Healing Hands. || Geralt of Rivia x F!Reader. [ONESHOT.]
There are not many beings that Geralt trusts to tend to his wounds. Amongst the limited few is a novice woodland witch - one that he’s long felt affection for.
Explicit Sexual Content. Witch!Reader. Hurt/Comfort Elements.
WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY. Wounds and Injuries. Explicit Sex (F!Receiving Oral & Vaginal). Reader Has Long Hair - But No Other Physical Descriptions Used. Not Beta Read. Minorly Edited.
MASTERLIST || TAGLIST
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“Why do you always have to end up like this?”
The words are spoken more to yourself than him. Muttered. Annoyed. Yet, simultaneously gentle and concerned. Just like the brush of your fingers are you pack herbs around his wound - holding them in place as you wind the bandage tighter around his muscled side.
Geralt only hums. The heat of your cottage and the warmth of your touch is nice. Comforting. He knows that he can relax here. That he’s safe with you.
Yet, your displeasure at his state remains obvious.
His hands raise. They settle on your hips. Insistent, yet gentle - broad and strong as he slowly tries to reel you in. Wanting to bring you closer to where he sits upon your bed. Ignoring the fact that even now as you stand above - straddling his legs while tending to his wounds - you’re not far from him at all.
Still, he needs more.
