teeth.

“Well, he ended up saving you too,” Jaskier snapped. “More than saving you if I remember correctly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

The bard looked up and quickly realized he’d said too much. “But he came to his senses!”

She closed the door behind her before laying on the bed next to her friend. “He thought she was dead,” she explained softly. She wanted to be sure she knew Geralt had not intentionally tried to hurt her though Ciri never realized that Yennefer and Geralt were mates.

“I know,” her voice choked as she lost her battle with her tears. “It’s my fault,” she repeated to herself more than Ciri. She took the comfort Ciri offered and allowed the young girl to play with her hair before she ran over to the chamber pot and vomited.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

#geralt x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic

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wren-of-the-woods · 5 months

Note

I hear you're where to go for Witcher fic recs! How about some with Geralt being protective over Jaskier? Shippy, if you can find any, but I wouldn't mind platonic! I just want Geralt to look out for his bard. Thank you for your time!

Hello!! Here's what I've got! There's a wide variety of settings and levels of angst, so hopefully there should be something for everone :D

As always, please feel free to add more recs or promote your own work in the notes!

Don't Leave Me by @geraskierficrecs (Rated M, 6.2k)

Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--” “Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.” “S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?” Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”

If You Give a Bard a Lute by @ghostinthelibrarywrites (Rated T, 10k)

After Jaskier’s father disowns him, confiscates all his possessions— including Filavandrel’s lute— and kicks him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, Jaskier spends a long, hungry winter barely surviving. When he reunites with Geralt in the spring, his witcher is determined to get his lute back, even if it means recruiting his fellow witchers to stage a heist.

Wild Blue Yonder by @jaskierswolf (Rated T, 5.3k)

Geralt's bookshop is slowly falling apart and he's ready to give up when Jaskier wanders into the store

remember me I sing by @echo-bleu (Rated G, 3.1k - also includes Yennnefer)

Filavandrel's gift was so much more than a simple lute. It seemed fitting, that Jaskier’s soul would be made of wood and strings and beautiful sounds. The problem is that now Rience has his lute and is threatening to burn it if they don't hand over Ciri. And Jaskier has never told anyone that his very life is tied to his beloved instrument.

This Is How I Disappear by @stacyholmes (Rated T, 5.4k)

Jaskier keeps texting unknown number. Geralt keeps reading said texts without answering.

The Footsteps We Follow by thiswildheart (Rated T, 16.5k)

Look, Jaskier's got a lot going on. He's painfully aware that there are cataclysmic events happening and that the troubled teenager he knows might save the world or speed along the end of days. He's also in love with a man who's never even admitted that they're friends, which is almost as bad. Oh, and he's still working as the Sandpiper, only now a terrifying eldritch creature has entrusted him with the Song of the Seven to give hope to the elves and help them fight back against their oppression. It's probably the bravest thing he's ever done, but not everyone sees it that way. Luckily he knows some people who excel at last minute rescues. ... then he just has to figure out how to tell Geralt why so many people are trying to kill him. This is going to go great.

Getting Warmer (orphaned) (Rated T, 8.2k)

Injured and freezing after a kikimora hunt gone wrong, Geralt and Jaskier must wait out a thunderstorm at the bottom of a cliff, huddling for warmth. It is here that Geralt finally confronts his feelings for the bard.

Jaskier and Mountains Just Don't Mix by C4t1l1n4 (Rated G, 3.8k)

Despite the other Witchers' positive reaction to Geralt's bard, Vesemir is reluctant to have a human stay with them at Kaer Morhen so Jaskier attempts to leave and ends up almost freezing to death on the side of the mountain. Hypothermia fic

Immediately, I Love Him (He's Doing His Best) by @hum-my-name (Rated G, 26.5k)

"In which Greg is some sort of guardian angel, I don't know" <><> A few days ago, Joey Batey did an interview in which he created a lovely little character named Greg. A few days ago, I decided to write a cute little thing about Greg and Jaskier being the best of friends throughout the years, with a dash of Geralt and Jaskier friendship as a treat. 13k words later, here we are. Enjoy.

Broken Mirror by happy_hermit (Rated G, 2.1k)

To Geralt’s credit, he waits until they’re well away from Kaer Morhen to ask the question. He also waits until Yennefer and Ciri have gone to bed, which makes the whole thing feel a bit too calculated for Jaskier’s liking, which is to say that he doesn’t like it at all. “Where’s your lute, Jaskier?” Jaskier doesn’t quite flinch, though his heart does something of the sort all on its own. It is very much a wound that hasn’t healed; as is most of him, these days.

Echo by @kingthunder (Rated E, 29.5k)

Jaskier loses his voice the morning after a concert. As he and Geralt find new ways to fill the silence between them, they realize it isn't only Jaskier's voice that's been lost—and getting it back will bring them closer than they've ever been before.

If There's Any Sleep At Night by @smolalienbee (Rated T, 22.8k)

The mare is but a silhouette of a human and yet at his words something passes through her expression - whether it’s surprise, joy, fear, Geralt doesn’t know. But it’s clear that what he said has struck her in some way. (“She is not some mindless monster, Geralt.” He remembers Jaskier’s words.) A mare, also known as a mara or a zmora - a malicious entity, a bringer of nightmares and a demon of the night. An easy enough contract to fulfill, if only frustrating, or at least that’s what Geralt believes when he first sets out to hunt down one such mare. What he doesn’t expect is to be wrapped up in a tale of a wronged soul, of love and of joy.

Also, because I'm not above reccing my own fics, here's a few I've written!

Wash Away the Blood and Tears by me (Rated T, 1.8k)

Jaskier re-injures his fingers while distracting Nilfgaard from Ciri. Afterward, Geralt volunteers to help wash his hair. Or: In which Jaskier gets a bath and a nap, and Geralt gets a new role in the group.

We'll Build a Den Out of Pillows (And Get Drunk Again) by me (Rated G, 2k)

Jaskier gets sick. When Geralt asks how to help, Jaskier jokingly suggests that he build a pillow fort. He does not expect Geralt to take it seriously. Geralt takes it seriously.

If you want more, there’s a Protective Geralt tag on AO3 that I’m sure has many lovely works I haven’t read!

(You can also find my other reclists here)

#wren recs #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic recs #witcher #reclists #twn #asks #anon #am i getting a reputation? how fun!#i guess y'all are catching onto the fact that i have no self-restraing when it comes to reclists lol

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Snowed In

Masterlist

A/N: Alright, don't know why I had this idea or why every last one of my ideas has to grow into 5k words, but have some Mike!

Pairing: Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: You were going to spend the weekend at your dad's cabin in the woods with your boyfriend, but he bails on you and leaves you - quite literally - out in the cold. Good thing your best friend's brother shows up...

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, SMUT, MINORS DNI. First time p-in-v sex, oral (m receiving), Mike being an idiot. Some uncomfortable, awkward mentions of teen feelings. Y'know.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren

You’d stolen the keys to the cabin years ago, and you were fairly sure your dad had no idea you owned copies, because if he did, you’d have been grounded for that - possibly until your fortieth birthday.

Your best friend is covering for you, there is a bag of snacks and other necessities on the seat next to you, and you are facing the prospect of a romantic weekend with your boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

A breakup text after you’ve spent three hours waiting anxiously for him to arrive? Yeah, that'll do it. Now, you’re sitting on the couch in the small cabin, freezing because you can’t start a fire, and crying because you were dumped through a text on the night you were finally going to give it up. Honestly, you’re glad he broke it off before you were able to make that mistake.

Tears are hot on your cold cheeks, and you grab another blanket, but it doesn’t help. Getting dumped and freezing to death seems like a very harsh punishment for sneaking out, really, but it’s slowly becoming a viable threat.

When someone sticks a key in the lock of the door, you almost faint. No one is supposed to be here this weekend. Your dad is out of town on business, your mom doesn’t come here alone... A murderer probably wouldn’t have the keys. Right? On a whim, you turn off the lights and hide behind the couch right before the door swings open.

“Huh? Thought I saw the lights on?” The voice is familiar, but you can’t put a finger on it. “Uncle Walt?” Oh no. No, no, no. There’s only one person in the world who calls your dad that, and it’s Mikey.

Mike Salvatore – the brother of Bianca Salvatore, who just so happens to be your best friend – has been a pain in your ass for as long as you can remember. His dad is a friend of your dad’s, which meant you and Bianca grew up together, and you got to deal with her annoying older brother for free. How fun.

Mike steps inside and turns the lights on. “I can see someone’s in here, I’d really like to know who it is.”

“It’s, eh...” You crawl out from behind the couch. “Me. Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same damn thing. At least I got the keys from your dad.” He sounds upset, and although you can’t quite figure out why, you assume it must have something to do with the fact that you’re in the way of him having a quiet night here by himself. If he didn’t have the same idea as you, that is.

“Oh, I’m just here, freshly dumped on what should have been an awesome weekend with my boyfriend. Never fucking mind me, Mike.” There’s no pretending, no holding back tears, no nothing. Because it doesn’t matter. You’ve been caught, Mike is definitely going to snitch on you. You’re sad and single, you’re freezing and you’re going to be so, so dead.

“I’ll just go.” You try to squeeze past him, but he stops you.

“It’s dark out. I wouldn’t let you drive home even if it was an option.” He sounds so serious...

“What do you mean ‘if it was an option’?” Why isn’t it an option now?

“Sorry, Sweetcheeks, we’re snowed in...” Snowed in? Snowed in? Never in a million years... You stare at Mike, and it takes a while before you realize that your mouth is open. “... so even if it wasn’t dark, and you weren’t upset, we’d still be stuck here.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out, and more tears stream down your face.

“Is there any reason these tears are practically freezing to your cheeks? Are you trying to kill yourself? Because I’m not on board with that, just so you know.” Mike tries to play it off as a joke, but you can see the concern in his eyes.

“Couldn’t start a fire,” you say. For the first time, you realize your teeth are chattering.

“Alright, let’s get that settled first, or else both of us are going to die of hypothermia.” He walks over to the fireplace and laughs when he sees your latest failed attempt at lighting it. “Damn, Sweetcheeks, it’s a good thing I showed up.”

He takes a pocket knife out of his bag and shaves a bunch of thin slivers off the block of wood you had laying in the ashes.

“Grab that basket, would you?” The basket he’s referring to is filled with sticks. “Come here, sit down.”

“Why am I sitting here? I should just stay out of your way.”

“Babygirl, you would have frozen to death if I hadn’t gotten here. You’re learning how to make a fire. Now.” Alright, that does sound like a useful survival skill, now more than ever. And so does ‘breathing normally’, but you can’t seem to remember how to do that, either. Your heart is racing, and you’re past the point of chalking that up to the cold, because it wasn’t nearly as bad before Mikey got here…

“How did you learn?” You ask mostly to distract yourself from your racing pulse and dry mouth. Mikey wasn’t exactly the boy scout type. He was just the annoying older brother type, nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing more. Nothing less. Right?

“I’m a man.” You fight back the urge to snort. That’s a major overstatement. After all, you’re talking about Mikey. Immature, goofy, stupid, dumb, cute– wait, what? “But before I grew up, I was a boy, and they like to set stuff on fire. So, their dads teach them how to do that without burning the house down, and the world is a better place because of it.”

“You never grew up, Mikey, you only got taller.” And somewhere around the time you turned fifteen, he magically got hotter. But that’s not relevant right now, even though it’s fairly hard to ignore now that he’s so close to you.

“Yeah, I have to annoy my baby sister and her cute little friend somehow, right?” Did Mike just call you ‘cute’? You decide not to dwell on it, and instead pay attention to what he has to say. “Alright, fire needs three things: fuel, oxygen, heat. If one of those is not accounted for…” He makes a general gesture at the fireless fireplace.

A few minutes of his slightly condescending explanation later, Mike has actually managed to get a nice fire going. He fills up the kettle with water after ordering you to stay put. You don’t complain; it’s still cold as balls.

“Can I get in on this blanket situation you have going on?” he asks as he sits down next to you. “You kinda took all of them, and I’m gonna get cold, too.” You carefully peel off one blanket-layer and hand it to him.

The tea is hot, the blankets are soft, and the small room is slowly getting warmer. It gets to a point where you slowly unwrap yourself from your carefully constructed cocoon.

“Don’t,” Mike says, “your lips are still blue.” You can only assume he wraps his arms around you without thinking, because… Well, because Mike does most things without thinking, for starters, and because he wouldn’t have done it if he was thinking clearly. Probably.

“Mike, what the hell were you planning on doing here?” you ask. You’re ashamed to think that if you can hear how hoarse your voice is when you say it, Mike can definitely hear, too. And then there’s the thing about not really wanting to find out the answer.

“Eh… There was this chick. She, eh… She bailed on me, but I was halfway here and didn’t feel like turning around.” Is there something in his voice that sounds like he’s lying? Or are your ears deceiving you? Either way… It hurts like a bitch. Which makes no sense because Mike is obnoxious, annoying, gross, and immature.

“Sorry I’m the sucky little stand-in,” you say sarcastically. What you didn’t expect was Mike putting his hands on your cheeks.

“Sucky little stand-in, my ass,” he says, “and get me the name of this guy.”

“You know him,” you say. Mike’s been playing soccer with the guy since they were freshmen in high school.

“Ryan. And you were going to sleep with him.” It’s definitely not a question, but you’re not entirely sure what else it’s supposed to be. The tone in Mike’s voice suggests it’s almost an accusation. “Yeah, don’t say anything, that face is all I need. Fuck, I’m so glad he didn’t show up, baby girl.” His hands fall away from your face, and he wraps you up in a massive hug.

The rest of the night is marshmallows, popcorn, snacks, and games. You never spend time alone with Mikey, it’s weird at first, but you get used to it quickly. Mike is easy to talk to, when he’s not being the annoying older brother. Time goes by fast, and it’s getting kind of late. At some point, you realize that neither of you have really thought about sleeping arrangements.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the couch,” Mike says resolutely, but it doesn’t sit right with you.

“No, it’s okay! I’m a less terrible fit for that couch,” you reply, “you can take the bed.” Mike thinks about that for a second. It’s not a big couch, you’re going to have to curl up enough as is, and Mikey is definitely taller than you. Then he makes a suggestion that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s a double bed,” he says, “we could just…” The living room is toasty warm due to the fire, that’s why your cheeks feel hot. Because of the fire. Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, you will start to believe it.

After some more back and forth on the subject of who deserves to sleep where, you end up in bed together. Mike is clearly more relaxed about the whole thing than you are; you’ve maneuvered yourself as closely to the edge of the bed as possible.

“Would you relax?” Mike chuckles behind you. “We’ve known each other for, what? Fifteen years?” Yeah, that sounds about right.

“But you’re Bianca’s stupid older brother,” you say – out loud, what is wrong with you?

“Yeah, I am,” he admits, “which is exactly why you don’t have to be so… uptight, right now.” Is that his way of saying nothing is going to happen? And why does that sting so bad, for crying out loud? You turn around, so you’re facing him, and if it weren’t for Mike’s incredible reflexes, you’d have fallen out of bed.

“Thanks,” you mutter. “Can I ask you something?” It’s a stupid question; you can always ask Mike anything, you always could.

“Why are you so glad Ryan bailed on me?” Mike laughs when he hears your question, and sighs. As far as Mike is concerned, Ryan isn’t the right guy for you. He’s too much of a player.

“Takes one to know one, right?” you throw back at him.

“Yeah. Well... I don’t have a double-digit body count, he does.” Mike growls. “There’s… some… overlap. Y’know, between the girls he… and the ones I… The… reviews aren’t good, okay. And… And I just don’t want him near you.” The way he’s shy, talking about this all of a sudden, it’s so cute it melts your brain. Thinking Straight? We don’t know her.

“So, what? You’re saying you’d be a better option?” That stupid, stupid, big fucking mouth of yours… You never should have come here. You never should have agreed to sleep in the same bed. All of this could have been avoided if only you’d used your dumb brain. Apparently, Mike disagrees, because he moves closer, pulling you in as he does, until you’re flush against his body.

“I’m saying great white shark would be a better option,” he whispers. He’s so close now that you can feel his breath on your cheeks.

“I feel you’re a step up from a great white,” you mutter, “maybe even more than one.” Where is this coming from? Are you flirting with him? You’re comparing him to a shark. That can’t be flirting – or at the very m it’s incredibly poor flirting. But he’s the one who brought up the shark thing. Maybe neither of you are very good at this?

Mike laughs and mutters a ‘thank you’.

“Turn around, Sweetcheeks,” he says softly, and you hum a sort of question that he seems to understand. “Let me snug up to you, keep you warm tonight, okay?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mikey,” you whisper, shifting uncomfortably. When Mike wrapped you into that hug, you didn’t notice his hand: It’s dangerously close to your ass. Strong fingers flex against you, digging into you, making you shiver. Your own arm, which has been pushing against his shoulder up until now, slides to his back, and you lean your head against his chest.

For a few minutes, you just rake your fingers over his back while he does the same to you, pulling each other closer as you go. It’s tough to ignore the erection pressing into your thigh, so you don’t bother. It’s not as if you’re doing anything wrong. Besides, you can still stop this. As long as you don’t turn your face to his, nothing more has to happen. Then why the fuck do you turn your head?

It’s no use trying to figure out who kissed who first, but from the moment his lips touch yours, you’re lost in him. A soft first kiss soon turns intense and demanding. Mike has a very eager tongue – you should have seen that coming – and is completely incapable of keeping his hands in decent places. All you hear are the moans that escape you both, and the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. You clench your thighs every time Mike grinds his hips into you. Should you be this wet? It’s not just from this, but from everything. The hugs by the fire. Small touches while playing games. The way his hand briefly brushed past your thigh when... God, you forgot what he was even doing when that happened, but just the thought of the way his fingers caressed your skin fuels the fire inside you.

He rolls on top of you, the weight of his body making you gasp, and you make room for him between your legs. If there was still a way back, it’s definitely gone now that his cock is pressed against your pussy. You even wrap your legs around him and pull him closer. Mike chuckles under his breath, bringing up insecurities you didn’t know you had.

“What?” You ask timidly. Mike smirks at you and leans his forehead against yours.

“You’re cute like this,” he says. There’s something gravelly in his voice that seems to vibrate throughout your body.

“Like what?” You surprise yourself with how steady your voice is.

“Horny,” Mike answers plainly. You should have expected bluntness – it’s Mikey, after all – but you didn’t, and now you have nothing else to say. He smirks at you as he lies next to you again. “Bet you’re wet as fuck, too, huh?”

“Mikey!” You slap him on the shoulder and try to turn away, but he holds you firmly in place.

“Oh no, Sweetcheeks,” he says, “you’re not going anywhere.” Hearing the need in his voice sends shivers all through your body. You squirm in his arms in desperation, your cheeks hot with embarrassment because of what he said, but there’s no part of you that even considers actually trying to get away from him. You like this coy little cat and mouse game. Mike’s hand travels down your stomach and into your pajama pants and underwear without hesitation. His eagerness startles you – so does the fact that you don’t try to stop him.

One of his fingers slips between your folds, and he smirks.

“Goddamn, Sweetcheeks,” he says before kissing your neck. You moan when the stubble on his jaw scratches your skin. Suddenly, a memory makes you laugh. Mike quirks an eyebrow as his fingers retreat slightly – you can’t blame him; this is not an appropriate time to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckle, “memories.”

“Of that time you made me cut my face while shaving?” Pff! Lucky guess! Your eyes confirm his suspicion, and he chuckles, too. “My date that night felt really bad for me, so thanks, I guess.”

“What even startled you?” He’d seen you barge into the bathroom he and Bianca shared countless times at that point, so what was different that time?

“You and Bibi had just gotten back from summer camp; I hadn’t seen you in a few months and...” His voice trails off and he doesn’t seem prepared to keep talking. No dice.

“And what?” you continue your interrogation. “What changed.”

“God, Sweetcheeks, don’t make me say it! I’m gonna sound like such a perv!” He tries to bury his head in your neck, but you push back. All of a sudden, you realize the hand he had stashed in your pants, has moved to your ass. Mike groans, because he realizes you’re really going to make him answer. “You left for camp, like... Flat. And you came back kinda, sorta... fully equipped.”

“You cut yourself shaving because you were checking out my rack?” Fucking unbelievable. No, actually, scratch that. Completely believable. You laugh when you see the monstrously guilty look on his face. Mike really looks like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I actually cut myself because I turned my head to look away.” Oh. Well... Mike picks up on your confusion somehow. “They were nice. But also attached to my sister’s best friend.”

“And now you’re feeling me up in my dad’s cabin in the woods.”

“A dream come true,” he laughs. Does he mean it? From the looks of it... “I mean it. I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for years.”

You can’t believe your ears! Mikey has a crush on you?

“I wish I could say the same, but I thought you were fucking annoying until a few hours ago,” you say without thinking.

Mike grins ear to ear. “Right.”

“I’m serious!” You are! You really are serious! Someone can be both annoying and hot, right?

“I believe you,” he says as he pulls you closer. “I also believe you’re more than a little hot for me now.”

He’s right – obviously. Your body is on fire, heart racing, butterflies fluttering in your stomach – all because of him. His lips on your neck confirm it, his hand squeezing your ass, slowly moving back around to work its way between your legs, his breath on your ear as he softly moans when he slips two fingers into your pussy. You want to fuck him. End of story.

“Goddamn, Sweetcheeks,” he moans into your mouth, “I might lose my patience over this juicy pussy.”

“What patience?” you tease. Mike never had much to begin with, and to be perfectly honest, yours has taken a hit to the point where you’re almost begging him to take you. His fingers slip out of you and find your clit. It’s almost impossible to focus on what his hands are doing while his cock is still pushing into your thigh, but at the same time, the way those fingers move, drawing tight circles around your swollen, sensitive little pearl consumes every fiber of your body.

“Don’t tempt me, please,” Mike groans into your ear, “I wanna do this right. You finish first.” Somehow, it never occurred to you that he’s actually trying to make you come. You give his hand the slightest nudge to the side, holding your breath for the reaction that move usually gets you, but it doesn’t happen. He just takes the advice and keeps going.

From then on, practically the only words out of your mouth are ‘fuck’ and ‘oh God’ as he works you up to your climax with surprising ease. He chuckles softly, as if he’s as surprised as you are – and in all honesty: he probably is. It takes you some time to notice the way he’s grinding his hips into your side, and you turn in his arms, forcing him to pull his hand away from your oversensitive clit. Following a deep breath, your hand trails his chest and stomach until it rests on the bulge in his pyjama pants. A cocky – pun not intended – grin appears on his face when he watches you bite your lower lip. He’s big – bigger than you’re used to, anyway. With your free hand, you push the hem of his t-shirt up until he takes over and pulls it over his head. He moans when you lick and kiss his neck, but to your surprise, he stops you when you move further down.

“Have at it if you wanna,” he says shyly, “but only if you want to. I don’t... I won’t return the favor, just... So we’re clear on that.” You’re not sure whether you’re imagining things, or if the pitch of his voice climbs as you make your way down his chest and stomach, leaving a few love bites here and there, listening to Mike groan and feeling him squirm in anticipation as if he’s never had a blowjob before in his life. He sits up, giving you more room to get as comfortable as possible, and leans back against his pillow with an impatient smirk.

You can’t suppress a chuckle when you pull Mike’s pants down and his cock springs free. It’s the way it just... moves that makes you laugh. Mike fakes looking offended and then laughs too, only to stop abruptly when your tongue touches the tip of his cock.

Teasing a guy is easy. Find out what he likes from a shockingly long list of maybe three whole things, and then do that so very lightly that he wants to grab your hair and slam his dick down your throat. Or so you’ve been told. Ryan was too impatient for you to ever try it out, but Mikey seems like a very willing victim. Every time he squirms or moans, or his leg twitches when you change your approach, you laugh softly. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he gently guides you further down onto his cock. He looks down at you and smiles like an idiot.

“Fuck, Sweetcheeks! I don’t know if this is a really good blowjob, or it’s just been a while but...” He stops talking – which is probably for the best. You lose any and all interest in his dick and sit up again.

“Mike,” you try to sound stern, but he looks so mortified that you can’t help but laugh, “what the fuck?”

“In my defense,” he says awkwardly, “there was a really pretty girl sucking my cock, therefore I wasn’t thinking. Like, at all.”

You crawl up until you’re straddling his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. Mike rests his hands on your hips and squeezes you lightly as he leans in to kiss you again. His lips all but force yours apart in their enthusiasm, and he slips his tongue into your mouth as soon as he can. Somehow, it’s the boyish impatience in everything he does that makes you fall for him even harder. It’s the eager kiss, those hands that can’t seem to be still for even a second, the moans that turn into whines whenever you move your hips…

“I can’t wait anymore,” Mike pants when he breaks your kiss, “I want you.”

Part of you wants to tell him to stop, that you don’t want him, that this was a mistake – but that part of you is a liar. You’ve wanted this for years, even Bianca knows that. She never said anything about it, and you never pushed it because Mike is her brother, and you always thought it would be super weird, but you’re never getting this chance again, and if you don’t go for it, you know you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. That realization makes it all the more painful when Mike stops his exploration of your neck and chest and looks at you for a long moment – a very long moment.

“Are you sure about this?” he finally asks, and only then are you able to exhale that breath you were holding in without even noticing.

“Yes,” you say after swallowing the lump in your throat away.

“And because you’re so sure about this and ready for it,” Mike continues, “you remembered to bring protection, of course?”

Jackass. You roll your eyes at him and make sure to grind your ass against his cock extra hard when you get up to grab your bag. Normally, you couldn’t throw anything to save your life, but now, the small box of condoms hits Mike right in the… palm of his hand. Because he can actually catch things, as it turns out. Too bad, you were aiming for his face.

The room is pretty cold, and even though Mike never actually took any clothing off you, you’re freezing. All you want is to get back under the covers with him, but you can’t seem to move. Mike tosses the box onto the nightstand and throws the covers back by means of an invitation while he finishes getting naked. It takes a goofy smile and his reaching out his hand for you to finally move closer to the bed again.

“I’m nervous,” you say softly as you crawl into his arms. He squeezes you, it’s lovely. He’s not buff, but he’s stronger than he looks, and it’s very reassuring.

“So am I,” he says to your surprise. Your face must have asked the question for you, because he continues: “I want it to be good for you. Not that I normally don’t… Oh, fuck, never mind. I just want to make sure you have a nice first time.”

Mike slips his hands back underneath the fabric of your pajama shirt, only this time, he lifts it so he can pull it off you. Those hands may have wandered everywhere, but his eyes haven’t, and it makes you insecure until you see the look on his face. The hasty, sloppy kisses to your neck and shoulders are almost a form of keeping decorum, a way to pretend he doesn’t want to go straight for your chest, but he still makes it there within seconds. When he explored the rest of your body, his focus was fleeting – exactly what you were used to from him, because that’s exactly what he always does with everything. Now, however, he shows a level of commitment and dedication you’ve never seen in him. His lips wrap around one of your nipples, and you shriek when he sucks softly. The feeling itself is amazing, but the sounds that Mike lets out are even better. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind that he loves what he’s seeing – although, at the moment, you doubt he’s seeing much to begin with, because his head is buried against your chest.

“Mikey!” you hiss when he gently bites down on your nipple. That finally gets him to let go of your breasts and kiss you again.

“Sorry,” he says when he breaks away again, “you have awesome boobs.”

As he kisses you again, he pushes your pants down your legs. Despite the nerves that still gnaw on your insides a little, you help him. For a while, it’s relatively easy to calm those pesky jitters down a little, until Mike reaches for the box on the nightstand.

“Are you sure about this?” Mike asks as he positions himself between your legs after putting a condom on. The tip of his cock pushes at your entrance in the most teasing way. When you nod, Mike kisses you softly before he pushes into you. He goes slow, and he’s really gentle, but you still wince.

“Whoa!” Mike stops moving as soon as he hears you hiss softly while your face scrunches up from the pain. “Relax, okay? Take a deep breath.” You do as he tells you, breath catching in your throat as he slides into your core further – this time it feels amazing, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning loudly. Mike chuckles when he hears you.

“Good?” His voice is strained, as if he’s having trouble behaving – and knowing him, he does. You nod again, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the new sensations in your body. When Mike moves his hips, you gasp. His movements are slow and shallow at first, but once he realizes you can take him, they become deeper, faster and more enthusiastic.

“Oh my god, Mikey!” you squeal when he hits a good spot inside you. Your fingers find their way into his curls, and you pull him down to kiss him.

“Feels so good,” you mumble against his lips. Mike’s lips pull into a grin, you can feel it.

“Fuck,” he hisses. His hips slow, but he doesn’t stop. Still, it makes you sad, because – and you can’t believe you’re actually having this thought – you want him to pound you.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, and you give Mike a pouting look.

“Hey, this is hard work!” Mike says quasi-offended. You both laugh – it feels strange, with him still inside you. When you stop, he looks at you in earnest. “Besides, I don't want this to be over yet.” He continues his slow tempo for a while, as he keeps kissing your neck, your chest, circling your nipples with his tongue, rolling the sensitive little buds between his fingers, making you squirm in every possible way until you’re almost begging him to fuck you hard again.

Suddenly, Mike lowers his head until his lips are right next to your ear. “Ready?” he whispers, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. His grip on your hip tightens, and his other hand crosses your back to grab your shoulder. Mike holds you tight as he slams his hips into you, leaving you breathless. He’s rough, not to the point where it hurts, but definitely approaching that edge. It feels amazing. You wrap your legs around his waist and close your eyes as your head falls back. A few harsh thrusts make you shriek. Mike hides his groaning in your neck before collapsing on top of you.

You whine when he pulls out, your walls suddenly clenching around nothing again. It’s a strange sensation after what you just experienced. Empty. Lonely. It gets even worse when Mike gets up.

“I’ll be right back.” Somehow, it’s not very reassuring. You curl up under the covers, fighting back tears. How could you sleep with your best friend’s stupid brother? Bianca will never forgive you…

“Whoa! Are you alright, Sweetcheeks?” Mike crawls into the bed behind you and wraps his arms around you.

“Bianca is going to kill me,” you say. Mike laughs, which annoys you. A lot. “Mikey, it’s not funny! She’s my best friend and you’re her brother!”

“Sweetcheeks,” Mike says, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? Just come here, let’s go to sleep.” He pulls you into his arms, and for a moment – one that happens to last until the next morning – everything is perfect.

You wake up to twelve missed calls from Bianca and several text messages, the last of which reads ‘I know – I hope… – you’re busy licking my brother but call me back, maybe?’

#henry cavill characters #mike hellraiser fic #hellraiser mike #mike (hellraiser)#mike hellraiser #mike hellraiser fanfiction #mike hellraiser x reader

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poledancingdinos · 4 months

Text

Hostile Territory - Chapter 20

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: none for this chapter

Catch up: Series Masterlist

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Masterlist

Day 203

After arguing a little, Ash let Leah pay the normal hourly rate for his work and gave her a final hug before seeing her off.

“So,” Sy began as they stood outside the shop, “where to now?”

That was a good question. Leah had been stunned to see Sy—thrilled—but stunned. All she knew was that she wanted to keep him close but she also couldn’t miss her appointment with Ash. After that, well, she’d been too focused on not messing up Ash’s lines to think about what they would do next.

“I’m going to guess you’re starving since all you’ve eaten since you showed up on my doorstep was a couple of strawberries so… Dinner?”

Dinner was the obvious answer considering it was almost six o’clock but what kind? Did she take him home and make him wait while she found something to cook? Did they go out? If so, where? Was this a dinner and a movie type of thing or a drinks at the bar type of thing?

“I am starvin’. Why don’t you tell me where I can get your favorite takeout and I’ll meet you back at your place?”

Leah released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. That sounded perfect. She didn’t know why Sy made her so nervous. She’d never been one to turn into a blubbering mess in front of a guy but damn did she feel like a kid going up to her first crush on the school playground. Maybe it was because, for the first time, she really wanted a relationship to work out.

“There’s a little place on 2nd Street. Every time the guys talked about what they wanted to eat when they got home, I thought about their bacon cheeseburgers.”

Sy’s desirous groan confirmed that he was fully onboard with that idea. Leah laughed, holding out her hand.

“Give me your phone and I’ll pull up the address for you.”

Sy did as requested, holding on a second longer than necessary as their fingers brushed together.

“Why don’t ya put your number in there while you’re at it. I figure that’s something a good boyfriend should have.”

Leah pursed her lips as she bit the inside of her cheek. “Is that what you are to me now?”

“Give me the next two weeks then you can decide for yourself.”

Why was this man so damn smooth? And how was he still single? The women in Georgia must have been blind. Or maybe Sy just wasn’t around enough to really get to know anyone.

“If you get me that bacon cheeseburger then you might just be able to do it.” Leah finished up with Sy’s phone handing it back to him. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

After seeing Sy off, Leah rushed home, making a mental list of everything she needed to clean before Sy came back. She started with the living room which had the empty snack wrappers from the previous late night with her brother. She then took the trash out back and moved on to the bathroom to remove all signs of female life. Her wax strips, razor and shaving cream were unceremoniously dumped in a basket under the sink before she threw her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. Finally, she changed the sheets on the bed, not remembering if she had done so before leaving in order to come home to an already fresh set of sheets.

The front door opened just as she finished fluffing the pillows. She made her way back down, drawn by the familiar scent that reminded her of her many amazing family nights growing up. Sy finished taking his boots off then lifted the paper bag. “Kitchen or couch?”

“It’s probably best if we eat this at a table but we can do a movie on the couch afterwards.”

“Sounds good.”

It was difficult to maintain any kind of conversation over dinner with how messy the burgers were but they both devoured their food so fast that there wasn’t enough time for it to get awkward.

“You were right,” Sy declared after finishing the final bite of his burger. “I’ll be dreamin’ of that meal once we get back.”

“How you just ate two of those and haven’t yet fallen into a food coma I do not understand.”

Although, in Leah’s experience, the more she trained and gained muscle, the hungrier she got. With a body like Sy’s—which looked to be about ninety percent muscle—he was probably capable of eating that much on a daily basis.

Sy huffed a laugh at her comment, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “I may still fall asleep during the movie.”

Leah stood, throwing the wrappers in the trash and swapping the empty soda cups for beer bottles from the fridge.

“I need to take the wrap off my tattoo before we do that. My jeans are pressing on my skin and it’s starting to hurt.”

Sy opened his eyes, reaching a hand out to catch Leah around the waist and pull her to sit sideways on his lap. She didn’t resist, letting herself be moved and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Don’t stay uncomfortable on my account.” His thumb traced the exposed skin of her side. “What would ya have put on if I hadn’t been here?”

A shiver ran down Leah’s spine at the gentle touch. “Umm… Probably an old t-shirt and boyshorts.”

“Ya didn’t seem worried about undressin’ at the shop. Would it be different with it just bein’ the two of us here?”

No, she hadn’t been worried at the shop and she wouldn’t be uncomfortable undressing now. However, she did care about her appearance. Comfortable and sexy didn’t often go hand in hand. Leah may not have been trying to tempt Sy into bed but she didn’t want to look like a slob either.

“I guess I shoulda asked before now,” he added after a moment without an answer, “but do ya wanna tell me what your limits are?”

Leah wasn’t quite sure what Sy meant but she’d only heard the word ‘limits’ used in a handful of contexts.

“Like kink limits?”

“That too but I meant any sort of boundaries ya have.”

Sy took a deep inhale, his expression turning thoughtful as he carefully considered his words. The last thing he wanted was for Leah to misunderstand his intentions.

“Imma be honest here,” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “I don’t care if we don’t have sex or if we don’t do anything else that would get either of us off but it would be real hard for me if physical contact was fully off the table. I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable or do something against your will. If there’s anywhere ya don’t want to be touched I’d appreciate ya lettin’ me know before I do something wrong.”

“Is that why we’re having this conversation with me sitting on your lap?”

Sy looked down as if he hadn’t realized what he’d done. It was like wanting to have her close was so deeply ingrained in him that he’d done it on instinct.

“Yeah, sorry.”

He moved to lift her off but Leah stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“No, it’s okay, I like this. I’m okay with cuddling, kissing or sitting on your lap but…”

“But I should keep my hands in safe territory and avoid anything sexual?” Sy finished when she hesitated for too long.

“Yes but no…” Leah shook her head, making her hair fall over her face. “I know it’s stupid but if you’re doing it for you then it’s usually okay but if it’s with the intention to get me off then it’s usually not.”

It made Sy angry to hear Leah talk about herself that way. It occurred to him that Leah, although confident in her physical abilities and skills in the field, always struggled to express her feelings or share personal thoughts. She usually responded better to specific questions but they still appeared to take a toll on her.

“It’s not stupid. Nothing ya feel is stupid, okay?” He held her tighter, moving a hand the back of her neck in the hopes that the gentle pressure would help soothe her. He was working off a hunch he’d had for a while that Leah had submissive tendencies. Though she didn’t like feeling out of control, Sy had an inkling that she would appreciate giving it up to someone she trusted. And that she needed more praise in her life. “You’re doin’ real good, darlin’, this is helpin’ me understand. When ya say it would be okay when it’s for me, would ya enjoy it or would ya tolerate it?”

“If I was in the right mood, I’d want to make you feel good and I’d enjoy it.”

“But you wouldn’t want me to reciprocate?”

Leah shook her head ‘no’.

“Okay. Thank you for tellin’ me.” Leah leaned into Sy’s hold on her nape, some of the tension finally leaving her body. “Is there a reason talkin' about this is so hard for ya?”

It scared him to ask the question but he needed to know if the reason for Leah’s discomfort was because of a bad past experience or if it was just how she was. Leah had kept her eyes averted the entire time and Sy fought the desire to tip her chin up, not wanting to risk her shutting down completely.

“I guess I find it embarrassing to explain so it was always easier to just act like I was into it.”

Sy touched his forehead to Leah’s temple, closing his eyes as he calmed himself.

“Don’t ever do that with me.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. “If you’re not into it, nothing happens. We don’t need to get deeper into all this tonight but you have to promise me that much.”

Leah shifted on Sy’s lap, turning to face him more fully. Sy’s intense gaze met hers, conveying how deeply he cared about her and her wellbeing.

Feeling a little too overwhelmed for words, Leah pulled Sy forward and gently pressed her lips to his. He let himself be moved, giving her control to slowly explore the kiss.

When they parted, Leah had a shy smile on her face. “I promise.”

“Good girl.” He kissed her temple and tapped her good thigh twice. “Now go get comfy and I’ll finish cleanin’ up in here.”

“If I change then you should too.”

“I’m not the one with a massive wound on my leg but I can take my pants off if that’s what ya want.”

Leah rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Well, it wouldn’t be a hardship but I meant you should put on shorts or sweats or something.”

After Sy agreed to change, Leah went upstairs and made sure her tattoo was clean and dry before slipping on her boyshorts and oversized t-shirt. She looked herself up and down as she tied her hair into a loose ponytail, declaring herself as ready as she could be.

When she returned, Sy had already made himself comfortable on the couch, scrolling through the movie options. He’d changed into what looked like thin sweatpants and was stretched out in the corner of the L-shaped couch.

“Don’t move for a second.”

He watched as Leah pulled what looked like a drawer out from under the main section of the couch and popped it up to form a mattress sized couch.

“Well that’s convenient.”

“Dad got sick of me and Caleb fighting over the single ottoman we had so he bought this couch instead.”

Spotting the instant change in Leah’s mood, Sy stretched out his arm in invitation. She crawled forward, snuggling into his side and gratefully accepting his quiet comfort. Conveniently, Sy had chosen the side of the couch that allowed Leah to rest on her good hip so she made herself comfortable with her other leg over Sy’s lap.

“Did you find something to watch?”

Sy flipped through the titles again. “I don’t recognize most of the names but I’m up for Friday Night Lights, Taken, Coach Carter—”

“Ooh, I haven’t watched Coach Carter in forever.”

“Coach Carter it is.”

He started the movie and handed Leah her beer, taking a sip from his own. The weight of Leah’s body against Sy’s appease an ache that had been growing stronger in Sy since he’d met her. It had started in earnest after the whole Sharpie tattoo incident, turning into a bone deep need for her touch.

After careful consideration, he placed his hand on her thigh just above her knee. When she didn’t flinch with pain, he began tracing patterns over her skin.

They both managed to stay awake throughout the whole movie although Leah was definitely struggling to keep her eyes open. Sy switched off the television as the credits began to roll and slipped off the couch, leaving a grumbling Leah behind.

“Come on, baby girl, I’m sure your bed will be more comfortable.”

She smiled sleepily scooting out from the center of the couch. Sy couldn’t help himself, he leaned down and pulled Leah into his arms.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Yeah, but the last time I carried ya up a set of steps I couldn’t do it how I wanted. Indulge me.”

Leah pressed her nose into the crook of his neck, humming in appreciation. Sy carried Leah into the bathroom, seating her on the counter. “I’ll leave you to it while I go get my bag.”

“Okay. My room is the one on the left of the stairs.”

After brushing her teeth and relieving her bladder, Leah grabbed her trusty ink towel and set it up in her bed.

“What’s that for?” Sy asked as he came in and closed the door.

Leah took the tie out of her hair, shaking it out. “Blood is easy to get out but ink, not so much.”

“Only you could tell me that blood stains are easy to get out as if it’s an everyday occurrence and without a lick of sarcasm.”

Sy reached behind his head, pulling his shirt off by the collar. Leah shamelessly studied his chest and stomach. His hair had grown back but she didn’t mind it one bit. The pants came off next, leaving Sy in only his underwear and the man looked damn good.

“Well,” she began, shaking herself out of her six-pack induced trance and getting under the covers, “all you need is hydrogen peroxide and it comes right out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sy joked, catching Leah’s chin and tipping her head up for a languid kiss that made her melt into the mattress.

“G’night,” he whispered, placing a final peck on her cheek before switching off the light.

Reversing their positions from their night at the motel, Sy slipped an arm under Leah’s head and drew her closer until her back was pressed to his chest. After a short moment of silence, Sy spoke up again. “For the record, the southern charm worked.”

Chapter 21

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