“We leave Oxenfurt at nightfall. Plenty of time to take a bath before then.” Jaskier’s voice drifted up to you as you descended the creaky wooden stairs, arms piled high with dirty linen. The sheets stank to high heaven, and you wrinkled your nose. Soldiers never seemed to bathe.
“Bard.” You nodded to him… and his companions. A woman glanced at you, purple eyes narrowed as she tugged her hood back over her head. You frowned, an irrational pang shooting through your chest as you met the gaze of her perfect face.
“Jaskier, who’s this?” The woman turned back to your bard, seeking answers from him rather than asking you. You pulled a face, dumping the linen in the basket on the table. That was all the bedding, every room emptied of its soiled sheets, or at least you hoped you had remembered all of them.
Your bard introduced you as the barmaid, reducing your importance to your occupation. Lips pursed, you grabbed the other set of keys from behind the bar. Hmm. Maybe you needed to rethink the inn’s security measures.
“I’m stripping the beds. Do your sheets need washing?”
His eyes flickered between you and the woman, who raised one perfect eyebrow at him.
Ah. You understood.
You sighed. “I’m taking that as a no. Can I offer either of you two anything? A drink? Lodgings?”
You made eye contact with the soldier behind her, nodding a welcome. He frowned, a deep mistrust laid into every hesitant motion as he nodded back.
“We… A place to have a wash would be nice.” The woman stumbled over her words, a sharp contrast to her previous confidence. You gave her a once over, your gaze running over her familiar features. She was probably some Countess or something, someone famous enough in these areas to be recognisable.
“There’s a bathhouse down the street, or I can get the tub ready.”
She glanced back at the soldier, who shrugged. “The tub would be lovely, thank you.”
“I’ll put them on your tab?” This was directed to the bard, who spluttered a protest, before you cut him off with a roll of your eyes. “It’s not like you’re paying it.”
You grabbed a key from under the bar, scanning the books for any pre-agreed occupants for the night. You wouldn’t have time to change the sheets before these two left, and on the days they were dirty for new occupants, Lefric would sigh and cut your tips. The woman took it from your outstretched hand, hovering awkwardly while you ducked back under for the linen closet key and grabbed an empty basket.
“Right, follow me. I’ll get you some towels and start heating the water. Are you happy to share the tub?”
She glanced at her soldier, both shrugging somewhat indecisively.
You pulled two sets of towels out of the linen cupboard and sets of fresh sheets for the bed, chucking them in your empty basket haphazardly. “It’ll be quicker if you do. I’ll just boil one lot of water.”
“Yeah, thanks,” the woman struggled to hold all the towels you gave her, “that’s brilliant.”
:.
“Y/N?” The bard wheedled, eyes pleading as you replaced the ale barrel behind the bar, scowl etched into your features. The sheets fluttered outside on the line, hung between the inn and its opposing building. You glanced out again, frowning at the water dripping off of them. With the grey, overcast skies, they were taking a while to dry.
“Y/N?”
You skimmed off the first inch of beer, pouring it out of the window with a scoff. The rag was dirty enough to put more smears on the glasses as you cleaned, but it did a good enough job that the drunkards wouldn’t notice.
“Y/N.” The bard grabbed your shoulders, stopping you from turning away from him as you avoided eye contact. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m working. Can you just let me finish my job?”
He dropped his hands to his side, nodding with a sigh.
Picking back up the cloth, you scrubbed at a particular stuck spot and rinsed the whole thing in the bucket before flipping it over to dry. Repeating it for every single glass got monotonous and you almostwished you could just chat to the bard. But you were pissed off. You had been strung along and you weren’t going to stand for the slight to your dignity, even if you were a lowly barmaid.
He trailed behind you at all times, looking like a kicked puppy every time you turned back. Honestly, if you scowled anymore, you were pretty sure that your face would stay that way. You grabbed the sheets off the line, folding them not-so-neatly, and chucking them back in the basket to replenish the linen cupboard.
“Are you done yet?” He whined as you returned to the bar, nothing else to pretend to keep your hands busy with.
“Yes. What do you want?”
“Hey, hey, hey!” He threw his hands in surrender, frown working its way onto his face. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.” You spat the pet name, bitter on your tongue as it reminded you just how much of a true flirt he was. You had been so stupid to just believe him.
His smile dropped. “Y/N?”
He sounded so lost, thoroughly confused as you clenched your jaw.
“You’re not going to leave me, are you? Please don’t leave me.”
You scoffed. His audacity was astounding; he probably just wanted to be the one to end things. And playing on your sympathy was just cruel at this point.
“Go on, off with your other women.”
The bard frowned, opening his mouth as he failed to come up with any sort of protest. And then he gagged, face twisting with disgust. “Gods, eurgh, no, you don’t mean that she-devil, do you?”
It was your turn to frown.
He chuckled, that familiar smirk spreading across his lips. Gods, you wanted to slap it off of him. “Are you jealous? Why, you’re practically green!”
“Don’t.”
He grabbed your hands. “Y/N, trust me when I say that I would not want to come within ten feet of Yennefer if I had a choice. She’s an… old enemy. Very old worst enemy. And she could never compare to my favourite muse.”
You bit back a soft smile. “Jaskier, you’re sickeningly cliché.”
“But you clearly love it.”
At that you finally laughed, and a mirroring smile burst across his face.
“You’ll have me. You’ll always have me.”
And even still, the unspoken words of hurt lay between you two as you brushed back his hair, knowing far too well who he was thinking of.
“Jaskier, I will never be like him. I will never leave you. I promise.”
You clutched your books to your chest, half-empty bag slung over your shoulder as you hauled your stuff to class. The clock chimed and you swore loudly, drawing scandalous looks from some old birds having a brisk morning walk before knitting or whatever else old people did in Oxenfurt. The looming university building seemed ever further away as the chiming bells reminded you just how late you would be.
You gulped down your panting as you tried to compose yourself before entering the lecture hall, forehead beaded with sweat. The door creaked open, warning of your presence, and you winced. It was already packed full of students in there, eyes watching your every move as you tried to slip in silently.
Filia waved at you, movements exuberant as your own mood gradually deteriorated. Why had she chosen the middle row? You pushed past your peers, a grimace firmly etched onto your face as you murmured Sorryrepeatedly. This was mortifying. Dumping your stuff down onto the table, you dropped into your seat. The pile of books in front of you was looking like a great place to bury your head in at this point.
“Isn’t this so exciting!?” She started off whispering, voice too eager to be kept quiet for long.
You frowned. “What is?”
“We’ve got a guest lecturer today.”
You peered over the pile of your stuff at the man, who was wearing a pressed silk doublet and had a verynice lute slung over his shoulder. You wrinkled your nose. “Another man? And looks like he comes from nobility as well.”
“It’s better than Schneider droning on about iambic pentameter and rhyming couplets again.”
You swept off the books into your bag, clearing the desk to leave room for your writing utensils. If the speaker actually made any points of use you wanted to note them down. “Yes, well anything is better than that.”
The lecture was surprisingly good; the man clearly knew his stuff, and had an attitude – you hesitated to call it arrogance but that did seem to fit best – that added an element of humour to the otherwise dry technicalities. And it was nice to have a younger lecturer for once. Schneider must have been reaching seventy or so years at least.
“Oh, wasn’t he dreamy.” Filia mock-swooned, pressing a hand to her forehead. You shook your head, continuing to pack your bag as a small smile played at your lips. His looks had played a small part in your enrapturement, but you preferred to say it was because of the quality of the lecture.
“Mhm,” you slung your bag onto your shoulder, “do you mind holding back for a moment? I have a question I wanted to ask.”
The man looked up as you descended the stairs towards him, boots a little too clunky for the narrow steps so you gripped the hand rail tightly. He broke away from Geert and Schneider, the latter of which continued talking without really noticing his disappearance.
“We really enjoyed the talk,” Filia gushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in that way you knew all too well from drunken nights out where she was soon surrounded by adoring fans.
He raised an eyebrow, gaze drifting over to you in a way that made heat crawl up the back of your neck. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“I… I had a question, sir.” You clutched your bag a little closer to your chest, unnerved by the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Oh, please, not sir, call me Jaskier.” Jaskier. Oh and of course he had to go have a name that you could imagine moaning. No. These were bad thoughts. Heat crept up the back of your neck. “And you are?”
You frowned slightly, mind still very much focused on his name. Oh. Fuck. You blurted out your name, eyes widening at your too loud voice.
Jaskier took a step closer, eyes afire with something you didn’t quite recognise. “Go on then, what’s your question?”
You gulped, mind wiping blank before you steeled yourself against whatever this infatuation was. “You mentioned the importance of sound within poetry, the use of sibilance, plosives, to drive dramatic effect. On the flipside, do you think that these could be used to create almost an irony within the poem?”
He tilted his head. “That’s an interesting question. Is this irony for the purpose of humour? Or more to jar the audience?”
“Oh, um, either I guess.” You scratched the back of your neck, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You hadn’t been expecting to be probed on the exact meaning of your question; wasn’t he meant to be the one answering them?
“Well, I think it would work well for creating tension by unsettling or offsetting the tone – I’m not sure about humour. How about I get back to you on that?”
“Yeah, sure, that sounds good.” You tripped over your words as he maintained that deep eye contact, brain suddenly melting to thick slush. This was embarrassing.
Filia tugged you out of the room, your feet having lost the ability to move of their own volition, and you sighed at the smug grin on her face. She spun on you as soon as the door slammed shut behind you.
“You two seemed very friendly.”
You frowned. “He was just being professional.”
“The look he was giving you was anything butprofessional.”
:.
The pages were smooth under your fingers, a simple pleasure in the torture of writing yet another essay. Sometimes you wondered if you’d ever actually get on to writing poetry, instead of just analysing it. Schneider was very much a by-the-book professor.
You skim read the page, eyes flitting over the words as you sought out anything to do with ‘metre’ or ‘pace’ or ‘rhythm’. But yet again it was useless. More of the same old drivel that really told you nothing. You thumped the book shut, dust particles flying into the air, and you sneezed.
A harsh shh came from the librarian’s desk and you winced.
Grabbing the next heavy tome from your pile, you placed this one down a little more gently. Your finger trailed along the contents page, scanning the chapter headings for something a little more insightful into the “importance of metre”. Anything other than how it characterises a poem’s mood would be helpful really.
Cough. You ignored the gentle noise, huffing frustratedly as this book yielded nothing. By this rate, you were going to have read half of the books in the library and still not finished your essay.
Cough. The cough was louder this time, more insistent and purposeful. You glanced up, perfectly ready to berate whoever had decided to interrupt your studying.
He made eye contact with you, smirking. Oh Melitele, smirking. Your mouth stayed open, words caught in the back of your throat.
“Need any help?” Jaskier slipped into the seat next to you, somehow aware that you weren’t going to be the first one to say something. Well, it wasn’t that surprising; you had just stared at him like a brainless goldfish for about half a minute.
You hesitated, umming and ahhing a little as your gaze flitted between your book pile. You really ought to do this one by yourself, but when he was practically offering you a good grade, it would be self-sabotage not to accept.
Deciding on just redirecting the topic, you settled on an easy question. “What’s a guest professor like you doing in the student library this late?”
He sighed wistfully, gazing out of the large glass windows at the stars shimmering in the night sky.
“Reminiscing about the god-awful hours I spent in here over essays that took far too long.” His gaze sharpened. “Which reminds me, did you want some help?”
You pursed your lips, before groaning in resignation. “Yeah, these books are useless.”
He chuckled, sidling a little closer so your shoulders were brushing. You froze, mentally berating yourself and desperately hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“Mhm, I felt the exact same thing when I was in your place.” He was close enough that you could feel his breath fanning against your cheek and the warmth of a body just a little too far away. “They’re all far too old and stuck in the past. We need to forget tradition. Forget all the rules. Switch it up!”
He had summarised very succinctly what every single one of your frustrations with this essay boiled down to.
You grinned. “I swear some of these were written when youmust’ve been a student.”
Jaskier gasped, looking very much like you had just slapped him with a rotten fish. He stuttered, utter horror destroying his ability to speak. “Exactly how old do you think I am?”
“Oh, well, ancient.”
He scoffed, outrage soon dissipating into chuckles as you grinned at him. You really hoped that this sick soppy feeling wasn’t translating onto your features.
“So…” You paused, glancing back down at your unblemished parchment. “What do I do?”
Jaskier’s blue eyes met yours, so unforgettably and unabashedly close. Your breath stuttered in your throat.
“Make your own tradition.”
:.
Pelagius whooped loudly, clanking his tankard against yours and spilling ale everywhere as the rest of the group burst into laughter. You’d all come for your morning pick me up, a half pint of ale (or pint if it was a really tough day) but as a rule you tended to avoid any more just to be able to get through your lectures.
You groaned. “Pel, it’s only the morning, why are you already pissed?”
“Hair of the dog? It is your fault.” He shook his pint at you, more droplets splattering the table, and you winced. Alright, you also had a dire headache and were desperate for a little more sleep, but you weren’t quite at the point of drowning your stress in ale.
Filia cackled at the two of you, smug grin twitching at her lips as you wrinkled your nose. She had been the one egging you on last night, and seemed right as rain. Back to her usual chipper self.
The rest had refused to come out last night, citing Schneider’s second essay of the week as a need to stay in, and therefore were eagerly participating in Filia’s mocking. After the third snide remark about your foul stare and dark under eyes, you pushed out your chair and stood up.
“More drinks?” Suddenly, all teasing was forgotten as you received a chorus of Yeses. You shook your head, smug grin tugging at your lips. “And you say I’m the one with an alcohol problem.”
You slipped into the seat next to some poor patron who was brooding over his beer, no doubt regretting his night just as much as you were. The barkeeper chucked a filthy rag over his shoulder, giving you his most lascivious smile, and you returned one, although rather more politely.
“6 pints please. For that lot over there.” He nodded. He was a silent fellow, much more of a man for grunting, which is why this was your favourite place to chase off a hangover at. “Oh, and make sure the blond drunk one doesn’t get any more.”
At the sound of your voice, the poor bastard to your right’s head shot up. You glanced over, eyes flickering over him before back to the barkeeper as you dropped a handful of coins on the counter. Hang on. You looked at the man again out of the corner of your eye, turning your head over so slowly as your face fell.
“Jaskier…” Your false enthusiasm trailed off as you simply ran out of the energy, eyes wide and mortified.
“Wow, I can tell you’re barely hiding your excitement to see me,” he grouched, taking another large swig of his drink.
“Well, I think we’ve both had an equally awful wake-up, so I’m sure you can understand why.”
“Oh,” he chuckled slightly, “I’m not sure yours was quite as bad as mine. I’ve lost my favourite doublet in Lady Wendelbalda’s chambers as her husband chased me out.”
You grimaced. Yeah. You couldn’t really compare with that. Rubbing the back of your neck, you nodded a thanks to the barkeeper as he delivered the pints to your friends. But all you could think of was Jaskier’s… sexual adventures, and the deep prickle in your heart.
Were you jealous?
“I hope you get it back.”
He harrumphed. “I seriously doubt it. Her husband is a veryvolatile man, and I’m not risking my balls being cut off.”
You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, yes, well that would be a seriousloss to the population of Oxenfurt.”
Jaskier spun on you, raising an eyebrow. He leant forward, breath stinking of stale ale, and you pulled a face. “I’m sure it would be a serious loss to you.”
Your eyes widened. Was he allowed to say things like that to you? He was technically a professor… but it wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about it. And it made you clench your thighs a little tighter together.
“I…” You stuttered, tongue tripping over itself as you tried to come across as cool and aloof. You failed miserably. “I ought to get back to my friends.”
You escaped to the group, who hadn’t noticed your extended period at the bar, and rejoined the conversation almost seamlessly. When you glanced up again, his blue eyes (Melitele, those eyes) were still firmly fixed on you.
:.
Turning over the apple, you peered at its skin for any marks of insects or damage. It was costly enough without extra bruises and protein. You wrinkled your nose at the concept of eating bugs. All the instability had worn the import and export market down, and the produce at the market was becoming less and less diverse every day.
“I’ll take 5 of these apples and about 2 pounds worth of your leeks.” You paused, scanning the stall. “They’re in season right?”
The shopkeeper perked up at the sound of your order, nodding fervently. “Ay, the leeks are best this time of year. We’ve had a good crop as well, nice and sweet. Anything else?”
You eyed the strawberries, mouth twisting as you quickly rattled through your shopping list in your head. You couldn’t afford them on your measly student budget, but maybe one day. “Uh, no, I don’t-”
A voice cut you off. “And a pound of your juiciest strawberries. I’ll pay for the poor student’s shopping.”
You spun around, protesting as Jaskier brushed you aside, already chucking the shopkeeper a couple of gold coins and grabbing your produce. He ignored your squawking and pushed away your purse as you desperately tried to reimburse him.
“Oh, just let me do something nice, will you?”
Your brow furrowed. Jaskier slung an arm around your shoulders, steering you towards the butcher’s with a smug grin on his face. He clearly thought he had won this argument.
“Jaskier, no!” You pushed him off, finally managing to open your purse without him batting your hands away. “I don’t need your pity money. I appreciate it, I really do. But, um, it’s just not right.”
He refused your coins, tucking them back into your purse and that back into your belt. “When was the last time you had strawberries? I saw you looking at them, it was a nice gesture, okay?”
“You’re still my professor.”
Jaskier pulled a face.
“Not really. It was one guest lecture, so this,” he waved his hands in the air, “is all okay.”
One lecture? Oh. Oh.
“How come you’re still in Oxenfurt then?”
“I promised an old friend that I would perform at his tavern for free in return for never paying back the money I still owe him.” He scratched his neck, suddenly bashful. “It’s tomorrow night, at the Old Bull’s Head Inn. Come along?”
“I… Sure.”
:.
You had told Filia about the performance, trying to remain nonchalant as you floated the possibility of going. Despite a little teasing, she had managed to wrangle a few of you, including Pelagius, to come along, You just hoped that Pelagius wouldn’t get you onto the stronger stuff again. You weren’t made for it.
The tavern was packed; inhabitants and students alike had come from all over Oxenfurt to see the renowned bard. Pelagius had managed to grab you all a table, a mean feat considering the size of the crowd already gathered. But, knowing him, he had been here since noon.
Gentle strumming broke you away from the conversation, hush settling in the room. Even just a few notes was spellbinding, a promise of the music to come.
Jaskier was a master of the crowd, weaving emotion and eliciting cheers with every plucked note and repeated refrain. You watched, jaw clenched, as some of the girls from down at the brothel giggled as he came close. He winked, revelling in their attention, and you returned your gaze back to the bottom of your pint.
It was only your first of the night, but you had promised yourself that there would be no more drunken antics for the rest of the week. And you were determined to stick to it.
As the night drew to its close, the hubbub died down, some already having headed off. The pace of his songs also eased, a softening for the end of a triumphant performance.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid that this will be my last song.” Cries of disappointment and ‘Encore’ echoed throughout the audience, and a smug grin twitched at his lips. “But you have been the most wonderful audience.”
He strummed a slow chord, the melancholic minor key striking you by surprise. Usually bards ending the night with a rousing tune, designed to get the innkeeper more orders for pints, but considering the size of the crowd, you doubted he had struggled much tonight.
O'er glistening roofs you float,
A love ballad. Interesting choice.
Through lily-strewn rivers you dive
Jaskier’s eyes met yours, your lips slowly parting as your mouth dried. Melitele, this wasn’t just an infatuation anymore.
Yet one day I will know your truths
His lips curled into a sincere smile as he leant forward, eyes never leaving yours. Was he singing it to you?
If only I am still alive
The song ended to raucous applause with drunkards attempting to stagger to their feet for a standing ovation.
“Thank you, please remember to toss a coin! If you need anything, I’ll be by the bar.”
Emboldened by your single pint, you headed over, needing little more than Filia’s encouraging glance. His serenade, or at least you hoped he had been serenading you, was enough motivation by itself, really.
“Jaskier.”
He spun around, grin widening at the sight of you. “Well if it isn’t my favourite fan.”
You rolled your eyes, raising an eyebrow as he chuckled at your disapproval. His fingers danced against the side of his tankard, the only giveaway of his restless energy. The noise of the inn was dying down as people felt that their night had drawn to its end, and drunkards started to stumble out the door.
“What did you think of the performance?” His eyes searched your face as you hesitated, reformulating a thousand responses in your head before settling on a simple “It was incredible”.
A slight pout settled onto his lips, your gaze flickering down and back up again, and his eyes lit up in a way that let you know he had caught you.
“Justincredible?”
“Well, you tell me the meaning of your final song, and I’ll give you my full review.”
“It’s a love ballad, as I’m sure you know, dedicated to the most beautiful woman in the room.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Mm, it was my favourite part of the night.”
His eyes took on an impish gleam as he sipped at his pint. You ran your finger along the grooves in the bar as you waited for his response. “I’ve got a suggestion on how we can top it.”
Your head shot up. So much for cool, calm and collected. “We?”
“Come back to my room tonight.”
Pretended to hesitate, you stroked your chin thoughtfully. But any pretence was mitigated by the smile playing at your lips. “How could I ever refuse?”
So since a lot of you liked this so much I have decided to listen to the people and give y'all a part two. I hope I did it justice and please leave a note to tell me if you like it. Enjoy!
P.s I suggest you read this while listening “like real people do” by hozier
It had been years since he last saw her, since he had felt her touch, since he heard her tantalizing laugh and gazed upon her glistering skin as she swam with her sisters. He had spend a week with her, sleeping next to her was the most peaceful slumber he ever had, waking up had never been easier when she was next to him, he would scoop her and cradle her in his arms knowing she was awake but allowing her to play the sleepy part cause it made it even better.
The worst part was when he had to leave her, she had slipped away in the middle of the night, when the sun came up she was hidden away from him with her sisters, he had called her name multiple times but she remained unseen. She had heard him, she could see him standing there waiting patiently for her to come out but chose not to, what good could that do? She would only hurt even more if she got to hug him goodbye, no it was better this way.
Jaskier had written and performed many songs about her as him and geralt travelled, as much as Geralt was hurting to listen and be reminded of those times he was also thankful of them, time has passed but the dreams and memories were still vivid. While Jaskier slept Geralt would hold the crystal she had given him, remembering how happy she was that he liked it, he kept it tucked away in his armor to bring him luck
-
“I think it will be best if we stopped at the next village”
“We have to go at the castle in two days, suck it up”
Geralt responded as Jaskier huffed. He had been extra irritated today, something was not quite right, he woke up heavy hearted which was a rare occasion for Geralt yet he chose to keep it a secret, he didn’t need Jaskiers blabbering about Geralt being sensitive or whatever the barb had to say.
“Does this forest look familiar?”
“You’re stalling”
“I’m being serious, are we making circles?”
Then he heard it, the laugh, her laugh. Geralt immediately made Roach stop as he froze, his eyes shot wide open. How could he have missed it? It’s her forest, her lake, he was so in his head that he didn’t realize he had to pass by her river.
“Ohhh this is marvelous! Come on Geralt let’s go see your nymph.”
Jaskier didn’t even turn to look at Geralt who was ready to protest, he was already running towards the river.
(Y/n) was about to hide as she caught a glimpse of the eager visitor. She smiled brightly as she swam in a fast pace to reach him.
“JASKIER! WHAT A SURPRISE!”
she got out of the river and wrapped Jaskier in a tight hug. She squealed as Jaskier lifted of the ground for a split second, as she was let go of his welcoming embrace Jaskier span her around to take a look at her.
“My goodness you look exactly the same dear”
“Perk of being a magical creature, you however look so much better, you look like a man”
She was genuinely happy to see him. Over the span of that week Jaskier and (y/n) had developed a sibling type of love, his childlike outlook on life was so colorful and hopeful that you just wanted to be around him.
“Thank you, I’ll take it as a compliment”
“Where is he?”
She asked him. Jaskier smile became a bit more mischievous, of course he understood her but it was so beautiful to observe their love. Jaskier could swear that his brood friend became a different person when she was around.
“Up the hill, you should go find him, he was extra grumpy today”
“Sisters! Jaskier is back!”
Jaskier wasted no time and left his belongings on the ground as he ran towards the water. She was perplexed over the fact of why didn’t he follow Jaskier, why was he still over the hill. Still, her legs acted on their own as she walked away from the river and closer to him. As she got closer her heart beat grew stronger and it was almost painful, she could hear Roach step and his armor clicking. Finally there he was, his back facing her as he tied his horse to the tree.
“Geralt”
Her voice was barely audible, but of course he heard it. He had heard the encounter between his friend and (y/n) and her light steps as she came to him. For some unknown reason he was scared to face her, even shameful if you will.
He slowly turned to look at her, her cloth that was barely covering anything stuck to her, her hair was wet and her skin under the sun made the drops of water look like diamonds sliding of her silk like skin. He felt a wave of happiness as his eyes met hers, her surprising enchanting gaze put him under her spell that he never wanted to break out of.
They remained like this for a few moments, Geralt instinctively ran to her and lifted her off the ground as he hugged her, his face went to her neck as he took in a deep breath and her smell took over his senses.
“I missed you so much”
She said as tears of joy ran down her face, she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the feel of his armor against her after all this time. Geralt kept her in his arms for a bit after he lightly let her down, her hands went to his cheeks almost immediately, tears still running down hers as she tried to take in his features. Geralts hands remained on her face as they both tried to find the right words to say.
“You-you… I”
“I know. I’m sorry”
She didn’t even have to finish her sentence. He understood exactly why she remained hidden back then, he also knew how much pain his departure had caused her. He took her hand in his as she kissed her palm again and again as she smiled and laughed while still crying.
“Don’t cry, I’m here”
He whispered to her in such a soft way that you would think Geralt was possessed. He wiped away her tears as they both laughed together, it was a laugh of relief, their hearts finally felt that weight of being apart being lifted and they could breathe freely once again. She was the one to reach out and kiss him in the lips, the kiss showed intimacy, love, eagerness, true passion as the one craved the other so much. Geralt lifted her once again as she laughed in the kiss, to him she was as light as a feather.
“You look beautiful”
“I missed those eyes”
She replied back. So many nights she had jumped out of slumber because she would dream of his eyes, the dreams felt so real that once she was awake she would start crying over the fact that it wasn’t real, that those eyes were only in her memory. Now here he was, Geralt in the flesh as she hugged and kissed her all over the face while her melodic laugh filled his ears. To him her laugh was better than any ballad Jaskier or any other barb had sang.
“My dream”
He said as they both took a breath after their kiss, their foreheads touching while she was still hovering over the earth. They were a sight for sore eyes, as they both got lost in each other’s eyes and nothing else mattered to them. It was exactly what the poets and writers tried to put to words, yet no one did it justice.
“I want to come with you”
“I want to stay with you”
They said ok unison. Once again laughter was heard as they understood how much alike yet different they were, yet they wanted to sacrifice their life, to leave behind all they knew for the sake of love, they were ready to surrender themselves into this strong feeling and just live together for as long as this world aloud them.
“I shouldn’t have left”
“I shouldn’t have allowed you to”
She replied. Geralt gave her a kiss on her forehead and let her down once again, still taking in her presence. She smiled at him while she intertwined her fingers with his, silence took over but their eyes said everything, they had reach euphoria in the arms of the other. Their missing half was finally home.
Hey y'all I’m back and I know I promised you guys a sugar daddy Henry Cavill so here is Part one
“Good morning miss”
The maid said as she opened the long heavy curtains, revealing the breathtaking view of France. (Y/n) rubbed her eyes to improve her vision as the sunlight came in and warmed her face, she had missed the rays of sun kissing her face back in England.
“Good morning jennette. Where’s Henry?”
“He had to leave early for business, he instructed me to give you this”
The woman said as she placed a little box on the king sized bed that (y/n) was sleeping. She smiled as she reached over to take the little box in her hands, it was a nice black box with a pretty black bow around it, from the size of it (y/n) guessed it was probably a ring, he always managed to buy her something to sweeten his absence.
As she took off the bow and opened it she gasped at the view of the red gemstone that was accompanied by two smaller diamonds, it was an emerald cut silver ring. Yesterday she had managed to lose a ring at the ocean while swimming, Henry always told her to not wear jewelry while swimming and in her defence it wasn’t intentional, she had just forgotten to take it off. When Henry saw her pouty lips and sad eyes he just kissed her forehead and told her he would get her a bigger one so she wouldn’t forget.
“Is it a Ruby?”
“Even better, red beryl. Very rare stone”
Jennette was (y/n)’s confidant from the beginning, she traveled with the couple everywhere since jennette was the first one to welcome (y/n) as the lady of the house back when mister Cavill had brought her home to live with him, the other staff were testing the waters and kind of disregarding her- once Henry caught wind they all got what they deserved- but jennette understood (y/n) and of course (y/n) showed gratitude by making her the head of the staff. Jennette worked for the Cavill family since she was a young girl, she knew the grounds better than anyone so (y/n) relied on her so she can build her…. Image let’s say. Jennette taught her everything a lady of the house should know, from handling the staff, to remaining calm in certain unexpected visitors that were dressed in blue.
(Y/n) smiled as she took the ring off the box and slid it on her ring finger of her right hand. She stretched her arm in front of her and wiggled her fingers admiring the beautiful gem that shone under the natural lighting before turning it around to show Jenette.
“Looks gorgeous. Now, your bath is prepared as always, I took the liberty of choosing peppermint for you today.”
“Excellent, also I’m craving some sweet breakfast today. Tell the chef to make pancakes and waffles, along with fruit”
She instructed as she slid on her satin sheer long nude colored robe to cover her matching nude colored see through nightdress. Also to cover the scratch marks and rad marks Henry had left last night.
As she followed Jenette to the bathroom she was met with the pleasant scent of peppermint along with the steam that came from the scratching hot water that filled her rose quartz bathtub. (Y/n) was obsessed with crystals so she wanted to have them all around the houses they had, of course Henry didn’t object, “whatever the lady wants, the lady gets” had become his life motto since he had met her at that hotel she was working at.
“I’ll leave you be for now”
“Thank you jennette”
“You are welcome miss”
As she was left alone she took off her clothes and pressed play at the big TV the bathroom had so she could listen to music while she took a bath. She slowly dipped her feet in and then sat down to cover herself completely with the water and bubbles, an audible sigh came out of her lips as she closed her eyes and let her head rest on the side of the tub.
The music along with the hot water relaxed her as the entire room was lit by the sun, it was a great day for (y/n) as she smiled, completely satisfied with her life. To even think that 2 years ago she was budgeting everything to get by, to her it felt like a lifetime ago.
“Someone is having fun”
She shrieked as she sat up quickly and her head snapped at the direction of the voice, a bit of water slipped off and onto the ground. Henry laughed at her reaction before he closed the door behind him and slowly approached his woman.
“Relax my love, it’s just me”
“You scared me”
“I’m sorry dearest, how is my baby doing?”
He said as he stood in front of the tub and leaned in to give her a gentle kiss on the lips as she also responded.
“Just having a bath while my man left me”
“Oh but you seem to enjoy what you got out of it. I’m glad you like it princess”
His voice was always soft and gentle with her, his hand found hers as he brought her palm to his lips to place a kiss and then admired the ring.
“It looks amazing on your pretty little finger”
“Everything looks amazing on me”
She replied quickly with a mischievous smile on her face. He smiled back as he took in her face, her lively eyes that sparkled with life and her glowing skin did things to him.
“Stand up for me love”
(Y/n) smiled brighter as she did what she was told. The water gliding off her along with the bubbles going over her flesh, the cold water making her shiver slightly as she stood there under his eyes. He took a second to admire her, he could see a few marks here and there but other than that her skin was flawless, just like everything else. He reached for her waist not caring about his suit getting wet and since he didn’t care she didn’t give a damn as well so she took the opportunity of wrapping her arms around his neck and feeling her skin touch his suit. Before she knew it she felt her hair getting loose from her bun that he had unravelled, he always loved it when she had her hair down.
“Breathtaking”
He whispered as his lips found the nape of her neck, leaving a trail of kisses that brought the sensation of pleasure ran through her body, making her take a sharp breath in. The smell of peppermint filled his nostrils, as he finally reached her earlobe and took it between his teeth lightly while (y/n)’s hands went to Henry’s hair.
“Did you miss me princess?”
“So-so much”
She whispered as she bit her lower lip to hold back a moan. He could feel her tense up under his touch, feeling that satisfaction of having so much influence over her was something that drove him wild.
“I missed you too dearest, but you haven’t eaten so get dressed and I’ll meet you at the patio”
He said before turning his back and walking away to go change his suit, he loved teasing her more than anything and as he heard her little whine he felt the triumph he wanted.
She just stood there and watched him walk away completely dumbfounded, she should have gotten used to his little tricks but once again she fell for it like an idiot. She didn’t know what to do or how to react to him leaving her out in the cold while he got his little fix.
“That wasn’t fair”
She said like a little girl that didn’t get the doll she wanted. As he once again opened the door he turned to see her sit back down at the bathtub with a pout on her lips, he wanted to run and lift her up, take her right then and there until she screamed with pleasure, however he wanted to play with her a bit, there wasn’t anything bad with teasing her once in a while, she was usually the one playing around with him and leaving him in the dust so when he saw he had a chance of course he took it.
“Life is not fair baby, don’t be late to breakfast”
The life (y/n) had it was something Geralt often envied, it was a way of living that had nothing to do with him, it was almost like she created her own magical bubble that kept her away from anything harmful, she lived in harmony with everything.
(Y/n) was a farmer’s daughter, an only child and her mother passed away when she was young, a few years after she made her first step into adulthood her father also passed, so since she was a little girl her day was filled with taking care of the land and looking after the animals she so much adored. It wasn’t the squeezing cow tits and cleaning out the stables that fascinated him, it was the utter bliss you could identify at the twinkle of her eyes, she was in love with her life, the bitterness and greed of the world had graced by her and left her unharmed.
(Y/n) had stumbled across Geralt at the market of the closest town of her home. She sold fruits, milk and vegetables there, still the reason why Geralt noticed wasn’t her healthy goods, it was her booming voice as she shouted at a man.
“If you lay your hands on a child again I will make sure you have no hands to do so!”
As he approached to see what all the fuss was about he saw her. Her hair was nearly pulled back and away from her face, her dress was this beautiful purple color as her hands were on her sides, one breath away from the man’s face. Another thing he noticed was the child in question that hid behind her as it clinged on her legs for protection.
“He stole apples from my table”
“You want apples? Here”
She turned and took as many she could hold and started to throw them at the man. He acted out on impulse and stepped in to restrict her, she had a strong fire in her but he would hate to see the obviously taller man harm her.
“That’s enough, I think you proved your point”
He said to her as he got in front of her and gently touched her forearms to make her take a few steps back.
“That low life, he almost killed the poor little boy over a few apples”
She muttered as she turned her back on Geralt and kneeled to the kids level. Her hand reached the child’s face as she inspected him.
“Are you alright dear? Come with me, I have a bottle of milk for you”
He felt a bit hurt as the girl ignored his presence entirely. As the woman and the child walked over her counter, she instruced the child to sit on the stool as she passed him a bottle of milk.
The child smiled brightly before chugging the bottle, at that moment of silent Geralt found the courage to speak up.
“I’m Geralt”
“Oh I’m sorry I got completely distracted. I am (y/n), thank you for helping me”
-
After that Geralt felt compelled by her, he would leave her for a short period of time to travel and pick up jobs, yet he always felt the need to come back to her. She was his haven, his safe space to relax, even when compared to him she was this tiny little thing she made him feel protected.
He awoke at the smell of fresh baked goods, he had come to her cottage late at night and exhausted. She only smiled in a sleepy manner and hugged him tight before helping him get into bed with her with no questions or spared words.
At that time (y/n) walked in the bedroom with a cup in her hand. She was dressed in her white night dress and her hair was down, framing her beautiful face. She sat on his side of the bed as he sat up, the sheets falling from his torso.
“Good morning”
“I believe a good evening is more appropriate. Here, drink this”
She said as she passed the cup to him. (Y/n) loved thyme tea, she always made it for him whenever he came to visit her, the aroma of it made him feel welcomed and now he had linked that smell with her. He remembered how she rambled about how much it helps and nourishes you, he didn’t remember what she said exactly but just seeing her so happy and focused on a subject about a simple thing made him smile.
“Hmmm, what have I done to deserve you?”
He asked before taking a sip of the tea. She giggled at his teasing, he always said that to her, at first she found it funny however she was aware that Geralt thought very low of him, it made her so mad that he didn’t see what she was seeing.
“It’s the least I could do, you keep us safe”
“It wasn’t by choice”
“No one forces you to work Geralt, you go hunting for jobs”
He didn’t respond, he was well aware that she had a strong case here. After taking a few sips of the warm liquid he left the cup on the side of his bed before reaching for her hand to caress her soft warm skin. She looked at her hand in his, his skin against hers brought her goosebumps, she tried to hide her smile from him, although Geralt saw it and decided to not comment on it.
“How are things here?”
“Carina gave birth”
“Oh well she was really big last time I saw her”
“She was having a baby cow inside her, I think that’s a bit normal”
They had been around enough for her to know what he wanted. She slowly crawled on her side and got under the covers with him, he smiled as he laid back down and rested his head on her breasts while his arms went around her waist bringing her as close as possible. Her fingers went up on his head, slowly caressing his long silver hair she so much adored, for a man that gets covered with monster blood ever so often his hair was soft like silk.
His warmth made her relax even more as she took a deep inhale and closed her eyes, enjoying his natural scent tingling her nostrils, she never thought a man’s smell would bring her such a calm sensation that made her muscles relax completely, the feeling was almost euphoric as she continued to run her fingers through his white mane.
Geralt enjoyed being caressed by her, after years of feeling the touch of a woman only after offering her coins he finally felt he was being cared for, it was something he thought he would never experience. Now here she was making the giant witcher melt in her arms.
“I missed you”
He whispered just enough for her to hear, (y/n) smiled before placing a kiss at the top of his head. Anyone else would laugh at the sight of the big bad witcher snuggling up on a girl and letting her wrap her legs around his torso in order to make him feel protected. She wasn’t short but anyone would look small in comparison.
“I missed you too dearest”
Hearing her speak to him in such a delicate and soft way made him feel his stomach twist, in a good way of course. She was what he never knew he missed, she was the warm sun in his gloomy life.
“One day I won’t have to leave you”
“One day I will put poison in your tea. Not the deathly kind, maybe paralyze you so you won’t be able to leave”
His chest erupted with laughter at her snarky comment, she never phrased her sadness and displeasure when he left her, still he could sense it. It was exactly what he felt so there was a mutual understanding of how much they both hated that departure. He raised his head to look at her as she offered him a warm smile in return
“You are my home”
“Maybe one day my home won’t have to slip away from me”
So you guys I know I would casually jump in front of a bullet for this man so that means I have been creating different AUs about what what it would be like to date him. I believe that when Henry first starts to date women he is very egotistical (I mean he is Henry Cavill) and kind of thinks he wants women who can fit into his schedule. However I think his previous relationships have done them and he ended up not particularly liking it cause he seems like the man who secretly does want a bit of a challenge and a woman who can give him a bit of hell, I mean he can get anything he wishes so one thing that probably is not in his life is a person who tells him “no”
So I saw you guys really liked the first part so I decided to make a part two of this so I decided to make a part two, if you want a part three let me know. Enjoy!
Geralt was free to leave after that night, he just chose to stay, linger around town and secretly wait for her to call him. He felt foolish, a mutant running around town and hoping a queen will invite him, she probably regretted her words after she walked away from him. One more night, he gave her one more night and the next day he was going to disappear, he was running out of coins and Jaskier was getting more and more annoying.
“Is he still in town?”
“Yes, staying at the inn. My queen you know I would never question you-”
“But you are and it’s not a good look for you. I want you to send someone to go get him in the morning, as early as possible”
“Yes my queen, as you wish”
-
“You know I was hoping she would come and see you, such a great love story for my ballad”
“If you wrote a song about her she would have your head on a platter the next day”
Geralt growled at the barb. The sun had barely rise but Jaskier was wide awake and full of energy, it was bad enough that Geralt had felt his ego get wounded, he had to deal with Jaskier reminding him that he walked away from this town empty handed and covered in shame for letting himself to believe he had a shot with someone of her status.
“Sir Geralt! Wait”
He heard a female voice call for him as he was about to get on his horse. It wasn’t her, the voice had a hint of anxiety in it’s tone, she would have never let her tone of voice waver. It was a young girl, probably in her teens, she was dressed in clean and what seemed expensive dress. As she stood next to the men she gave a light bow. Jaskier and Geralt were not used to this kind of respect, if anything they were happy if a day passed and they hadn’t heard any insults.
“Sir Geralt, our queen is asking for you”
“ohhhhhhh what a powerful twist, I knew she was planning something”
“Shut it Jaskier”
“Her highness said to bring you to her as fast as possible, she doesn’t appreciate waiting”
The girl tried to regain her breath, she was probably terrified of letting down the queen. Hell she probably had to go back and tell (y/n) she didn’t find her if she came a minute later and it wouldn’t look good to go back without getting what her queen needed. Geralt hesitated for a moment, trying to process the idea and also asking himself why she waited until the last day to call for him, to be fair it sounds like something she would do.
“Jaskier wait here, take care of Roach”
“Of course, go get her Geralt”
It only took one look from Geralt for Jaskier to shut up and look away. Geralt followed the girl silently, although he internally hoped the girl would pick up her pace, a sudden eagerness to see her consumed him. He became aware that he was kind of underdressed to be entering a palace, he wasn’t even wearing his armor, he was just in regular commoner clothes, for the first time he cared for his appearance while meeting someone royal. She wasn’t just royalty, she was (y/n), she was radiant, she exuded this untouchable aura and her stable tone of voice made others focus on her.
As they entered the palace he got to take a look at the decoration. A smirk was brought in his lips as he looked around, she had definitely changed a lot of things, there was no portrait of the late king, only hers and other females, it had so many different and bright colors mixed together and complimenting each other, the curtains were of light pastel color on the contrary of the heavy dark curtains the other palaces he had been in had. The girl walked up to a woman more older than her, yet still youth was a way to describe her, she was dressed in a gold dress, long light brown hair framing her face and a tall figure.
“Miss Chiara, I found him”
“Very well Mina, run along now, you are dismissed”
“Right away Miss Chiara”
Geralt looked at the woman, she seemed to have the same sense of authority and seriousness (y/n) had, however she did not have the little splash of warmth (y/n) possesses, this woman was just as cold as ice. Geralt took notice how the young girl became nervous around her, she was probably a woman of status, someone that worked directly with the queen, you could tell by her proud posture and sharp tone that she took her position seriously.
“Sir Geralt, welcome to the Queens palace”
“Thank you”
“Follow me please”
It was weird that Geralt had not seen any other male in here yet. (Y/n) had probably kicked out any of the late kings favorite people, she spoke very highly about the female gender, it was only a matter of time her staff was dominated by them, there was not trace a king ever existed, everywhere you looked it was something that had her sense of choice, even the scent that carried around the palace, this light vanilla with a hint of fruit, no heavy musk smell the kings adored, it was her palace now.
The woman stopped right in front of two big wooden doors before she turned to Geralt, a harsh look on her face and also a slight side of a dissapointed manner, she was probably worried about her queens choice of visitor.
“The queen is a very private person, that barb of yours isn’t, whatever words you exchange with her stay in this room”
“I understand”
It didn’t surprise him that the woman asked for some type of privacy around her queen, he was annoyed that people worried that Jaskier would open his mouth, which was a possible scenario however that meant Geralt would let him know anything about (y/n). No, he was not willing to share anything that had to do with her. The woman knocked a few times before pushing the doors open enough for the two to walk in.
“My queen, Sir Geralt is here… like you asked”
“Excellent, thank you very much Chiara. Could you leave us alone please?”
“At once my queen”
The woman gave one last look at Geralt before she left, shutting the doors behind him. He gulped as he took a look at (y/n), her hair were loose, like a waterfall running down, her skin was covered by a silk pastel robe, tied around her waist as it accentuate her figure, the only glimpse of skin were her feet and arms.
“You asked for me”
“Indeed, I was astonished when I discovered you where still here”
She walked over from her bed to the center of the room, she seemed at ease, comfortable with the situation. Yet her sensual energy oozed out more than last time, it almost took over him and forced him to ran to her and kiss her.
“I like the inn, comfortable beds”
“I’m so glad to hear that, I want our travelers to feel like home here”
She started to proceed towards him, her eyes and intense look on her face strained him from moving, freezing like the prey looking at it’s predator. He felt her eyes on him, fixated on his face as she took him in, she could tell that he was quite nervous, it excited her that her presence alone brought such a man unease.
“I told you, I don’t like feeling lonely”
Her voice was low, promiscuous. As her hand to his chin, her delicate fingers felt like a feather was touching him, everything about this woman was made to make him feel weak in the knees. Her perfume was like a drug to him, slowly sipping into him and becoming something so familiar yet he craved to be around it.
“Will you help me Geralt?”
“gladly”
Before he could taste those lips of hers, she moved away and turned her back to him. (Y/n) wanted to jump on to him as soon as he walked in, nonetheless she wanted to play a tad bit of a game. She reached for the knot on her robe and let it loose, her hips swaying from side to side as the robe moved past her shoulders and on to the floor, she was aching for him, she had spent days imagining him sharing her bed, a man like that was definitely more than capable to please her bodys needs. She wanted the first time that he took her to be like that one dream she had the first night after meeting him, that left her to wake up covered in sweat and panting for air.
She stood in front of the window and turned to look at him while leaning on a desk that had scattered papers on it. It didn’t take a genius to realize what she was insinuating, Geralt’s eyes went wide as it dawned of him, you could see the entire garden and the street from the open window, no curtain stood between that view.
“Someone could see us”
“And? I am their queen, it’s my reputation on the line, it can either happen my way or you are free to leave. What will it be Geralt?”
It only took a second for him to make up his mind, his feet guided him to her one in front of the other at a slow pace. When he had finally come close enough for her torso to touch his, he felt her hands touch his arm, caressing his flesh
“You know the only man I’ve ever shared a bed with was my late husband. I hated it, it was only for him to get the heir he craved, it left me to wonder what it feels like to be lusted after, wanted, to feel… pleasure. Are you the answer to those questions?”
Her voice was now barely a whisper, as her eyes locked on his. She didn’t know how she held it together, the simple touch of his hands on her waist was enough to drive her wild, she needed to feel him, to let him show her what being intimate was supposed to feel like. Geralt chose to not answer verbally, he just leaned in and finally felt her lips to hers at a passionate kiss. In a blink of an eye the caress became more aggressive and you could hear the tear of his shirt as she ripped it apart to reveal his torso. It only took one simple tuck of a strap for her dress to drop and show her naked body.
He took a good look of her, she was truly amazing, that goddess like beauty that men dreamt about. His hands went to her breasts and massaged them, feeling them was enough for him to become impatient. A small moan left her lips as he started leaving kisses along her neck, she sat up on the desk and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“You’ll be the death of me”
“It will be- it will be worth it”
she breathed out, her mind was gone and she was just glad she got the words out in the right order. His hot skin against her naked body felt heaven like, she thanked herself for making the right decision and choosing him. Her touch was needy, as felt his pants drop and he grabbed her by the neck, forcing her to look at me
“The queen of the land, naked before me”
“Can you please her?”
After that a moan was heard, as they became one. Both of them moaning loudly as (y/n) laid back on the desk, giving him a good view of her figure, she was breathtaking, as she moved her hips and moaned his name again and again. He couldn’t help and lean down, feeling the need to touch her, kiss her, her arms reaching at his back, leaving scratches as he guided her to road of immense pleasure.
“My queen, submission becomes you”
He whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe. She was better than any of the fantasies he had of her, she was as hot as volcano, exploding and destroying anything on it’s path. Her back arched as she hugged him tightly, for the first time she was truly enjoying the act of sex, she cursed herself for not killing her incompetent husband earlier, her new life was filled with pleasure, pleasure only Geralt could bring her. Her legs started to shake while she felt like a fire was spreading on her body, the moans becoming louder and louder by the second.
“Geralt, that’s it”
“Come on (y/n), let it go”
She felt like her body and mind exploded with glee, the passion he brought out of her in a mix of his skill with women was now pushing her over the edge, as she unraveled and came undone underneath him, biting his shoulder to refrain herself from yelling.
The enjoyment he felt seeing her like this was indescribable. This amazing and confident queen was now shaking and latching on to him, the power (y/n) held over him drove him to insanity. As he felt the orgasm reach him and take over he kissed her as he slowed down and relaxed in her arms. No woman had made him feel such intense satisfaction, her allowing him to take her was truly an out of body experience.
“You…. are an amazing woman”
“You’re not so bad yourself”
both of them were out of breath, sweat dripping over their body and the light of day made her skin shine, like diamonds were decorating her torso. He laced one hand underneath her and lifted her off the table, her head went on to his shoulder as she started kissing his neck. He laid her on the bed and went on top of her, finally kissing her lips.
“I see you’ve gotten comfortable being inside of me”
“It’s very cozy”
Her chest erupted as she laughed at his comment. It was more of a “not wanting this to be over” situation, she didn’t mind though, she didn’t want him to leave either, the idea of having him here all day was delightful. She let her fingers roam on his back, going up and down as he relaxed, the weight of him was a lot but comfortable, she liked feeling his body against hers.
“When will you have to leave?”
“Tomorrow”
“I’m sure the barb will be very happy to spend the night in the palace. Your horse can be safe in the stable”
“Want me all for yourself?”
“As I said, you are free to leave…. tomorrow”
He pulled away from her and laid on his side, as she went under the covers but made sure to let her breast exposed and covered his lower body. It was his turn to reach for her, caressing her face as she beamed with satisfaction.
“And I will, until I can come back”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“A declare of my addiction towards you”
“Really? Then let’s see how intoxicated I can get you in a day”
Geralt’s head turns in the opposite direction he ascends, momentarily pausing with a questionable look. Jaskier follows suit, not understanding quite why the white wolf is still, finger pressing against the handle of his sword.
“Geralt, what in -.”
“Shut up, Jaskier.” It is growled through clenched teeth as ears perk out the sound of twigs snapping. To anyone else it would go unnoticed, the creature behind them are unskilled, not too bad except for the fact their heart is beating a million miles a minute. Jaskier thought of the few sticks snapping as wild rabbits hurrying through the bushes.
To be honest, it was pretty impressive you made it this far without Geralt noticing. Almost a whole day he thought he left you at home with the promise of returning. Geralt was impressed he hadn’t noticed a tail for this long but blames it on the fact that the bard is the most obnoxious, loudest person to roam this continent.
Geralt nose is high in the air, the wind catching at just the perfect time before the familiar smell of strawberries and lavender shampoo makes him scowl.
“Come out, now.” The command comes from a cleaned jaw, anger prominent by the way the muscle in his jaw twitches. Goosebumps ripple against your skin, the look of those amber eyes is enough to have you ready to run all the way home but so fear stricken you don’t dare move. “I can smell you, don’t make me repeat myself.”
summary: what mornings are like when geralt comes home
content: fluff
paring: Geralt of Rivia x female reader
a/n: I’m going to be posting all of my Geralt imagines from my old blog from when s1 came out.. so they as you can imagine are awful so I am editing all of them and have a few more, so if you would like to be tagged, my tag list is below
Soft breaths come and go with the rise and fall of his broad chest. His hair is messy and in knots from tossing and turning partially from how damn soft your bed is, different from the usual forest floors and dingy inn beds. The early morning sun slipped through the cracks of the translucent curtains to reach the highs of his cheeks, see the peaks on skin from underneath coarse chest hair.
Never have you seen the Witcher so relaxed, long silver hair cascading over bare shoulders but instead of the normal rough grimace was a relaxed pout. So peaceful you have to fight the urge to kiss it.
Mornings like these make you wonder why you ever let him leave at all. The selfish urge to keep the Witcher here all to yourself hangs high in the air, so much you almost feel ashamed of it.
Seven weeks. That’s how long he was gone this time and with winter on its way, it would surely be longer. Geralt has been asleep for hours, you couldn’t find the courage or have the heart to wake him. Last night he came late at night, clearly tired with big purple bags under his eyes and covered in some kind of green goo. From your own guess, right after slaying the beast came to see you.
summary: you get jealous that Geralt continues to entertain Yennefer who he claims he does not love anymore and naturally you make him jealous back
paring: geralt of rivia x reader
content: 18+ minors DNI, smut, Dom geralt who switches to soft, honestly idk how to tag this bc it’s everywhere.
a/n: not beta read or proof read bc I’m lazy
It’s not laborious to see the way he stares at you - eyes darkening just enough to make the honey amber eyes sparkle to a deep caramel color. Dark and deep like the depths of a carved cannon - dark in the way that they promise no life will survive. Sparkling in this little game of predator and prey as the man next to you touches the small of your back with his dirty, callused hand.
The tavern is bouncing with life, busy from the festival that seemed like it would last all night. Geralt grasps the cup of ale in his hand, muscles in his jaw twitching as his knuckles white against thin handle. The integrity of the wood shivers with complaints of splinting under his strong hands.
The spot to his left is empty, the ghosts of where you used to be until the raven haired woman approached him. With your chest burning with jealousy, you decided to leave and let Geralt enjoy his time with her since she did always seem to find her way to whatever town you wander to.
But this - geralt would never stoop to such lows. Sitting and flirting with a group of men right in front of him, laughing and drinking from their cups. Letting them put their dirty paws on you - touching your shoulder and feeling the tips of your hair.
He had dismissed Yennfer an hour ago. Tugging his lip between teeth as your eyes would meet his - just to make sure he’s still watching. His gaze is hot - pure lava that burns the skin, but it feels so, so good.
But to be completely honest you’re so sick of the Geralt and Yennfer destiny shit - her always showing up and claiming her love while Geralt still hears her out, always so sweet with her despite having you. You’re so over him claiming it is nothing more than destiny, that it will always bring them together but he picks you regardless.
summary: you get jealous that Geralt continues to entertain Yennefer who he claims he does not love anymore and naturally you make him jealous back
paring: geralt of rivia x reader
content: 18+ minors DNI, smut, Dom geralt who switches to soft, honestly idk how to tag this bc it’s everywhere.
a/n: not beta read or proof read bc I’m lazy
It’s not laborious to see the way he stares at you - eyes darkening just enough to make the honey amber eyes sparkle to a deep caramel color. Dark and deep like the depths of a carved cannon - dark in the way that they promise no life will survive. Sparkling in this little game of predator and prey as the man next to you touches the small of your back with his dirty, callused hand.
The tavern is bouncing with life, busy from the festival that seemed like it would last all night. Geralt grasps the cup of ale in his hand, muscles in his jaw twitching as his knuckles white against thin handle. The integrity of the wood shivers with complaints of splinting under his strong hands.
The spot to his left is empty, the ghosts of where you used to be until the raven haired woman approached him. With your chest burning with jealousy, you decided to leave and let Geralt enjoy his time with her since she did always seem to find her way to whatever town you wander to.
But this - geralt would never stoop to such lows. Sitting and flirting with a group of men right in front of him, laughing and drinking from their cups. Letting them put their dirty paws on you - touching your shoulder and feeling the tips of your hair.
He had dismissed Yennfer an hour ago. Tugging his lip between teeth as your eyes would meet his - just to make sure he’s still watching. His gaze is hot - pure lava that burns the skin, but it feels so, so good.
But to be completely honest you’re so sick of the Geralt and Yennfer destiny shit - her always showing up and claiming her love while Geralt still hears her out, always so sweet with her despite having you. You’re so over him claiming it is nothing more than destiny, that it will always bring them together but he picks you regardless.
summary: you get jealous that Geralt continues to entertain Yennefer who he claims he does not love anymore and naturally you make him jealous back
paring: geralt of rivia x reader
content: 18+ minors DNI, smut, Dom geralt who switches to soft, honestly idk how to tag this bc it’s everywhere.
a/n: not beta read or proof read bc I’m lazy
It’s not laborious to see the way he stares at you - eyes darkening just enough to make the honey amber eyes sparkle to a deep caramel color. Dark and deep like the depths of a carved cannon - dark in the way that they promise no life will survive. Sparkling in this little game of predator and prey as the man next to you touches the small of your back with his dirty, callused hand.
The tavern is bouncing with life, busy from the festival that seemed like it would last all night. Geralt grasps the cup of ale in his hand, muscles in his jaw twitching as his knuckles white against thin handle. The integrity of the wood shivers with complaints of splinting under his strong hands.
The spot to his left is empty, the ghosts of where you used to be until the raven haired woman approached him. With your chest burning with jealousy, you decided to leave and let Geralt enjoy his time with her since she did always seem to find her way to whatever town you wander to.
But this - geralt would never stoop to such lows. Sitting and flirting with a group of men right in front of him, laughing and drinking from their cups. Letting them put their dirty paws on you - touching your shoulder and feeling the tips of your hair.
He had dismissed Yennfer an hour ago. Tugging his lip between teeth as your eyes would meet his - just to make sure he’s still watching. His gaze is hot - pure lava that burns the skin, but it feels so, so good.
But to be completely honest you’re so sick of the Geralt and Yennfer destiny shit - her always showing up and claiming her love while Geralt still hears her out, always so sweet with her despite having you. You’re so over him claiming it is nothing more than destiny, that it will always bring them together but he picks you regardless.
Screw Geralt and screw destiny too.
Geralt leans forward into the table, listening intensely as the group of men continue to compliment your beauty. He was fine with playing this stupid game - letting you having your fun and punish him for even entertaining the idea of Yen but as the hand on your back slips lower and lower until it cups the curve of your ass.
Just like that his vision blurs, two strides away as he watches the way your lips twitch into a polite smile and throw your head back with laughter. Two large hands grasp your wrist, pulling you up from the table as the men around you moan and groan at the loss of your presence.
It’s impossible to comprehend what is happening as you’re pulled into a room, the door closed shut with force.
“Wh-.” You don’t even get the chance to speak before your face is pressed against the wall with a heavy chest crushing against your back. Soft, heavy breaths as a hand anchors your hip, awkwardly angling you against the old, crappy wooden table. A burning stretch felt across your lower abdomen with a hand flat against your shoulder and lowers you down until your stomach touches the table, bending you to his will.
“I am fed up with you.” His voice booms inside the small room, feeling his hardness grow against your backside, twitching to life in the position he has you in.
Stomach flat against the table, ass pressed against the ties of his trousers, his strong, pale arm clenching your neck and forcing a cheek into the table.
“What is your problem now?”
“Go ask Yennefer.”
His chest vibrates with a growl, hand moving as his fingers knot inside your hair. “You know it’s not like that I don’t -.”
“Want her, you want me, yeah. Heard that one before but someone you still end up entertaining her. Now get off me and let me go back to those guys -.”
He growls again, jealousy burning inside his chest but the hint of silky musk that slips from under your dress as you struggle against his hold. It’s enough to have him twitching in his pants - a sly smirk filling his features.
“Oh, you wanted this to happen didn’t you, brat?” He leans in closer as he coos, using the curve of his nose to run it through your hair, smelling the sweet, earthy tones of a day of travel. Letting out an exaggerated squeal as he pushes his hips deeper against your inner thighs to feel the heaviness of his erection as he speaks, “Oh, you did? Dirty girl.”
Calloused and gentle fingers grasp your shoulder, running down the length of your back as he presses a few light kisses over the shirt that covers your spine. “Oh my beautiful, dumb girl. No matter how many times I tell you, you always seem to think the worst.”
He clicks his tongue, whispering the words, “I’ll let you in on a little secret, petal. Even destiny can’t get in the way of my love for you, what does that tell you? But I guess I will show you. Fuck you right here for all those men to hear my love for you and yen, she’s here, I want her to hear too.”
“Geralt, we can’t do this -.” your eyes flicker to the door, the night from outside seeping through the cracks of the splintering wood.
“I’ll do whatever I want.” His smooth words pressed into your skin with his kisses.“Isn’t that right?” His own little way of asking for permission, “because this pussy is mine.”
You’re not prepared for the hand that makes contact with your ass as punishment for your silence, causing you to squeal out a choked, “Y-Yes!”
Warm lips press into your shoulder following with a thick line of spit from his hot tongue and nipping teeth.
Nimble fingers dig into the skin of your shoulder, turning you around to face him with a deep scowl. A gentle hand cups your face - angling your eyes to meet his face, fingers soaking into the skin if your hairline. He doesnt move, hot breath fanning your face as he stares.
He can’t help but think how beautiful you are like this, flushed and hair messily forming knots from his hands and a few loose pieces stick to your wet skin. A cool hand against the nape of your neck releases its grasp, taking the opportunity you gasp to slip his tongue into your mouth, tongue finding your own with ease.
The room is suddenly hot - a wave of heat coating your cheeks but you can’t help as your hands raise to spread his silver strands and his breath hitches. A rough hand pulls at the ties of your corset, unlacing the leather brace and exposing what lies underneath.
The moment your erect nipples meet the cool bitter air you feel press closer to his armour, seeking warmth. The fingers around the back of your neck pull you away from his warmth, only to soothe your aching nipples with the flat muscle called his tongue.
“Petal, tell me.” He rubs the heaviness of his erection over your barely clothes cunt. “Did you like his hands on you?”
It’s not like you get the chance to answer as harsh teeth nip at your left nipple. In response you whine but loud enough that your eyes grow wide, looking over at the door… But Geralt’s hand stops you, gritting his teeth as he speaks, “Looking for your new lover to come in, sweet girl?”
“No!” You whine as his teeth nip at your neck, he hums against the skin as you continue, “Just want you, bear.”
The nickname you have given him so long ago makes him huff - hands falling to cup the fat of your ass, “You’re making it hard to stay mad at you.”
Instead of arguing further you catch him in a kiss and push off with your elbows before using them as support. The moment your lips disconnect you’re pressing soft, gentle kiss against his jaw, following a trail to his neck before sucking on the pale skin gently.
Geralt eyes lashes flutter, a soft satisfied hum echoing in his chest as his hands tighten around the plush of your hips.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Feeling the small prick of his facial hair as you punch his chin between your pointer and thumb. “I was being a brat - should have never let him touch me like that.”
Geralt is almost satisfied. Almost.
His lips find yours again but the tug at the ends of your hair has you huffing.
“Geralt..” The whine of his name wanting and feral shoots straight to his aching cock.
“You don’t seem apologetic, make it up to me and we’ll see if I forgive you.” The cheeky smirk makes you want to scowl but you don’t even get the chance.
Fingers cup your chin and grip to watch your lips part with want, two fingers sliding along the ridges and bumps of your tongue until they reach the back of your throat. Geralt laughs at you - actually laughs as you gag around them but he doesn’t pull away, he holds them there, feeling your throat swallow around them.
“I am sorry geralt -,”
“What are you sorry for? Tell me, sweet girl.”
He’s doing this on purpose, teasing and prolonging this longer just to get a rise out of you. You watch the way his eyes test you, knowing exactly what he wants to hear.
“Come on, petal, tell me what are you sorry for?”
Two large hands squeezed at your thighs again as you refused to speak.
“Go ahead, say sorry for being a little whore.”
The wetness between your thighs betrays you, squeezing them tightly to relieve the throbbing between your legs. It doesn’t go unoticed, geralt could smell just how wet you were - sobbing, wet slick coating the inside of your thighs but he wasn’t budging.
Instead watching with those honey sickle eyes. Watching as your eyes bounce back and forth, wheels turning and weighting your options.
“Say it or I’ll leave you here.” He threatens.
Silence is all he’s greeted with. Just like that, cruel and evil he pulls his body away from your own, not bothering to spare you one more glance before you’re reaching out to grab his fingers.
He turns to look at you, watching as your cheeks flush red and eyes meet the floor. “I’m sorry for being a little whore.”
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
With one last sigh - you swallow any pride you did have. He looks too good - black armour adorns his body, the flickering candles from the tavern shadows his features and carve the highest points of his face. “I’m sorry for being a little whore.”
Two thick, warm fingers run alongside the plush of your breast. Slow as they trail across the plane of your stomach and under the fabric to push the dress up and over your head leaving you in the soft, white satin panties.
“Geralt, someone can walk in - I’m naked.”
“Good.”
You scoff under your breath but the two large fingers spread over your clothed pussy with a loud whine, pushing into the touch. “Brute.“
He can’t help but crack a smile at that, teasingly smacking your hand away that cups his chin. "Stop that and be a good girl.”
Without a word he sinks to his knees with a few seconds of silence and stares, almost like he’s trying to commit the sight to his memory. He watches as you whine and lift your hips in a desperate attempt for him to finally touch you.
He clicks his tongue as hands cup both of your breasts, nipples pebbling instantly. His pressing a soft kiss against the soft material makes you squirm.
“I-I..” Tears of frustration gather at the corner of your eyes, feeling as if you were going to combust at any moment.
But Geralt - he’s having the time of his life. His pretty girl squirming and needy above him. He can’t help but stare, a large hand gathering the fabric across your waist and gently pulls. It’s just enough that it shapes to the curves of your pussy lips, a wet patch forming to the cream colored panties.
Your skin is on fire - almost like small bee stings that would only be cured by the touch of his hand. Ears twitching with heat as you feel him rest his temple against your inner knee. But the moment he presses a thumb against the soft flesh of your clit, you mewl, back arching from the table. He takes his time, spreading the wetness around.
He applies a little more pressure and as a response - your first moan of the night. Skin flushing pink as you realize just exactly where you are but it doesn’t seem to matter much anyways, the tavern had broken out into a song, no doubt from the bard.
His hand leaves you completely with a loud protest, but it is cut short with a hand against your hip to flip you around to your stomach, face pressing against the wood as the same hand digs into your right hip, dragging them high into the air.
“You’re not being fair.” You protest but Geralt’s hand smacks your backside again.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not, petal. You were being a brat and still are. Can’t keep your mouth shut.”
His length is heavy, straining against the back of your thigh. Pressing a kiss to your lower back up to the bare prominence of your shoulder blade. Despite his words a gentle palm soothes the burning of your seared skin but it only drops lower and gathers the fabric of your underwear and rips the fabric from you.
With little to no warning his fingers hook inside of you until they curl around that gummy spot that makes you moan.
The two fingers scissor against your walls, coating in your arousal that only makes it that much easier to thrust back in you. The instant the sound leaves your lips, using a hand to cup your mouth to conceal the noise but he only tugs your wrist, “I want to hear every single sound, understand?”
You squeeze around him, hips naturally fighting the trust of his fingers. “Sounds so sweet, angel.”
The way your pussy squeezes around his fingers makes him groan, electric
Two fingers move, scissoring against the velvet walls as your eyes roll back into your heat, dizzy for it. The evidence of your wetness lubricating his fingers, coating them and making the next thrust of his wrist more impactful. He’s hitting the spongy deep spot with every movement, parts you never thought a person could reach and you squeal. Shockwaves rippling through your skin as those cloudy amber eyes watch the way your body shakes underneath him.
There’s no other way to describe it other then earth-shattering as the heat builds inside your stomach. Geralt is so caught up in your pretty sounds, the way you call his name with a cry that he doesn’t realize the way his hips press against your inner thigh. Dry fucking himself to the fact he’s milking you for everything you got.
The long finger never stop - filling you over and over again as soon as they leave. Fingers curling deep inside and massage the deepest part of you, so deep that your fingers wrap around his wrist to stop the brutal pace but a brutal grip finds your forearm and press a warning squeeze against it. While you’re fully expecting him to push the hand that keeps him from what he needs most but instead he interwebs his fingers with your own.
Just like that - time slows, feeling every inch of his fingers as your pussy clamps down on his fingers and vision fades to black as you cum around his fingers. Heavy breaths to try to make up for the lack of oxygen inside your lungs as you feel the line of his nose move across your jaw and a soft kiss against your chin but he’s twitching against your thigh.
No doubt, painfully hard. With shaky legs you turn to face him, fingers running up the hardness of his armour just to pull at the clasps and buckles. His own hands fumbling with the ties of his pants, shaky finger meet yours half way to help pull the rest of the clothing off.
Your hands spread across his bare abdomen with flirty eyes as he peers down at you. “Look so pretty, petal.”
His finger curling under your chin to angle your lips toward his as he leans in slowly until he tastes the sweet ale on your lips but his sweetness was short lived as he whispers into your ear, “On your knees.”
The shuffle to the floor is quick, positioning yourself in front of the large man - palming his harness through his already unlaced pants.
Geralt peers down at you, using his digit to run along the line of you jaw - thumb pinching at the pit of your chin. “Open those pretty lips for me.”
Despite the dull burn of your knees, you happy oblige and mouth parting the skin of his appendage dips to your tongue and presses into it. His other hand pulls at the fabric of his pants just enough to release his coco from the confines of his pants.
Beautiful doe eyes peer up at him as he wraps the free hand around his throbbing erection and rubs the soft, fleshy head against your lips until you part your mouth and stick your tongue out for him.
“Pretty girl.” You hum in response, pushing his heavy length past your lips. Suddenly filled with the taste of him, suddenly every sense is filled with him. In that instant geralt realizes the mistake he’s made, between the heat of your throat and the way it contracts over the fat head of his cock, he feels dizzy, needing to grasp the edges of the table to stay horizontal.
The moment you take him just a little bit more he’s whining, hips tuting to engross himself inside more until you gag around him. “Keep going, pretty.”
He uses his large palm to pet the hair out of your face with a sweet smile. If it wasn’t like you wouldn’t do anything he asked - he just had to smile so sweetly you can’t help but close your eyes and finally feel the tickle of the dark pubic hair.
Geralt can’t help the way his head rolls back, neck snapping under the pressure as his fingers touch over the skin of your temple and gathers it in his giant palm, making a make shift pont tail.
As his eyes meet your own blush blankets your cheeks and Geralt sucks in a breath at the sight of you, and playfully tugs at the ends of your hair, “How many times have you done this? Don’t get shy on me now.”
Geralt gives a small thrust, just enough to make your eyes water and gag around his hardness His fingers clutch the corner of the table as a small groan falls from his lips watching as you bring a hand up to cup his balls, not daring to take your eyes away.
“Easy. Trying to make up for being a brat?” You ignore his teasing and instead bob your head back and down in precise, achingly show movements just the way he likes it.
The way you slowly take all of him, inch by inch until he hits the end of your throat and swallow - the tight muscle contracting around his already aching length.
He’s growing frustrated at your teasing, face flushing a deep pink color as he chewing on his bottom lip. Battered and bloody - he can taste the blood every time he gasps. His fingers burn into the base of your skull and you’re forced to breath out through your nose as he decides to take over and fucking into your face.
By the time he’s done your face is dripping with your salvia, a line of spit follows as he pulls out completely. He reaches a hand between your face to grasp his weeping cock and runs the head against the smooth skin of your cheek and gathers the wetness of tears there before then moving to your petal lips where you can taste the saltiness. “Look at me.”
No words are needed to know how badly he wants you right now. They’re found in his darkening eyes, the way his hand squeezes around your throat. “I let you suck my cock, what do you say?”
“Thank you.” He doesn’t seem to like the short reply bc his hand tightens even more around the thick muscles of your neck.
“That didn’t seem very thankful.”
“Thank you for letting me suck you off. You’re so good to me, baby.”
He lets out a satisfied hum, hand releasing his grip only to cup under your arm. “Up.”
Before you even get the chance he’s lifting you from the floor and sitting you at the edge of the table. He twitches against your thigh, no doubt painfully hard but still takes his time to run his fingers across your breast and gently squeeze the right nipple between two fingers.
The feeling of intense heat is soon gone as his arm slides behind your back and cups your waist just to pull your chest into his own.
His lips ghost over your nose and follow along the ridges of your jaw before hover over your own - like he’s something he’s been dying to do, taste your lips. “Kiss me, pretty girl.”
The moment you meet the silver haired brute’s lips he lets out a soft moan - parting slightly, just enough to slip your tongue inside.
His body pressing against yours, evenly matching with heaving breath and he’s so gentle it takes your breath away. Putting his all and everything into your lips, his tongue caresses your own, using a hand to pull your closer and closer and he just wants more.
For the sake of breathing he backs away and whispers against your lips, “I just want you, always want you.” Before meeting your lips again - once - twice - a third time like he’s a deprived man.
As if to break him from his trance he pushes against your shoulders to knock you to your elbows.
There is no warning as the bulbas head of his cock rubs against the contours of your cunt - collecting the sloppy heath and using it to push into you. The heavy stretch is heavenly, a light burn to accommodate his size. Something of a delicious pain as your eyes roll shut and you fall to your back.
The velvety-like walls practically sucking him whole, feeling every inch of your messy pussy. With only a few inches left he stops. He’s greedy you to take it all but watching the way wrinkles form against your nose.
His hand cups your jaw and frowns, “I’m okay, Geralt, been a while is all.”
You’re right - between the gone for weeks and slaying monsters, he hasn’t had much alone time with his girl, especially with the stupid bars around.
“I should get you ready more -.” Before he can move you reach for his hand and press it against your chest - feeling the jump of your heart under his palm.
“I’m okay, you can keep going.”
Two fingers tease the bundle of nerve in slow, circular motions as he nudges just a little further until he’s nestled so deep in your sopping cunt, you feel him in your stomach. He takes the time to reach for your own arm, brings it to his chest to feel his own source of life.
With the feeling of being so full you’re blinking, trying to clear the blurring vision. Hearing your own heart beat in your ears as you feel his own against your finger tips. Blown ember eyes flicker from your face to where you two connect and press his hips experimentally deeper.
The sound that comes from your lips as they part and your back arches from the table is enough to have him moan against your jaw - willing and able to give you everything at the word. His soft lips follow with sultry heat up your cheeks and to your ear where he softly bites. It’s almost like that jealous geralt had completely melted away, no longer demanding and mean, he just wants you to feel good and feel his love for you. His eye lashes flutter against your temple as he lowly speaks, “Look at you, how could I ever want anyone else. You are my heart.”
The words make your heart stop - he must be drunk on ale. While you always know the feelings he holds, it has never, ever came to a point where he needed to express his undying love. “Can I move, my heart? I wanna feel you.”
Without thinking you extend your arm, palm flat against his face. Despite the littering scars and brush of his facial hair, his skin is soft. Smooth and gentle, much to match his heart. “You are so drunk, dear.”
He smirks at your words as he brings your palm to his lips and kisses the skin of your wrist. “‘ust love you. Wanna love you.”
“Then love me.”
He doesn’t waste another second as his hips start to move. Never leaving your eyes as they snap faster and faster, the evidence of your arousal leaking out with every pull of his hips. It soaks his abdomen, soaks your own and covers your thighs. It allows him to move easier in and out of you, deeper and deeper as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He can’t look away from the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing into your silky opening. The sounds of the room are ones of Geralt’s moans and your squeals, followed by echoing of skin against skin and the squelches of your arousal. It’s everywhere, dripping between both of you, and dripping to the table.
Skin flushing every time he hits that gummy part inside of you, vision blurring, so fucked that you can’t even form words.
“Love -ugh - you,“ Geralt can’t even form coherent sentences anymore. Pupils full blown as he chases his own high - thighs starting to shake under the pressure of your hot, tight hole.
Suddenly your body erupts with pleasure - tingling from your fingers to your toes as the familiar feeling of an orgasm and makes eyes water in relief. Every push of his hips are deep and rough, as his member twitches inside of you.
The orgasm is mind shattering - throat drying as you’re unable to form any other words. Clenching around him so hard that his hips stutter but he continues to drive his cock so deep inside that your legs shake and give out.
His cum fills you with a sound from his lips. The thick white spurts coating the inside of your squeezing walls. It’s been so long - there’s so much, it’s leaking from where you connect but Geralt doesn’t seem to mind as he props himself on his elbows next to your head and brings his lips to your own.
But he’s still not done, twitching and releasing his load deep inside so much so that you’re huffing against his lips and pushing against his chest for him to release you, "Gods - there is so much, you brute.”
“Been so long, sweetheart. Maybe that’s why you were being bratty, was I neglecting my beautiful flower?” And if you thought those words made your cheeks flush his next ones makes your whole body hot, “Don’t look so sad, I promise I’ll fill you up everyday when I’m here.”
Once again fed up with geralt and his vulgar tongue you try and pry yourself away but he doesn’t allow it - instead pulls you into a lip crushing kiss.
“Where are you going, petal?” In that very moment, still buried inside you his cock begins to twitch to life again. “I told you it’s been a while, gotta make up for it.”
“We -,”
He doesn’t let you finish, his tongue slips into your lips as his hand softly kneads at the flush of your thigh.
Eyes looking hopeful as ever he pouts, “I just want to love you, you’ll let me love you again, right?”
Screw him and his adorable puppy eyes. Despite the soreness and burn you already feel with just shifting your weight you nod. Geralt and his incredibly clingy self pulling you into a kiss once more before pulling from your heat where you gasp at the burn.
The relief is short lived as he flips you over and now with your chest against the table no longer allowed to those honey comb eyes. Geralt’s finger grabs at your waist, hosting your hip up into the air.
This time he doesn’t offer you too much time to adapt to him, already lubed from his endless cum but he does touch that spot deep inside of you that makes you breathless once again.
He’s barely started and your thighs are already shaking, your hole aching around his length. So sensitive and fussy that you try to crawl up the table and pry him from his natural needs.
“Is alright.” He presses a kiss to your spine and moves your hair to one side so he can kiss the skin behind your ear. “I’m gonna take care of you, beautiful, like I always do. Is it okay?”
You nod despite the tears that prickle your eyes. It feels so good to have him fill you up after coming. Geralt’s strong arm wraps around your front before pulling until your back is against his chest and he whispers, “Don’t you ever feel I would pick anyone over you. You are my sun and my moon. I’ll just have to keep reminding you until you get it.”
Your eyes widen suddenly at his harsh teeth biting into your shoulder. There was no doubt you were leaving this room until you believed it was true.
You turn over your arm to inspect your new tattoo, skin still red and tender from the process. You look up at Geralt, who’s brandishing the same tattoo design on his own skin, and you grin, “I think it suites us, don’t you think.”
You and Jaskier have been traveling about the Continent together for…well, forever it feels like. Just when it seems you’ve written a song about everything, you make the acquaintance of a Witcher and inspiration strikes! Though, Geralt seems to regard your artistic voice with indifference, borderline disdain. You’re starting to take his comments personally.
“I like that, it’s just jaunty enough, I think.”
“That’s not how it happened.”
You glanced up at Geralt who, perched on Roach’s back, seemed as tall as the cliff faces around you. His amber eyes were squinted in your and Jaskier’s direction, watching as he often did. Always so alert. Though you surmised it was a habit that came with the Witcher title. But the aversion in his furrowed brow and frown? That was all Geralt.
“Where’s your newfound respect?” He asked, forcing your focus back to his words.
“Respect doesn’t make history,” Jaskier countered before he began to sing again. Geralt stayed still, fists tightening around Roach’s reins as your fellow bard sang away.
“It’s poetic,” you added when you saw the Witcher’s jaw clench. “An artistic reimagining.”
“It’s a lie,” he huffed, “life isn’t poetic.”
“That’s why we make music. We make things…more palatable. Your life of violence isn’t suited for everyone.” You pointed to your cut lip and added, “I know people that would run for the hills with a wound like this. But our songs will mark you in history for your chivalry…”
Geralt grunted, clearly unmoved by your speech. Despite all you and Jaskier tried to do for the Witcher, he was determined to discourage your efforts. You had long since grown tired of his unamused ‘hmming’ and blank, quiet watching. Through gritted teeth you spat out a stinging end to your miniature diatribe.
“…your chivalry, which is yet another artistic reimagining.”
Before he could make another hum of displeasure, you left Geralt in the sandy dust and followed after Jaskier. He reached the chorus in your new ballad as you neared him and, as you fell into step beside him, you glanced over your shoulder. Geralt was still….still, his head moving to take in the sight of the canyon you were walking through. For a moment, you felt that maybe your speech had reached through the iced-over love in his heart.
Then you saw his shoulders sink with a sigh and the deep line of a frown on his lips form as he pressed on Roach’s flanks to push the horse forwards. You wore your own frown as you pulled your eyes to the path ahead. As you walked, you listened to Jaskier as he sang about a more poetic Geralt that slew Elves and caught coins. Never would you admit it, but it was that fictionalized Witcher in the ballad that you found yourself dreaming of in the dark of night.
What made those wonderings all the worse was the fact that the true Witcher, Geralt, your inspiration, was always a mere few paces away. Whether you were staying the night in a grimey inn or were laid across from him with a campfire between you, as you were later that night, Geralt was always nearby. Always a reminder of what, of who, you couldn’t have. Being held hostage by the steep rock faces of the canyon did not help to ease that turmoil. Even over the crackling embers, you could hear Geralt shift in his sleep.
The sound echoed too much of reality and made falling to the fantasy of your dreamy Witcher far too difficult. From where you laid, you glanced to your right, away from the dwindling campfire, over to Jaskier. His lips were parted and soft snores filed out of his mouth only forcing rest farther from you. With a sigh, you looked up to the starry sky.
In it, you found the same quiet, and seemingly indifferent, company Geralt provided. You longed for more warmth; though you would never admit that out loud. The songs you wrote were devoid of romance for that purpose. You did not dare give away any hint of your feelings. Doing so would feel worse than death, you imagined.
And imagine you did. Your mind wandered and you stayed, terribly awake, staring up at the sky for a few minutes more before you got up. With your companions asleep, you were careful with your steps as you made off towards a nearby strip of woods. You hoped that a midnight stroll along the treeline would tire you out or, at least, dull the whirlwind whistling of your thoughts as they raced by.
Yet, you found yourself venturing further into the bush to better escape them. Ferns of all sorts nipped at your legs while a small symphony of nocturnal birds led you deeper. Their singing distracted you enough, but not quite enough to dull your every thought of Geralt, as he consumed so many.
And definitely not enough to ignore how a sudden mass of fog seemed to surround you. Hazy and light, the low clouds sent a shiver down your spine. How eery, you thought before you asked yourself: how could this be worked into a ballad? Perhaps there was a poor fair maiden, lost and alone, who wandered the woods in search of home.
But you were no fair maiden, and that would be considered dishonest if Geralt had any say. You scoffed at the thought. How you hated his influence over you. Every comment he made, every disapproving stare, Gods! However, it wasn’t anger for the Witcher himself that swelled in your chest. No, it was anger for yourself, for falling for a man so, seemingly, cold.
Your body, unable to hold all that disdain within itself, made your foot stomp against the obscured earth as you trekked through the fog. Heaviness nestled in your heart like a root of some toxic plant and you forced yourself to stop, take a breath. The walk through the woods wasn’t helping to clear your head, not anymore. You needed to lay down, push the thoughts aside with the promise of sleep.
Though, when you took the next few seconds to glance around, you saw only fog. “But I am lost,” you murmured bitterly, “and I am alone.”
It was then you heard the crackling of twigs. A white-hot flash of panic flooded your entire being. Where had it come from? Somewhere in the fog! Above? To the side?
Fear sent you into a frenzy of wide-eyed glances between trees and through the mist. You saw nothing but heard something. Something large, you imagined, something viler than the elves of the morning. Something with sharper teeth and a thirst for blood.
Just as you felt the darkness of doom creep over your shoulders, a glimmer in the fog caught your eyes. Almost as if a firefly found itself lost in the haze, a dull flicker of light spread through the mass of mist. The romantic in you hoped that it was a mystical muse lighting your way back to camp. A more primal part of you begged you to step towards your only possible source of illumination.
The Geralt in you, his voice nearly ever-present, scolded you. Turn around and run, that’s what it told you. For the first time, you were compelled to listen.
Quickly, you spun around on your heel and tried to ignore the continuous rustling of fauna behind you. You started forwards, back the way you came, just as the sounds of whatever hidden something grew louder. With each step you took, your apprehension grew, as did the volume of the growling, glowing creature that stalked after you. Your gut twisted with wild nerves, stirring you into the closest thing to a sprint as you could muster.
Lungs heaving, you darted through the trees in a desperate attempt to escape. Astray in the searing panic that was running for your life, you sent frantic, wild-eyed glances over your shoulder. What chased after you was a spindly figure that almost seemed to glow from its chest, shedding a dim light on the forest floor before it. Soulless eyes were sunken in a wrinkled face that was framed by a pair of pointed ears.
You didn’t have a clue what it was, only that its grimace made it less friend and more a dangerous foe.
You didn’t have a clue what it was, until a gruff voice shouted out, “Fogler!”
The yell made you jump, set your footfalls off-center, and primed you to fall flat on your face. Roots entangled your foot, anchoring you firmly and suddenly to the dirt. Stones and sharper twigs bit at every inch of skin you had exposed. You winced at the pain until the scurrying and nasty gurgling of the creature, the Fogler, pulled you back to the threat of death. Then numbed by fear, you turned and saw it.
Claws, long and dark, reached for you. In a feeble attempt of defense, you raised your hands and cried out.
Rather than a strike, thick wetness hit your open palms. Slowly, you lowered your arms and looked at where the Fogler had been moments before. The creature was still there, though it was laid back and a dagger was buried in its chest.
“Are you alright?” Asked the same gravelly, and terribly familiar, voice from before. With wide eyes, you glanced up and were met with Geralt’s amber eyes. He looked down at you, as he always did, with his hand extended towards you, fingers waiting for your own.
“You…You?”
“Were you expecting a valiant knight?” He asked, gently shaking his hand for you to take it. “C’mon.”
You shook your head and stood on your own, despite the aching in your legs. Geralt’s sudden appearance shook you from the panic that claimed you a mere moment ago. “Did you follow me? Were you following me?!”
“You went for a walk in the woods, in the dark, like an idiot. So, yes, I followed you.” Geralt replied, his hand falling to his side and gesturing towards the slain creature behind you. “It’s a good thing I did.”
“A good thing?!”
“Yes,” Geralt replied coolly. Even in the limited light, you could make out his stone-cold features. There was no give in him. No deeper twinge that whispered of concern he held for you. But the way his eyes were fixed on you made you feel so watched, so wonderfully, frighteningly seen. How infuriating he was!
"Gods! All you ever do is watch and grumble and groan! You’re,” you threw your hands up in the air and looked up as if the right words hung there. You found nothing. “You’re-”
“What? What am I, Y/N?”
At the softer tone of his question, you felt compelled to meet Geralt’s gaze. His expression was still blank, waiting, and his posture was, as always, heavy. Shoulders were drawn back slightly, as if ready to hurl another dagger into the heart of a new threat. The way he carried himself made the quiet, honest curiosity in his voice all the more strained.
“Immovable,” you admitted in a breath, “a tower whose shadow I can’t escape.”
Geralt’s lips quirked upwards then, one of those fleeting smiles that you saw him wear all too rarely. Despite his expression, there was a sadness in his voice as he said, “sounds poetic.“
It was then, caught in a ray of moonlight, that you saw a Witcher more akin to the one that had your heart. Geralt’s gentle side shone through in the darkest hour. What sweet torture it was to see him at last, to have him so close, but unable to touch.
As if he read that thought, Geralt’s gaze dropped from yours and you felt a chill run down your spine. He was always out of reach. You had Folger blood on your hands anyway.
"We should get back to the camp,” you mumbled bitterly.
Geralt hummed in response, a sound you assumed was an agreement. Yet, as you began to walk past him, a hand shot out and gripped your arm. You stopped dead in your tracks and found Geralt’s eyes once more. Something shifted, something gave way.
Wordlessly, Geralt’s hand brushed down your arm until his fingers found your wrist. He pulled one of your ichor-covered hands close to his chest. You wanted to ask what he was doing, what he was planning, but you didn’t dare ruin the moment or interrupt the sensation of his skin against your own. When he pulled out an already grimey handkerchief from a pocket on his dark trousers, any question you held died on your tongue.
“Thank you,” you murmured as Geralt wiped the blood off your hands. His movements slowed as crimson soaked in the fabric, but he did not loosen his grip. You saw the amber of his eyes flick down to your lips before he looked into your eyes again.
"Poetic enough for you?”
There was an edge to his question. Not quite like the refined, cutting edge of Geralt’s favorite sword or the usual harsh honesty his words were laced with. No, it was teasing. It was an edge of humor that you had barely seen Geralt express since you met him.
“So much so that I must be imagining it,” you replied, playing into his tone.
Geralt’s eyes wandered back down to your lips at your response. When he met your gaze again, there was a question heavy in his features, his furrowed brow, and parted mouth. You leaned in closer, hoping he would take the hint, take your silent answer to his silent question. When his grip on your wrist tightened and he pulled you to his chest, you became grateful for the Witcher’s watchfulness, his intuitiveness.
Through you were far more grateful for the surprising softness of his lips, how easily they melded against your own. How you fit together like a dream, like two lines of poetry that flowed lyrically into each other. Your next song felt like that midnight kiss.
![[gif] // requester: @mashtoncliffin // request hereIMAGINE: YOU AND GERALT GETTING MATCHING TATTOOS.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0e284c9969ebae099a87e65fa92d16b5/e499bd689b4590d7-42/s1280x1920/99de2d814c7eea6ddb5022c98be7fb494f2086af.png "[gif] // requester: @mashtoncliffin // request hereIMAGINE: YOU AND GERALT GETTING MATCHING TATTOOS.")
