#geraltxreader

[jessiexcorner]

‘Destiny is she.’

Kerack.

 Just a small town with not much going for it, though it was known for its alcohol and the pirates that used to raid the people there centuries ago. 'Not anymore.' Yennefer thought as she drank. After the red death, the once-powerful kingdom fell into shambles. At least they still had their beer going on for them.

"TOSS A COIN TO YOUR WITCHER!" Yennefer winced, hearing the familiar song buzzing in the back.

  "Ugh. If I have to hear that blasted song one more time, I'm going to kill myself." Yennefer turned to see the drunk bard who wrote it.

  "Jaskier?" He turned his head to look up to see the sorceress. He gasped.

  "You! Oh No! I've had enough of you! Y-you harlot witch!" Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

"What? Your girlfriend dumped or something? Also, I'm a sorceress, not a witch."

"No, you ruined my friendship with my only friend! Just cause you had problems in your relationship with him didn't mean you had to ruin mine!"

"We didn't have a relationship."

"It doesn't matter now! I don't need him; I have plenty of friends. And women who want me!" Yennefer turned to order another drink. She didn't want to deal with this right now. A few gulps later, a young girl with blonde hair walked straight toward them.

"Hey! I know you!"

"You do? Oh no. Did I sleep with you?" The girl ignored Jaskier and continued talking to Yennefer.

"You're Yennefer of Vengeberg, aren't you?" Yennefer sighed.

"Look, kid, I don't sell magic anymore. Find someone else."

"Actual, I have a proposition for you."

"Not interested."

"I think you will be-"

"Get lost, kid, before I put a curse on you."

"Weren't you the one looking for a way to conceive?" Yennefer froze. Yes, it's true; that is what she wanted a way to be able to have a child again. But it's not as if she announced it to the world.

"Who told you that?" The girl shrugged with a smug smile.

"Call her destiny." Yennefer scoffed.

"Destiny?" The young girl nodded.

"Everyone knows about her. There's a legend on her. They say that if you ever want to change all the bad that has been done to you; change the fate you've been given, then follow the river upstream to the cottage in the woods. There be a woman, full of grace and beauty, but be careful what is said to her for destiny is she."

"First of all," the drunk bard who had been listening in began, "that doesn't rhyme."

"It's not supposed-" the blonde tried to argue.

"Second of all, who's 'they'?"

"What? No- Look, that doesn't matter, I'm not even talking to you!"

"You know he has a point," Yennefer said.

"Huh?"

"Who is this 'they'?" She said with a cheeky smile. The blonde girl turned redder than the drunken bard and stomped in anger.

"You know what! I don't care! I did what She told me to do and delivered the message! I'm leaving!" She marched out of the bar.

"Say, did you catch her name? I think she fancies me." Jaskier mumbled. Yennefer took a deep breath and finished her drink. 'let's find out who this destiny person is.' She thought, heading out.

                                                       . . .

'Well, what do you know there is a house.' Yennefer thought. She noticed there was a protection spell around the house covering it like a thick fog. She walked towards the house, trying to create a pathway for herself. 'Damn,' This was harder than she thought it would be. 'Why would anyone need such a potent protection spell?' As she tried to move through, it became harder to breathe. Yennefer could feel a headache coming on, it felt as if something was pushing her to fall asleep. She falls and gets knocked out by the gas. Before she falls completely unconscious she notices the end of a flowy robe walking towards her.

Yennefer wakes up feeling as if she has the worst hangover of her life, she notices a blanket covering her and a bed. "What the fuck?" she mutters noticing her surroundings for the first time. A bedroom with a fireplace, cozy and warm but what stuck out the most was the fact she didn't remember how she got here. The door to the bedroom opens before Yennefer can investigate her surroundings more thoroughly.

"Ah, you're not dead. Good." a woman with (h/c) hair wearing a simple white flowy gown exclaims. Yennefer startled immediately turns defensive shooting a gust of magic toward the woman who waves it off as if it were nothing, almost as if, annoyed by Yennefer's reaction.

"Now, is this any way to repay hospitality Yennefer?" The woman says practically scolding Yennefer like a misbehaving child.

"You knocked me out!"

"No, you knocked yourself out." She sat next to the violet-eyed woman, raising her hand near her making Yennefer flinch from the unexpected movement. 

"Relax, I'm only helping your body get rid of the poison from the mist." She sighs moving away after she is done, Yennefer does feel a bit better, less like she had a massive hangover. The woman stands and walks near the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of her fingers, sitting down on a couch with a tea set on a table. "Well? come sit," She points at the other chair meant for Yennefer. Yennefer gets up and slowly walks to the woman sitting on the chair. "Cream?" She offers the raven-haired woman.

"..No," Yennefer declines not wanting any other foreign substances in her body.

"Suit yourself." The woman shrugs, pouring some cream for herself, and lifts her cup taking a sip.

"Why did you want me here?"

"Oh, did my little birdy not tell you?"

"No, well, yes but- that's not- look do you really have a way for me to conceive or are you playing games with me? Because i should warn you i am not in the mood." Yennefer huffs.

"Of course!" The (h/c) haired woman claps her hands making the tea set disappear, with a small vial and a contract replacing it. "This little bottle of magic can bring back anything that was lost. It'll fix you right up, grow back your uterus, and let you keep your good looks," She winks with a smile at Yennefer, who looks at the paper carefully.  

"And I’m guessing this contract I am supposed to sign ensures I do your bidding?" The stranger's grin widens.

"Clever girl. it is fair, after all, i am only asking very little in return for a high reward." Yennefer scoffed but then again she was desperate she wanted this, badly.

"And what would that small favor be?" She questions the woman. "Am i to find you someone and bring them to you?" she rolls her eyes sarcastically commenting.

"Well, yes, that is exactly what I want you to do."

"Right. Sounds simple enough."

"Hm, simple." she hums in agreement, "I just need you to bring me Geralt of Rivia."

...What? "No, no! Absolutely not! What could you possibly need him for?" Yennefer protests, making the other woman rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to eat him, or kill your lover boy,"

"He's not-"

"Come on Yen! All you have to do is bring one witcher here, and I'll give you the ability to conceive again, don't you want that choice back?" The woman circles Yennefer, "They took everything from you, yen. They took your right, your decision. Not only am i offering you your freedom, but i am also giving you an option that doesn't require sacrificing your beauty or power." She twirls a lock of Yennefer's hair around her fingers. "and all you have to do is bring me one measly man." Yennefer hesitates. This can't be real, this had to be a trick, but what could she do? the dragon plan didn't work, Geralt was an arse and she had nothing and no one left. "Tell you what, since you have so many issues with me," The woman picks up the vial and hands it to Yennefer. "You can try the potion of mine, and once it works, and it will believe me you will know if it does. You will bring me Geralt." Yennefer's face reads of worry. "Come on you, poor girl, what do you have to lose? You already tried everything. What, you're worried about your man? What do you think I will do to the witcher? Think I will kill him? He's more likely to end me before I can touch him." Yennefer lets the words of this woman influence her, but she couldn't understand what she wanted with Geralt.

"..Fine, deal, if this works...I'll bring you your witcher."

"Lovely!" The woman smiles waving her hand making a feather appear and floats into Yennefer's hand. Yennefer pauses, feeling the softness of the feather. 

"...Before I sign this, I want to know your name, your real name. I have a feeling it isn't 'destiny'" The woman chuckles once again walking behind Yennefer, placing her soft hands onto her shoulders.

"(Y/n), a pleasure to meet you, Yennefer."

[burntsecrets]

Beneath the Northern Lights

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader Word Count: 926 Prompt: @fluff-cember Day 5: northern lights Summary: Geralt takes you to a secluded spot to see the northern lights. Warnings: Mild language, romantic intimacy, mentions of Geralt’s past trauma A/N: I know days 4-8 are late, I thought I had queued them all up, but I guess I forgot. I went camping to take a break before I open my business. And it was so nice to detox, read, and go hiking with my doggo. 😊

The biting chill of the Skellige night cuts through the thick wool of your cloak as you follow Geralt up the winding trail. His silhouette is sharp against the pale shimmer of moonlight that filters through the scattered pines. Snow crunches softly beneath his boots, the faint sound mixing with Roach’s snuffling back at the campsite below.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, carrying on the still air like a secret meant only for you. His gloved hand brushes yours in passing, an unspoken reassurance as the incline steepens.

The stars above are breathtaking, scattered like shards of glass across a velvet sky. You’ve never seen them so clear, so vivid. Geralt glances back at you, his white hair catching the faint light, and offers a rare, almost playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Close your eyes,” he instructs softly, his tone gentle yet firm enough that you obey without hesitation.

The world narrows, your other senses sharpening in the absence of sight. You hear the faint rustle of leather as Geralt shifts beside you, his presence a steadying anchor against the vastness of the night. His hand, rough and calloused, slips into yours and guides you a few steps forward.

“Alright,” he says finally, his voice softer now, a rare trace of wonder woven through it. “Open them.”

Your breath catches. The sky above is alive. Waves of green and purple ripple across the heavens, like ethereal banners unfurling in a silent symphony. Streaks of pink and blue race between them, illuminating the snowy peaks of Skellige in surreal, otherworldly hues. The aurora dances, untamed and wild, a fitting reflection of the man standing beside you.

Geralt watches you, not the lights. His golden eyes glow faintly in the reflected brilliance, softer somehow, the hard edges of his usual stoicism momentarily softened.

“You’ve seen this before,” you say, barely above a whisper. It’s not a question.

He nods, gaze drifting upward at last. “A few times. Usually when I was hunting in the far north.” He pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, “Never stopped long enough to look, though. Until now.”

The words hang between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You don’t press him to explain. He doesn’t need to say it—that this is a rarity, a moment plucked from a life otherwise consumed by contracts, monsters, and blood.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, leaning into his side. His arm slips around your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the thick fabric of his cloak, hear the faint sigh that escapes him as he relaxes against you.

“It is,” he says after a moment, his voice low, almost reverent. But when you glance up, his gaze isn’t on the sky—it’s on you.

A quiet descends between you, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through the pines. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting the warmth of his body seep into you as the northern lights continue their dance above. For a while, the world feels impossibly vast and yet impossibly small, narrowed to just the two of you and the ethereal glow of the sky.

“Peace is... rare,” Geralt says suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is contemplative, almost wistful. “Moments like this—they’re worth more than gold. More than any contract.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, surprised by the quiet vulnerability in his expression. His gaze remains fixed on the horizon, the faintest crease between his brows as though he’s weighing each word carefully.

“When I was younger,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I didn’t understand what Vesemir meant when he talked about needing something beyond the Path. Thought it was nonsense. Distraction.”

“And now?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He exhales, a sound caught between a sigh and a laugh. “Now I know better.” His gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the intensity of his golden eyes makes it hard to breathe. “You’ve shown me that.”

The confession hangs in the air, raw and unguarded in a way that makes your chest ache. You reach up, cupping his face with a gloved hand, and he leans into the touch instinctively, his eyes slipping closed. The tension in his shoulders melts, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“You deserve peace, Geralt,” you say firmly, though your voice trembles slightly under the weight of the moment. “You deserve this.”

He doesn’t answer, but his hand tightens on your waist, his thumb tracing idle patterns against your side. The gesture speaks volumes, even if he doesn’t.

The northern lights ripple overhead, vibrant and unyielding. You tilt your head up to kiss him, slow and soft, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours despite the cold. He kisses you back with a quiet intensity, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. There’s no urgency, no rush—just the two of you, grounding each other in the stillness of the moment.

When you finally pull away, the aurora is beginning to fade, the colors softening into the inky black of night. Geralt watches it with a faint, wistful smile before turning his attention back to you.

“Thank you,” he says simply, the words carrying a depth that makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t need to elaborate. You understand.

Together, you linger a little longer, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the stars reclaim the sky. Tomorrow, the Path will call again, but tonight is yours.

[astronaut-moose]

The House pt. 9 Teeth And Blood

A/N: Insert reader written. Based off of a recent dream. originally written on wattpad. One of the first fics i’ve ever written so feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Summary: This house was built in 1956. Built out of so much love that it actually developed its own soul. When the house lost its owners, it wept for them. Since then it has traveled through time helping others find that same love, or just peace in some cases. It's made stops in 1268, 1899, 1919, and then traveling through years. The occasional stop back in time, or even forward. Y/N made herself In a small town, with no real family. Only one real friend, Teton. A Friesian, the only thing she had ever owned or loved. Working at a small bar in town, she was suddenly invited to dinner by a stranger. She couldn't go because of a promise she had to uphold. Everything seemed normal while out on her favorite trail. Until she came across a house... one that wasn't ever there before. Suddenly becoming wrapped up in a world where magic, monsters, and soulmates exist. The House knows everything, every secret, every purpose, and every single Fate

Warnings: 18+. gore, adult content, attempted assault, Gore

Part 1 Part 8 

3.3K Words

Geralt could smell you. He could smell the thick panic, coming quickly towards him, a half mile away. Pressing Roachs rein into the side of her neck he took off in your direction. His senses were tuned into you, your panic, your fear. Roachs hooves thundered against the mud and twigs, trees flying by as his heels softly hit her sides urging her to push herself faster. The smell wasn't getting closer anymore, it had stopped moving entirely. The panic that rose in Geralts heart wasn't anything he'd felt before. The Warg has her. He reached to his belt and popped the cork on the elixir, throwing it back like a shot of whiskey, and tossing the bottle into the passing trees. Within seconds he could feel the effects, he could hear your frantic screaming. "Get the fuck back! Teton!" He could smell blood, unknowing whos it was, he could smell a sweat slick horse, and Jake. Why the fuck is he out here!? Eyes captured every single detail that flew past him, in-between the upcoming trees he saw the deranged scene.

The beautiful black horse was rearing, sweat shined muscles coiled, kicking and landing bites. The massive white warg tried to get passed him in every way possible. Tetons enormous body just barely holding him to the edge of where you sat cradling a limp man in your arms. Back against a wide tree, blood pooling down your thigh and to the ground. The warg snarled and lunged at Teton, to which the horse retaliated with a solid hoof into the side of its ribs. Whimpering the Warg turned away, and Teton angled his long body for another blow. But the wolf whirled around, barely missing the life-ending kick, and lunged toward you. Claws outstretched making contact with your shoulder, tearing through your flesh in four bloody jagged lines. Geralt flung himself off of roach, slapping her hind, and drew his silver blade. The Warg paid him no mind as it snarled, saliva dripping off of fangs inches from your face. Geralt could smell the decay on its breath from where he stood.

  Before Geralt reached the wolf, Teton lept Infront of him. Ears pinned back and muscles taught as he struck the wolf with his teeth. The warg yelped and tried to spin around but Teton held onto a sizeable chunk of its hackles. Tugging from side to side as blood seeped between his teeth. Ripping the warg away from you. The sounds coming from Teton were horrifying, screeching and grunting, nostrils flaring and the thundering of hooves that vibrated through the earth. Releasing the Warg Teton reared, planting a giant hoof into its hips. Geralt had no time to react as the wolf twisted around and sunk its claws into the side of his neck. "Teton!" The scream that came from your throat was raw. Geralt ran forward, silver sword making contact with its outstretch leg. Blood smeared through its white fur as the Warg fully turned its attention to Geralt. It lept at him with teeth nashing as they tried to make contact. He swung his sword again, a solid sound resonating as it hit its spine. The wolf twisted around and bit into Geralts wielding arm, he dopped his weapon.

  "Fuck!" He grabbed onto the lower half of the wrong-wolfs jaw, forcing it down until an audible crack forced its release. It didn't stop. Instead it lunged itself back at Geralt, claws trying to rip their way into his armor. Its lower jaw dangling from the joint as mangled growls carried on it's fowl breath. Geralt managed to grab the wargs elbows and hurl it off of him.

  "Igni! Geralt! Igni!" Geralts memory harshly jogged itself as he quickly brought his hands together while the Warg was revaluating its next move. The smell of burned hair hurt his nostrils, the Warg cowered away as its strawberry tinged fur singed into its back, turning it into an ungodly looking creature. Smoke rose from its blistering body.  Geralt hastily retrieved his sword, wielded it above his head, and delt the final blow to the cowering dog.

  "Geralt! He's dying!" Quickly he met your side. He realized there was a significant difference between your blood and Jakes, yours smelled of burnt honey. Jakes smelt copper, normal, and it was everywhere. Seeping into the fabric of your leggings and mixing into mud with the dirt. Geralt could hear the slowing of his heartbeat, his eyes had seemed to already fog over. Jake had no hope. Sure he was absolute human garbage, but that didn't mean he deserved to bleed out like this.

 "(Y/N)," he said softly. "Let him go." The look of understanding flooded your pale face. He watched as you gently slid Jake from your lap, a blood soaked hand behind his neck the other softly pushing his chest. 

"No one deserves to die like this." Geralt watched as a single tear fell from the tip of your nose. 

"I know." Geralt helped you to your feet and pulled you against his chest. The smell of burnt honey and vanilla calmed his high-alert senses. He assessed your arm, and caught your eyes. Heart stopping as he grasped what you were looking at. His eyes were still completely black, no iris, no pupil, no hint of sclera. Veins wove their way around his sockets, dark gray in color. Geralt whipped his head away from you. Fuck. For the first time anxiety sat in Geralts chest. She'll never look at me the same. But he couldn't smell fear. A small hand came to his cheek, pulling his face back to meet yours, and you pushed your lips against his. Geralt let his emotions bleed into this kiss, I was so afraid I lost you, he pushed back into your soft mouth even harder. Pulling away for half a second just to plant another upon them.

 Before things could escalate you pulled away, eyes never leaving his as you said, "What do we do about Jake?"

"He's gone," the soft fluttering that was Jakes heart, stopped.

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

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Teton came to you. Lowering his head and pushing it into your chest, he held there, and you wrapped your arms around his cheeks. Kissing his forehead as you began sobbing, "Oh gods, my boy, my sweet strong boy." More kisses, "You've done such a wonderful job... Oh son, I'm so so sorry." Wet tears soaked into his mane. The punctures on his shoulder were shallow, but the blood matted fur ran down to his hock. "I love you so much, we'll get you home." Geralt already sat atop Roach, hand reaching down for you, his right leg hovering on her withers. Never letting go of Tetons reins, you put your foot into the unoccupied stirrup and pulled yourself up behind Geralt. "Agh!" The flesh torn arm seared in pain with the strain of its muscles. Settling behind Geralt you let your head fall forward into his back, ruined arm limp, and the other leading Teton aside. Blood ran down your shoulder, forearm, and dripped from your fingertips. A strong breeze made you shudder, the wet from your blood and Jake's made the cold air more intense. As he urged Roach forward the trees began to spin. Well that's not right.

 "Talk to me," his words vibrated into your chest. 

"That was a lot," was all that you could think to say. Huddling yourself into his back, scooting yourself as close as you could to his warmth, chills ripping through you.

 "It was, keep talking." 

"Why were your eyes black?" His body tensed. 

"There's a lot you don't know yet..." How am I supposed to talk if that's the conversation your gonna give me?

"Like what?" 

"I'm mutant."

"Like a minotaur? or what." Vague term. You were fighting the bile that threatened to rise into your throat, the ever so chill air that seeped into you, fighting for balance atop roach's bouncy rump. Having to fight for a conversation irritated you.

 "I was made, kind of."

"How?"

"I was put through trials, and pumped full of toxic liquid."

"Technically we should all be mutants, elaborate." The pain in your arm had faded, the chill in your bones, gone. A feeling of lightness had entered your body and it took everything you had left to continue to focus.

 "I was exposed to a multitude of different mutagens. Mutagens that would normally kill other people. I wasn't the only one. We were kids when the experiments began." He paused.

"And then?"

"When the mutagens were fully integrated into our systems they would put us through trials. Tests to see how far our capabilities were expanded."

"What capabilities?"

"Our senses, our strength, our magic." He paused again until you offered a grumble. 

"Then we were put through trials... most of us didn't make it. But I prevailed every time, so I was tested even more."

"Why?"

"They wanted to see how far they could push me. How great they could make me become."

"I do think your rather extraordinary, Geralt," your voice was barely a whisper. 

"It wasn't something to be proud of. The mutagens burned, the pain was unbearable and it never stopped. the trials mutated me further. Made me into a monster." Trying to tighten your limp arm around him you hissed. "I'm fine, don't exert. keep talking."

"Is that why your eyes are yellow?"

"Yes, and my hair white. And why I'm... Infertile." The word barely registered in your head. Jake said... he said... Jake said... something about that. You were losing your battles, the trees turned into a Whirlpool in your vision, hot acidity rushed up your throat. Leaning over you vomited, tossing out the three raspberries you had earlier. Way earlier, the sun was almost gone now. The forest was dark and plummeting. Geralts free arm shot around you, pushing you back onto roachs back. Tetons reins slid through the dirt as you had dropped them. He still slugged beside you. "Just a few more steps, stay with me." A sharp yellow light lit through the oncoming trees, the barn. Home. Your vision was almost completely black as the sharp clacks from hooves hit concrete.

 "Sarah!" Geralt bellowed. "Sara-!" 

"I'm here! I'm H- Oh fuck sake! (Y/N)!" All you could hear were their voices. Then nothing at all.

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

"She's fine Geralt, she lost a lot of blood. The bleeding is stopped, we just have to make sure she stays hydrated-" Sarahs voice sounded like it was underwater. "Stay in here with her if you want," cough, "Or take a shower, damn."

"hmh."

"I mean it. she's okay. We just need to wait for her to wake up so I can give her this and get her to eat something." You could hear a door click shut, and then your stomach groaned out a whale-song.

"Oh gods im starving," your voice barely croaked out.

 "There you are! Welcome back!" Eyelids felt like weights as you tried to lift them, the sun coming through the window of your bedroom made you wince. "Geralt's in the shower, i'll go get you some food. Stay right here." She left your side of the bed and closed the door behind her. Stay right here? Gods woman I can barely move. The world spun quickly as you tried to focus on your bandaged arm. Teton. Sarah came back with a bed tray.

"Teton? How's Teton? Is he okay?" barely giving her time to set the tray beside you, your hand grabbed her wrist in panic, "What happened? He made it home right?"

"Hey hey, he's alright." She shushed you. "He's practically healed now, just a few scabs."

"Already-?"

"You've been out cold for an entire day and a half, (Y/N)." She handed you a glass of green liquid. "You lost too much blood, so I need you to drink this. Quickly."

"What is it?" The dark green liquid looked awful, smelled awful too. 

"It'll help replenish electrolytes and keep you hydrated, help with the pain too." She all but plugged your nose for you as you tried to chug it down. "I rinsed Teton down and I've been applying my salve every five hours. He's just fine."

"Thank you Sarah... I'm sorry I flew off like that, when I did."

"You were right, though." She put your empty glass back down. "As soon as you left wolves started stalking the cabin, Ian and I tried to stay away from the windows, but it was like they could smell us." 

"Really?"

"Yup. One of them even got brave enough to try the windows. But they all bolted away after an hour or so."

"Wolves usually fight with Wargs, they treat them like alphas. I bet they left when Geralt killed him."

"Jakes' room is gone. Geralt told me what happened. He even admitted you were right too. But neither of you would've been fast enough." Placing the tray across your lap the smell of roasted chicken made your mouth water. Quickly you picked up your warm sandwich and took several large mouthfuls. "You should hear Geralt boast about Teton though," She giggled," He was so embarrassed and thoroughly impressed that a horse had done most of his fighting."

You smiled with your mouthful. Swallowing your bite," Im proud too, I didn't think he would do anything like that in a million years. I thought as soon as he saw that thing i'd be dumped on my ass. But he started pawing the ground, gettin' real mad. It was definitely something." Your chest swirled with pride. 

"i'm just glad you’re all okay," She kissed your cheek, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel okay," A yawn escaped your lips before you could take another bite. "Is it okay to still feel so tired?" 

"Absolutely," She patted your shoulder," I don't want you out of this bed until tomorrow morning."

"What time is it now?"

"12."

"Oh good hell Sarah i'll rot in here!"

"You'll be waited on hand and foot! The only time i'll allow you to get up is to use the bathroom or shower. And even then I want you accompanied."

"Are you gonna rinse me down?"

"Hah! no! but I know someone who would be open to the idea," She smiled a dirty smile and gave you a wink. Instantly your cheeks turned red hot, causing you to feel light headed again. "Careful there, I forbid any promiscuous activity until your 100% better." 

"yes ma'am." Finally with your eyes adjusted to the light you looked out the window. Snow, about four feet thick covering the deck. A different mountain scape lined the horizon, dense woods just on the outside. "Where are we?"

"Germany." 

"What?"

"We're somewhere just outside Rothenburg Germany. Ians having trouble pinning our exact location with so much snow." Your eyes ate up the picture from your window, mind trying to grasp what time it was, what month you were in.

"How long are we staying? I want to go see everything."

"I'm not sure. We were in Quebec Canada yesterday, and this morning we're here in Germany. We could only be here for day," She bumped her shoulders. "Who knows. But the house will come back if you ask. STAY IN BED (Y/N)." Her voice rose with her command. 

"UUUGH, okay mom." She threw a daggered glare at you and you laughed. "How do I work this thing?" You asked lifting your good arm to point at the tv. 

"With this you dingbat." She handed you the controller. A light nock came from your door, both of you snapping your heads up as Geralt poked through. 

"can I come in?"

"I'll leave you guys," She planted another kiss to the side of your hair and got up to leave. "Best behavior Geralt." The door clicked behind her. 

"How are you?" He asked as you took another bite of your sandwich, finishing the last of it. 

"I'm okay, still tired." You started in on a pickle. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't get hurt." He awkwardly stood in-between your bed and the door. 

"Come here," You patted the unoccupied side of your bed," Want a pickle?" He let out a low chuckle as he sat on that side of the bed, still looking awkward. Putting your half eaten pickle on the plate and moved the tray from your lap to the bottom of the bed. "Geralt," his topaz eyes looked up to you," Come. here." You made an awful attempt at raising your bum arm along with the other as you beckoned him into them. Suddenly this massive gargoyle of a man enveloped you in his arms, placing his head to your abdomen and wrapping his thick biceps around your thighs. You let your hands fall into his hair. 

"What you did..." He started. 

"I know, i'm sorry, I thought you'd get hurt." He leaned up on his elbow coming eye level with you. 

"Don't you ever worry about me dammit!" The sudden loudness of him made you cower back. "I've been doing this too long for anything bad to happen to me." His voice hadn't lowered, and he didn't break eye contact, Even as you shirked away from him. "Neither of us would've gotten to him in time anyway. Why would you even go in after him?"

"I-I wasn't. I-I didn't..." You struggled to regain your voice. "I went after you! To tell you how close they were to the house! a-and then I heard him crying, and I heard snarling, and then... you were there." His eyes softened as he realized the look on your face. 

"You scared me."

"Well I was scared too, but not for you. I knew you might get hurt but I knew you'd be smart enough to handle it." You looked away from him, he lifted himself to sit against your headboard matching you. 

"How did you know," He rolled his head to the side. "how did you know about signi?"

"I read it, in that book. In the hideaway." You pointed towards the corner of your room. The mattress creaked as he got up, fetching the book. He stood there and flipped through the pages, you could see the faint ink that lined them. "The myths and legends and the monsters behind them, or something, yeah." He kept fingering through the pages until he met the back cover. 

"It's blank (Y/N)." He looked up at you, all serious and pissy. 

"What? No it's not." You outstretched your hand for it and he walked over to you. Placing the book in your hand, where you read clear as day the title. Flipping through the pages where you could also read the chapter titles and pages littered with drawings. "It's all right here." You handed the book back to him. He opened just the cover.

"'Not for your eyes, Geralt. Pearl.'." He chuckled," I think we've found your purpose." 

"B-But I thought you knew all of this?" Your eyes bugged at him.

"There's a lot to remember. Maybe your supposed to come with me?" He looked up at you, taking in the look of shock on your face. 

"I-I am good with a bow, I guess." His face twisted. 

"I'll be damned if you ever fight any creature." Confusion hit your heart, almost hurt. "I couldn't bear it if something like this happened again." The softness of his tone was enough to tell you to drop the conversation for now. 

"Please come here," You yawned, eyelids feeling heavy again. "Please sleep with me." He didn't make you beg, just placed the book back onto a shelf and slid his way across the bed to you. This time in the sheets. The warmth from his body instantly seeped into your bones. You snuggled into the barrel of his chest, trying not to bump your arm too much, and all but fell asleep. 

"Are you okay?" You peaked up at him through your lashes. 

"mmhmm."

"Your heartbeat is slowing."

"I'm falling asleep." And you then you did, nestled into his firm side.

part 10

[dreamingofmilk]

Do You Remember?

Synopsis: You and Gerald reminisce about conceiving your first child 

Word count - 2,341

Warnings: smut, cursing, aggressive sex

Enjoy you guys!!

You jerked up out of bed and waddled to the bathroom as quickly as you could. Damn morning sickness always came at the worst times. The sour taste at the back of your throat only made you move that much faster.

Geralt woke up as soon as you got up and followed you. He rushed to grab your hair and rub your back while you retched into the toilet.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly while he pulled your hair into a ponytail.

"Are you alright?" You mocked. "Splendid, just casually puking my guts out for the fifth time today. It's a wonder there's anything left in my stomach."

"Hmm." Geralt didn't even bother hiding his smile. You were pregnant with his child and he couldn't be happier. Finally he can right the wrongs of his parents and raise a child with the woman he loved. He couldn't shake the thought of a little girl with white hair and your eyes who'd call him Papa and play with Roach.

You could feel how smug he was, and it just pissed you off more. Three months you'd been carrying this child and it's already taken a toll on you. You were constantly sick and you were showing far more than a typical woman would at this stage. Fuck Geralt and his big ass baby genes. You had no idea how you were going to make it through 6 more months of this. The baby might kick and rupture an organ. Damn Witcher.

You got back on your feet and went to rinse your mouth. You could feel Geralt rubbing your stomach the entire time. He was pretty much always touching your stomach nowadays. Equal parts love and fascination on his face as he studied all the ways your belly has changed to make room for his baby. It was a side of him you hadn't seen until recently. Geralt always seemed aloof, unbothered by everything and everyone. 

After you cleaned yourself up, he helped you back to the bed and spooned you. This was one of the only positions you could handle without getting sick. 

You shuffled around to find a comfortable spot and once you found it you groaned with relief. Finally you could get some sleep. Geralt couldn't hold back a small chuckle at your dramatics. 

"You sound very comfortable." You could feel the vibration of his chest against your back, the small breeze of his breath on the back of your neck. It was honestly one of the most comforting things you've ever known. 

You turned just enough for him to see you raise your middle finger, but your eyes remained closed. "Fuck you, Witcher."

That only made him laugh harder. "Hmm. That's what got us here in the first place." Cocky bastard is really enjoying this. "Do you remember the day we made this child?" He asked with his face buried in your hair. 

Of course, you remembered. Consequences aside, it was some of the best damn sex you've ever had in your life, by a longshot. You clenched your thighs together to try to ease the heat you felt rush to your core. 

"Fuck, you do remember. I can smell you" Geralt started running his huge hands down your body starting at your chest, pausing at your belly, then down to where you wanted him the most. "You were so damn hot for me that day. Couldn't even wait to get home."

He was right. You thought back to that day and remembered that you had been horny pretty much the whole day. Geralt had hunted a particularly nasty monster. He definitely got his ass kicked. That thing really threw him around, but he eventually got the upper hand and cut its heart right out of its chest. Then he grabbed it and crushed it with his bare hands to make sure it couldn't revive itself. Maybe you were a little messed up but something about watching him squeeze the organ until it gave out was sexy as fuck. Blood spattered over his face and all the way up to his arm. He looked like a savage, and you could’ve really used some savage dick at that moment. 

You and Geralt had been messing around casually a bit at the time, actually, it was pretty much a daily thing at that point. There was never a time he wasn’t inside of you when you two were alone, and... sometimes not alone. You both were addicted to the crazy, rough, animalistic fucking that you could only get from each other. It honestly was a surprise he ever had time to hunt any monsters. The two of you were insatiable.

After watching his ruthless display of strength you were ready to fuck. He could worry about the rest of the mission later, he had more important things to take care of right now. He caught your eye and smirked once he realized your current state. 

"You really are fucked up Y/N. What woman gets turned on by death and gore?" His chuckle shot straight through you.

You shrugged and walked close enough to run your hands down his chest, making sure to touch all of your favorite parts. "I'm no average woman, Geralt." 

He scoffed, "You're a crazy one though."

You smiled brightly. You couldn't even argue that. You leaned even closer and whispered in his ear, after licking a bit of his blood off his cheek. "A crazy bitch with crazy good pussy."

He groaned, "Fucking right."

Nothing else needed to be said. In seconds your clothes were ripped and you were on your hands and knees. Your back formed that perfect arch and his huge dick was pounding into you. You two didn't need much foreplay, watching him kill the beast with the great display of strength was more than enough. He drove you crazy, hell his dick drove you crazy. It was like he was actually trying to destroy your pussy. And although his strokes were rough, you sucked it up and took it like a champ. 

"Fuck, you feel so good. That’s it Y/N. Take it." He grunted right in your ear. "Always so fucking tight!"

He grabbed the back of your neck and pushed it to the ground, his body towering over yours. You could feel the mud on your cheeks but you didn't give a damn. Geralt leaned over your body and clamped his teeth into your throat and bit just hard enough to break skin. You scream and clenched around him. 

"Shit! Geralt! Fuck, I can’t-"

His teeth released your neck, but he just replaced it with his hands, pushing your face further into the mud. "Shut up and take it! You always take me so fucking well." His thrust was harsh and pleasurable. 

You couldn't do anything but clench around him. Your body became so weak as your orgasm approached. You tried to pull his hand from the back of your neck but his grip only tightened. You hiss in response, your body humming in pleasure. After a moment, he grew tired of your hands trying to move his, so he grabbed both of your wrists in his hands and yanked them backward. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He groaned out. 

The new position allowed him to use your hands like handlebars and his thrust only felt as if they were hitting deeper and deeper! It was honestly too much, even a bad bitch has their limits. You tried to inch forward a bit to relieve the pressure on your g spot, but Geralt had other ideas. He let go of your hands and wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers circling your clit. The pleasure became too much. His thrust was much rougher, the extra amount of force pushed you to the ground again. Geralt’s fingers remained on your clit, his other hand regained its position on the back of your neck holding you down. His thumb made its way between your lips for you to suck. 

Geralt smiled at you in the new position. 

“Seems like the bad bitch can’t handle it. Are those tears I see.” Geralt mocked you, the wetness between your legs causing loud lewd sounds in the air. You wiggles your hips in an attempt to remove some of the pressure off your clit. “I told you to stop fucking moving.

He grunted, "Seems like you can't follow basic fucking instructions so I've got something for you." He pulled you up by your hair so you were kneeling and started pounding into you again. He wrapped both of his arms around your torso and bounced you up and down like a rag doll. It felt like he grew even bigger in this position and you couldn't handle it. 

You started screaming. Loud. Obscene curse words mixed with gibberish Poured from your lips. To bystanders, it might have sounded like you were being attacked. But you knew the truth. Your pussy clamped down so hard he almost had trouble pulling his dick out. His strokes faltering from your wet hot tightness. 

You squirted. Continuously. All over the place. Your body shaking wildly, and this crazy deranged fucking beast didnt miss a beat. He kept the same pace and hummed. Fucking hummed. You couldn't stop cumming and your stomach was starting to cramp from the onslaught but you couldn't escape his hold. Your body was jerking and twisting, trying to get away from the man who was making you crazy. Stars exploded across your vision. You couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing through your head. All you could do was cum and cum and cum. 

After what felt like a lifetime of constant orgasms his thrusts became sloppy, and you could feel his dick twitching inside you. Usually he cums on your chest or your face since he loved to see you painted in his cum. His words, not yours. You prepared yourself for him to pull out and douse you.

"Fuck, gonna cum. Gonna cum so fucking hard Y/N."

You wrestled one of your arms free and started to fondle his balls. "Give it to me. Cum all over me."

He bit into your shoulder and moaned. "No, gonna cum in you. Gonna flood your shit.” He smiled blissfully. “I'm gonna cum so fucking hard in you you'll be leaking for days."

You clenched even harder on him. Your pussy was down with that. But there was one thing he was forgetting. "Geralt, wait.” You tried to catch your breath. “Mmphm. I'll be pregnant if you come inside me."

He shifted positions again. He laid you on your back and spread your legs as wide as they would go. He started making deep lunges in your pussy and you could feel him bottoming out and hitting the back of your pussy. 

A wicked smile fell across his face as he looked up at you. You could see the predatory glint in his eyes. "Exactly. I'm gonna knock you up. You're gonna have our baby. You want that right? You want to have my baby?"

Where the hell did this come from? You couldn't contain the shock on your face. "I didn't know you wanted a baby. You don't exactly like children."

He was shaking his head before you finished. "We've been doing this for years Y/N.  Did you really think I'd waste that kind of time with someone I didn't see a future with? You are important to me. I want to have a family with you. I want you to stay by my side."

Geralt's thrust had slowed to a conversational pace. And though it still stirred something in you, you couldn’t help but want to finish the conversation. 

You would be lying if you said you weren't in love with him. You just figured he wasn't interested in that kind of relationship so you took what you could get. Your heart fluttered at the chance of a real relationship with Geralt. If he was ready to have a child, then so were you. You two would be the best parents in the world. You both grew up with terrible parents so you would make sure the child would get all the love and attention you two never did. 

You grabbed his face gently and looked into his eyes. "Yes, I want to have your baby. I love you, Geralt."

He thrust one, two, three more times and exploded. You couldn't help but come again at the feeling of him filling you up.

He nuzzled your neck, "I love you too Y/N."

He pumped into you until he was spent, then rolled over and pulled you onto his chest. You both laid there in silence while your breathing slowed. 

You broke the silence first. "Well that was something."

He chuckled, "Definitely something. I meant what I said, Y/N. I want a baby with you. If I didn't knock you up just then, then I'm gonna keep going until I do."

You laughed aloud at the memory. "First time was the charm I guess."

Geralt nuzzled even closer to you, hands absently rubbing your belly. "I still had to give insurance." The humor was very apparent in his voice.

You shook your head, a goofy smile on your face, "Of course you did."

He hummed, the vibration calmed you instantly. "I love you Y/N. You and our baby."

You smiled and rested your hands on top of his. Over the child you were growing. The child that would be a perfect mix of you and him. The child you loved and would protect with your life already.

Both of you started dozing off, relaxed now that your morning sickness seems to have passed for a while. But you made sure to answer him before sleep claimed you completely.

"I love you too. You and your big headed baby."

[astronaut-moose]

The House pt. 10 SweatPants

A/N: Insert reader written. Based off of a recent dream. originally written on wattpad. One of the first fics i’ve ever written so feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Summary: This house was built in 1956. Built out of so much love that it actually developed its own soul. When the house lost its owners, it wept for them. Since then it has traveled through time helping others find that same love, or just peace in some cases. It's made stops in 1268, 1899, 1919, and then traveling through years. The occasional stop back in time, or even forward. Y/N made herself In a small town, with no real family. Only one real friend, Teton. A Friesian, the only thing she had ever owned or loved. Working at a small bar in town, she was suddenly invited to dinner by a stranger. She couldn't go because of a promise she had to uphold. Everything seemed normal while out on her favorite trail. Until she came across a house... one that wasn't ever there before. Suddenly becoming wrapped up in a world where magic, monsters, and soulmates exist. The House knows everything, every secret, every purpose, and every single Fate

Warnings: 18+. gore, adult content, attempted assault, Gore. THIS IS PURE FILTH. MINORS DNI. 

5.3K Words

Part 9

When you finally woke, the sun was setting. A luminescent amber glow shone on the snow outside. Gentle snores rumbled just under your head. Geralt was still with you. You pulled the covers up and tucked them just under your chin, arm snaking as far as it could over Geralts waist. Fingertips skirting just under the hem of his shirt where you could feel the volts shock them as you touched his skin. Slowly you let them wander farther underneath it. Up the hardened muscles of his abdomen, to his sculpted chest. Hand stopping there, in-between his pecs, feeling the strong thud of his heartbeat against your palm. The occasional tickle from his hair. "Are you enjoying yourself?" His voice just against your ear made you jump, quickly pulling your hand out of his shirt. 

'I-I'm so sorry I-" He grabbed your small hand in his giant one and led it back under. The heartbeat in your ears wasn't his this time. 

"Keep going." Doing as you were told, investigating every part of him you could reach. His collar bone, his chest, his abdomen. Until you slowed your search at his waistline. 

"I didn't mean to wake you up," you whispered, fingernails slowly trailing along the waist of his sweatpants. 

"hm. Nice way to wake someone up though." Goosebumps covered his skin. 

"Geralt." He looked down at you, catching your eyes, his eyes were the most magnificent bright shade of yellow. Holy shit I am not ready for this. Sarahs warning rung clear in your head. "I-I need to shower." His eyes looked hungry, but no emotion shown on his face. "W-will you help me?" 

"Of course." You couldn't gauge what he was feeling, or what he was thinking. He gently pulled the covers off of your bodies and helped you to stand, letting you use him as a brace as you went down the hall. He closed and locked the door behind you both. There was a tan fluffy towel laid out for you on the counter space. The smell of eucalyptus came from an already drawn bath filled to the edge with bubbles. Geralt helped you hobble to the side of the tub. Your skin felt on fire and your cheeks burned. oh gods, he's not going to leave...

"t-turn a-around please." Silently he did as you asked, realizing that the mirror probably still offered him a peak. Let him look. Cheeks flushing even harder, light headedness washing in, but you bent down to shimmy your blood stained leggings off. When you rose to your full height, your vision sparkled and whirled, making you hold on to the edge of the tub. Strong arms shot around you to hold onto your sides, thick fingers gripped into your ribs. 

"Are you alright? Take it slow." There was no hiding the concern his in voice. Yet you panicked as you realized he could see you.

"Geralt-!"

"I don't give a shit. Don't pass out on me." His voice was low, angry. Wobbling in his arms you turned to face him, eye level to his chest. Your hands gripped into his biceps tightly, both a warning and out of imbalance. 

"I-I don't-" your head spun.

"Shirt." Doing as he asked you lifted your shirt over your head, vision momentarily going black. He held you against him until you regained yourself, cheek pressed into his firm peck.

"Geral-" He wouldn't listen to your pleas, but you were sure he could feel your embarrassment hot against his skin. 

"Stop. Turn." Gingerly he turned you by your shoulders, shocks from his fingers traveled down your spine as he carefully undid the clasps of your bra. Too stunned to speak you just stood there. His fingertips blazing a trail even lower down your back to hook onto your panties, pulling them down over your bare bottox. He gently pushed your thighs backwards, urging you to sit on his shoulder as you stepped one ankle at a time out of them. As he rose to stand behind you, something firm brushed against your lower back. His strong hands came to your bare waist, all but lifting you as he helped you lower yourself into the water. The bubbles rose above your breasts tickling the soft skin of your chest, the bath tub wasn't long enough for you to cover everything unless you bent your knees. Finally able to look up at him you noticed how blown his pupils where as he devoured your frame. Red rushed through your cheeks and down into your neck. Your eyes landed on what had bumped into you just a moment before, a tight flop resonating in your lower belly. 

"Fuck. I'm sorry." He spun away from you. 

"It's ok," It came out as the faintest of whispers but he heard you. 

"No, that was wrong of me. I apologize." Bubbles ran down your forearm to drip off your elbow as you reached up to grab his wrist. He looked down at your slender fingers. 

"Don't." Tugging on his wrist until he turned to face you, deftly you grabbed the sponge that sat on the rim, dunking it in the water, and handing it to him. You could tell by the look written on his face that he was fighting to control himself. "Help me." He kneeled beside the tub, the water rippled from his massive frame meeting the floor, and hesitantly took the sponge from your hand. Gently massaging it into your shoulder. 

Fluttering your eyes closed you fought to control your heart, that was pounding so hard it reverberated the water. 

"I-I... Are you sure?" His breath was shaky, so close to your ear that you could feel it.

"I've only got one good arm," You bumped your shoulders as you tried to play nonchalant, when your skin was melting and heart so close to bursting. His hand and the sponge stayed at your neckline, not daring to go any further. Meeting his wet hand with your own you guided him down to your breasts. The feeling of his eyes were not numb to your skin, even through closed lids you could feel them blazing. He hesitated, until you gave a content sigh. The coarseness from the sponge over your soft nipples made them harden, you gasped as low heat began to pool in your stomach. He pulled away and the sound of the water being squeezed from the sponge peaked your interest, lifting your eyes to look just as he sat the sponge back on the edge. No, please don't stop. You shot him a disheartened look. His large pupils held yours as he put his hand back to the water, fingertips gliding it down your chest causing goosebumps to rise despite the warm water, then firmly cusped your breast. The gasp that left your lips was both shock and pleasure, as he massaged your chest. "Geralt," you whispered, resting your head on the back of the porcelain. He continued his onslaught of gropes until he pinched your taught nipple, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. His eyes had been focused on his work until he heard the sound, he leaned over to devour your lips. Hungrily pushing his tongue past your lips, tasting you. Mouths trying to dominate the others until your lungs burned. 

"Tell me to stop and I will," He said hastily before pushing his mouth back into yours and leisurely pulling away once more to start his assault on your neck. 

"N-n-no. Don't stop." Pleasure was taking over your body as his hands massaged your breasts and his lips attacked your soft spot. Sucking and biting their way down to your collarbone, his hair tickling your exposed skin. Your good arm came up caress his head, water dripping onto his shoulders. Suddenly his groping hand traveled farther down your body, squeezing each hip leaving a blazing trail behind. His fingertip traced an electrified path between your hips, dipping slightly into your valley. "Geralt what-" He brought his lips to yours against, planting a soft kiss to them. 

"Tell me no." He growled against your mouth. But you couldn't. Didn't want to. His hand traveled in-between your legs to massage your mound. Gasps left your lips just as quickly as they were devoured by his. One thick finger separated you and began making soft slow circles around your bundle of nerves. Legs shaking, abdomen writhing with pleasure, as you made the most lewd noises you'd ever heard. Geralts deep growl resonated against your lips, his body pushing up against the side of the bathtub as if he were ready to jump in with you. His hand altered its position, his index finger left your nub momentarily to be replaced by his thumb, as his long middle traveled into your folds. The sensation was so foreign, you moaned loudly into his mouth. A strong tightening forming in your lower abdomen, a coiling of muscles that ached for release. "Oh g-gods, Geralt." His fingertip found your entrance, but didn't instantly enter. Instead, he made slow circles just within the opening combined with the quick circles on your clit. his lips never once left yours until you threw your head back, moans rushing from your lips, and only then did he lean farther into you, sucking on your neck. Making the soft skin turn raw and tender under his teeth. Swiftly he inserted his thick digit into you, causing your back to arch above the water, it sloshed higher up the sides and cascaded off your arched body in a beautiful way. He curled his finger upward. "O-oh fuck!" You couldn't form any other words as your core clamped down onto his finger. His finger pushed up again and you lost all of your control, legs shaking, coil crashing down. "Geralt!" You yelped, pulsing around his finger, coating it, as he slowly pumped into you. Lightheadedness hit you so hard you had to fight for consciousness. Every muscle in your body relaxed, eyes closed and chest heaving. His tongue soothed over the tender bruise he had created. He gave you one more pump of his thick finger making you whimper, and pulled from you. 

"Fuck." He growled. You looked up at his face, your own pupils blown just as wide as his. The water tickled your breasts as your chest continued to pant, trying to calm yourself from the high. 

"Geralt-" He kissed you, hard but sweet. Right hand resting on your hip, the other cradled around your head. He pulled away, his eyes scanning your face. "W-was that... it?"

He chuckled. "No." His fingers traced soft circles onto your cheek. 

"Sure felt like it." He chuckled even harder. Leaning into your ear. 

"I have to be inside of you." His teeth grazed your earlobe sending shivers through your entire body. 

"oh."

"I uhm... I do have to go change, though." His eyes ticked away from yours to quickly glance down at himself. 

"D-did you-?"

"Yeah." He gave you a smile, canines flashing momentarily. You couldn't help but giggle. "I'll be back." Quickly he planted a kiss to your head and lifted himself from his seat on the floor, headed toward the door. "I-I'm sorry if I... pushed you." His face look saddened. 

"No, Geralt..." your cheeks heated. " I want you." His eyes met your face with the same fierceness as before as He let himself out the door. If that felt so good, I wonder what the real thing feels like. Grabbing the sponge again you took your time with cleaning yourself, thoroughly. In case the night took another turn. The beautiful wood paned windows just above the tub gave you an uninterrupted view of the mountainside. The sun sinking lower behind the peak of the mountain, the trees holding the glow that was only intensified by the stark white snow. Dark gray clouds tinted by the light. It was absolutely breathtaking. Winter always had a nostalgic pull to you, never being able to tell what time it was, how cold it was, how quiet. Pealing the soaked bandage from your arm you assessed the damage. Four raw looking tears traveled from your shoulder to your elbow, the skin completely frayed apart. ouch. Though you couldn't feel any pain. The gashes were seeming to already be coming back together, soft scabs starting to form. Those will make a helluva scar. A sharp nock at the door broke your trance. Heart already starting to pick up. 

"Geralt?" You called. The door opened just an inch. A bubbly giggling coming from it. 

"Noooo, it's sarah." She continued to giggle, "I just have some ointment and bandages for you." Lowering yourself into the water so everything but your feet and neck were concealed with bubbles. Ankles resting on the edge. 

"Come in." She slid herself through the door and placed the aids on the countertop. She turned to face you and wiggled her eyebrows. You blushed a deep scarlet, "Oh hush."

"I don't care," She laughed. "He just has to be gentle with you." She leaned herself against the counter. "Do you hurt?"

"No my arm's fine." She erupted with laughter. 

"I'm not talking about your arm."

"Oh! No, w-we didn't.. we h-haven't."

"Sure sounded like it," She continued giggling as she let herself out again. Oh good hell Sarah! You're embarrassing! you lowered yourself farther into the water, legs spilling out the other end as you began to wash your hair. Pausing under the surface you listened to your heartbeat. It was still faster than normal, nervous. He's already seen what I've got to give... But what if it's not enough? What if I do something wrong? What if i'm not good at it... what if-. Your internal dialogue was cut off by a pair of yellow eyes looking down at you. Heat rushed through your cheeks, goosebumps raising on your skin. His mouth didn't move but his arms did, reaching down, hands sliding into your hair taking the place of yours. Letting your arms slowly fall back as he massaged your scalp, you closed your eyes and savored the feeling. Soft moans slipping from your lips. Once the shampoo was gone from your hair, he placed a sturdy hand on the back of your neck, helping you sit up. Giving him a dopey look. 

"That good huh?" He chuckled and you blushed even harder. He sat down on the side of the tub, an arm dangled over to run his fingertips from your thigh to your calf. 

"Geralt... I'm nervous," You confessed. 

"About what?"

"About..." You didn't know what to call it. "T-the... mati-"

"Don't be." He took his eyes off of your legs and met yours. "I won't push you." He got up off of the floor and grabbed your towel from the counter. "Whenever you tell me to stop. I'll stop." He reached for your arm and helped you to your unsteady feet, wrapping the towel around your shoulders, trying to keep his eyes on your face. He was being so soft with you, when you first had met him you would've never guessed a man as brutish as him could possess it. You grabbed the edges of the towel and wrapped them around your chest, tucking them in. "I know... I know i'll hurt you." It confused you. He looked down to the floor. Bringing your hand up to his face you lifted his chin, and wrapped your other arm around his neck.

"I don't think you're capable," you said, kissing him gently.

"I'm three times your size (Y/N)." He said lowly against your lips. Shivers ran through your body. You hadn't been thinking of him hurting you in that way. "I will try my best not to tear you apart." He bit your earlobe making your knees go weak, and continued his onslaught of biting to your neck wincing slightly as he nipped the over-sensitive spot. He pulled away from you and turned you in front of the mirror, both of your images reflected as he kissed the hollow of your neck to the top of your shoulder, an angry red/purple hicky inches above. His golden eyes bore at you through the mirror. You took in your small frame in contrast with his, his hair, his smile, his topaz eyes you loved so much. He was an absolute mountain of man, the epitome of the male species, everything about him screamed dominant aggressive male. And you loved it. He shifted his body away from you and grabbed the salve and bandages, gently pushing you back into the counter. His fingers ghosted across the gashes, the only thing you felt was how cold the salve was, and how tightly he wrapped your arm. He caught your eyes and smirked. 

"No clothes?" His smirk grew into a grin. 

"W-what?" 

He laughed," You didn't grab clothes"

"Oh shit," the smile faltered as you realized the house hadn't helped you out either. The towel wrapped around you would have to suffice. Quietly you peaked through the door, making sure the hallway was clear. Geralts strong hand came to sit on your hip, pulling you into him as you both left the bathroom. 

Before you reached your door your stomach rumbled, earning a cheeky grin from him. "What? Aren't you ever hungry?"

"Not as often as you." It was a jest but it still stung. Grabbing your strength you pushed away from him and walked into your bedroom, marching into your closet. Geralt looked confused. "Did I upset you?" You busied yourself in finding clothes, the door was only half open so you could hear him trying to backpedal. "(Y/N) have you seen how much I actually consume?" The bed creaked and you stayed silent. "I can eat an entire cow in one sitting." Laughter bubbled out of your chest. 

"That's not even possible," you opened the closet door the rest of the way. Still wrapped in the damp towel. 

"Don't think I didn't notice why you didn't eat your burger the other night. I should've ordered something too instead of eating yours..." Geralt was sat on your bed, looking to the floor.

Giving him a genuine smile you said ," It's okay... I just get really self conscious sometimes... I think it's pretty cute when you stuff your face." Shyly you came out of the closet to stand in front of him. 

"Why did you wipe my chin like that?" He looked up at you, something dark swimming in his eyes. 

confidence warmed its way into your chest. Slowly you reached out your hands to rest on his broad shoulders as you leaned into him. Planting each knee on either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. "It's not really socially acceptable to throw yourself across a table to lick someone," you whispered. fingers coming to the back of his neck, gently intertwining with his hair. 

"Good thing there aren't any social rules here," The confidence in your voice surprised you. He all but snarled. His lips coming to meet yours in a frenzy, tongue parting your lips and dancing with yours. The towel barely clung to your chest and with one swift tug it was gone from your body. Rough fingers traveled up your thigh to dig deliciously into your ass. A moan left your lips as you gently sucked his bottom lip into your mouth. Sucking it hard before biting down. A low beastly growl rumbled out of his chest, as you let your teeth pull away from his lip.

"Fuck. You make this control thing really hard," He said as he Pushed your ass farther onto his lap, his hardened covered length hitting your bare core.

"Let go," You moaned, grasping at the back of his neck. 

"Mmm," He groaned into your neck. His canines bit down into the top of your shoulder as he rolled his hips, causing an even louder moan to leave your throat. "I can smell what I do to you." You could feel it, the slickness and the ache that accompanied it. The carnal need to feel him. Lightly you began to trail an arm in-between your bodies, angling it just underneath you as you groped his hard covered length. 

"No one has ever made me feel this way Geralt." His eyes were shut and neck held back as he groaned. Your hand left him and instead grabbed the bottom of his shirt, attempting to pull it over his head. He took the initiative and pulled it off, a gasp leaving your lips and immediately planting them onto his chest. Nipping and licking across his pecs. Strong hands groped your ass, then your hips, fingers digging possessively into your skin no doubt leaving small bruises in their wake. 

"For as long as I live, you are mine," He snarled. You rolled your hips down into him eliciting an animalistic grunt. His arms Tightened around your waist as he stood up with you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he effortlessly turned you both to gently lay you down. Biceps coiling around you. Even with your back into the sheets you still locked your ankles together, pinning him closer into you. His mouth found your collar bone and traveled lower, tongue igniting a path down to your breasts. You gasped as his mouth left open wet kisses over your nipple, gently holding it in-between his teeth as his tongue flicked back and forth. The sensation made your toes curl and your nails dig into the thick muscles of his back. 

"G-Geralt!" You arched into him, pushing his face closer and he wound an arm under your back crushing you into him. His mouth left, only to do the same to other. You bucked your hips up into him and were rewarded with finding his incredibly firm cock. Completely erect nestled in-between your thighs. The immense irritation you felt for his sweatpants painted your face. Letting your heel find the waist of his pants, you desperately tried to kick them off. You only half succeeded, getting them down his perfect ass. He chuckled against you, his free arm momentarily leaving you to agilely pull them down. 

"So needy." He rolled his hips into you. The hardened skin making contact with your aching center, sliding in-between your slick. An obscene moan bellowed from you. Geralt pulled away, coming to meet your eyes. "Are you sure?" He licked his lips, and the act alone made you want to scream. 

"Devour me." Your lips sloppily crashed into his, teeth clashing and tongues swirling together. He grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you up onto him to sit on his lap. Your curiosity pulled you from his lips as you glanced down in-between your bodies. Oh good gods. He was generously large. Pressed up against his abdomen in-between your thighs, leaking. His hand started low and gingerly traveled up your body, gently wrapping around your throat to hold the back of your neck. He kissed you, sweetly slow, full of unsaid emotions.

"If it's too much, We'll stop," his words came out breathy. 

"I want this Geralt," You whispered. His free hand came from your hip down to your core. Blazing yellow eyes searching yours as he gently parted your folds. His name bubbled from your lips as he inserted his finger, slowly pumping it in and out of you. The warmth in your lower stomach grew ever more intense, the aching unbearable as you gripped his finger. He pulled out of you and grabbed your hips with both hands. Lifting you ever so slightly to hover above his girthy length. 

"Go slow," he said huskily. You planted your hands on his shoulders as you rested your forehead against his, and lowered yourself onto him. His precum slicked tip entered into you accompanied with a dull burn. You threw your head back, cries of his name scratched out from your throat. He hadn't even entered you half way before you had to stop, letting your narrow walls adjust around his hard cock. Shudders raked through your body as every fiber of you tried to relax yourself around him. A massive hand wound itself around the back of your neck to push you into his lips, the tender sweet kiss urging you to unwind . Slowly you lowered yourself onto him completely, clenching him incredibly tight. He groaned against your lips as you stilled, letting yourself fully adjust. As your legs relaxed he slid even deeper, a sharp pain accompanying with just how deep he sat inside of you, tearing your Heiman. 

"A-ah, G-Geralt!" you gasped into his open mouth, as he groaned into yours. Your walls fluttered around him as the pain began to dull. 

"Shh. It's okay. Relax." His hands held your neck, as he planted soft kisses to your full lips. His low grunts slipping past. His arm came to hold you, lifting you up as you supported yourself on your knees, leaning fully into his broad chest. He slowly rolled his hips up into you, fingers simultaneously tightening around the back of your neck. 

"Oh Go-Geralt." He filled every single spot inside of you, all the way to your cervix. Tears brimmed your eyes from its intensity. Geralts calm control seemed to break. His still slow thrusts became powerful, deeper, leaving you to cling to his shoulders as your mind went dumb. Each time pounding that sweet spot inside of you. He lowered you to the bed, still on his knees before you as he lifted your hips from the mattress. His hips stopped rolling, and started snapping, completely bottoming himself out inside of you. You could feel your breasts bouncing as your insides were rearranged. Pornographic moans sloppily shrieked from your swollen lips. The coil in your stomach was wound so tight you thought you'd shatter from the tension. 

"look at me," He growled. and you complied. His pupils massive with desire as he took in the sight of you. He leaned over you to catch your lips, bracing himself up on his thick forearm, his other hand still firm on your hip holding you in place as he firmly fucked into you. This new position somehow drew him in even deeper, slamming against your sweet spot with every hunger driven fuck from his insatiable hips.  You could feel yourself clamp around his cock even tighter as the coil inside threatened to tear. You were completely impaled by him. The lewd sounds of skin on skin and animalistic groans of your name filled your ears. Finger nails digging into the flesh of his muscled back. "You f-feel so fucking good," he grunted into your ear. Gently biting your lobe. "you take me so well (Y/N)." The coil was so taught you swear you'd fall apart, accompanied with the relentless hammer of your heart. "Made just for me." His next thrust was so deep and so hard you screamed. Nails breaking the skin on his rolling shoulders, the flexing of your thighs pulling him closer. "Mine!" He howled.

"G-geral- I Oh god." Your mind was hazy, you couldn't think or feel anything aside from the pure pleasure this mountain of a man was giving you. How well he filled you, how deep inside of you he sat. Your mind and your senses completely filled with Geralt. He shifted your positions once again, fucking up into you as you straddled him. His arms and hips did all the work as he drilled into your sweet spot, leaving you only to cling to his neck. Unbreakably thrusting into you again and again until all you could do was blindly scream his name. The warm feeling of yourself spilled down your thighs. You couldn't take much more. He bit down into your shoulder stifling a loud moan, as he pulled himself out of you and pushed himself into you strongly, til you took every last inch of him. The reverberation in his bass groans sent shivers throughout your body. Combined with the hard deep thrust into you, your coil finally snapped. Clenching around him achingly tight as you squirted all over his lap. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)"He shouted as his hips stuttered, pumping all he had up into you with his release. Pulsing in tune with your contractions. 

It happened, all at the same time. 

The dark waves lapped against the rocks, violently, unable to move them. Angry dark-grey clouds overhead began to calm and soften, parting for the bright... white... yellow... Stars. Billions of beautiful blinking stars in a vastly multicolored galaxy. Sewing their way across the black rift that was the milky way, seemingly trying to pull it all together. A sudden weight. Grabbing your boot and yanking you back down to the earths surface as everything crashed and burned around you. Buildings crumbling at your now bare feet. Weeds thriving throughout man made paths. Green grass settling between your toes. The same angry waves as before were now calm, a beautiful blue-green hue lapping against the smooth sand. Sifting the sediment until there was raw... Gold. Gold that seemed to sear your eyes and ease your heart. Gold, Tethering you... to only him. You were no longer a singular person. A single soul. Your life was no longer just about you. Every fiber of being was engrained with his. Dedicate, protect, nurture, love. Souls entwined for eternity.

"Geralt," You choked out. Tears unknowingly spilling down your cheeks. The lightheaded feeling made you dizzy, but as long as you felt his skin you could stay grounded. His forehead was pressed into yours as his arms tightly held you against him, shaking. Your own body shook violently while still contracting him into your core. He fell to the side, dragging you into the pillows with him. Vision blurry and hands trembling as you brought your fingertips to his face. His eyelids were closed but you noticed the clear shining liquid running down his cheek, falling from his sharp jaw. "Geralt?" You whispered close to his lips. His eyes snapped open and you saw the most vibrant gold burning within them. A shallow gasp left your lips. 

"I love you." His voice was the deepest you'd ever heard it. "I love you," He said again. His lips finding yours, softly molding them to his. "Fuck. I Never thought I'd find you." The sound of his voice alone made your tears fall faster. Everything was different, heightened. Intense. He moved his hips in an attempt to be closer to you, even though there was no possible way, and you moaned. You were delectably swollen; lips, core, breasts. He stiffened inside you. Leg swung over his hip, as he held you to his chest. Reverently pushing his hips into you. "I love you," His lips came to your jaw. Planting soft open-mouthed kisses. You closed your eyes, soaking him in, committing him to memory. Gently he slid out of you, and eased himself back in, gently petting your g-spot. 

"I- I love you, Geralt." Your Arms tightened around his neck pushing his mouth into you. A new coil tightened low inside of you. more extreme this time, instantly almost there. His arm snaked up your back to wrap into your hair, raking your scalp. He rolled into you one more time, and grunted. You could feel him pulsing into you, warmth once again rushing to coat your insides. 

"(Y/N)." He groaned. The stutter from his hips only nudged him deeper.  the feeling of being so full with him pushed your orgasm to gently fall. Quiet moans being devoured by his lips. Your bodies couldn't get any closer, but still you wrapped yourself into him. Every muscle in your body ached, skin still alight, bones filled with an exhaustion you'd never experienced before. At some point you realized you were both still crying. As he pet your hair from your face and caressed your cheeks.

"I love you." You whispered into his chest. 

"Forever." His low voice was the last thing you felt vibrate through you as the waves of exhaustion took you both under.

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A/N: Hey! I hope ya’ll are enjoying this! Don’t be afraid to message me anything! I would really enjoy some feedback to know how i’m doing. This is my first seriosu fic and i plan on it being quite lengthy. The next few chapters might take a while for me to roll out, i have them all planned just need to put them down. I am going through some ‘hard-times’ bullshit, so the next chapter might not be out for a week or two. But i promise you, this is not the juiciest chapter!! I plan on this fic being at the least 20 parts long, but i struggle with getting them below 4K words so we’ll see together! Thank you guys so so much for reading, i really appreciate it. I love being able to make my crazy dream into a story!

[astronaut-moose]

Pt. 4 Such A Clutz

A/N: Insert reader written. Based off of a recent dream. originally written on wattpad. One of the first fics i’ve ever written so feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Summary: This house was built in 1956. Built out of so much love that it actually developed its own soul. When the house lost its owners, it wept for them. Since then it has traveled through time helping others find that same love, or just peace in some cases. It's made stops in 1268, 1899, 1919, and then traveling through years. The occasional stop back in time, or even forward. Y/N made herself In a small town, with no real family. Only one real friend, Teton. A Friesian, the only thing she had ever owned or loved. Working at a small bar in town, she was suddenly invited to dinner by a stranger. She couldn't go because of a promise she had to uphold. Everything seemed normal while out on her favorite trail. Until she came across a house... one that wasn't ever there before. Suddenly becoming wrapped up in a world where magic, monsters, and soulmates exist. The House knows everything, every secret, every purpose, and every single Fate

Warnings: 18+. gore, adult content, attempted assault, Gore.

2.4K words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Part 5

The warmth from the coffee mug spread into your fingers as you sat at the bar, giving Sarah your full attention.

"Are you sure (Y/N)?"

You just bobbed your head. Staying quiet.

"Alright. This house was actually built in the 60's." She paused, gauging your face. But there was no expression on it, you wanted every last ludicrous drop of what she was about to give you. "The original owners were Pearl and Thomas Shelby. They were a young couple they got married in their early 20's and then built this house. They had been married for 4 years when they found out in December that Pearl was pregnant. Later that December, Thomas was drafted into the Vietnam war. She heard nothing from or about him for several months, the stress got to her and she miscarried at Six months. Pearl fell into a bad depression. Wouldn't cook and feed herself, wouldn't bathe. Wouldn't get up to turn the heater on... So the house, started doing these things for her. Tried cooking her food. Running her baths. Making sure she had clean clothes. It was all in vein when in early July she received the letter that stopped her heart. Thomas wouldn't be returning from the war, and so she died." Sarah stopped. Again there was no expression on your face, enraptured by the story that you wanted her to continue. After taking a swig of your coffee you asked," and then?"

"Well, ya see. The house was built out of so much love, so much true soulmate love, that it actually grew its own sort of soul. When it failed to save Pearl from her excruciating pain, her soul joined with the houses' and together they created... magic." This is all one giant joke. and at my expense. How naive I am. You snorted. "I'm being serious (Y/N)."

"That's not possible."

"It is though. The house travels through time. We wake up every morning in a different location!" The bar stool creaked as you began to stand up.

"That's it. I've had enough. you've had your joke. I'm done." Sarah stood in front of you.

"Please! Please just listen!" She skipped behind you as you shoved passed her, making your way to your boots neatly placed by the back door.  Grabbing the worn leathered sides you slipped your foot in until your toes found their way into their grooved souls. "Look please, just let me finish and then you can leave. I'm not laughing at you (Y/N)." You stood to your full height and folded your arms across your chest.

"Fine," You rolled your eyes at her.

"Look, I was picked up in 2010 at 26 years old. I've been in the house for 26 years. I haven't aged a single day." You put your hand on the door knob. "A-and Geralt and Roach are from 1266, he's been here 25 years, we went back to get him." The door creaked as you pulled it open. "Wait! okay? just wait!" She huffed, exasperated. Closing the door you turned to face her a 'I'm not taking this shit' look on your face. "Look every time someone new is supposed to join us the house adds another room. We all have unique rooms specific to us. We don't have to worry about money, food, clothes. The only thing we worry about is finding a soulmate. Because that's what Pearl wanted to do, help others find the same happiness she had." She paused making sure you weren't going to bolt. "How do you think this house just suddenly appeared in the woods? How do you think we were able to move from Scotland to Firth? The. House." well she has a point there, there's no way for a house to be up here unless it was by some divine force. "The house has another room. We've been here for two weeks almost three now, trying to figure out who it's for. And we think it... it might be you."

  You just stood there. Letting her words sink in as you were mulling things over. No bills would be nice. No having to worry about buying Teton his feed while I go without. What if this is a trick? What if they want to kidnap me? Or sell me into the sex trade? " Show me." She nodded swiftly and walked into the living room. Following behind her your boots made a satisfying 'kluh-chink' across the kitchen floor, she started up the stairs and you followed. At the top of the stairs the railing turned sharp right, leading into an open reading area and then a straight hallway. You passed a door on your left, right, left, and then she turned into another left door. When you walked in your mouth dropped open.

"This is my room, I thought I'd give an example first." The entire room except for about two walls were glass windows. Paneled like an observatory. Plants hung from the rafters, on stands, in the middle of floors. Massive leaves that were bigger than your entire body, along with stark white ones. A small work bench was against one of the solid walls, with a tv hung above it. The work bench was littered with small burlap bags, glass vials, wax sealed bottles and books with overflowing pages. Against the other solid wall was a bed, four thick ropes supporting it from the ceiling, and a small closet door. Your lungs were completely empty of air. "I love it, everything I could've wanted."

"It's beautiful," the words escaped your lips breathlessly. She closed the door to her room and led you a little back the way you came. Slowly opening the door that was to the right.

  "Shh, I'm pretty sure Ian is asleep but just a quick peak won't hurt." Peaking over her shoulder you saw a massive rounded room. Every single wall was littered floor to ceiling in books, big comfy chairs and a small fire place in the center. This is a bedroom? Suddenly you noticed the winding slender staircase that led to a loft of sorts. The image grew narrower and narrower as Sarah closed the door.

"This is amazing." The awe you felt was written in bold across your face.

"It really is... and lastly. This I believe... is your room." She opened the door and flicked on the light.

  Oh good lords. The walls were painted in a beautiful dark hue, tree roots splayed across the walls knots forming hangers and little shelves. Nestled in the corner was a beautiful tree, an actual tree. The trunk was hollowed out for shelves that were lined with gorgeous tattered books, one of the lowest thick main branches made a sort of hideaway that was hidden from view with a black curtain. There were stone steps on one side of the trunk that made the way into a reading nook, you could only just see the fluffy blankets and pillows spilling over the side. The entire tree and roots were lit up by what looked like sea glass fairy lights. In the opposite corner there hung a swing, the ropes connecting to the beam above were littered with an unidentified greenery.  The bed was astonishing, it seemed to be entirely floating with a light blue hue seeping out from underneath it, a thick dark navy blue comforter covering the top and an array of comfortable looking pillows. One wall was a complete window, in the center of it you noticed a black bar? You quickly realized it was a seamless door, that led out onto the raw wooden deck of the house. The dark wood closet door was slightly ajar, just enough for you to make out a gorgeous looking pair of western riding boots. Suddenly tears filled your eyes. I believe everything. The room called to you with a quiet sense of safety, comfort, and relief. No more fighting the world, no more long tireless hours of work, no more financial worry.

  Sarah noticed the fat tears sliding their way down your cheek. She knew that the room was meant for you but now you made it that much more obvious. This was your home, the one you thought you would never find. She gently cusped your shoulder, turning you into her. Enveloping you into the warmest knowing hug you'd ever felt. Pulling away from her you swiftly wiped your cheek and gave her a strong nod. This is it, this intense fairy tail magic filled fever dream is where I'm supposed to be.

  Sarah softly closed the door, looking into your eyes and placing both of her tiny hands on your shoulders. "The only way to really know this is yours... Is to spend the night. Everyone in the house has to be asleep before it moves. But once you stay, that's it, it's permanent. There's no going back. Well... we might visit if the timing is right, but your stuck with the house forever until it decides your time is up." The tears were still streaming down your face without notice. "Are there any loose ends you need to tie up?"

  Jennifer and Caleb, the ranch, I have to let them know not to worry. "Yes, I need to go back just for tonight. A-and Teton?" Your stomach tightened with anxiety. You would never give him up, even for a blissful life without worry.

"Geralt has Roach, You will have Teton. Anything he could ever need." That was all you needed. In your gut you knew now that this was your fate. Sarah quickly glanced down to her wrist," if you need to go. go now, it's almost 11:30. The house travels at midnight." Nodding you set your way down the hallway and stairs. Without a second glance behind you, you slammed through the back patio doors. The heels of your boots and spurs loud against the cement pathway to the barn. Once inside you decided not to bother yourself with fully tacking up Teton, just his bridle would do. You had to be off of the property in less than 20 minutes. You grabbed his bridle off of the hook and set off to find your boy. He was all alone in the farthest corner of the paddock, his attention to the forest.

  "C'mon Son, we gotta go." Making your way towards him with his bridle slung over your shoulder. Is this really what I want? To find permanent love? No bills to pay, no aging, no stress, whatever I need when I need it. Complete freedom. Yes I want this. What if it's still all a lie? Then you would fight like all hell until you were off this crazy ride, wherever it stopped. There was more than enough proof tonight. It would have to be the most elaborate trick. Unconsciously your fingers went slack as you realized you let go of Tetons' bridle. Shit! You spun around trying to see the leather in the dark. The heal of your boot caught on something so you spun again, taking a step forward you felt your other boot draw taught at the toe. The sound of the bridle racking across the ground accompanied with it. The world raced by as you realized you were falling. The last thing you saw was the moon and the milky way before your vision went black with a wet 'crack'.

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Geralt was finally coming up to the back light of the stable. Riding Roach straight into the stable, and dismounting. She stood there looking just as tired as he felt. He went over to the mountain of hay, twice the size than it normally was, and grabbed half a bale. Deftly tossing it into her stall as he came back to her, he unfastened her cinch, and then her billet. Pulling the saddle off her left side and placing it back on the tack rack. Grabbing a brush he swiftly swiped her down, and finally removed her bridle, returning her to her stall. She didn't give any attention to her feed, quickly making her way out into the paddock. He's not here girl. Geralt huffed and Left the stable. His head jerked towards the fence when he heard the high pitched whinny of the stud horse, as he ran his way to check on Roach. Why is he still here? Geralt strayed from the walk and looked over the fence. Immediately he could smell vanilla... and blood. Jumping the fence in one swift motion he hurried over to the limp mass towards the far side of paddock. "fuck." He scooped up the slack body of the beautiful girl that came to the house. "What the hell are you still doing here?" he mumbled to your unconscious body. The smell of your blood hit his nose tenfold, his stomach flopped at the potency of it. The smell of vanilla and honey was growing fainter as he let himself through the gate. Jogging up the pathway to the house, his skin was burned with each crimson droplet that landed on his forearm. The worry that reached his heart both confused and unnerved him.

  Bursting through the back doors, Sarah screamed from her seat on the couch. She had a wine glass in her hand that sloshed all over the carpet. "What the fuck Geralt!? Where have you been! What-" Her lecture was cutoff with the realization that he was holding a person. "Oh my Gods! (Y/N)! I thought she left an hour ago! Where did you find-"

"In the paddock." he huffed out. Making his way up the stairs and to the unoccupied bedroom.

"Is she okay? Oh fuck sake, She's bleeding!" She fled the room and to her own no doubt, to find a salve.

Geralt took notice of the already purple shaded bruise that was forming just under your ear. The back of your hair was matted with blood. Why was he so worried about a complete stranger? How does someone nock themselves unconscious on a salt block? the only one in the paddock? Clumsy, fragile, beautiful woman you must be (Y/N). He was honestly surprised he remembered your name. The house must really have a plan for you in order for this to have happened. Soon Sarah was back in the room. She applied a mushy salve to the backside of her head, "This should do the trick. She should be fine." The look on Sarah's face said something more.

"What is it?," He asked.

"She said she wasn't ready to leave yet... but she wanted to be with us."

"your persuasive skills never cease to amaze me, Sarah."

"Why thank you," She feigned a curtsy. "C'mon Geralt, she'll be okay. There might be some explaining to do in the morning, though."

Geralt hesitantly left your side and made his way to the shower.

Part 5

[inber]

Just a Girl, Part Two

Thanks for your feedback on part one! I meant for this to be two parts, but it’s gonna be three, otherwise it’ll be ridiculously long. This part is from Geralt’s POV and transpires ten years after the first. Let me know if you want to be tagged in my posts, and leave some love! It inspires me to keep writing. Also I know I promised you smut, and I swear it’s coming.

Pairings: Geralt x Reader

Warnings: Very vague mentions of cock, still pretty tame. Confused Geralt.

Word Count: 2444. I was less ridiculous this time, hooray!

Part one here.

It had been close to a decade since you had last seen the White Wolf.

——————–

Geralt dismounted Roach with the slightest of grunts, bolstered by the sight of the busy tavern in front of him. Sometimes he preferred the anonymity that larger cities provided; if he kept his cloak up and stuck to the alleys or the periphery of a room, less people bothered him. He nudged the dozing stable-hand awake, pressed a coin into his palm, and wordlessly inclined his head to Roach behind him. The boy scarpered to his feet. Geralt gave his faithful mare a parting pat on the neck, and stepped into the warmth of the building.

Inside, there was a roar of people cavorting and eating and drinking, oblivious to the world outside, and although it was warm the Witcher did not shrug the hood back from his face. He chose a spot quite close to the door, a shadowy corner untouched by the braziers and the blazing fireplace, and settled in to watch the crowd. It was best to get a read on an inn before you committed to sleeping in it, he thought. Especially when you were an outsider. Especially when you were a mutant.

One of the tavern girls was by in short order to offer him a hefty mug of ale, and he murmured his intentions to stay for the evening, only to be met with a snort. “You and everybody else in this place want a room, Witcher. Are you blind? We’re full.” She gestured vaguely to the room behind her, and he set his mouth in a hard line. This was the second place he’d tried for accommodation, and the likelihood of him roughing it overnight in a stable or someone’s garden was increasing. He dismissed the girl with a grunt, and she flounced away, distracted by the glint of another patron’s coin.

“…And so I’m there, two polished jade orbs from the dragon’s abandoned cache in my left hand, sword in my right, the tip of which was resting between the bandit’s legs.” A voice filtered through the general chaos of the place, and he realised that the majority of the crowd – largely male – were gathered around someone telling a story. He swallowed from his mug and listened. “He threatens to gut me where I stand – not sure how he’d manage such a feat, what with his blade halfway across the cave – and I grin and him and say, ‘I planned on leaving here with two balls, friend.'” There’s an amused ripple across the gathering, “But I won’t hesitate to make it four.”

The crowd erupts into riotous laughter, with mugs clinking in toast and some younger individuals, Geralt noted, crossing their legs in sympathy. He almost smiled, the corners of his mouth threatening to betray him, until there was a part in the crowd, and his keen gaze fell upon the storyteller.

She was radiant. There was simply no other way to describe her. Bathed in a halo of the fireglow behind her, she was chuckling and accepting offers of drink, flushed with life and light and Gods, she commanded the whole room. Somehow there was a familiarity about her that tugged at the back of his mind, but for the most part, he simply couldn’t tear his eyes from her. Someone said something into the shell of her ear and she threw her head back and laughed with freedom, her glossy hair swaying down her back as she did so, and he realised anew why she had drawn such a crowd. Had he not known better, he’d have thought her some manner of siren or nymph.

“You’ve got another admirer, Y/N.” A man announced, all jest in his drunkenness. Geralt flicked his eyes to the stout lush and glared, but the threat escaped the other man as he nudged her. “A Witcher, no less. Hah!” He clapped her on the back as she fixed the weight of her gaze upon this 'admirer’ in the corner, and he watched her freeze up, fingertips tight on the edge of the table.

“Fuck.” He uttered, beneath his breath, like a boy found out with his hand in the cookie jar, and he finally ripped his gaze away, bringing his drink back to his lips. Maybe nothing further would come of this. But where had he heard that name…?

“That is no way to speak of a warrior, Jorren.” The enigmatic woman chastised, clipping the bearded fool with her hand across the back of his head in the same moment that she stood, and he knew this wasn’t going to die quietly. Double fuck. “We have a hero among us this evening!” She declared, raising her foaming drink high, “And we drink to his health. To the Witcher!”

“To the Witcher!” The delighted crowd copied her salute, but they were drunk enough that he supposed they’d declare undying allegiance to a forest frog if she asked them to. He shrunk further into his cloak, as if the massive bulk of him could vanish if he just sat still enough. Around him, people began to laugh and talk again, and he heard the strum of a lute as the bard began to play. He examined the few bubbles still skimming the surface of his nearly-empty tankard, and tried his best to ignore the footsteps that approached him. No doubt some fool wanting to hear a battle story, or a youth wishing to pepper him with questions, or worse – some down-and-out villager with a drawn-out plea that would end in something along the lines of 'will you work for free’.

He was not expecting the weight of a person in his lap, and he almost sloshed the dregs of his drink in surprise, grunting with displeasure as his gaze snapped up, fierce and accusing.

It was the storyteller, the glowing goddess; she’d helped herself to his thighs as a perch, and her pretty smile made him realise that he absolutely didn’t care that there was room beside him to sit. So long as she kept staring at him like that, she could live in his lap.

“Hello, Geralt of Rivia.” She purred, and he’d never heard his name spoken like spun-silk so effortlessly before, spilt from plush lips that were wine-reddened. It didn’t surprise him that she knew his name; it preceded his travels, and he was used to the recognition, as much as he detested it.

“Hello.” He replied, intending to sound stand-offish, but instead finding the gravel of his voice rather warm. “Y/N, is it?” The tavern girl came by again, delivering fresh ale, but he found his hand moving to the curve of her waist instead of the handle of the tankard. It was just to steady her in his lap, he told himself.

Something flitted across her face, something he didn’t understand, but it was momentary; the flirt returned to her half-lidded gaze, and she tilted her head, nodding in affirmation. “That’s me, yes.” Her hand went to his own around her waist, and he thought she might push it off, but instead she shifted in his lap, moving closer to him, sipping from her ale.

“You don’t like regular seats?” He asked, amused, finally allowing the emotion to register on his face. She was warm beneath his hand, and he resisted the urge to trace the slope of her hips. Gods, how long had it been since he had last lain with a woman? The roads had been long, and the ache between his legs told him that he was well overdue for relief.

“Why would I sit on a dirty old tavern chair when I could sit on my very own Witcher throne?” She retorted, and flicked his cloak hood back with her fingers. Her hand brushed against his cheek when she tucked a stray strand of long hair behind one of his ears, and he murmured at the small contact. “And the White Wolf himself. No, I am happier here, but I thank you for being interested in the location of my behind.” As if to punctuate her sentence, she wriggled the spoken asset, and he felt his cock twitch again; it certainly was interested.

“You’re welcome.” Finally picking up his ale, he hid his smirk into the rim of the tankard. “Just so long as you don’t have two jade balls in your left hand, I do not mind the warm lap.”

She giggled sweetly, and he felt something inside him stir at the sound. Did she know how enchanting she was? She had to have known; and yet, Geralt didn’t suspect she used her wiles for malevolent gain. “I am without blade, Geralt of Rivia. I promise.”

“Don’t call me 'Geralt of Rivia’.” He told her, and again, something in the back of his mind tingled; an old memory, the smell of linen and herbs…

“What should I call you?” She asked, leaning forward, toying with the laces of his shirt. He heard the jingle of a necklace loose itself from her blouse, dangling between them, but he was far too lost in her eyes to pay the jewellery any real heed. Her pupils were large in the dark corner they were sequestered in, and the hunger of her expression made him want to throw her over his shoulder and take her to the first room he found, regardless of occupancy.

“Anything you want to.” The timbre of his voice had lowered to a growl, and he could feel the quickening of her heartbeat. His fingers flexed on her waist as he leaned in to close the distance between them, finally seeking to capture those berry lips in a heated kiss, the hitch of her breath satisfying as his lips brushed–

–and she jerked away, leaving his lap empty as she stood before him, one hip cocked.

“What the fu–” “No, Geralt.” She said simply, harshly. He stared at her like a simple man once kicked in the head by a mule.

“What did you think, hmm? That you’d want to be with someone like me? Just a sad little girl?” Her words were mocking and sharp, and there was revenge on her mouth. He opened and closed his own like a caught fish. “I’m not a good woman. Not for you.”

The firelight glinted across her exposed necklace and he blinked at it, the pale grey stone polished to a shine, struck through with veins of gold, and suddenly clarity hit him with the force of a cold wave slapping against his face. So long ago; a healer’s daughter, an uncertain girl with an infatuation, an almost-kiss that he’d so badly wanted to fall into, but had rejected. Oh, Gods. She’d grown into this vision, a fiercely delightful flame of a woman, and now she was throwing old words back into his face.

By the time all of this had processed, she was halfway up the stairs, and he shoved himself to stand. “Y/N!” He called after her, his voice loud enough to draw attention to the whole tavern that turned to gawk at him, all bristling and fist-clenching, before they began to poke each other in the ribs and jest, mocking him. He didn’t even notice; single-minded, he pursued her up the stairs, shouldering patrons out of his way.

“Y/N.” Again he asked for her, and she almost paused mid-step in the hallway, before continuing without so much as sparing him a glance over the curve of her shoulder. He snarled like a wolf chasing prey, and stalked after her, too overcome with the events that had transpired to fully recognise that he had nowhere to take her to speak privately; instead, once beside her, he circled her wrist with his large hand and yanked her into a small curtained-off area, a place clearly reserved for exclusive guests. Before he knew what he was doing, he pushed her up against the wall, hard, and bore his smelted gaze into her own. “What the fuck was that, Y/N?”

She was breathless from the quick movement, the air pushed from her lungs between the wall and the wall of muscle that he made up, but she was grinning. “What’s got you all riled up, Witcher?” Her voice was musical, even breathy, and she slipped a hand between his legs to squeeze his clothed cock. It strained against her fingers and pulsed, hard, and he suppressed a low moan. “Surely you’re not angry over a mere girl.”

“Not while you’re still just a girl.” His words from the past echoed in his head, haunting, but the hand that was on him belonged to a woman, and it was clouding his thinking. “I was protecting you.” He ground out, simultaneously torn between thrusting his length further into her grip, and pulling her hand away. She saved him the trouble by releasing him. “Damn it, Y/N. Of course I wanted you. But you were so unsullied and naïve and I didn’t want to ruin–”

“Did you think about what I wanted?” She interrupted, her words venomous, the smile now vanished from her lips. “Did you think about how I felt? That maybe I should get a say regarding my 'virtue’ that you were so stoically protecting? That I should choose who gets the privilege of touching my body, my heart?”

“Y/N…”

“No. I should thank you, really, Geralt. After you refused me that night, after you made me feel so inferior and small and stupid, I made an oath. I vowed I would never feel like that again. I swore no man that walked this world would ever make me feel like you did.” Her fingers moved to the necklace, to that stone he had left her so many years ago. “I had this made into a necklace so that I’d always remember who I am. I’d always carry the lesson with me.” Fist clenched around the charm, and she smirked. “But do you know what? I don’t think I need it anymore.”

With a hard tug, the jewellery tumbled free from her elegant neck, and she shoved it at his chest. Dumbly, he released his hold on her to catch it, as she stepped away from him. His eyebrows were knitted together, and for the second time that evening, the famous Witcher had nothing clever to say.

Leaving him with the relic of her past, she stormed away from him, and this time he was wise enough not to follow.

(Part three)