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* summary written by me
⚔️ DRABBLES
Pillow Talk by @railroad-migraine
Now that Geralt has Ciri under his protection, the reader assures him that he has what it takes to be what the orphan princess needs.*
Still Here by @mandos-things
You should be used to waking up alone, even after another life changing night with Geralt. Your heart disagrees.*
There Was Only One Bed by @starryeyedstories
friends to lovers
Sharing a bed and being told to “stay on your side of the bed“ only to wake up the next day, with their arms wrapped around you.
Star gazing by @/starryeyedstories
Geralt shows you the stars.*
Geralt + river by @/starryeyedstories
A bath in the river with some company.*
Feeling for each other in the dark by @/starryeyedstories
You seek Geralt’s warmth.*
Geralt Headcanons by @/starryeyedstories
❤️ romance + ☁️ soft
Geralt + hugs by @andsheloved
[headcanon]
Your Witcher’s types of hugs.*
Your Witcher by @velvetcloxds
You cannot fall asleep without being in the arms of your Witcher.
Grant no Clemency by @owillofthewisps
the outside world is cruel, you know. and sometimes it is worse to have tasted kindness and return to such malice.
⚔️ONESHOTS
Cold by @plus-size-reader
Enjoying the snow while Ciri and Geralt find it far less agreeable.
Untitled by @dinahdarling
[no reader]
Geralt goes back to Kaer Morhen for the first time after the incident at Blavikin.*
Love of His Life by @13atoms
Angst with a happy ending
Set at the Temple of Melitele in season 2 of the netflix show, on the evening Yennefer arrives (pretend the fire mage doesn’t exist).
Love Tonics by @/13atoms
Friends to lovers
You visit a tavern during your travels with Geralt to sell some potions. As he watches you from the bar, the Witcher is reunited with an “old friend” who gives him plenty to think about.
Heart Moon by @/13atoms
Fluff; friends to lovers
There’s a heart moon above our sleeping heroes, and the beginning of a love story growing between them.
Stolen Moments by @certifiedskywalker
Geralt was right when he said that the life of a Witcher is not one suited to children, to a family. But Geralt was your family, your love, and you would take any stolen moments you could get. Even if that meant not getting enough sleep on long nights.
The Hunt by @/certifiedskywalker
strangers to lovers
It was a meeting by chance: two hunters that work alone. More like two storm heads clashing in the dark of a night's sky. That night, you both took a risk. Weeks later, you both found it was not a risk at all. It was fate tying you together.
An Artistic Reimagining by @/certifiedskywalker
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.
Pet Names by @/certifiedskywalker
[18+] fwb to lovers
You and Geralt have an arrangement, however causal. One night, there’s a slip and lines blur; but the night plays off as smoothly as a song.
Binding Magic of Attraction by @/certifiedskywalker
The village you called home has always had a monster problem. The first time the Witcher was called, it was a Cockatrice infestation. He had had the beasts handled before the sunset; left as swiftly as he came. The second time the farmers that lived around you summoned him, it was a Barghest. After he battled the creature, you took the Witcher into your care. He left two days later, though you had wished he had stayed with you longer. Now, your neighbors had called upon the Witcher for a third time, to deal with you.
A Lifetime of Anticipation by @lia-writes
[princess!reader; fluff]
Geralt helps you with your hair.
Now I Am Under by @riviawitch3r
Geralt loses his temper; but though his fuse can be short, his love for you is immeasurable.*
Let Me Be Your Mirror by @/riviawitch3r
How Geralt feels about his scars.*
Sum of Our Parts by @/riviawitch3r
Deaf!reader
while enjoying an evening together in an inn, some unwelcome interested parties cause trouble, and reader has to put them in their place.*
Save your heart by @/riviawitch3r
Deaf!reader; angst with a happy ending
Geralt goes after a siren and has to be saved by his lover.*
Unspoken by @/riviawitch3r
Fluff
Geralt coming home is always a cause for excitement.*
Found in Your Arms by @/riviawitch3r
whump
An old enemy takes the one the Witcher loves most, but he should know better: the white wolf is most dangerous when the stakes are high.*
Until the Sky Falls Down on Me by @/riviawitch3r
Hurt/comfort; sick!geralt
Petal by @/andsheloved
Strangers to friends to lovers
Geralt was never a man of many words, so he does what he can to show how he feels for you.
Bring Your Hunger by @intrepidacious
[18+] succubus!reader
There is a Witcher in your house.
The Water I’m Wading In by @/owillofthewisps
a Witcher’s burden is heavy, and the world’s touch can be exhausting, but you will always let him rest.
A Fated Storm by @author-morgan
Magic!reader
If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Geralt of Rivia will be bleeding when he shows up at your door—or in this case, when you find him lying on the side of the road during a storm.
Needed Rest by @/author-morgan
Fluff
Geralt comes to one place he knows he can rest.
⚔️TWOSHOTS
Bone Deep Chill: Part 1 & Part 2 by @/13atoms
1. Caught in a viscous storm, you find yourself in a freezing inn, sharing two rooms between three grouchy people. Worse still, you're fighting off the cold settling deep in your bones.
2. After a cold night warming up in Geralt's arms, it's not clear where your relationship with the Witcher stands.
Hearsay & Smitten by @/13atoms
1. Reader is travelling with Geralt and Jaskier as they journey across the continent. When the Witcher is hired to kill a Basilisk in a particularly hostile town, you can’t help but protest at the hatred they seem to harbour for the monster hunter.
2. After a night with Geralt, reader continues onwards, travelling with Geralt and Jaskier until a peaceful morning of travel becomes a far more dangerous.
⚔️SERIES
The Cottage at the Edge of the Woods by @/starryeyedstories
[series: complete; plus-size!reader, healer!reader; a set of oneshots set in the same universe]
When monsters are cruel and the Continent is crueler, Geralt knows he can always find a few days of peace with you, the gentle healer who lives in the cottage at the edge of the woods.
Beckoning Light by @/owillofthewisps
[18+] [series: in progress]
the wisps have never led you astray, but you hadn’t expected them to lead you to him.
It takes a while for Geralt to realize the music is gone. Oh Jaskier still sings- for their supper, for Ciri when she's sad, to entertain Kaer Morhen on late card playing nights. But the music- the music is gone. No more of the mindless humming as he walks, no more parsing over rhymes by the fire, no more harassing Geralt for his thoughts on such and such melody. Jaskier sings like a wind-up music box, only when requested, cranked for it, and snapping shut into silence like the sharp closing of a lid.
Yennefer snorts at his concern. "It took you this long to notice?"
Geralt grunts. She smiles, sharp and bitter. "You always were slow."
"How do I fix it?" Geralt snaps. He is not here to be mocked or play games.
"Can you fix it?" Yennefer asks. "I don't know."
Geralt doesn't know either. All he can do is try.
One of the mages had left a god's damned harpsichord in their tower room. It takes Geralt weeks- lugging the ornate monstrosity down from the mages tower, finding schematics in the library for the damn thing, undoing by sheer will the rot and moulding of a hundred years on the instrument. He spends his evenings waist deep in the guts of the instrument, swearing over chords and tuning and keys.
Jaskier's silence, now that he notices it, gapes like an open wound, bleeding wherever he goes. It stains memories of years past, of a cheerful smile and conversation given to him so freely, so easily, not a hint of subterfuge or awkwardness or fear. Now Jaskier only says good morrow if Geralt says it first, only speaks when spoken to, only smiles when Ciri is looking his way.
Geralt polishes the harpsichord until his fingers blister and his nose stings from the smell. He paints the elaborate carvings with pure gold leaf. He spends hours tightening strings trying to get the thing in tune. He worries over it like a child, because he doesn't know what else to do.
"What do you think?" He asks Eskel as they carry it carefully down to Jaskier's room.
"Appreciate it?" Geralt doesn't want appreciation. He wants that soft tone back in Jaskier's voice when he speaks to him. He wants Jaskier to speak to him, to turn to him free and easy with something to say.
"He'll like it," Eskel says, "Just-"
He turns, his soft eyes full of warning. "Just don't put all your hopes on an old harpsichord."
Lambert snorts, "Too little too late!" He laughs. And Lambert has always been hateful, more so since Aiden was lost, but the words feel true.
Jaskier smiles when he presents him with the harpsichord. He exclaims and laughs and claps his hands. He extolls its virtues, coos over its decorations, fusses over it with all the enthusiasm of a performing parrot. He pulls Ciri onto his lap and guides her hands on the keys, composes a little ditty on the fly for Yennefer, plays something sweet and sad that makes Lambert turn his face away. In all the merriment and gratitude and excitement, he looks Geralt in the eyes only once. Once, upon the first shock of the present. Once, with eyes wide and open, like a wound.
Geralt lingers as the others go off to bed, watching as Jaskier slowly fades as his audience wanes.
"Thank you, Geralt." he says. "It is truly a magnificent present. And far more than I deserve."
Do not thank me is what Geralt wants to say. Do not thank me, not when I have done this to you.
"I didn't do much," is what comes out of his mouth. "It was already there."
Jaskier does not look at him. "If this is an apology-" he says, "I do not need it. You were tired and upset. You spoke your mind. And nothing you said was- untrue. From a certain point of view. You do not need to absolve your guilt to me."
"Jaskier," Geralt says. "I'm sorry."
"And I forgive you." Jaskier says "I forgave you even the moment you after spoke. I don't think I would be myself if I could do otherwise."
It is done. The gift given, the apology accepted. And yet the silence still sits heavy in the air. It is not fixed. It is still broken. It is still out of tune and all of Geralt's twisting and tunings have not set the melody to rights.
"Why are you still like this?" He says. Jaskier stiffens. The words are wrong again, he's done it again, and he could scream with frustration, like a child who keeps swinging the sword and cutting himself on the dulled edge.
"Do you know the Countess de Stael bought me a Stradivarius once?" Jaskier said. "You don't know what that is. A fiddle, rarer than rubies. There were only twenty ever made. It sings like nothing else. She presented it to me on a bed of velvet, and told me she loved me. She told me to stay. And I would have."
Jaskier plinks a few idle notes. "She kicked me out a month later. Too mouthy. Too tacky. Too gauche. She had found someone better. She took back the Stradivarius and handed it off to her new minstrel."
"What I am saying, Geralt-" He says. "What I am asking- Is that you not do things you do not mean. That you not give me false hope. That you stop trying to make me love you, because I already do. I already do and it hurts. It hurts so much."
It was a normal night by the campfire. Geralt was cataloguing his potions when the lute music suddenly stopped. An idle scenting of the air didn't warn of pain nor fear, so Geralt continued.
It was when he heard the clang of the lute being chucked to the side without care that he finally looked up. Jaskier was standing up from where he previously sat to play idle music, and his eyes were completely pitch black.
Jaskier then tries to walk directly into the campfire, and Geralt literally has to pounce and tackle him into the dirt to stop him before he hurts himself.
"Jaskier! Jask, can you hear me!?" Geralt demands desperately, shaking Jaskier by the shoulders, but Jaskier keeps a blank expression, pitch black eyes unseeing.
When Geralt rolls off of him to inspect him further, Jaskier simply stands back up, and starts walking in the direction he was going last time, though now that he's moved away from the campfire, he's not going to burn himself by walking that direction any more.
Geralt follows him for a while, before realizing Jaskier won't stop his walk for a long time. So Geralt picks him up and takes him back to camp, putting him on Roach, getting on behind him, and riding Roach into town at maximum speeds as he holds onto his bard.
Further research (talking to people around town) reveals that it's not just Jaskier, it's in fact every single Bard. All poets, troubadours, and singers were struck with inked eyes and a penchant for wandering toward the same unknown destination.
Geralt doesn't know where the bards are going, but he sure as hell isn't letting his bard go there. So Geralt follows the signs of the herd of musicians, his own bard always on a makeshift lead.
Rope tied around Jaskier's waist, the other end tied around Geralt's wrist, and he near-always clings onto it for extra good measure.
When Geralt rests, or hunts, he leaves Jaskier's lead tied to a tree. Jaskier tries his best to walk off, but his lead doesn't let him, and thank god, he hasn't seemed to notice what's stopping him from moving onward.
Until the night Geralt comes back to camp to a distressed Roach and a missing bard, and a cut rope. Damn it.
Geralt is now racing against time to find where the bards are going, because his own bard has gone. Geralt doesn't know where they're headed, what or who they expect to find when they get there, but Geralt will sooner take his swords to his own heart before he lets this trance take his Jaskier.
💌Cupid's Note: This is a republished post, I had it posted on the OG account before I got hacked. Happy Reading! - Ultralight
⚠️Cupid's Disclaimer: angst. angst. Smut?
❤️🔥Heart Rate: 4k+ words
💋 Cupid's Hint: You love Geralt, too bad a love spell ruins the chance.... or does it?
💘 Main Masterlist: HERE
💌Request Inbox: OPEN
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Happy Reading! ❤️
♡ ⸻ ♡ ⸻ ♡
Geralt was going to tear whoever did this to you to pieces. He would gouge their eyes out and make them eat them.
That was just one of the thoughts that rang through his mind as he cradled you in his arms, your nose bleeding onto his now naked torso, the shirt you had torn off of him a mere moment ago nearly in the fire.
This was not supposed to be how this happened, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. He had made himself stay away for this exact reason, everything he loved was destroyed.
The witcher had always been against you joining the group.
You had been a brothel worker when you came upon Jaskier six months ago, walking the streets with achy legs from a long shift, smelling of the salt water you had bathed in when you saw a group of men holding him up and beating on him.
A yell had crossed your lips and without thinking you picked up a log near your feet, launching at the men and swinging anywhere you could to scare them off, hitting a couple of them harshly before they finally scampered away leaving you standing in the mud with a log and the poor fool laying bloody and beaten on the ground.
You had brought him to your tiny rooms at the brothel, helped him clean up and soon enough he was asking you to join them. You hesitated for a moment, watching him use one of your rags to dot at the cuts along his face before shrugging.
Anything is better than the life of a brothel worker, right?
Wrong.
Brothels didn’t have the annoying attitude of Geralt the fucking Witcher. Okay well some did since Jaskier admitted to Geralt being a frequent guest of them, but you had never seen him and you wished you never met him either.
He spent every waking moment snapping at you, or blatantly ignoring you when you were trying to ask questions. It was either you didn’t exist or everything you did was wrong, and you could never figure out why the way he treated you bothered you so fucking much.
Men had done far worse to you in that brothel, but Geralt giving you the cold shoulder nearly brought you to tears? What?
Then again none of the men that came to the brothel were like Geralt at all. None of them had those melting golden eyes or the firm touch of a protector, none of them could turn a sword in their hands the way he does or make anyone feel at ease in his presence.
Well……anyone but you.
Maybe he knew you had feelings for him, maybe he hated your guts. Many reasons why he never wanted to talk to you filled your head and none of them were good.
You spent your days obsessing over a man that barely glanced back at you, your horse in the back of the group with Jaskier always a force between you both.
Geralt takes a moment to tie the corset of your dress so you weren’t exposed before pulling you into his arms and laying you on his bed, moving to grab a cloth from the basin in the corner of the inn room.
When he returns to your side he takes a chance to slide the hair from your face, swiping the damp cloth along the blood trail your nose left in soft strokes as he watches you sleep. He would make sure you were breathing and comfortable before he went out and broke some limbs.
It had been six months of that behavior, and it was truly beginning to wear you down.
The days were spent either passive aggressively ignoring him back for scoffing at any mistake of yours he pointed out. Today was a passive aggressive silent game.
He had woken you up by snapping in your face and the months of travel and anger were beginning to catch up so you had slapped his hand out of your face, watching a small amount of shock fill his face before his eyes narrowed in anger.
“You overslept….again.” In the beginning you would have a snarky retort, something mocking his breath or face, but now you merely rolled your eyes and turned your back to him as you packed up your bedroll. He doesn’t seem to understand your silent game since he tries to piss you off once more. “We are going to be behind if you keep sleeping like this.”
It would be so easy to turn around and tell him to shove off, but then he would know he had that effect so you simply picked you belongings up, fixed your boots and walked to the horses where Jaskier sat atop his own.
The bard gives you a knowing look as you mount your own horse after fixing everything onto it, legs swinging with a natural ease and a slight warmth on your thigh. When you look down you see Geralt's hand placed on it, and you realize he had helped you up. “Are you angry with me? Or have you lost your voice?”
“Just matching the treatment given to me.” You snark, a feeling of pride in your chest when you see him all but snarl. You kick the horse into gear after that, this time taking the lead as his hand slips from your thigh and he rushes to Roach.
By the time he catches up he makes Roach walk alongside your horse, his face furious. “The treatment I gave you?”
You hum out, moving to speed up your horse but Geralt is too quick, within moments he has the reins of your horse in his hand, pulling on them until you are close enough for your thighs to touch.
“Answer me.”
You hum again, your heartbeat rising and you wonder if he can hear it when his eyes cast down to your chest before looking back at you.
“Humming is not an answer.”
You hum once more, moving to snatch the reins but his hand reaches out to grab your jaw. “I need to hear your voice.”
You slap his hand away once more and snatch the reins, giving him a glare before moving forward.
“I don’t understand.” He grunted to Jaskier later that day, fixing his travel pack on roach as the bard leans against the same post the horses were tied to. You had gone to the market to grab some necessities and when Geralt demanded to go with you he had been met with another empty hum and Jaskier had told him to back down.
“She’ll avoid attention if she isn’t traveling with a witcher, not to mention she knows how to bargain for cheaper prices when she isn’t flanked by your glare.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He growls, watching the bard smirk.
“The market workers like the attention she can give them-”
“We agreed she didn’t have to do any of that stuff if she traveled with us.”
“She does this willingly, and even so it’s not the same as in the brothel. She doesn’t have to offer up her-” A heavy growl slips from Geralt and Jaskier chooses not to finish his sentence, instead rolling his eyes and moving to his own horse. “I think you would be better off if you just told her you love her.”
“I do not-”
“Oh hush. I see you watch her sleep every morn, then I see you yell at her for waking up late because you forgot to wake her up.” He laughs. “And I see you hover whenever she mounts and dismounts Lugo. Not to mention the way you give her the bigger rations of whatever we eat and-”
“Fuck off.”
Jaskier takes the win and turns away from the witcher, fiddling with the lute while Geralt tries to make himself look busy.
After a moment of silence the witcher stands quickly. “Why won’t she speak to me?”
A laugh escapes the bard once more. “Because you ignore her any chance you get?”
“I do not.”
“Well I know that. But she doesn’t, because you never even bother talking to her. You’d rather silently pine like a lost-” He trails off when he sees you emerge from the hills, sacks of produce in your arms with a small smile on your face. “Fresh hells.”
“The men were ready to lose their money today boys!”
“Did they bother you?” Geralt growls and you give him a glare back before shoving the sack of apples into his chest.
Once he is sure you are breathing properly he covers you with the blanket, before moving to grab his sword, careful not to wake you up.
You spend the rest of the day simply ignoring them both, too busy being proud of the way you scammed the merchants and all you had to do was lift your skirt to your knee.
Geralt kept Roach near your own horse, and Jaskier took the back for once, all of you traveling in silence until Jaskier begins to whine.
“It has been forever since we slept indoors.”
Silence follows for a moment before Geralt turns to glare at him. “And Y/n just saved us so much coin we can each get a room in the next town.”
“This is true! I did!” You laugh, turning to look at Jaskiers mopey face.
“Fuck.” Geralt grunts, turning back to the road so he doesn’t have to look at either of you again.
Jaskier is still sitting in the hall with his lute, strumming softly in the drunken daze as the crowd they had gathered earlier has finally died down.
“Bard.” Geralt grunts, trying to get his attention. But Jaskier doesn’t move, simply keeps his eyes closed as he plays a chord. So Geralt kicks his chin.
The bard before him jumps up with a shout before his eyes land on the white haired witcher before him.
“I got us all rooms and I found you in a hallway.”
“I was merely resting for a moment.” He sighs, reaching down to grab the ale mug filled with coins he earned from his performance. “It’s hard to be a -”
The silver amulet is shoved in his face before he can finish the sentence, eyes widening as Geralt grunts. “Who gave this to Y/n?”
“The charming blonde who had been dancing with her all night while you sat in the back and glared.”
“Where did he disappear to?”
“You mean after you snatched her?”
By the time the three of you made it to the next town your ass was worn from the saddle and you were a bit wobbly when you got down, Geralt standing behind you and you scoffed as you looked at him. “Waiting for me to fall so you can lecture me?”
He opens his mouth to respond and you find yourself excited that he is actually about to answer back before he huffs and glares before disappearing. And once more you are left feeling like nothing.
You watch as he disappears into the tavern before turning to Jaskier. “I asked around at the market…”
“About?”
“About work.”
“Ah!” He smiles, moving to lean on you. “And what did you find for our dear witcher to do?”
“Not for him actually.” Your throat tightens as you struggle to find the words. Jaskier doesn’t seem to catch on to your solemn mood.
“Oh? A performance for me? I’m sure I can prepare a lullaby or two-”
“For me.” You interrupt, pulling yourself away from him and crossing your arms uncomfortably as he stares at you.
“For…..you?” You nod at his question, trying to gain some power here. “What do you-”
“Madame Horchels brothel is in this town, she is famous within word and if I met with her then I am sure I would be set up with a room and a hot meal a day-”
“Why in fucks sake would you ever want to go back to that?”
Tears were welling in your eyes as he stared at you and you struggled to find words. “I am just……tired of feeling useless and pathetic……”
“So you would go back to whoring?”
“You don’t have to act so disgusted!” You snap, shame filling you at his reaction. “I never saw you complaining about my past when I was flirting with guards or-”
“I am sorry, I never meant to judge. I just think…..” He sighs out and rubs his face aggressively before moving to pull you into a hug. “It’s been a cold couple days. How about we go in and get a drink, a good night's rest in actual beds before we make decisions? Yeah?”
A hooded figure passes you both to get into the tavern and you simply shrug. “I think my mind is made up Jask.”
“I think it would be a mistake and we would miss you terribly……..okay I would miss you terribly.”
“Why would you miss her?” Geralt snaps out from a couple steps away, eyes squinted in an angry manner. He had originally come to snap at you both to watch your surroundings but had caught the tail end of the conversation instead.
“Y/n here was just rushing a decision. But we aren’t gonna talk about that, right now a round of ale on me.”
“You spent all your coin two towns ago on new strings for your lute.” Geralt reminds, eyes never leaving your figure.
“Then I shall make more coin!” He cheers, pulling you into the tavern and snatching the room keys from Geralt.
Things escalated from there, and any time Geralt asked about their conversation they changed the subject and he was beginning to lose his mind. Were you okay? Why would Jaskier miss you? Why was he so worried about this? He watched you drink all night, ignoring him, and he watched as many of the men in the tavern asked you for a dance. He knew none of the men were a threat, and you knew how to handle them, even if it got out of control he could have his sword to their throat with a mere minute. So he didn’t really pay attention to your dance partners.
But one in particular caught his attention, the hooded figure that had walked too close to you both earlier had emerged from his corner and asked for a dance, and something in Geralt screamed for him to go and get you away. But he didn’t, instead he sat back and drank, allowing you room to have fun.
The blonde stranger whirled you around and spun you and bought you drink after drink. Your eyes glazed over and your smile was wide enough to split your face, a jealous feeling crept into Geralts chest and the urge to punch the stranger grew and grew as Jaskier played song after song.
“Can I get you another drink?”
“Hmm?” Geralts attention snaps from your figure to the tavern wench beside him, giving him a small smile.
“Another ale?”
“I think I am fine. Thank you-” She doesn’t wait, walking away since she didn’t get more coin and when Geralt sneaks his attention back to you he can’t help but slam his empty mug down.
The stranger had you turn around with you lifting your hair as he placed an amulet on your neck, kissing your shoulder and before Geralt could stop himself he lunged to grab you.
One moment you are giggling about the gorgeous, the next you are thrown over Geralts shoulder as he shoves the gorgeous fae away from you, hauling you up the stairs of the inn with no care.
“Put me down!” You shout, slamming your hand into his back as he walks through the first hall then up the next flight of stairs.
“You’ve had too much to drink.”
“And you care why?”
“Because that man would take advantage.’ He growls.
“Well he gave me a necklace, that’s how the business works.” You giggle, reaching up to touch the necklace but the world whirls once more as Geralt places your feet on the ground and pushes you into the wall. His hand stopped your head from hitting the wood but the rest of you was pressed between him and the wall.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” You ask breathlessly, watching his face with adoration. Had he always been so…..
“Joke about that. You need something then I will get it for you.”
“What if I want the prettiest jewels in the kingdom?”
“Then I kill more beasts.” He was dead serious and the hazy feeling was taking over so before you know it you find yourself leaning in to whisper “What is I want an orgasm?”
A red tint crosses his neck but his face remains serious as he leans his head against yours to whisper. “Then you ask me.”
And for a moment you can’t breathe, you find yourself aching, every part of you wanting to touch him suddenly. But before you can he whispers once more. “But not tonight. My first time with you will be sober.”
Then the wood behind you disappears and you realize he had pressed you against the door to your room. Landing in a ball on the floor he sends a small smile before slamming the door and the heat that had filled you dims for a moment.
But just for a moment.
You pull yourself up from the floor, moving to the bed before the aching returns and your body heats up twice as bad. Everything begins going hazy as a sweat covers you and then you lose it.
“I need to go.” Geralt snaps, shoving Jaksier to the direction of the stairs. “You go watch her. Don’t let her make any more mistakes.”
“Where are you- Geralt? What happened?! Hello?!” Jaskier calls after the witcher, watching him storm through the tavern before slamming the doors on his way out. With a deep sigh the bard grabs his jacket and mug of coins before making his way to find the rooms.
It had been an hour since he left you in your room and Geralt could not relax himself. Jaskier had just stopped singing and Geralt was still pacing the inn room, back and forth back and forth.
The aching hard on he had refused to go away, the image of your dazed eyes all he could think about, and the way you whispered to him had him so close to snapping all together. But he didn’t, and you were safe in your room with him just two doors down. But the floorboards creaking by his door caught his attention, and he reached for the sword as the doorknob jiggled.
Stepping towards it slowly as it creaks open only to reveal you, standing in the hall in nothing but your dress slip and a flushed face. “Geralt-” You moan out and his knees nearly buckle when you rush in and slam the door.
The sword falls from his hands so he can catch you when you come hurdling to him, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. Your lips melt into his and you moan in victory when he kisses back, pressing yourself against him as your hands fly into his hair.
His own hands find purchase on you hips, and before he can tell himself not to he moves them to start a grinding motion the both of your would like. It stays like this for a moment until you bite his lip on a particularly aggressive moan, pulling back to catch a breath as you press your hips into his harder than before.
For a second he admires you, the way your face scrunches up in pleasure and the moans that he is pulling from your lips, letting out a heavy ‘FUCK’ when you circle your hips.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” You gasp out, hands dragging from his hair to his chest before you start tearing the clasps on his shirt, scratching it a bit in your struggle to get it off. “Ineedyou, it hurtssobad-”
This makes him hesitate, pulling back a little just as you fling his shirt, your hands flying to undo the slip and he finally catches your eyes. Only they weren’t the eyes he had fallen in love with, instead they were a deep red.
“Y/n?” He asks, heartbeat racing as he snatches your wrists in one hand, the other coming to grab you chin. “Look at me.”
“Geralt, please. It hurts.” You whine and the gem in the amulet glows the same red as your eyes.
Dread fills him as he reaches down to tear it off you, the silver cutting you a bit before he chucks it across the room.
He couldn’t breathe properly as he watched you come down from the spell, anger filling him. You hadn’t meant any of this, this had been a spell.
He was a fucking fool.
“Geralt?” You breathe out, taking in the room before looking at his shirtless torso and the small scratches you had made to get the shirt off. “What-”
And just like that you were gone. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your nose started bleeding as you passed out, he barely caught you before you hit the floor. “Fuck.”
You awake mid day- the sun blaring in through the blinds and you do your best to cover your eyes. “Oh make it stop-”
“There are no covers for the window.” Jaskier sighs from where he is laying on the floor. “I tried stealing the blanket from you and you hissed at me.”
“Serves you right….” You mumble, taking in the room as you realize that last night hadn’t been a dream after all and a deep embarrassment fills you.
“H-have…..have you seen Geralt?” You ask, leaning over the bed to look at him.
“He left around sunrise in a pissy mood.”
“Did he… did he say anything?” You felt like an utter fool, and you were doing your best not to be sick.
“Said to watch you so you didn’t make any more mistakes.” Jaskier shrugs before yawning.
“He said that? He said mistake?” Your voice cracks as you wrap the blanket tighter around yourself.
“He did. I assumed he caught you with the blonde gu- Y/n? What’s the matter?”
“I…… I have to go.” You rush out, jumping over him to leave the room.
♡ ⸻ ♡ ⸻ ♡
Geralt finds Jaskier waiting at the horses when he rides up, tired and cranky, and he gets even crankier when he sees that your horse is empty of all your travel bags.
“Is she not awake? Do we need to get a healer?” He rushes out, launching from roach to get to the tavern only for Jaskier to hold the lute in front of him.
“She woke up several hours ago, it’s nearly dusk.”
“Then where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?” His heart is racing too fast and he’s hoping that Jaskier starts laughing soon and this is all a joke.
“I told her you said to make sure she didn’t make any more mistakes and she got really sad and started crying as she packed up.” He explains. “She went to this brothel and they wouldn’t let me in but they let her in and she came out to say bye soon after that.”
“She went to a brothel?!” He snaps, grabbing the collar of Jaskiers dress coat.
“Don’t blame me! This is your doing!”
“How. So.”
“You were the one that made her feel worthless! Never looking at her and always in her business about her mistakes-”
“Her mistakes get her hurt, or worse, killed!”
“Then tell her that! Rather than yell at her all the time with no explanation-”
“Where is the brothel?”
“It’s no use.”
“Where. Is. The. Brot-”
“She made a deal! The madame owns her!”
“Not on my fucking watch.” Geralt snaps, mounting the roach in one fluent move before nodding to Jaskier. “Hurry.”
Summary: They told you not to fall in love with the Witcher. They said that he didn’t feel emotions like a human could, that he was just a filthy mutant that didn’t know love. Yet, you did anyways. And you’d pay the price.
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x f! Reader
WC: 5.9k
Warnings: angst, no happy ending, cheating?, r gets hurt, smut in the form of PinV, dirty talk, fingering (f), kissing, marking, mdni!
Notes: I have only watched the tv show of the Witcher, so I apologize for any inaccuracies! this really has no set timeline, however it IS after Geralt and Yen meet, but before Geralt meets Ciri.
part two out now! -> What You Don't Know
You hadn’t meant to fall in love with the legendary Witcher. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. Everyone in your small village in Redania had warned you against it. They said that Witchers didn’t feel like humans did — that he would never truly be yours, never love you. But when Geralt had showed up to slay Nekkers near your village, without asking for payment, you knew he was different than the monster your village proclaimed him to be.
And maybe it was because you were naive, barely in your twenty-third year of life. Because after he was shunned from your village, you didn’t hesitate to follow him like a lost puppy. And maybe he took pity on you; on the woman with hearts in her eyes. Because Geralt let you travel with him with nary a complaint. He let you ride Roach when your feet hurt. He gave you the biggest portions of his hunts. And he protected you when facing the monsters he killed for a living.
And maybe that was the true reason you fell in love with Geralt of Rivia, because he cared more than the young men in your village ever did.
Geralt was placed on Roach’s back, staring up at the night sky. You called for his attention.
“Geralt?”
“Hm?”
“Might we rest for a bit?”
Geralt looked at where you were, a little ways behind him and Jaskier and panting heavily. He could hear the rapid thump-thump-thump of your heart. He nodded wordlessly, and you sighed in relief while walking towards a fallen log. Plopping down on it, you let out a happy little noise, causing Geralt to tip the corner of his lip up.
“Oh I see, when I, poor Jaskier, ask for a break it’s always a ‘no bard’. But when she,” Jaskier pointed at you with accusation. “Asks, it’s an immediate yes!”
The bard sat down beside you, bumping your shoulder while Geralt hitched up Roach. You stuck your tongue out at Jaskier, blowing a raspberry.
“Geralt just likes me better, Jask.”
Jaskier gasped in mock offense, spluttering. “G-Geralt! Are you just gonna let her say that?!”
Geralt glanced at you two from his perch beside Roach, golden eyes shimmering in amusement. Your heart raced at the sight of him.
“Is what she said not true, though?”
“How dare!”
You laughed loudly, hunching over and gripping your stomach. You didn’t see the fond smile Geralt gave you.
You busied yourself with helping Geralt set up a tent, while Jaskier plucked his lute and hummed under his breath. You looked over at Geralt, admiring the way his white hair cascaded around his face, how his strong biceps flexed with each movement.
“Need something?” His gruff voice called out, and you flushed heavily when he turned his yellow eyes to stare at you, a little smirk tugging his lips. You shook your head, stammering out a response.
“U-Uh, no. I’m just gonna… collect wood! Yes, for a fire!”
You scrambled up from your crouched position, saluting Geralt before shambling off into the nearby wooded area. Geralt chuckled lowly at your retreating form.
“Are you going to tell our fair maiden?”
Geralt stood and looked at the bard, neutrality spread across his face. Roach neighed softly, drawing his attention away from Jaskier.
“Tell her what?”
He questioned, walking closer to his horse and running his fingers through the coarse hair of Roach. She nuzzled his cheek, wet nose cold against his skin.
“You clearly are in love with her.”
Geralt whirled around to glare at the bard, eyes narrowed. He spoke low, a growl vibrating against his chest. Vaguely, he could hear the way your heart was suddenly racing frantically — while a slightly bitter scent infiltrated his nose. He was too preoccupied with his nosy friend to focus on that.
“What?”
Geralt was a man of few words, often communicating with grunts and looks. And his current look was one of murder, and even Jaskier knew not to push. But said bard couldn’t help but rib his friend, just a little.
“I just hope she knows about Yennefer, is all.”
The reaction was instantaneous; Geralt moved as fast as a Striga, crossing the dirt ground and grasping Jaskier by his shirt collar.
Geralt held the bard in the air, ignoring how Jaskier was wheezing for breath. He brought the bard closer, snarling.
“Silence, bard.”
Jaskier went to agree frantically, but was cut off by a high pitched scream, in the direction you had taken off in.
“Fuck.”
Geralt dropped Jaskier, running towards Roach where his head lay. Grasping his sword, he turned to Jaskier and growled out a ‘stay here’ — and then he was off.
The White Wolf didn’t feel fear often, but as he traipsed further into the woods, tracing your scent, he felt scared. He could hear your pained gasps, smell the blood in the air, and the bitter and earthy scent of a Leshy. Geralt himself had never run into one of the forest creatures, but he knew the legends of them were true when he laid his black eyes on the creature currently towering over you.
The Leshy had a skull made of bark, hollow eyes surrounded by pieces of jagged wood . Thick and long antler-like branches protruded from the creature's head. His body was made up of tree bark, and Geralt could understand why local villagers seemed to think this monster was a protector of the forest.
Geralt bellowed, drawing both your attention and the Leshy. You had tears in your beautiful eyes, dirt staining the side of your left cheek. Geralt’s eyes frantically tracked your body, trying to see where the blood was coming from — and then you turned a bit towards him, and Geralt felt rage like he had never felt before. Your left thigh, close to where your femoral artery lay, was drenched in blood. Your simple dress was no match for a Leshen’s talons.
Said creature roared deeply into the air, hollow eyes boring into the Witcher’s. He parted his legs in a battle stance, while the monster moved his branch arms down towards the earth, talons digging into the earthen ground. Geralt knew immediately what the Leshy was planning, and he screamed your name.
“Move!”
You barely had time to roll out of the way before thick vines popped out of the dirt, right where you had been sitting. You watched as they flew towards the Witcher you loved, and you cried harder, completely ignorant of the way your laceration bled more from your movements.
Geralt sprinted to the creature, sword raised. In a swoop, he sliced the blade through the arm of the Leshy, but it barely made a dent.
Think, Geralt!
What did Vesemir always say was their weakness?
An-Igni? No… Igni…
“Igni!” Geralt signed the symbol on his blade, running and thrusting his sword towards the Leshy. He dug the blade in, flames piercing the monster's heart towards the Leshy. The Leshy howled in pain, the fire licking up its body rapidly. Finally, after what felt like forever, the Leshy fell to the ground.
“G-Geralt…,” you whimpered, pressing your hands into your wound. Geralt quickly sheathed his sword on his back, scrambling towards you and lifting you up like you weighed nothing.
“It will be alright,” he murmured, but even he could tell that now that the adrenaline was wearing off, your heart was getting weaker, and you felt colder.
Your eyes flickered shut, before opening slowly.
“Stay with me.”
This time, your eyes remained closed.
When you came to, your thigh felt like it was on fire. Groaning, you looked around groggily. You could tell you were in an inn room, judging by the loud music and boisterous laughter downstairs, as well as the actual bed. Lifting one of the fur blankets, you gazed down at your leg and frowned. The tunic (Geralt’s?) you donned was bunched up at your waist, giving you a clear view of your leg.
Someone, probably Geralt (Jaskier couldn’t stand blood), had wrapped gauze around your thigh. You could see splotches of blood seeping into the material, but it wasn’t flowing like it had been.
Suddenly the wooden door flew open, and Geralt walked in. Your heart leapt in your throat at the sight of him, and you braced yourself for the scolding he would give.
“I'm so glad you’re okay,” he whispered, tone much gentler than you were used to. His voice cracked a little, like it wasn’t used to being used so softly.
You smiled at him, trying to get off the bed but failing miserably when white hot pain licked up from your wound, and you collapsed on your back. Geralt rushed to your side, crouching down beside the bed and staring at you with those deep amber eyes of his. You couldn’t help but bring a hand to his cheek tentatively, watching for any discomfort. When you found none, you pressed the palm of your warm hand into his stubbly skin, smoothing a thumb over the little scars that decorated him.
He released a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed. And you realized, in the year you had been traveling with him, this was the first time he had looked tranquil.
And it was because of you. The sentiment alone was enough for your heart to catch in your throat, for you to lean just close enough to feel the fan of his breath on your lips. Geralt did not resist, and when he opened his eyes to look at you — eyes filled with such emotion, it emboldened you to close the gap between you.
Everything felt right when you did.
His lips tasted like the swill he had most likely gotten from the inn, like the earthy scent of the woods, and like him. It was wonderful, and it was enough for you to forget your wound and lean closer into him, taking your free hand to anchor down on his shoulder.
You stayed like that for a while, languidly moving your lips against his own. But it wasn’t enough, and Geralt must have known because he gingerly laid you back on the furs of the bed, swinging his body to hover over you.
“Do you want this?”
“Yes.”
His hair fell in wisps along the slopes of your cheeks as he leaned in again, kissing you with a passion that you had never known. With one hand, he parted your legs, mindful of your laceration. Geralt maneuvered so his knee rested between your plush thighs. The tunic he had put on you did nothing to block the heat emanating from him, nor the rough material of his leather trousers rubbing against your clothed core.
Geralt could smell your arousal, like the crashing of fast river water, and it just made him unlace the tunic you had been in hurriedly. He groaned low in the back of his throat when your tunic was off, your body laid out for him like an offering. The thought made his cock pulse harder, and try as he might, his control was fastly waning.
You pushed against his thigh needily, arousal gushing from your cunt and soaking your smallclothes. Hands pressing into his shoulders, you drew Geralt ever closer. You couldn’t get enough of him. You had wanted this since you met him, and now that he was letting you have him you weren’t going to let go any time soon. Clasping your hands on the back of his strong neck, you drew him down towards you and slanted your lips against his, sighing in his mouth.
“Take these off,” he grumbled against your lips, biting the flesh into his mouth and tugging. His hands ran hot tracks over your bare thighs, stopping at the cloth that covered your most intimate region.
You leaned up, nibbling at his earlobe.
“As you wish, Geralt.”
Geralt groaned low and leaned back on his haunches, watching as you shimmied delicately out of your loinclothes, breasts moving with the movement. You threw the piece of cloth somewhere in the room, a little zing of pain stabbing through your leg. Geralt put his hand on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles. He looked serious.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this if it hurts.”
Your heart exploded with love. Geralt was always so careful and considerate when it came to you. Smiling up at him, you stroked his clothed bicep and answered him by pressing a kiss to his jawline, licking over the stubble there. He sucked in a breath, undoing his shirt and trousers and tossing them behind him. He wasn’t wearing underpants, and his hard cock pressed hotly against your bare skin. You looked down at his cock, a moan slipping out of your mouth at the sight of it. It was thick, long, and had a delicious vein you wanted to run your tongue on. His cock was nestled in a thatch of snow-white hair.
“Like what you see?” Geralt whispered, cock jumping at your attention. You nodded eagerly, and Geralt gave you a bruising kiss. Geralt leaned down and suckled bruises into your neck, leading down to your sternum. His hot tongue laved wet streaks across your flushed skin, and you arched your back to entice him further.
Your Witcher complied, running his tongue across your hardened nipple before taking the bud in his mouth and sucking. You mewled loudly, fingers tucked into his white hair and pulling in desperation. The tight coil in your lower belly simmered deliciously, ready to snap at any moment.
Geralt ran his hands down your stomach, skimming your hips and thighs before running lightly along your labia, ignoring where you needed him most. His tongue rolled around your left nipple, and he popped off to give your neglected breast attention.
“F-Fuck Geralt, t-touch me!” You whined, eyes shut tight as you focused on every ministration he was giving you. He chuckled darkly, deep voice reverberating against your nipple.
“I am.”
“N-No…”
“No?” He leaned back up, fingers tracing your lower lips. His pupils were so big his golden irises were only a thin band.
“I need it, Geralt!”
“Where?” He mumbled, dragging his fingertips to brush lightly against your swollen and puffy clit.
“Here?” He raised a brow, pressing harder into the bundle of nerves that caused your hips to flex involuntarily.
“Y-Yes! I mean, no, yes!” You whined, head fuzzy.
Geralt ran his fingers lower, circling your opening.
“How about here?”
You arched your back further, pressing your nails into his biceps tightly. He didn’t care if your nails left a mark.
“Yes!” You cried, pressing your hips further into his hand. Geralt cupped your pussy, suddenly thrusting one of his thick fingers into your dripping opening. He immediately started with a sickenly sweet pace, rubbing and curling and thrusting in a way that made you see stars. Geralt pressed his free hand to your lower belly, holding you down.
He pressed his thumb against your clit drawing tight circles, thrusting a second finger into you and pumping it out. His fingers felt so good, like they were made for you. That coil inside you was going to burst, and Geralt seemed to know, because he sped up the pace. The dam inside you flooded when he leaned down and kissed you sweetly, seeming to convey a thousand emotions.
You pressed your forehead to his, nodding against him.
“Please, Geralt. Give it to me.”
Geralt guided his thick cock to your opening, slowly pushing his mushroomed head into you gently. It was a stretch, the burn bordering on painful. But Geralt was nothing if not gentle with you, and he cooed at you and pressed little kisses to your lips to distract you.
“That’s it. You can take me, can’t you?” He grumbled, sliding his hips closer to yours until his cock was sheathed fully inside of your cunt.
“Y-Yes!” You whined, overcome with such lust that you couldn’t help but undulate your hips, the heady drag of his cock rubbing deliciously against your spongy walls. Geralt threw his head back, teeth biting into his lips to stop from groaning. Your pussy clenched around his cock exquisitely, and it was all Geralt could do not to thrust into you like a beast. But he didn’t have to wait long, because you looked him in the eyes and bit your lip.
“M-Move Geralt.”
He nodded, biceps bulging as he raised your good leg around his hip, and then he was thrusting so hard into you black dots bordered your vision. You moaned loudly, nails scratching down his back as your eyes rolled into your head.
“Fuck,” Geralt grunted, reading back until just his tip remained, before thrusting back inside your sopping wet pussy. You could hear the squelching noises coming from your cunt, and while it should have been embarrassing, it just made you burn hotter. You felt the familiar coil of your orgasm reappear, and you leaned up to nip at Geralt’s throat and drag your hands over his back.
“G-Geralt! Fuck yesyesye —.”
You exploded in a thick cloud of passion, pussy tightening, and Geralt thrusted once, twice, thrice before he stilled and let out a growl low in his throat.
After a few seconds of him shallowly thrusting into you, pushing his thick ropes of cum back inside you, he pulled out. Geralt rested beside you, pulling you to curl you into his chest. You breathed deeply in the scent of him, resting your head on his pectoral. He rubbed over your shoulder.
“Sleep.”
And seconds later you were closing your eyes, the thick haze of sleepiness seeping into every fiber of your being.
After that fateful night, you and Geralt made it a habit to have sex in the whispers of the night. Months later, your relationship was great, until it wasn’t. It had to come crashing down eventually, and it did. In the form of a violet eyed sorceress.
You, Geralt and Jaskier had been playing a round of gwent in the Seven Cats’ tavern when she appeared. The lovely chatter of the tavern drunks stilled immediately, and you turned to see just who had caused this reaction. She was beautiful, like no one you had ever seen.
A long black dress flowed effortlessly on her skin, bodice tight and cut in such a way that pushed her breasts on display. Her hair matched the dark color of her dress, but her eyes — they were like amethyst’s, such a rich purple that they seemed to glow in the warm glow of the taverns.
Your eyes flickered to Geralt’s, and although you knew not to jump to conclusions, your mind couldn’t help but conjure up negativities. He clearly knew this beautiful woman, if the way his eyes were wide and his chapped lips parted was anything to go by.
The woman slowly — gracefully — walked towards your table, a gentle smile playing on her full lips. By Freya, she was gorgeous.
Jaskier took that moment to shout your name, bringing your attention to him. You furrowed your brows, and silently shook your head before shimming a little closer to Geralt. He shifted uncomfortably, and it was like that moment shot an arrow in your heart.
Geralt had never shied away from your affections after you had sex that first night, and now, when this strange woman appeared, it was like he couldn’t wait to leave your company. The thought was mildly sobering.
Perhaps she’s an ex. Geralt has had plenty of those.
“Yennefer…”
“Hello, Geralt,” her violet eyes lingered on him before sliding over to you. “Who might this be?”
You straightened your spine and smiled brightly at the woman, holding out your hand. You ignored the way she grimaced lightly as she took it, instead giving her your name.
“I’m his lover.”
Yennefer quirked a brow, lips pursed tight like she knew something you didn’t.
“Are you now?”
You nodded, and Geralt sighed. Jaskier guzzled his ale, looking between the three of you with an unreadable expression.
“Yen, what’re you doing here?”
Jaskier leaned closer to you, lips pressed to your ear.
“She’s a friend, sorceress too.”
Of course she is.
Geralt’s eyes slid to Jaskier for a second, before looking back at Yennefer.
“Hierarch Hemmelfart has requested my help with your contract.”
You looked in surprise at Geralt.
“What contract?”
Geralt simply pursed his lips at the sorceress, and Yennefer chuckled. She pulled up a chair from the next table over, delicately sitting down. Jaskier leaned closer into the table, scolding Geralt.
“You were just going to leave us here, weren’t you?”
“I… it was easier. This job will take at least a week.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, you stood up from the wooden table and shuffled your Nilfgaardian gwent cards, before grasping Jaskier’s shoulder.
“Come on, Jask. They clearly… have business to discuss.”
You have Geralt one long, meaningful look. Begging him to come for you, and not go on this excursion with Yennefer. But he didn’t stand up and come to you, and so you nodded before shuffling up the stairs with Jaskier.
“Is it selfish of me to not want him to go?” You mumbled, closing the door to yours and Geralt’s room, and flopping down on the bed. Jaskier sat gingerly beside you, a look of dismay on his otherwise charming face.
“No.”
You frowned, a bit unnerved by the bard's attitude. Jaskier was known for a lot of things, but being quiet was not one of them. Something was wrong.
“What is it?”
“Yennefer is… was… Geralt’s lover. We haven’t seen her in years, and… I honestly didn’t expect her to show up but I should have known. They’re destined to always find each other.”
You gulped, tongue as thick as cotton.
“Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you?”
Jaskier whipped his head up, eyes rimmed with tears. It made the venom on the tip of your tongue lessen.
“You have to believe me, I wanted to. But Geralt… Geralt is how he is, and he said he would tell you.”
“He didn’t.”
Jaskier nodded, and you sat in silence, thinking. Geralt had an ex, which was not uncommon, so why did this time feel different? You knew why, because this wasn’t like Geralt and Triss’s relearionship… what Jaskier said, that they’ll always find each other… it meant, to you, that they were destined for one another. Not only that, but said ex was currently here, and would be going on a week long excursion with your lover.
Fuck.
“Jaskier, you don’t think anything will happen, right?”
“I… we’ll just have to wait and see. But chin up my dear! Now we can have all the baths we want, while Geralt has to muck through mud and guts!”
You giggled, but in the back of your mind, you knew that once this week was over and they came back, everything would change.
The week had come and gone, with you and Jaskier staying at the Seven Cats’ inn and playing all the gwent you could.
When the morning sun gave way to the midnight sky, and the tavern patrons stumbled drunkenly out the door, you and Jaskier stayed up. Waiting. Waiting for the man you loved to come back to you.
And, thankfully, he did. It had to have been past one o’clock in the morn, when Geralt ambled into the warm building with blood and dirt and sweat ladened into his clothing.
You scrambled up from your chair, throwing your gwent cards down and flinging yourself across the mostly empty room, into the arms of Geralt. He grunted as you wrapped your arms around him tight, tight, tight. Breathing him in, you pressed your nose against the salty skin of his neck.
“I thought you wouldn’t come back,” you mumbled, the burn of tears lacing behind your eyes. A cough drew your attention, and you stood on your tiptoes to see behind Geralt. Yennefer stood, still like a statue as she stared at you. She looked worse for wear, too. You untangled your arms from Geralt, sheepishly smiling at the two.
“I’m sure you both could use a bath,” Yennefer rolled her eyes and barged past you, heading up the stairs. “Would you like help, Geralt?”
Your heart swelled with hope, but it shriveled into dust when he shook his head.
“Why don’t you finish your game?”
He didn’t wait for a response, giving you a tight smile before disappearing up the stairs, as well. You dropped your head, chest tight.
He just wants to be alone, that’s all. Stop being so selfish. Just focus on your game.
It was easier said than done, and as you bested Jaskier over and over you grew antsy. It had been at least thirty minutes since Geralt went to the room, and neither he nor Yennefer had come back.
Jaskier could see the way your face cinched up, eyes darting to the stairwell every few seconds. He placed his hand atop yours, a gentle smile on his lips.
“Go. I’ll be here, should you need me.”
You nodded, grateful, and scurried up the stairs. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you drew closer to where your room was. Stopping right outside the door, you held your breath. You could hear shuffling from the room, little gasps following.
Just open it.
Stealing yourself, you grasped the doorknob and swung it open. And you wished you hadn’t, because the sight you were met with was one you would never forget.
Geralt was on his back, big hands grasping the waist of Yennefer as she bounced on him, body barely covered by the fur blanket.
You gasped, stumbling backwards a bit. Yennefer halted her movements, throwing a look over her shoulder. Geralt slid her off him, sitting up and staring at you with widened eyes. Tears wanted to fall from your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them. You didn’t want to appear weak. Your breathing came out in unnatural puffs, and Geralt had the mind to look contrite.
“So I… I was the other woman? You… you’re still with her?”
Geralt opened his mouth, eyes darting from your face to Yennefer’s.
“I didn’t… I care about you, but Yen… Yen is…”
He couldn’t explain it, and truthfully you didn’t need him to. Seeing what they were doing made it more than clear. Geralt may care about you, but he would never love you, a mere human, like he could a sorceress. The villagers had been right, after all.
You sucked in a large breath, arms wrapping around your body. Keeping your eyes firmly on the ground, you walked into the room fully and started gathering your meager things.
“What’re you doing?” Geralt mumbled, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Yennefer placed a soothing hand on his back, but he shrugged her off. Her touch felt… wrong, all of a sudden.
“Gonna… g-gonna get anoth-another room.”
Your voice shook heavily, and when the last of your clothing was in your knapsack, you hightailed it to the door. Geralt didn’t stop you.
Trudging down the stairs, your weeping eyes found Jaskier almost instantly. He was as pale as a ghost, blue eyes glued to his tankard of alcohol.
“Jaskier…”
Your voice came out but a whisper, and your legs wobbled. The feelings you had tried hard to keep under wraps upstairs came flooding out, and a sob left your lips before you could stop it. Jaskier was immediately up and running to you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. His actions were all you longed for from Geralt.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he chanted, stroking your back. You stayed like that for a few minutes, before Jaskier hauled you up and into his room to sleep for the night.
“Tomorrow, we’ll discuss what has happened. For now, sleep,” he said, smiling down at you from his perch atop the bed. You nodded, eyelids feeling heavy. Vaguely, you could hear Jaskier and Geralt’s voice, but you were too tired to do anything.
Geralt awoke to incessant banging on his room door, and he groaned quietly before looking around. Yennefer was not in bed, a note in her place.
‘See you soon.’
- Y
Classic Yennefer, he thought.
The banging quickened, and Geralt sighed heavily before stomping to the door and opening it. He was met with Jaskier’s tear stained face, the bard breathing heavily.
Jaskier yelled your name, and last night came flooding back to Geralt. The contract, coming back to the inn, fucking Yennefer… and then… and then you walking in. Shame bridled hotly beneath Geralt’s skin, and he wanted to curse himself. He had told himself that the night before they headed back to the Seven Cats’ inn would be the last time he fucked Yennefer, and yet he did it again. Near you, no less!
Fuck.
Geralt grasped Jaskier’s shirt and flung him in the room, slamming the door before hunting down his gear and weapons.
“Do you know where she is?”
“I wouldn’t fucking be here if I did! Fuck Geralt, how — how could you do this? She loved you!”
Geralt deserved each harsh word, and yet as Jaskier kept spitting venom tipped curses at the Witcher, he couldn’t help but feel pain grip his heart. He truly had fucked up, he knew that.
“I know I fucked up, bard.”
Jaskier nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He stopped pacing around the room, instead gathering the little trinkets you had forgotten to grab last night. The little brooch of a wolf head you had gotten from one of the Temeria stalls, and the clean and crisp dagger Geralt had bought you from the smithy in town. Even if you didn’t want these things anymore, Jaskier took them for you.
“Maybe the innkeeper saw her?” Jaskier suggested.
“Hmm.”
And the two were off, shambling down the creaking stairs and into the main room of the tavern. The owner stood behind the bar, twirling his thick mustache in his fingers. Geralt strode over, slamming his fist down and garnering the attention of all the patrons. He ignored their sneering in favor of snarling at the owner, baring his teeth.
“Do you know where she is?”
The owner chuckled, a bead of sweat dripping into his brow.
“Who?”
A patron jeered, “Talkin’ ‘bout yer whore, Witcha? Think she’s at my house!”
Boisterous laughter filled the room, a cacophony so loud Geralt shuddered in discomfort. He whirled on the man, about ready to kill him. But he didn’t have to, because Jaskier was already throwing a punch at the homely man. Geralt smirked, pride rising. He turned back to the innkeeper and raised a brow.
“S-Said she was gonna hit the road she did! N-Not sure where she be headed, honest!”
Geralt could tell the man was speaking true, but that didn’t stop Geralt from grasping the sweat laced shirt of the owner and thrusting him closer.
Geralt whispered, “If I find out you’re lying…”
He didn’t have to say anything other than that, because the man quickly nodded and started spewing prayers for mercy. Geralt shoved the man away, and he and Jaskier strode out of the inn.
“Where are we going?” Jaskier heaved, shaking his hand out and grunting in pain.
“Shouldn’t have done that.”
“I wasn’t going to let them speak about her like that. Would you have?”
“…No.”
Jaskier nodded resolutely, and the two made their way to the stables on the outskirts of Novigrad. The stable man nodded in acknowledgment while Geralt slung himself up on the saddle, patting Roach’s side affectionately.
“We’ll travel the road east, see if we can’t find her in Oxenfurt.”
The road to the esteemed city was long, and tiring. It took two weeks before the trio reached the gates of Oxenfurt. Grand streets housed even grander buildings, with stalls dotting the roads. Geralt gave Roach to the stableman with a whicker from the horse, and he and Jaskier made their way into Oxenfurt. Loud smells, and even louder people enveloped Geralt’s senses.
“Where should we start?”
“Inn.”
Geralt and Jaskier walked the winding dirt paths at a hurried pace, but when they got to the inn in town, the keeper had no idea who you were. Stepping outside the lively inn, Geralt growled into the air.
“Fuck!” Geralt snarled, teeth bared in anger. He could faintly smell your scent, mingling with all of the others.
“I know she’s here.”
“How do you know that? Maybe she took off, could be halfway to Temeria by now!” Jaskier grumbled with a heavy heart. Truthfully, he knew why you wouldn’t want to be in Geralt’s company, but to just leave him without a goodbye? It hurt Jaskier more than he cared to admit.
“I can smell her scent.”
“Well, that’s not weird at all,” Jaskier snarked. Geralt minutely smiled, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Come on,” he said, walking towards the abundance of stalls that housed luxury items. Some held perfumes, incense, and others held fresh pastries. Geralt could see the appeal of living in Oxenfurt, but he much preferred the open road and Kaer Morhen.
They spent the next hour scouring the various marketplaces, inns, and alleys. And just when Geralt was going to give up, admit that he lost you, he smelt your scent stronger than ever. Jaskier bumped into him when Geralt suddenly stopped, and the bard huffed obnoxiously.
“Why’d you stop? Now my poor beautiful nose hurts! What’ll I tell the ladies? You’ve ruined my complex —!”
“Shut up.”
Jaskier quieted down, and Geralt slowly turned. He softly called your name, and Jaskier whirled around as well, heart stopping when he saw you standing there.
Geralt raked his eyes over your form, taking you in. You looked the same, but Geralt could see your eyes… they seemed more weary and desolate. Like you had lost your spirit.
“Geralt? Jaskier? What’re… you doing here?” You questioned, raising a shaking hand to your chest. Seeing Geralt so soon hurt, like your bandaged heart was being ripped open and stuffed with white hot salt that made it sting a thousand times worse.
Jaskier took a step towards you, and you smiled gently and nodded. He envelopes you with a bone crushing hug, kissing the side of your head.
“Never leave me like that again, or I’ll write such a scathing ballad about you!”
You laughed, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I’m sorry for leaving. I…”
Jaskier nodded and released you, and Geralt finally walked towards you and opened his arms. You sidestepped his hug, and sighed at him.
“Please leave, Geralt.”
Geralt looked struck with pain, face tight. His jaw clenched painfully, and he dropped his arms to his sides.
“I — forgive me. Come back to me, I… it was a mistake. I know I love you.”
You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.
“Jaskier told me, Geralt,” looking him in the eye, you continued. “As tragic as it is… you and Yennefer are meant to be. I can’t compare to that, and we… we both know it. You may love me, but I’ll never be the second woman again.”
Geralt could see how hard those words were for you to say, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest.
“No I —.”
“Just answer me this, will you?”
“Anything,” Geralt said. And he meant it.
“Did you… have relations with her any other time when you were with me?”
Geralt’s face screwed up in pain, but he nodded briskly. You sighed, shoulders slumping.
“When?”
“During Hierarch Hemmelfart’s contract.”
“I see,” you turned away from Geralt and Jaskier. “Goodbye, Geralt.”
Jaskier led you as you walked down the winding roads of Oxenfurt, and once again, Geralt didn’t follow you.
oh i would love to request one where the reader is the dragon queen (a bit like daenerys from game of thrones) and geralt is sent to kill her which he refuses in the end
(Requested on Wattpad)
pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!dragon!reader
word count ⁀➷ 3.2k
summary ⁀➷ You're a golden dragon and the king sent Geralt to kill you… (I’m shit at summaries i’m sorry-)
warnings ⁀➷ spoilers for s1 ep6, violence, (short) mention of blood/wound, mention of killing someone, fighting, kissing, angst (not much)
a/n ⁀➷ As always pls tell me if I missed a warning! And if anyone knows why my “read more” messes with my text (it doubles the first paragraph) i’d be thrilled to know how to fix that🫢
Jaskiers song
🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷
Geralt came out of the cave, throwing some monster head right in front of the man's feet. You felt the fear the old man had of the white haired Witcher.
Geralt looked at him with a stern look, a little confused but still as if he'd rip the man's head off if he'd do anything stupid.
„I believe those are mine." He said in a low voice.
When the Witcher came down the small hill to his horse, the man hurriedly let the bag fall to the ground and ran away.
„This woman just killed a man with her bare hands for trying to steal your horse!" Jaskier shouted to Geralt.
You couldn't just walk past the men on your way to the village, already sensing the fight.
It really wasn't as dramatic as the bard told though, the man chose his fate when he chose to be ignorant and thought of himself as something better. Stealing a man's belongings, was the lowest another could do. And you didn't really want to have a bloody scene, so a snapped neck was the… well, best option.
The bard behind you was still in shock as he propped his hands to his sides and looked at the Witcher. Said one turned around and studied you with an intense look.
You just looked him straight in the eyes, a small smile spreading across your lips at his next words.
„Maybe she'll make a better travel companion, then." he dryly answered the bard, tilting his head to the side.
He put the bags back on his horse and turned around to you and the bard, Jaskier.
„Who are you?" he asked. You felt the curiosity he tried to hide as he asked.
„That is something you don't have to know." you answered sounding polite yet your answer clearly wasn't. But something about it made the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia as you knew, want to know more about you.
Normally he would just turn around and continue whatever he was onto. Not this time, though.
You smiled at Geralt. „I guess you'd like that back.” You threw one of his viles at him that had fallen out of the bag earlier. He caught it with ease, looking you up and down in surprise. Maybe there was even more to you than he could guess.
„Good luck with whatever you're doing!" you shouted, already continuing your way to the village. Jaskier's gaze followed you, his eyebrow raised, shaking his head.
„What the..." he mumbled to himself. Geralt on the other hand was completely thrown off by the way you behaved.
„Wait!" he shouted after you, his deep voice echoing through the air. Jaskier turned his head to Geralt. What had got into him? He never did anything like that, ever.
The strong white wolf, feared Witcher and butcher of Blaviken, shouting after a girl? Out of desperation? You clearly left Geralt completely and utterly confused.
The large door of the tavern opened, and Geralt entered, followed by Jaskier. "I'd like a fresh ale, thank you." Jaskier smiled at Geralt.
The tavern was packed, and the waiters ran back and forth in hurry. Neither of them wanted to wait that long. "Hmm." Gerald grumbled, but made his way to the bar anyway to order two mugs of ale.
"What.." the Witcher muttered to himself as he saw you. He had barely managed to banish you from his mind since you had left. As if in a trance, he walked away from the bar. "Witcher!" the barman called after him, who had already put down the two jugs. But Geralt no longer heard him, no longer wanted to hear him.
He followed after you without paying attention to anything around him. If the fabric of your orange dress hadn't had all his attention, it would have been easy to follow your irresistible scent.
You had already noticed Geralt when he entered the tavern with Jaskier. You led him to the back of the tavern, and opened a door that led into a corridor. Which contained several rooms to store food and drink or other supplies. With a light smile, you noticed that Geralt was still following you. Good.
Geralt didn't even look around as he pushed the door open, and it closed behind him. The voices became quieter, and he concentrated on the sounds of your footsteps. It smelled like old wood... and you.
You opened one of the doors. Not a moment later, you felt his presence close behind you. His breath on your neck and the strong smell he carried.
"I don't know why I can't resist you." he whispered in your ear, and his hair brushed your shoulder. "But I'm done trying to fight it."
You leaned your neck to the side and felt his lips, spreading feather-light kisses. No one needed to know about this encounter, you both agreed on that. He didn't need to leave any evidence behind to remember it. His hands grabbed your hips and urged you further into the chamber.
"Show me." you whispered challengingly. If he no longer wanted to suppress it, you wouldn't stop him.
Not a moment later, his lips met yours. Although there was so much desire in both of you, the kiss was anything but. It was breathtaking. It was gentle, quite in contrast to your desire. It was a sweet kiss. And it was so much more fitting than a wild or hard kiss. It was full of feelings neither of you would admit to.
His hands pulled you to him and your hands intertwined behind his neck. Never before had a kiss felt like this. But even in this kiss, you had to gasp for air at some point.
Neither of you moved. Geralt's hands still held you pressed against him as he looked down at you.
Something on your neck shone gold that he hadn't noticed before. It reached to your shoulder and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. It almost reminded him of dragon skin.
You knew what his gaze lingered on. "It's a birthmark," you whispered. He looked into your eyes.
"It's almost the same colour as your eyes." you added with a smile. His lips parted and closed again. Your hands wandered along his hair, and you twirled a small strand between your fingers. Geralt's gaze followed your every move before he looked you in the eyes again.
"I have to go now.” You whispered, standing on your toes and pressing one last kiss to his lips.
Geralt didn't open his eyes as you released yourself from his grip. Only when he heard the sound of jugs scraping over wood did he look up. With three empty jugs, you left the chamber and your footsteps echoed.
But what he only noticed now, how he could have missed it he didn’t know himself, was the wound on your arm. It looked like it had already been treated, but you still had a cloth covering it.
Geralt had his back to the door. But he couldn't help himself and took a step out of the door to look after you. With light steps, almost as if given wings, you walked along the corridor. But before you left, you looked over your shoulder at Geralt. You looked into his eyes and smiled.
Then you turned around and disappeared through the wooden door.
Geralt looked down at the floor and exhaled heavily. "Fuck." he growled.
When he returned to the table, Jaskier wasn't alone anymore. An old man and two worrier-looking women sat with him. Geralt's gaze went back and forth between the three and Jaskier. The table was set with pies, beer and wine.
"Ah Geralt, we were wondering where you've been." Jaskier announced cheerfully.
Geralt gave him a glance and sat down.
"What do you want?" Geralt grumbled.
„A short while ago, a dragon landed across the border in King Niedamir's mountains." the old men started, „I know what you're thinking. Impossible, dragons are so rare. But it's true. Locals spotted it and went after it in search of treasure. Of course, they succeeded only in wounding the creature. And angering it so righteously that it swooped down from its lair and set half a hillside ablaze.
„Hm."
„Dead sheep everywhere." he continued his story.
„Now, the King is in a blind. He's set to marry the princess of his rival kingdom, Malleore, which means it's bad timing to have a murderous pest lurking about in the mountains."
„What does this have to do with me?" Geralt knew exactly what this had to do with him, but the old man mustn't know that just yet.
„The king sent me to ask you to kill the dragon, dear Witcher.”
„You've wasted your breath." Geralt said. „I'll tell you what l've already told the king myself. he looked up, directly into the old man's eyes. „I don't kill dragons.”
What Geralt didn't tell him was that the king didn't order any dragon to be killed, he wanted the dragon queen dead. Shaking his head in disapproval, the old man sighed. „It's nothing I could do myself.” he chuckled. Geralt did not even seem to grin.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Jaskier interjected into the conversation. „Did you say dragon?" Geralt looked at him from the side,
„What people call green dragons', like the one we have here I suppose, they're the most common. Red dragons, less so. Black dragons are the rarest.” he explained.
„Gold dragons are the rarest." the old men stated.
„Gold dragons are a myth. For a gold dragon to exist, it would... have to be the result of... an accidental, unique mutation. And in my experience, mutations, they're intentional." Geralt said with a wry nod, "But it doesn't matter. Mutant or myth, gold dragons met the same fate as anything too different to endure. They died out." His gaze had turned to the table.
„Hello, Grandfather." you lean on the old man's shoulders from behind with a small smile. At the sound of your voice, Geralt's head shot up. Your eyes met, once again, and it felt like a storm was set free inside of you.
„Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Thank you so much. It's been very nice. Thank you for the wine and the pies, but as the man said, we really can't get involved.” Jaskier said with panic in his voice.
„Geralt, shall we?" he tried to ask the Witcher next to him. But when Geralt answered, his gaze lingered on you.
„l'm in.”
„Mother of. Jaskier sighed.
„What happened here?" Jaskier asked in shock as the two passed a mountain, completely burned down on one side. It was once, full of green grass and most likely many sheep.
„Dragons avoid people." Geralt murmured. „It should have left when they attacked.”
When they had reached the cave the dragon was supposed to be in, Jaskier stopped. „Uhm Geralt…" he breathed heavily. The Witcher turned to the bard and tilted his head slightly. „Wait here." he just said.
Ready to draw his sword at any time, Geralt slowly walked to the entrance of the cave. It was quiet, almost too quiet.
When he saw the dragons, even the Witcher stared for a moment.
He had expected one of the black dragons, or at least a red one. Not a green one.
The dragon laid there, one wing protectively in front of an egg. Behind the green dragon stood a black one protectively, but this one was male.
So he could hardly be the dragon queen the king wanted to get rid of. He came closer, still cautious, listening for any sounds. But when Geralt heard footsteps that could not belong to Jaskier, he drew his sword.
"Get. Away. From. Her." Geralt took a step back. He looked almost startled, surprise visible on his face.
"Hello again, Witcher." you said coldly.
"What are you doing here." It was no question, more likely a request to leave and not put yourself in danger. "Touch her, and I'll kill you." you threatened the Witcher.
The black dragon growled dangerously as you approached Geralt.
Cassius, your guard. He grew up with you in the Royal Court, back when everything was still there, nothing destroyed. He was not much older than you, and acted more like a brother than a guard most of the time.
When you heard his snort, you did not turn to him. "You can go." you said, still looking Geralt in the eyes.
Another growl. "I can handle this. Go now." He understood, this was an order. The green dragon was still lying in the same place when Cassius swept his wings and flew out of the cave through an opening in the ceiling.
"You should go., Witcher." Geralt didn't respond, instead he asked quietly in a raspy voice, "What are you?"
"Don't act like you don't know." You replied, almost a little hurt at the thought of what he would think of you.
Geralt took a step towards the dragon. And no matter what he wanted, no matter if he wanted to harm her or not, you could only see black and white at that moment. In seconds, you had a knife to his throat and were standing in front of him again. "Touch her and Jaskier will have to follow suit."
At that moment, as if you had summoned him, the bard came to the entrance of the cave. "Geralt, what is happening here? I have just seen a dra-" but he fell silent the moment he saw the Witcher with you.
Neither of you paid any attention to the bard.
Geralt turned so neatly that he had his arm around your neck and his hand took the knife from your hand.
"What on earth are you two doing here?" Jaskier stood there as if he no longer understood the world.
"Please." Geralt said softly, but that exactly was his weak spot. You ducked and twisted out of his grip, quick and swift enough to outwit the Witcher and his reactions. Quickly, you had your knife back in your hand. But instead of raising it to his throat again, you placed it at the level of his hip. Geralt looked at you, there was both astonishment and sadness in his gaze.
"Guys..." Jaskier called out to you.
You knew that Geralt would defeat you. Unless you threw him off his guard. He tilted his head, his lips opened and closed, just like he did in the tavern. And your next move was connected exactly with this thought. Geralt was still standing in front of you, he had thrown his sword on the ground when your knife had touched his throat, and there it still laid. He had no weapons except himself, which only confirmed that your idea would make him harmless for a few seconds. At least, you hoped so.
His lips had just closed again, and you didn't know if he would stop fighting or just start now.
Before he could do anything, though, you stood on your tiptoes, your dagger still at his hip. Your free hand reached for his neck and pulled him close enough to you. Then you placed your lips on his. The kiss almost captivated you yourself, and you had to concentrate to continue your plan. Geralt made a grumbling noise, surprised and completely thrown off balance. Just like you wanted. With all your strength, you broke away from him, breathing out heavily. Your lips trembled, it had indeed been a dirty trick. You looked at him apologetically and bit your lip. In the same movement, you turned to the dragon. You took a deep breath. Held it for a brief moment and then blew a protective wall of fire between the two of you and the dragon.
Your breathing became heavy and you swallowed. The fire made the golden scales on your neck glow. As you slowly turned to face Geralt, you could make out Jaskier at the entrance. You looked cautiously back and forth between the two of them. They couldn't hurt you. Their gazes, however, could.
"You're the dragon queen. The golden one." Geralt finally said it.
"The dragon queen?!" Jaskier commented in a shrill tone and shook his head disbelievingly to the right and then to the left."Damn.."
"Yes." your voice was no louder than a whisper as you looked the Witcher straight in the eyes. "But why did the king-" Jaskier started in a confused expression, but you interrupted him at the rage that boiled up inside you at the thought of the king, "King Niedamir hasn't even seen a dragon himself. He knows nothing!"
You walked out of the cave and Geralt followed you.
"No dragon has ever done anything to him. His men started the treasure hunts, they started hurting them,” your anger rose with each word, “He is just scared that he will pay for the things his men did to us." you said, one hand on your almost healed wound. "We don't start fights. But killing baby dragons, for treasure and gold?" You shook your head and tilted it slightly. "I can't let that happen."
You pursed your lips and closed your eyes for a moment, "The sheep- were just a warning. I never had the intention to do more."
Geralt had looked down on the ground while you told them everything. When you'd finished, his gaze found yours, and he exhaled.
You held out a small pouch to them, "Uhm, this is a dragon's tooth. The king won't know it's an old one." Geralt gently took the pouch from your hand, which was trembling slightly.
"Ehm, if I may-"
"It's not mine, Jaskier." you lightheartedly grinned at him.
"I'll tell the king we killed the dragon, and he'll leave you alone." Your gaze went back to Geralt, you nodded with a thankful smile.
"Can I talk to you for a moment, Geralt?" you quietly asked.
"Ohhh, I see. l'I let you two alone. If anyone needs me I'll just.." Jaskier pointed at some rocks and turned around, walking away just far enough to let you have some privacy.
You wanted to say something about the kiss, but you decided against it. It wouldn't help either of you.
„Don't give up." your gaze became serious, and Geralt looked slightly thrown off. That seemed to happen around you more often than he liked. „She is out there. And you have to find her."
Carefully you took his hand and your fingers gently brushed over it.
„Please don't give up, Geralt. You and your child of surprise... are to safe us all."
Your gaze went to your linked hands. A sad smile on your lips as you let go of it. You exhaled. "Goodbye, Geralt of Rivia."
Geralt felt frozen in place. His back still in the direction you had gone. He didn't watch you go, he couldn't.
Jaskier's eyes widened as he looked past him.
„Geralt, you might want to see this." he almost whispered.
Geralt turned around. “What is-“ he grumbled but soon became silent at the sight.
The sight of a golden dragon flying away into the distance.
Geralt exhaled and looked after you until you were only a small point on the sky and then, gone.
The song about the charming girl, the one who was strong enough to fight and win against Geralt of Rivia, spread across the countries. Jaskier made sure it did.
The song about her sweet kiss.
༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.
Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day 🧡
Can you do an angst geralt imagine. Where maybe he’s mad at y/n and y/n gets tired of it and finally leaves geralt and jaskier in the middle of the night and in the morning they have to go searching for her ?
Geralt was practically shaking from anger. Fuck witchers not feeling emotions, the emotion he was currently feeling was overwhelmingly pissed off.
He told you to stay at camp. You swore you would. Then you promptly ignored him and ended up being thrown by a wyvern and now your ankle was shattered.
He felt something in his chest do the same, when he heard you scream. Almost cost him his own life, distracted him enough that the wyvern got in a few good hits before he was able to take it out.
You had tears running down your face, reaching out for Geralt as he wiped the blood from his face and knelt down. You met his eyes, still pitch black from the potions.
“I’m s-sorry, I just wanted t-to help,” you sobbed, clearly in pain.
And Geralt couldn’t do anything to stop it. He was so carefully, making sure you always slept between him and Jaskier to be extra protected, that you had enough water while walking the path and your own room at the inns. Anything he could do to keep you safe, keep you happy, because he… he…
No, he’d failed you. He scooped you up in his arms and cradled you close to his chest, walking back to camp. “What the fuck is the matter with you? I told you to stay.”
You whimpered, burying your face in his neck, and it made Geralt want to scream. He wasn’t good enough for you. He can’t protect you. “And now we have to go back to get you to a healer,” he snapped, the anger at himself and how useless he felt bubbling up. “This could have been avoided. What the fuck made you think—“
“I get it!” you sobbed, a hand clutching onto Geralt’s shoulder as camp came into view. “I’m stupid, I-I get it.”
Geralt was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even reply. He’s a fucking witcher, he can kill any monster on the Continent and any man who threatened you. He should have been the best thing to protect you, and he failed.
Jaskier looked up from his page of lyrics, looking confused at a still-potioned up Geralt and you crying in his arms striding into camp.
“What happened—“
“Need to go back to town. She needs a healer,” Geralt growled, and even Jaskier flinched at his tone. But he just began to pack up camp unquestioningly, loading everything back into the saddlebags and onto Roach.
Geralt walked beside them, keeping you close against his chest, too afraid to let you out of his arms. He was still thrumming with anger, a permanent glare etched on his face.
You didn’t dare say a word.
Geralt snapped at you a lot. He snapped at Jaskier a lot. He just snapped at people in general a lot. You tried not to take it personal, but sometimes it felt awfully personal. He was always yelling at you if you strayed too far from camp, or offered to help him on a contract. He was always mad at you, glowering over the campfire into the night. It made you wonder if it would just be better if you left. He clearly wanted you to.
He took you immediately to the healer, instructing Jaskier to get rooms at the same inn you stayed at previously. The kind woman set your ankle, wrapping it carefully and giving you some teas to speed healing. You thanked her, glancing over at Geralt and lowering your eyes at his glare.
You needed a crutch to walk; Geralt let out a frustrated grunt at your slow pace, hauling you back into his arms and taking you to the inn.
You hid your face in his shoulder, your eyes filling with tears. Now you couldn’t walk, how would they justify letting you join them in the path? No, you’d made your decision.
Geralt got you settled in your room, making sure you had water and food and were comfortable enough. You wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he understood— he was being a fucking asshole, but you didn’t get how scared he was, hearing you scream. Seeing you hurt.
He grunted a goodnight, then went back to his room. He’d apologize in the morning, after he got himself under control.
Only, he woke up to a frantic knocking at his door, dragging himself out of bed and mumbling about how a monster better literally be tearing people apart in the town square—
“She’s gone. Geralt, she’s gone.”
Geralt’s blood ran ice cold, suddenly very much awake.
Jaskier was speaking, but he wasn’t catching much of it. Shit, shit, shit. He’d pushed you too far, he shouldn’t been treated you so badly. He needed to fix this, he needed to make you understand how much he—
He loves you. How much he loves you.
“—and she wasn’t there so I asked the innkeeper and he didn’t know shit, as expected, I don’t know a single innkeeper who has ever held a useful fact in their brain—“
“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, a warning.
He nodded. “Right. Geralt, we need to find her.”
“Well, she only has one foot, she couldn’t have gone far,” Geralt answered, beginning to dress himself. He had no idea where you would even go— east, maybe? You liked the ocean.
Jaskier let out an exasperated huff. “I’m serious, she’s vulnerable and injured, and gods know— we need to find her, Geralt, I care about her too much and you’re too in love with her to lose her this way.”
Geralt froze halfway through buckling his armour, carefully keeping the surprise off this face. “Jask, I’m not—“
“Shut up, you know it, I know it, she doesn’t know it because she thinks you hate her with how you treat her. So, come on, let’s go find her so you can change that.”
Geralt swallowed, quickly finishing with donning his armour and grabbing his bags, exiting the room with Jaskier at his heels.
You didn’t get far, hobbling about 20 minutes outside the city in the direction of Cidaris. Geralt dismounted Roach and called out your name, though it was clear you trying to ignore him as you stubbornly kept limping away.
Geralt easily kept up you you, tugging at your waist carefully. “Would you just— for fucks sake, you’re so stubborn—“
“I’m stubborn?” you snapped, snatching your arm away from Geralt’s grasp. “You are the most hateful, rude, spiteful, stubborn man I have ever met.”
Geralt flinched, but knew that he deserved that. He was obviously acting in a way contradictory to what he was hoping to convey. He just— he just got so angry at himself and how he wasn’t good enough for you. At all the ways he failed you. He didn’t mean to make it seem like it was you he was angry at. He didn’t do this feelings shit—but he couldn’t lose you.
“I’m sorry.”
That seemed to shock you enough to pause, having never heard Geralt apologize for anything, ever.
“I’m sorry for making you feel like I ever hated you, or that I was mad at you,” he continued, glancing off into the forest. It was clearly painful for him to express himself with words, but you were too stunned to interrupt.
“I was mad, but not at you. I was mad at myself, for… for not keeping you safe. For not protecting you,” he said softly, looking down. This dangerous, strong witcher who could take down a striga with his bare hands, was laying himself out for you, as vulnerable as you’d ever seen him. He was placing his heart in your hand, and he just prayed you didn’t crush it.
You hesitant reached forward, taking his hand when he offered as you met his eyes. Those molten amber eyes that somehow became home. Leaning against him, you murmured, “Geralt, I—“
“I love you,” he whispered, like he didn’t even want the forest to hear, he just wanted you and only you to know that he had a weakness, one that could take him out at his knees and keep him down, and it was you.
You felt your eyes fill with tears, the last few months suddenly taking on a different light. Your stupid, stoic, stubborn witcher. “You have a strange way of showing it.”
He let out a dry laugh, leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. “I know. I just don’t —hmm— I don’t know how to—“
You cut him off with a kiss, sweet and tender. You’d seen the man struggle with words enough for one day. “I love you too, Geralt. You can make it up to me.”
At that, Geralt smiled, a real smile that reached his bright eyes and showed his canines. His shoulders dropped in relief, a weight off his chest he didn’t even know he was carrying. “I will.”
With that, he leaned down and swept you off your feet, your surprised squeals cutting through the silence of the forest as he began to carry you back to town. He grabbed Roach’s reigns as he went, passing them to you. It was extremely attractive, how easily he was able to carry you, effortlessly showing his strength as he held you against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his exposed sternum.
“Let’s get you back before Jaskier calls in a royal army.”
