Tumgik
#(and he didn't!! not while he was with Geralt! it was Geralt who went to Yennefer-)
spielzeugkaiser · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
[Backstory] - [First] - [Second] - [Third] - [Four] - [Five] - [Six]
I do believe that Yennefer was a constant in Babys life once she knew; even though I think she wasn't there often, because there was stuff happening (with Ciri too; on a bigger scale and sometimes more... urgent) - but she was there when it counted. Yen really went out there and said: I'M YOUR DADDY NOW.
2K notes · View notes
ro-is-struggling · 10 months
Text
Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Tumblr media
Requested by anon
Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)
English is not my first language
Word count: 3900
Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol
Tumblr media
Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 
He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.
The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.
Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.
The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.
She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.
"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."
"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 
"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 
Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.
"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.
She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.
There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.
Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 
Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.
When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.
“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 
"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."
"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.
Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.
He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.
"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."
He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.
Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.
The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.
It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 
He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.
"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.
"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."
Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.
She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.
The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 
"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?
"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.
"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.
"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.
"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 
The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.
"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"
"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 
The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.
He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.
But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.
"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.
"Only time will tell."
3K notes · View notes
shy-urban-hobbit · 8 months
Text
"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."
"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.
"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"
Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.
A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.
"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.
Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.
"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.
He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"
"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.
Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.
"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.
It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.
"I see him! Papa! Papa!"
Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.
"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.
"You're-"
"Hmmm."
Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."
He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.
"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.
"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."
"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "
"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.
575 notes · View notes
scarlet2007 · 8 months
Text
₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.
[ Master list ]
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Tumblr media
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Word count: 3.3k
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.
The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.
"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.
"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.
You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.
"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.
"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.
"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.
Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.
The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.
"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.
"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.
"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.
"Speak."
You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.
"What makes you think that?"
"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.
The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.
Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.
He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.
"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.
"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.
The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.
The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.
"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.
"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.
"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.
"What is it?"
You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.
"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."
The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.
"They knew that there was a beast?"
You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."
The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.
"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"
The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."
The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."
"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.
"It's outside the woods."
"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.
"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.
"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."
"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"
"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.
"Why? Isn't the town safer?"
You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.
Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.
The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.
The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.
As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.
"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.
"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.
The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.
Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.
"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.
You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared.  Oh, you were so so scared.
A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.
You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.
You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.
"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.
"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.
"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"
"Burn her!"
"Kill her!"
Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.
"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.
"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.
"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.
You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.
"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.
"I will keep her."
That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.
He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.
He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.
"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.
The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.
"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.
"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.
The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.
"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.
You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.
"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.
"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.
He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.
"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.
"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.
You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.
"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.
He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.
"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.
After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.
After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.
"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.
"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.
"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.
"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.
"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."
You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"
And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
936 notes · View notes
renren-006 · 1 month
Note
Hi there! I’m an angst addict so I was thinking like a story about the sorcerer ball that Geralt and Yennefer attend in season 3 but with the Reader who is like dating Geralt has to stay behind with Jaskier and Ciri has some jealousy because of Geralt and Yen’s history and starts thinking that our white wolf would prefer her instead….if that makes sense 😭
Preference? | Geralt x Fem Reader
word count: 909
a/n: omg yesss!! i had fun writing this so enjoyyyyy!!
Tumblr media
The ball was that evening, and after the long boat ride and fight you, Geralt, and Ciri had to go through, you were looking forward to it. What you didn't expect was Geralt sidelining you with Jaskir and Ciri. You stood there dumbfounded and Yennifer and Geralt explained that it would make more sense to have more people watch Ciri. You watched him leave that night in an elegant outfit and a single kiss before he went towards the castle.
“He loves you, you know that right Y/N” Jaskir said to you. 
“How Jask. Look at Yennefer. I'll never look like her, and I'll never be as powerful…” you told him. You and Jaskir were best friends before Geralt even entered the picture. He glanced over at you, seeing you go through heartbreak after heartbreak. This time, both of you wanted this to be the last. He hugged you as Geralt disappeared beyond sight. 
Ciri, however, didn't notice anything. Absorbed in her own little world for a bit, or at least for most of the night, she didn't let on that she had been listening to you. She saw the way Yennifer was eying Geralt. It wasn't until a few card games that she talked about it. 
“I prefer you over Yennefer.” She told you. Jaskir looked at you, seeing the smile and shock on your face. “I don't like that he didn't ask you to go.”
“I…I don't either, Ciri” you told the young girl. 
“He loves you. I think he's just being stupid,” Ciri told you, comforting you. The young girl had taken a strong liking to you in the years you had been with and known her. She thought of you like a mother, a guardian, someone she knew would lay down her life to protect her.  You managed to find her before Geralt and keep her safe while helping her find your lover and her guardian. Once you did, it felt like a family reunion. You remember meeting Yen with them and discovering her betrayal. Seeing her now and knowing she was trying to be genuine, you had no reason to worry, yet you did.  The rest of the night was a mix of worry and jealousy. 
You worried he would realize how much better the woman before him that night was than you. How powerful she was and how it barely compared to you. How could she teach Ciri far better than you could about magic, even though Ciri had mastered most, if not all, of what you had taught her so far. You just wanted Geralt to love you for you, and you felt as thought you might always be compared to her. 
When morning came, and Geralt walked through the door with Yennifer, you noticed he wore a different outfit. You glanced at Yennifer, who was doing her best not to look over at you. Her face was flush, and her eyes were cast down away from you. Your worries were confirmed. 
“I knew it,” you said. Geralt's eyes flashed with worry, worry that you had figured it out. You stormed out the back door, and Geralt followed after. 
“Y/N! Y/N/N!” he yelled. Your flowy flower dress flowed in the wind as you continued storming off towards the woods, wishing to be with the trees. Soon after, you fell to the ground in the middle of a clearing, hearing and feeling the forest energy.
“Are you alright?” Geralt asked, kneeling next to you.
“You slept with Yennifer didn't you?” you asked, tears in your eyes. “You know I'm nothing compared to her. How could I ever expect to be better than her? You'll always want her…”
“Y/N that's not true” Geralt said, his husky voice causing you to shiver away. 
“Yes it is” you said, power serging from you, rumbling the woods. “I am nothing compared to Geralt, I have less power, less beauty...”
“Y/N! I told her I wanted to marry you "Geralt said, holding your face in his hands. 
“What?” you said. Suddenly everything in you went quiet, including the world around you.
“I told her I wanted to spend my life with you from now on. That she meant nothing to me anymore.” Geralt's words cut through you. Yennifer's downward look wasn't because she was sorry she slept with him, but because she was sorry she tried to and got rejected. You realize that Geralt's clothes were probably because he was tired from the long night of fighting that Yen lent him clothes, not because he wanted to stay.
“You want to marry me?” you asked him, tears in your eyes
“Yes,” he said firmly. 
“I'm sorry…I was…” you stumbled over words. 
“It's okay. Darling i understand” He said kissing your tears away, “I understand why you got there. Why you think I loved her? I don't”
“I know that now” you said slightly laughing, “I love you”
“I know, darling,” he said. He helped you stand and walk back towards that little cottage with your family inside. Yennifer came over and apologized profusely. She wanted nothing more than to be friends and to set up the wedding. She was happy he found someone like you and that she wouldn't ever get in the way. You were happy your worries were not true and that Geralt was the man for you forever.
112 notes · View notes
on-a-lucky-tide · 4 months
Text
A young, horny Lambert sets his sights on an older hunk of Witcher beef. CW: age gap, flirtation.
"I'm going for it."
"Lambert, don't be a fucking idiot. They'll laugh at you."
"They might, but he won't. You miss all the chances you don't take, right?"
"Your funeral."
Lambert licked his lips and smoothed his hair back as he stood. He hadn't torn his eyes away from his mark for a single second since said man had swaggered into the hall a few hours before. This was the winter he'd do it. He was a man himself now, which meant he had every chance of bagging himself the hunk of good-lookin' he'd been coveting from the moment his dick had started getting hard at night and hair had appeared on his jaw.
Eskel.
It wasn't just that Eskel had two decades on Lambert or that he was becoming a seasoned witcher. No other Witcher in the keep compared. Sure, some tried. They might step toe to toe during drills or try to outflame Eskel's igni, but they never could. The only one that outmatched Eskel was his pale shadow, Geralt. They even looked a little similar. But cream puff was a fucking bean pole of a man, and that shitty headband...
N'aw, Lambert wanted big. He wanted heat, and honey eyes, and that thatch of dark hair he'd seen on Eskel's barrelled chest in the baths, and that huge fucking d--
"You lost, Lambert?"
Lambert blinked. Gweld, the ginger prick, was frowning at him, ale tankard halfway up to his mouth. The others had paused their card game; Clovis looked drunk, Geralt was slouched back trying to see Clovis' hand and Eskel was watching Lambert speculatively.
Watching, with those honey-coloured eyes that turned Lambert inside out. The words caught in Lambert's throat; shit, fuck, why was he so fuckin' stupid the moment Eskel looked at him?
He took a breath, conscious of Clovis elbowing Gweld with a chuckle, while Geralt looked over with a smirk.
Lambert found his words. He folded his arms, thrust his chest out, widened his stance and put on his best cocky smirk. "Was just wonderin' whether Eskel wanted some better company. You losers can't handle your beer at the best of times."
They laughed. Gweld elbowed Eskel who cocked a half smile, eyes rolling not at Lambert, but his friends, proving Lambert's point. Obviously.
"Is that right?" Geralt asked, amusement turning his narrow face bright with a toothy grin. Lambert had been told that as witchers matured they honed their sense of smell, could identify a man's emotions from his body language, the flush in his skin. Lambert knew Geralt had him sussed. "And what kinda company are you offering?"
"Geralt..." Eskel growled in warning, and it went straight to Lambert's groin. Fucking hells.
"Whatever he wants. I'm a man of many talents."
More laughter--"little man has game, shit; fuck, I'm chokin, too funny"--but Lambert wasn't put off. Eskel's eyes were on him, warming him like the sun. The lines around those eyes were wrinkled with mirth, and damn if that smile wasn't snatching the breath right out of Lambert's chest.
"Does your master know you're out?" Eskel asked, placing his cards face down. He leaned back in his chair and slung his elbow onto the back of it, knee turned out while a hand tapped at his drink.
Lambert tried to keep his eyes level and resist the urge to... look. Eskel's codpiece put on an absolutely fucking heroic effort, but it could only hide so much and that was when Eskel was soft. "What he don't know can't hurt him. No business of his who else is in my bed as long as I am."
Eskel pressed his lips together to smother his smile while the others guffawed. More was said but Lambert didn't really hear; he was too focused on keeping his heart from beating out his chest and appearing suave.
Eskel hummed. "Aren't you a little young to be lookin' for that kinda fun?"
"Worried you won't be able to keep up, old man?" Lambert felt momentum. He could do snark, he could meet Eskel on this well worn ground, toe to toe, and the way Eskel's head tilted to the side and his eyebrow rose. It wasn't a no, right? He looked interested. Amused, but he didn't dismiss Lambert outright.
Gweld slapped Eskel on the shoulder with a bark. "Eskel here's got stories that'd make your balls shrivel up into yer belly, lad. I don't think he's a good choice for yer first ride, best drop your ambitions."
"Fuck off, Gweld," Eskel said, but there was no heat to his words. Just wry amusement.
Geralt snorted into his drink and Clovis made a vulgar gesture with his hand, but before Lambert could respond a familiar voice barked through the hall and sucked all the building sexual tension into a vacuum. "Lambert, get your arse to bed, you missed roll call!"
Lambert clenched his teeth, shoulders lifting towards his ears. For fuck's sake...
Three of the witchers in front of him groaned in mock empathy. "Oof, tough break, Lambino. Cock blocked by Vesemir," Gweld said, shaking his head while Geralt and Clovis snickered. "Don't worry, we've all been there. Ain't that right, Gerbear?"
Geralt guffawed in protest and smacked Gweld on the shoulder. It quickly devolved into a wrestling match on the floor, one which Gweld was definitely going to lose. Eskel watched them briefly before he looked back at Lambert. "Another time perhaps," he said, toasting Lambert with his ale. "G'wan, before he decides the target dummies are a little light on straw."
Lambert grunted, frustrated, but stalked away. He'd made inroads, and the way Eskel's eyes had shone, and that crooked grin. Eskel hadn't outright rejected him, hells, he'd--well, that smile... Eskel didn't smile at everyone like that.
Lambert laid in bed with that smile behind his eyes and a hand under the sheets, determined that it would be Eskel's instead of his own by winter's end.
160 notes · View notes
thedemonofcat · 1 year
Text
Any relationship that Jaskier was in had always been a transactional relationship. Over time Jaskier found people liked being around him if he could be of use to them.
At first, the arrangement between Jaskier and Geralt was straightforward - Jaskier would improve the public perception of the Witchers through his music, and in return, Geralt would permit him to accompany him on his travels, serving as inspiration for Jaskier's creativity.
From the beginning, Jaskier considered Geralt a friend, despite the Witcher's repeated denial of their friendship. As time went on, Jaskier began to wonder if Geralt's feelings towards him were genuine and went beyond his usefulness. However, Geralt made his true feelings abundantly clear on the mountain, leaving Jaskier to realize that he had been foolish to believe otherwise.
By now, Jaskier should have realized that no one could ever truly reciprocate his love.
Surprisingly, it took only a few weeks, or at most a month, for Geralt to find Jaskier once again. Jaskier was taken aback when Geralt apologized for his words on the mountain and even more so when he asked to resume their travels together
Jaskier agreed, thinking that they could return to their previous arrangement, albeit with Jaskier toning down his usual behavior. During their travels, Jaskier made a conscious effort to speak less to avoid annoying Geralt too much.
One evening, seemingly out of nowhere, Geralt kissed Jaskier. Looking back, they had been drinking, and perhaps they were both a little intoxicated. However, in that moment, Jaskier passionately returned the kiss with every fiber of his being. It only took a moment before Geralt and Jaskier had sex together for the first time
Initially, Jaskier believed it was going to be a one-time occurrence. However, it kept happening, with Geralt and Jaskier sleeping together almost every single night.
It didn't take long for Jaskier to realize the nature of his and Geralt's new relationship. Jaskier understood that he was there to fulfill Geralt's needs until he reconciled with Yennefer. While it was painful, Jaskier didn't complain because if that was what Geralt wanted from him, then who was Jaskier to object?
He could always pretend that Geralt loved him back.
Meanwhile, Geralt truly loves Jaskier. After the incident on the mountain and Geralt resumed traveling alone, he believed that things would return to normal. However, it didn't take long for Geralt to miss how Jaskier would fill the silence. Soon, Geralt realized that he no longer enjoyed the quiet like he used to.
Geralt managed to find Jaskier once again and was overjoyed when the bard agreed to be his travel companion once more. However, one night, Geralt couldn't resist and kissed Jaskier.
Geralt never wants to be separated from Jaskier again, while Jaskier believes he should leave before he falls apart.
552 notes · View notes
solcorvidae · 4 months
Text
I've been thinking about how Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt all deal with the trials and how it shapes them into the people they would grow to become.
Lambert remembers his past. He is angry, upset, bitter, and vindictive. He's got this fire in him that is only stoked by the pain and suffering forced upon him. He remembers the boys who did not make it: the hell they all had to go through, and he has a complicated relationship with Vesemir that surrounds it. Lambert does questionable things that Geralt is bothered by in his grief and anger. Geralt calls him out for killing in cold blood, needlessly and mercilessly.
Lambert avoids Vesemir at Kaer Morhen and mocks him when he is not around. He may come off as childish and like an asshole, but Lambert knows what he feels. Lambert doesn't lash out because he can't control his emotions or because he doesn't understand the path of least resistance. He knows. He chooses to avoid conflict with Vesemir at Kaer Morhen by keeping out of his way. He knows he can't control his emotions effectively if he is face-to-face with him for too long. He knows, and he isn't stupid.
Lambert talks to Geralt about the trials and the injustice of it all. He probably looks up to Geralt, hoping his brother feels just as angry about it as he does. He went through the Trial of the Grasses twice for Christ's sake! Why is he not more angry? Why is he so apathetic?
And Geralt brushes him off time and time again. Such is life, is his attitude. We all went through it, he says. Geralt can't be upset because there is nothing he can feasibly do about it. He didn't choose to be a Witcher. He wouldn't have chosen this life. He would have some other job somewhere else, just like he told Regis. He can't change the past. He can't go back and fix something he never had control over in the first place. Besides, they can’t inflict the trials upon a new generation of kids, not anymore. It’s in the past now, so why dwell on it? What’s done is done and thank god no other kids have to suffer the way they did. It’s over. It’s time to move on.
Geralt doesn't enjoy fame. He tells Eskel this in To Bait a Forktail. Geralt is the famous twice-grassed White Wolf. He is The Witcher. The famed Geralt of Rivia. He has expectations piled upon him the size of mountains. He's got to be the perfect Witcher, he's got to be a loyal brother, a lover, and a best friend… Geralt had expectations put upon him that set him aside from the rest since he was a kid. He hates it. Underneath the banter and the wit, Geralt accepts that this is his life, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He tolerates it because it is his reality and nothing more. If he thinks about it for too long… maybe it will consume him.
"You remember her?" he asks Eskel about his mother.
Unlike Lambert, Geralt hardly knows what it means to live another life. He doesn't have that following him like it does with his brother. What little he remembers is not enough to erase the apathy drilled into him at such a young age. Maybe he has a more strict moral code than say, Lambert, (or if you want to bring in the other Witcher schools, most of the Cats and the caravan) but that doesn't make him the most ethical person on the Continent. How could you be? After all that he has endured, the things he was taught? Where do you draw the line? He kills monsters, but like in Velen, it's hard to see where the line's drawn in the sand.
Humans are monstrous too.
Eskel, however? Maybe he's jealous. He did everything right, why shouldn’t he be? He is superiorly skilled in magic, one hell of a good Witcher. He has a reputation for it. Maybe he's not as kind as your average person, but he gets the job done. He's got a more relaxed demeanour than his brothers which reveals itself in his reputation. He's reliable. He is damn good at what he does. So why does Geralt get all the attention? The fame? He clearly doesn't want it.
While Lambert got turned into a vindictive prick and Geralt became a quick-witted nihilist, Eskel? He's exactly who he should be. Why shouldn't he be praised for it like his brother? Why should he be forced to bend over backwards to accommodate people and keep up with his reputation? For what? His skills? Ha! He lives in the shadows of Geralt who's notably a good Witcher, but he's not quite as good as Eskel.
Eskel was beaten shaped into the man he is today because of the trials, his training, and everything else. Should he not get credited for that too? Why does someone who doesn't even want his fame get all the recognition? Genetic predisposition? Shouldn't his hard work be given more consideration and praise? Thank god Geralt survived the hell of being subjected to two rounds of mutagens rather than one, but why should that overshadow the efforts, the time, and the sacrifices that everyone else around him has made? Eskel is exactly the man that they intended him to be by the end of it all. He is an efficient hunter, he is outstanding with signs, and he works diligently for his reputation. He did everything right. He does everything right. Why is that not enough?
TL;DR: Lambert, Geralt and Eskel handle their traumas in different ways. Lambert gets vengeful, Geralt gets apathetic, and Eskel gets borderline jealous. (And it breaks my heart)
84 notes · View notes
starfirewildheart · 3 months
Text
Ch 16
Scars and Souvenirs
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,206
Rating: Adult only no one under 18
Warnings: Description of physical abuse, death, torture, medical description 
Five days had passed since the rescue and Sy had managed to talk the hospital into putting Deb and Mike in neighboring rooms when they were out of ICU. Mike had surgery to put pins and plates in his arm to fix it and he was doing well. 
Debbie was just taken down to surgery for her knee.They told Sy they didn't know how long the surgery would take because of the damage done. Walter agreed to stay at the hospital while the guys went to ‘clean up’. 
~~~~~~☆~~~~~~
Sy wiped the blood from his hands on a cloth. He'd spent the last two hours torturing the men who hurt Debbie and Mike. They had received the same injuries and wounds in return plus some payback from Sy. “This is your last chance to tell me everything I want to know or I start removing body parts.” He leaned into Marko's face. He was one of two who'd hurt Debbie so severely.  “I'm going to start with your fingernails then….” He paused and shook his head. “Fuck that, I don't have time for that. I'm gonna start with your balls.” He put on a pair of black gloves and pulled his kbar from its sheath. 
“No, no please! I'll tell you everything!”
Will Shaw stepped closer with a recording device and true to his word the man told them every last detail of the gang and its affairs as well as police involvement in three states. The whole ordeal had taken about three hours and since Walt nor the surgeon hadn't called it meant Debbie was still in surgery. 
They all stepped out of the room and sealed the door. August had found a remote abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, just like a damn spy would, to use as their holding facility. “I have to get back to the hospital,” Sy told them. 
They all nodded in agreement but it was Geralt that spoke. Let's leave them here to see what it felt for Debbie and Mike. Once we find out that he told the truth we will decide what to do with them.” He held up his hand to Stop August. “I know your vote, we all do but it's not a decision for now.” 
“It's the right decision,” August muttered under his breath. Sy chuckled and punched August’s shoulder. They cleaned all traces of blood off themselves and headed back to the hospital stopping along the way to pick up some stuff for Mike.
~~~~~~◇~~~~~~
Mike tensed when the door swung open but relaxed when he saw Sy come in with the others. “Any word? “ Sy asked Walt.
“Nothing,” he shook his head. 
Sy sat a bag of stuff in Mike's lap. “Thought this might help ya pass the time a little faster in here.”
Mike grinned a bit. “Thanks.” He opened the bag and found chips, candy, a book, a few magazines and Sy’s tablet. He figured the kid could at least play some games on it. “Thanks, this will help a lot.”
“Oh and I brought this, “ Sy took out a new smartphone. “Your old one wasn't salvageable. Hopefully you had back ups for most of it.”
“Thanks Sy, you shouldn't have done that. It will be a while before I can get a job to pay you back.”
He shook his head and laughed. “When your all healed I intend to put you back to work on the farm. I mean if you want to.”
“Yes!” redness seeped into his cheeks, embarrassed at how quickly he answered.
“Damn, why do they all like working for Sy?  He's strict as hell and doesn't put up with laziness yet it's always ‘Cap is the best guy I ever worked for.’ ‘Syverson’s unit is the one I want to stay in.’”
August mocked.
“All?” Mike questioned. 
“In the Army,” Sy explained.  “That's where we all met. And obviously August still harbors some jealousy.”
Mike and Walt laughed while the others smirked. “I'm not jealous!” August growled.  
Sy sat down on the bed next to Mike and started flipping through the magazines they brought. “Your protests say you are,” he continued to tease. “What the fuck? How did this get in here?” He held up the naked centerfold from some skin mag.
“What?” August asked innocently. “He's right handed and his cast is on the left.” Sy's glare of disapproval didn't falter. “You said he needed to relax and de-stress! Should I have hired a hooker?” 
Geralt cringed, Napoleon face palmed, Will laughed and Walter did his best to hide his smirk. Sy rolled up the magazine and stood up taking the 3 steps it took to reach August and began to hit him with it. “He's sixteen you asshole. No you shouldn't hire him a hooker!”
They all laughed, including Mike who also protested. “I don't need to pay for it! It's not like when you were a kid.”
That time Sy did laugh as he stopped hitting August. August turned and eyed Mike. “What?”
“You know back in horse and buggy days women were more modest in their floor length skirts and bonnets. You had to drag yourself out from behind the plow mule, all stinky and gross and you could only take a bath once a week..” Mike continued innocently. 
Sy laughed loudly at the look on August's face. “How fuckin old do you think I am?”
“90?” Mike smirked. Quick as a flash grabbed the rolled up paper from Sy and popped (gently) Mike on the back of the head with it. 
“And after I got you something you could use to relax, “ August huffed but plopped down in a chair next to the bed. 
There was a knock on the door and Napoleon opened it to reveal a nurse. She scanned the room until she found the man she was looking for. “Mr. Syverson the surgeon wants to speak with you. Please follow me.” Sy followed her and Napoleon joined him. 
She led them downstairs to the surgery floor to the double doors that led to the orthopedics surgery suite. “I'll tell him you're waiting.”
It was just a moment later Dr. Stinebrenter was standing before him. “How is she? Were you able to fix her knee?”
“I know it's been a seven hour surgery but the knee was even worse than we thought when we got in there.” He stepped over to a nurse's station and motioned for Sy to follow before typing something and showing him 
an x-ray. “This was taken the day she arrived.” He scrolled to a new one. “This was taken just before we started surgery. You see how the head of the femur  and the tibula look cracked but intact and the same with the patella.”
Sy nodded,  “you said you were gonna try everything you could to avoid a total knee replacement because she is so young.” He chewed on his lip.
Stinebrenter nodded. “When we opened her leg and moved the tissue and muscle chunks of the tibia and femur heads broke off and the patella just crumbled. What I did was put a cage around the tib and fib heads. They will have to stay on six to nine weeks to allow the bone to heal so I can try to put a plate on them both for support. So that will be her next surgery. If that doesn't work then we will have to do a total knee replacement. I did have to use an artificial patella. There was no saving it.”
“She has a spiral fracture of her femur. I put plates and screws in it to hold the bone in place as it heals.” Sy was regretting not cutting the assholes balls off today  and choking him with them. “We are going to bring her completely out of sedation so Neuro can do a full assessment and make sure there are no deficits. She will be in a lot of pain but I wanted to ask if you wanted to be with her when it happens?“
“Hell yes,” Sy nodded.
~~~~~~♡~~~~~~
Pain was the only thing that existed the second she became conscious. Suddenly everything came flooding back. The kidnapping, torture, fear,  and pain. She screamed and thrashed around trying to break free and get away. Hands were touching her, holding her down making her fight harder when his voice finally broke through the chaos and cloudiness. Her head turned to his voice. “Sy?”
He grabbed her hand and kissed her forehead. .”I'm here sugar. You're safe now. I've got you. They will never hurt you again.”
She quit fighting and clung to his arm, trembling. “Mike?”
“Is safe and resting in the room next door. “ 
“You?” She rasped. 
“Me, what sugar?” He asked, confused. 
“You ok?”
She had been through hell and she was asking about him and the look in her eyes was so sincere and compassionate that it shattered the wall of strength he'd put up.  He felt the flood of tears slip down his face and soak into the cotton of his t-shirt and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop it. 
She tugged his arm and he willingly crumbled to the bed. “Lay with me baby. Hold me.”
Sy shook his head no. “Don't  want to hurt you.”
She looked to the doctor who called in a nurse for assistance.  He knew what she wanted. They carefully moved her closer to the right-side of the bed allowing  her left leg to remain on the surgery wedge so it was elevated. She held her hands up as much as she could motioning for Sy. He looked to the doctor in question.
“It's fine Mr. Syverson.  It will be good for you both.” 
“But I might hurt her,” he argued. “I never wanna hurt you,” he told her. 
She knew he was barely keeping it together.  “You won't, baby. It's the right shoulder and my leg is up on a wedge so you won't hit it. Please,” She whined.
He relented and laid down next to her breathing in her scent. Even over the smell of hospital cleaners and astringents she still smelled like a fresh, spring day after the rain. Like home and love and safety. He pressed a kiss to her head and hugged her to his chest as gently as he could. It took her moment to find a comfortable position but she settled against his shoulder and chest, his head resting on hers. Once the doctor and nurse left the room he lifted her chin so that she was looking into his eyes the best she could. “We got em sugar. They won't hurt anyone again.”
Tears filled her eyes and she clung to Sy's shirt. “Jennings? The detective?”
“Currently being held by the CIA in protective custody. He's needed to testify in a few cases to shut down what they can of the trafficking ring. The same for Mike's old man, though he managed to get hurt before the police got to him.” He was cut off when she pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Please tell me you had back up Austin. That you didn't risk your own life.”
His eyebrows pinched together with confusion.  “What exactly do you remember about the rescue, sugar?”
“Hearing gunshots and then the most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life; your voice. Then nothing.”
It made sense she couldn’t see because her face was so busted and bruised. “I called the pack.”
She'd met Will Shaw and Napoleon Solo on a mission in Iraq but she'd only heard stories about the legendary Geralt Rivi and August Walker. “They're here? All of them?”
He nodded. “We've been taking shifts with Mike making sure he's never alone. I spend most of my time by your side but when I go check on him two of them sit with you.”
“How long have…”
“Five days. Five of the longest days of my life, praying that you would come back to me.” He cut her off. 
“I'm sorry,” She said pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and wincing as it pulled at stitches there.
“Don't,  you have nothing to apologize for, Debbie. They hurt you!”
“It's my fault,” her eyes filled with tears. “I was distracted.” She traced over the lettering of his t-shirt to try to stop the tremors running through her body.
“This is not your fault and I won't let you think it was,” his voice was deep, firm, and commanding. “The ones  who set this up  Holmes, Jennings, they caused what happened to you and Mike. S18, dirty cops, it just all aligned in a horrible way.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “You need rest, sleep my darling. “
“But..” She tried to protest.
“Rest love.”  
“Not tired,” She pouted.He watched her eyes drift closed as she spoke. 
Tag List
@shellyshellshell
@enchantedbytomandhenry
@mrsevans90
@summersong69
@mollymal
@warriormirkwood
@bloodyinspiredme
@kneelforloki
@liecastillo
@mollymal
42 notes · View notes
the-desilittle-bird · 10 months
Text
AN- Cause I love a good Angst and this song makes me feel the most sweetest of pain.
Requests are always open and well appreciated.
Thank you and Enjoy your reading!
Without Him
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
Summary- Years went by and you come face to face with him again...
(Italics is Past Memories and Bold + Italics is Lyrics)
Tag List- @minaxcarter, @eliseline, @blackhoodlea, @little-moonbeam-666, @neenieweenie, @omgsuperstarg, @avalyaaa, @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @krokietinio, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @thekayarlene, @narcy, @helloitsshitzulover, @muushwrites, @daringboba, @bi2simps, @issybee0611, @yariany02, @agathe, @5moremin, @candypurplebutterfly, @saraelizabeth26, @moon-light1415, @targaryenmoony, @stargaryenxshelby, @instabul, @shine101, @hyacinthus007, @mcam623, @eudximoniakr, @carissa_griffin7777, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon666, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @savagemickey03, @sunmoon-01, @literishdegree99, @watercolorskyy, @Lady-Juliettes, @cherryaemond, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @nats-whore
Warnings- Very angsty and arranged marriages
GIF Credits to @samantadeca-blog
Tumblr media
Zindagi Le Ke Aayehe Hai Beete Din Ki Kitaab
Ghere Hain Ab Humein Yaadein Be-Hisab
Standing at the entrance of Maegor's Keep with his family, Daemon's mind wandered into the alley of nostalgia, reminiscing upon the bittersweet memories of their shared love. All before everything shattered right in their hands.
And now, standing there, he could feel the memories reeling in his mind, reflecting deep into his eyes as he felt the love and the ache of heartbreak from years ago.
Blinking back his feelings away, he felt his heart stop as his amethyst eyes looked upon her magnificent form, mature with years of experience in the foreign lands of Essos alongside her husband. Her two children following her, a spiting image of their mother.
Laughter echoed in his head, a perfect symphony of his and her. Soft moans and whimpers; accompanying his grunts as the nights of their passion together resurfaced.
Daevon, her eldest son, was originally his. He knew that, and so did she. But no one else needed to know of it; not that it is necessary until no one suspected anything.
Bin Poochhe Mile Mujhe Kitne Sare Jawab
Chaha Tha Kya, Paya Hai Kya, Humne Dekhiye
Dil Mein Magar Jalte Rahe, Chaahat Ke Diye
Daemon was young and unaware as he came from Dragonstone, only to be made aware of his sister's wedding to a man who didn't deserve her. No one deserved her; no one but him. But sitting there as Viserys lectured a stoic him and crying (Y/N), he felt the tinge of guilt simmer in him.
"You disgrace me, Daemon! And you had no right to defile our sister but here we are! She is to be married, and you shall remain as far away as physically possible."
Daemon didn't want it; the lecture. He only wanted answers; answer to his many questions: Why can't he marry her? Why is he not compatible enough for her? Who knows her better than him? Who is better for her than him?
But it seemed that he didn't need to ask them as Viserys continued his rambling. "She is far better than you; too pure for your damned soul. You are just a man made ugly by the darkness which lurks in your heart. A darkness I intend on keeping away from (Y/N)!"
In a fortnight, she was married, right in front of his eyes with a grim expression while her husband placed a kiss over her plump and full lips, painted bright rosy. The tears in her eyes gone unnoticed by all but him.
It had been a bit less than a decade since it; since he witnessed that foreign lord pry your legs open, since your sweet, sinful moans turned into small whimpers of pain.
It was cruel; how Viserys thought it right to have the council witness the union being consummated. It was cruel how he had made Daemon watch her clinging onto the pristine white sheets to find a way to cope with the pain.
And even then, he loved her; more than anything or anyone in the world.
Kya Kahoon Duniyaa Ne Kiya, Mujh Se Kaisa Bair
Hukm Tha..? Main Jiyun Lekin Tere Baghair
Her eyes found his in only a matter of seconds, and all which was left unspoken between them were proclaimed, wordlessly yet the tears in them spoke volumes for them.
It was wrong, what happened with them. And especially what happened to (Y/N). Adultery in Westeros committed by a woman meant death but their kind brother let her live... upon one condition.
That order?
Stay away from Daemon; without him.
As if it wasn't death in itself, the swift stab of her eldest brother's words twisting in her hear; only to evoke tears which would never fall.
Love caused them the pain they never wished to experience. To live with a love unrequited; being so close and yet so far. Like the sky and sea. Together but never meeting. A sad tragedy left unsung.
Tere Liye Hum Hain Jiye, Har Aansoo Piye
Tere Liyeh Hum Hain Jiye, Honthon Ko Siye
Dil Mein Magar Jalte Rahe, Chahat Ke Diye
Tere Liye, Tere Liye
She came and she left, like a gust of wind. A strong wind which created havoc in his life and left. And what remained behind was only a letter, addressed to him; sealed in the coal of their house, the three-headed dragon.
"Years ago, he told me that I shall not cry for your sake. That I shall drink down the tears and smile. For sake, I shall keep my lips shut tight, never uttering a word which is nor expected of me. But Dae, the fire of your love still blazes bright in my heart. And it belongs to you and only you.
Perhaps not in this life but in the next. I shall be yours. Body. Mind. Soul."
It was the last thing he heard of her; before the news of her passing came. And the sound of crack was loud, as his heart shattered and crumbled into a zillion pieces.
Without him; she lived and left.
Without him...
144 notes · View notes
spielzeugkaiser · 2 years
Note
there are currently two wolves inside me, one that wants geralt to meet omega!jaskier's and his child while the kid is still young so they'll have both their parents (plus 1 mom if yennefer doesn't resent jaskier) as they grow and another who wants to stick to the show's canon of geralt and jaskier not seeing eachother for 22 years and then one day geralt finds this person with a scary ressemblance to him who says they need help rescuing their dad, a bard who doesn't know when to shut up (besides would be kinda funny to see geralt's reaction to jaskier being basically a dilf lol)
[First Part]
Oh my God in my mind it was the baby version but this also has me at the throat.
There would be a few things at play here like
1. I imagined the baby did not inherit mutant traits (besides some gold specs in his eyes, like, Jaskier had confirmation and once you know it's obvious) and you could hold Geralt at gunpoint he does NOT know how he looked as child anymore. It's absolutely not obvious to him, especially since it's impossible in his head. Only Vesemir would probably go 'oh' at the resemblance because the kid looks exactly like the little one he picked up on the side of a road, over a century ago.
2. Jaskier didn't say something for the last 13/14/15 years of his life, the kid will not go and tell Geralt when his Papa went out of his way to keep this knowledge secret.
Tumblr media
In my mind this has the perfect road trip vibes. And timelines are messy - like Jaskier went down the mountain pregnant it's not 22 years later but who knows what happened inbetween - but Geralt definitely already had all the teenage angst experience with Ciri. He's already a dad!
2K notes · View notes
sammysmaddy · 6 months
Text
Ransom (Geralt x Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: King Bryce, the father of Princess Y/N, wants to marry her off to an enemy in an attempt to reconcile the relationship between the two kingdoms. Geralt of Rivia makes his appearance in perfect timing and Y/N promises to pay him handsomely for holding her as 'ransom'. 
Pairing(s): Geralt x Princess!Reader, OC!Lyd x Geralt x OC!Rosni (mentioned, but not explicitly)
Warning(s): Angst, mention of blood, alcohol, prostitution, p in v, desperate!geralt, fingering, creampie
A/N: There is a noncon version of this story linked if you would prefer that. This is the first I've written for Geralt. I enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it! ;)
W/C: 6k+
Noncon Version
Masterlist
"Hm," The low hum of Geralt's voice filled your ears. While it was one of the few words you have gotten him to say over the course of the past week, if you could even call that a word, you were happy to have your remarks validated nonetheless. 
You walked on the snowy dirt road next to Roach, treading a little bit behind as the horse was much faster. Geralt was adverse to you walking at first, but you had managed to convince him that it would warm your freezing bones. 
Geralt's eyes traveled back to where you were every few minutes, you assumed to make sure you were still there, yet barely acknowledged any of the words you spoke. 
You had learned that this was simply who he was over the past few weeks of traveling with him. And you had also learned to be quiet. This allowed you to enjoy and appreciate the serene atmosphere in silence, which was difficult at first and much different than the lively setting at the castle you call your home. 
You missed your kingdom. You missed the warmth and your clothes, the maids and the dances, but most of all, you missed your father. You never wanted to let him down or make him disappointed, because he was the only person who truly understood the pain of missing your mother. On top of all of that, he loved you more than anyone ever could. 
You knew your father wouldn't understand your dislike for Prince Loren. He was a handsome young man, yet only you could see his arrogance and lack of concern for anyone but himself. So, Geralt was your only option. 
You knew witchers preferred to be paid in gold in return for their bravery, and luckily you had more than enough. You also knew that even though this wasn't necessarily a common task for a witcher, no monster was worth the amount of gold you were willing to pay Geralt for holding you as ransom. 
Your father did not know you devised the plan and he had no clue that Geralt played a part in any of it. Both you and Geralt were free of any accountability and you could both walk away happily. 
You cut your arm as you went, leaving a trail of blood out of your window which was on the second story. You drafted the letter before you left, listing the price of the ransom. You had claimed to be a very powerful force in Prince Loren's kingdom who would, at any cost, kill you if you had stepped foot into the kingdom. 
Listing a bunch of random but reasonable motivations for your own death, you wrote a date to meet two odd months later. Then, you sealed the letter with a stamp you had borrowed from one of Prince Loren's guards. 
You knew your father would pay whatever price he could to have you back. And you figured that it would be a good chance to explore the world on your own without the weight of being a princess.
Now, three weeks later, you could feel the lack of food and mead in your stomach. Your clothes seemed to fit looser from the lack of calories and the constant travel, your feet ached and your shoes were almost completely worn. In addition to your troubles, your company was less than pleasant to be around. 
Your dream of traveling didn't take long to be unattainable, as you were still a princess and Geralt was very obviously a Witcher. You had stopped a few times, sometimes in the brush of a lush green forest and as the atmosphere got colder, you began to stay at a few inns. 
Geralt was antsy at the lack of hunting for monsters, but you did your best to remind him of the handsome pay he'd receive for measuring your safety. He seemed to be annoyed with you most days, but you assumed that was his normal demeanor. 
Luckily for you, there were women at nearly every stop, allowing Geralt to blow off steam and for you to have some time to yourself. 
The next stop was only a day's travel from the next, and as the sun dimmed you knew you were close to your destination. As the road became wider and easier to travel, you started to smell fires being burnt and saw houses lit with candlelight. 
"Where are we?" You asked Geralt, your voice slightly coarse from the cold air and the lack of use. 
"Gelibol," He answered curtly, carefully climbing off Roach. 
You knew more questions asked would not be answered, so you walked next to Geralt and grew more cheerful as you smelt food. The local inn was not hard to find and your stomach ached as you walked through the doors, leaving Geralt behind as he tied Roach up in a stable. 
"What can I get you, princess?" The bartender asked as you sat down. Your cheeks grew red and your heartbeat fastened as you realized you were recognized, but you still attempted to play it off. 
"Princess?" You asked coyly, with a small yet nervous smile on your face. 
"Just something I like to call pretty ladies who walk into my bar," He said with a thick accent, winking at you as you sighed in relief. 
He was handsome, light facial hair, and he didn't smell horrid. If he were dressed properly, he could surely pass as a nobleman. 
"I'll take two of whatever ale you've got," You gave him a small smile.
As he walked away, you glanced across the room, tactfully avoiding any eye contact between yourself and anyone looking in your direction. Of course, the inn was full of men and very few women- all of whom nearly had their breasts spilling out of their corsets. 
Your ale was brought to you and you placed one at the bar seat next to yours as a way to claim it. You didn't have to turn around to understand the silence that took over the inn, knowing that Geralt had made his entrance- his face sure to scare any living creature. 
The sound of his large body slamming down on the stool next to you would have scared you had you not already been used to it. Geralt didn't say a word as he completely downed his ale, signaling to the bartender for another. 
"This one yours?" The bartender looked at you, surely asking about Geralt. 
"She's with me," Geralt answered gruffly before you could speak. 
"I'm traveling with him. Needed a witcher to make sure I don't accidentally kill myself on my journey." You corrected Geralt, giving the bartender a small smile. 
"Didn't realize witchers did anything but stink and kill rotting monsters. This one doesn't smell as bad as the others," He placed down the ale in front of Geralt with a small smirk. Geralt chose to sip the ale rather than down it, glaring at the bartender over the rim. 
"We'll also need two rooms tonight." You announced. "And a bath drawn."
"I've got one room left and enough hot water for the both of you, but the witcher can make do on the sofa." The bartender answered and you nodded your head lightly. "I've also got a few women working tonight who have their own chambers if the gentleman is willing. We like to make sure our witchers get taken care of so that our creatures do as well. And I attend to the ladies before heading home to my wife." He winked at you. 
"Thank you, we'll take the room and the bath," You could tell that Geralt's low gruff was in tune with the idea of women at his disposal, and you chose not to comment at the bartender's last sentence. "And a few more ales."
•••
You didn't mind bathing with Geralt, so long as your backside was turned to him. All of your life you've had time to grow used to being indecent around many people, whether it was alterers or guards- the male gaze never seemed to faze you. 
You did however mind when there were two other women accompanying the witcher. You didn't like the fake laughs they gave or when they asked about the scars, you had heard the stories many times before through previous baths with other women. 
And somehow after every one of these baths, you felt a lot dirtier than you did before bathing. So, you tried to wash yourself as quickly as possible. 
Normally there'd be two rooms for the both of you, but unlike normal, these women had their own chambers for lustful men. You grunted as you climbed out of the bath, annoyed that the business could not have started in one of the women's rooms, and you quickly threw on your robe. 
"To bed, I assume?" Geralt asked as you tied your robe, the two women caressing his chest as you glanced over. 
"Not quite tired, might head down for another pint," You answered in a shrug, slipping your shoes on. 
"Don't," He replied and you rolled your eyes before turning back to him. 
"Geralt, have your fun. I'll be in bed before you've even got to the second one," You gave him a small smile and he grunted lowly. 
"I don't want you down there without me. It's not safe," He hummed, barely paying attention to the other women. 
"Why don't you join us, love? We could use more young, pretty women like you here," The brunette giggled and you scoffed at the idea. 
"She may be too elegant to join whores like us," The second woman joined in but giggled afterward as she returned her attention back to Geralt.
"You really think I'd make it?" You asked jokingly, feeling a strange form of pleasure from being doted on. 
"I think any man would pay a thousand coin just to watch you undress. Of course, you'd make it, love," The first woman commented. 
"I think the women in this town would hate their husbands if she were like us, Rosni. They'd never be home!" The second chimed in and they seemed to be in tune with one another. 
"Well, maybe I'll press my luck and begin my new career tonight," You joked and the women shrugged with small smiles on their faces. 
"No," Geralt chimed in. "No selling yourself and no men. It's not safe, Y/N." 
"I think the 'no men' rule is a little far, don't you think?" You crossed your arms, staring straight back into his glare. 
"Come on, we get by just fine don't we, Lyd? I'm sure Y/N would handle herself quite well." Ronsi spoke up and the other woman nodded. 
You were more than grateful for the women encouraging you, especially so against the witcher. You loved nothing more than winning an argument.
"Rosni and Lyd are still alive and well, I bet I could do the same," You smiled whilst agreeing. 
"I said no," Geralt reiterated, this time much quicker and sharper. 
"That's alright, then. I think I'd much rather receive than give. I don't reckon I'd make it in this line of work." It was partially a lie on your behalf. 
Men could rarely ever do the trick for you, most often you'd end up finishing yourself, but by the Gods, you were going to choose them rather than having those same men pay to have their way with you. 
"Lucky woman. Wish I could say the same, but I have my suspicions the witcher won't be a letdown." Rosni giggled as she turned her attention once again toward Geralt. 
"Sometimes, just sometimes, you get a treat like this man and you know you won't go to bed without satisfaction," Lyd doted on Geralt and you internally cringed at the thought of pleasuring a witcher, someone who knows little to nothing about human emotion. 
"You ladies sound like you're in for a fun night. My night will be just as fun but will rather consist of another ale and then a long rest," You gave a small smile, preparing for your exit. 
"You may have one," Geralt's voice rang around the room. "Then bed. And definitely no fucking innkeeper will attend to you."
"Of course, Witcher," You answered before leaving the room, hearing Geralt's grunt at the nickname. 
You knew Geralt would be too busy to even know whether or not you exceeded the limit he had set for you, there was no sense in arguing with him. 
•••
You had two ales just to spite Geralt, despite becoming completely exhausted halfway through the first. While the bartender became more and more handsome with every sip and you really did want to continue to spite the witcher, you found that your tiredness would overtake your attraction toward him. 
So, you made your way up to the room. The fire was lit and the small snowstorm tapped lightly on the outside of the window, your slight drunkenness made you feel even more at peace. The bed was warm and your belly was full, sleep was imminent and calling your name. 
You climbed into the warm and rather large bed, lying right in the center and wrapping all of the blankets around you. You hadn't gone to bed this satisfied in weeks.
It seemed as though you had only dozed off for ten minutes before you heard those familiar boot stomps on the bedroom floor. You didn't think to open your eyes, partially hoping that you were still dreaming, but large hands slid under your body jolting you awake. 
Before you could respond, you were lifted up as if you were a feather and pushed towards the right side of the bed. You landed softly and the covers were thrown onto you rather hastily. 
The bed dipped as the weight of a witcher began to sit beside you. Watching as Geralt toed off his boots and threw his tunic onto the floor, you felt as though you were wide awake again. 
"I thought they had their own chambers," You mumbled in annoyance and he grunted as a response. "Or I hoped that you would take the sofa, but I suppose this is fine."
"Go back to sleep," Geralt climbed under the comforter, staring daggers at the ceiling.
Your first guess as to why he was grumpy was that the women weren't willing to put up with a witcher, possibly leaving him high and dry. You knew just how difficult handling Geralt in any situation could be. You just stared at him, your eyes not wanting to close. 
His eyes remained focused upward, and you took the opportunity to examine every one of his features. He was handsome, you weren't sure why any woman would deny him- especially for money. 
At first glance, he was rather large and strange-looking, the attraction wasn't immediate. Then, as you traveled with him for the first week, you realized how stunning he was. After that, the attraction faded as you realized how impersonal he was. 
You didn't like feeling alone whilst with someone else, and without Geralt's two emotions he displayed, you would have gone insane. Now, he was just a puzzle piece to your next destination. 
"I can feel your eyes, princess," Geralt hummed, not breaking his staring contest with the white ceiling. 
"Sorry, your hair is just a lot more gray than I originally thought," You poked fun at him, not expecting a response and not gaining one. "But, if it makes you uncomfortable, I too will stare at the wall above." 
You turned your body and looked up, watching as nothing seemed to be happening. Like normal, you assumed Geralt was just lost in his thoughts. You stared for a good five minutes, hoping to become sleepy again. 
"What are you thinking about?" You asked him, the deliriousness of your exhausted yet energized mind becoming apparent. 
"None of your concern," He answered. 
"Will you sleep soon?" You asked, looking toward him again. 
"Will you?" He retorted, but you answered as if he were asking seriously. 
"Probably not. Too many thoughts and too much alcohol inside of me," You answered honestly and he hummed at your answer. "It was a long, but very good day with a happy ending. I'm sorry you can't say the same." 
You felt his unease as his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes shutting for a split second. "Happy ending?" Geralt inquired, which was something he never did. 
"Yes, I had a good time tonight and now I can't sleep," You answered simply.
"I guess you just don't listen, do you?" He replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice. 
"What?" You asked, confusion laced in your voice. 
"Go to bed, princess," Geralt said bluntly as he turned his body away from you, you swore you could see steam blowing out of his ears. 
As you retraced your words, and even your thoughts, you recalled Geralt's clear instructions pertaining to the innkeeper. You quickly figured out that Geralt assumed you had slept with him. 
You didn't want to make your ego skyrocket, but you sensed there was a bit of jealousy coming from Geralt. A jealously that spawned from you having a night full of pleasure and him not being able to. He was just jealous that you had ended up having a good night, even if he was mistaken.
"You're jealous of me!" You couldn't help it. You read him like a book for the first time ever and you were proud of yourself. 
"Go to sleep," Geralt uttered and you smirked to yourself as you stared at the back of his head. 
"I, a princess, but more importantly, a woman, made The White Wolf jealous," You didn't care that his jealousy was based off of something that didn't even happen, you were just excited to produce an emotion from him that wasn't annoyance. 
"I'm not fucking jealous," He said in return but his tone said otherwise. 
"Yes, you are," You retorted, staring back at the ceiling in accomplishment. 
"No, I'm not!" He raised his voice, becoming more apparent in his discontent with you. 
It was almost loud enough to scare you. However, you didn't begin to feel scared until Geralt suddenly sat up and turned toward you. 
"This is all your fucking fault." Geralt stood up and grabbed his tunic off the floor, putting the cloth on before heading to the sofa. 
"What's all my fault?" You asked, less excited than before and more anxious. 
"You. Everything you've done tonight. I was so fucking worried about you whoring yourself I couldn't even-" Geralt stopped himself but you could assume that he was referring toward his lower region, making perfect sense as to how he ended back in the room for the night. 
"I've not done anything, Geralt," You sat up, pressing your back against the wall as you crossed your arms. 
"Did you really get off by letting him have you after drinking more than I asked you to?" Geralt sat on the sofa but continued to face you. 
"No, I-" You began but were interrupted.
"Then why disobey my direct orders? Do you know how unsafe it is for you to put yourself in another man's care, let alone his embrace? You're a princess for fuck's sake!" Geralt seemed increasingly angry with you whilst you attempted to explain that nothing happened in the first place. 
"I wanted him, but I-" You began again, but were interrupted once more. 
"But you, what? How could you possibly justify putting yourself in that much danger?" Geralt stared daggers into your eyes, making you have to swallow that familiar lump in your throat. 
"I got too tired, Geralt. I had two ales and then I went to bed. That's the truth." You replied, deciding to be as blunt as possible so as to not further upset your traveling mate. "It would just have been a bit of fun, nothing you're not inclined to."
"I am stronger than you, you couldn't defend yourself against a gnat," Geralt huffed. 
"The innkeeper was harmless, do you really think he'd harm me after I came here with a witcher? Especially after he offered you his finest women?" You asked rhetorically and Geralt rolled his eyes. 
"That's not the point, Y/N,"
"That's exactly the point, Geralt. You're concerned about my safety and justification over something that didn't even happen, and I'm giving you a reasonable answer." At this point, you knew you were tired. 
You knew the argument was pointless. But you wanted to be right so badly. 
"You should have just stayed with your whores and let me be."
"And you should have never engaged with those whores in the first place," He looked away from you, his jaw tense. 
"Kind of hard when I had to share a bath with them. What does it matter to you anyway?" Your annoyance was growing quickly, the witcher yet to back down from his grumpy state. 
"All they fucking did was talk about you. They talked about your breasts as they had their hands on my cock and talked about how much they wanted you to join us, and now I can't come back here because I-" Geralt stopped before his final explanation, each word uttered leaving you shocked. 
You hadn't been admired by women like that before. Although Geralt was clearly upset with you, you couldn't help but let a smile creep onto your face.
"Because you what?" You asked, that similar cocky feeling slowly creeping back in. You felt an immense boost after hearing the way the women talked about you. 
"Because they laughed at me!" Geralt admitted in a thundering voice, standing up and looming over you. Once again, the happy feelings fled as the scared ones took over. "Fuck." Geralt ran the back of his hand against his forehead, going to sit back down on the sofa. 
"Embarrassed are you, Geralt? What could a witcher possibly be embarrassed of?" You asked, a little scared to do so but your curiosity got the best of you. You just had to know.
"Because I finished too quickly and couldn't get it up again at the thought of you with that fucking bartender. I looked a fool!" Geralt admitted in a huff, with something you had definitely not expected. 
You'll admit it took a second to kick in as you stared right into Geralt's eyes. He wasn't jealous of you having sex with another man, he was jealous of the man having sex with you. 
Not only that but having other women talking about you whilst pleasuring him pushed him over the edge so quickly that it caused embarrassment. You didn't know whether to feel uncomfortable at the thought or incredibly flattered. You had no idea that Geralt thought about you in that way.
You couldn't help the smirk from forming on your face. Your mind raced with all the thoughts of what could possibly come next, and you weren't sure if you were becoming rapidly attracted to him because he was wildly gorgeous, because he seemed to be into you, or because you were deliriously exhausted. 
"A good night's rest will cure all of your frustrations," You hummed, deciding to bask in the attention rather than progress it. 
"If you weren't here, there'd be no frustration at all," Geralt replied, rolling his eyes at your smug face. 
"Luckily for you, another month and I'm off your hands for the rest of eternity," You reassured him.
"Do you understand how you've frustrated me or do you simply not care?" Geralt was still tense, you didn't know exactly how to ease the situation but you felt in no danger. In fact, a small rumble in your core began to flood your senses. 
"You are not the first man to come to me with frustrations and you won't be the last," Giving him a small smirk, you slid down into the comforters once again and closed your eyes. 
You knew you weren't going to bed, especially not after having a witcher confess his attraction toward you. You were simply teasing the man until he grew the balls to say something of substance. 
"You're... you're just going to go to sleep? After all of this?" Geralt asked, you could hear him becoming more desperate by the tone of his voice. 
"Yes. That's what you've asked me to do and I'm doing it. I'm obeying, you were displeased when I didn't do so earlier." You answered simply, trying to fight the small smile on your face. 
"Y/N," The witcher growled lowly, trying to gain your attention. 
"Geralt," You answered in a similar tone to which he grunted at. 
"I need your help," Geralt admitted in a low voice, like he was ashamed to say it. 
"And why should I help you? I'm already paying you in more gold than you could imagine," You replied. 
"Because you and I are traveling together for the next month and we're both bound to need some sort of release," Geralt tried to rationalize. 
"Almost a fair argument, but you're going to have to give me an even more legitimate reason," You could have given in much earlier, but you were relishing in the desperation. 
"Because I have never fucking wanted anyone more badly than I want you. No one has ever entranced me as you have, not even people I've loved before." Geralt's words tempted you to open your eyes, and you were met with soft yellow ones. It was the softest gaze you've ever seen the witcher give. 
You sat there for a second. Narrowing your eyes as you looked at the expression on Geralt's face. With the tiredness and alcohol consumption combined, you found the witcher attractive now more than ever. 
"Fair enough, but don't tell me you love me or you'll ruin the mood," You said teasingly, watching as his brows furrowed in anticipation as you stood up. 
You only had to untie your robe to be fully naked and as the soft cloth fell to the floor with a swift motion, you watched Geralt's eyes as he seemed to take all of you in. You made your way over to the sofa, taking your seat on Geralt's lap as he slowly began to lose his tenseness. 
You didn't say a word at first, only examining Geralt's facial features as your fingers combed their way through his silver hair. He seemed to be content with the silence. 
His lips inched closer to yours ever so slightly but before they could touch, you pulled back. You looked down at his tunic-covered chest, deciding to pull the edges over his head until it was on the ground. 
You grabbed his wrists, placing his hands on the parts of your hips where you wanted them to be, slowly stroking his arms all the way up until his neck. 
"We play by my rules, Witcher," You demanded, cradling his face between your hands. 
You weren't sure how he'd act if you took control or if there'd be an issue between your dominances, but as you felt him throb underneath you, you knew he was so desperate for you that he didn't care how it happened. 
After a few seconds of letting anticipations rise, you tilted your head to fit with his. Your lips collided at a fast pace, the both of you hungry for one another. His lips were softer than you had imagined, much plumper and luscious as well. 
Geralt's hands began to roam up and down, your body covering itself in goosebumps as your nipples became erect. Geralt seemed to sense this immediately, his right hand traveling to play with your breasts one at a time. 
You slowly rocked your hips against Geralt's covered crotch, moaning slightly into his mouth each time his member moved underneath you. Your head tilted backward as Geralt pressed your core firmly onto his and you couldn't help but let a louder moan escape, his mouth latching onto one of your nipples as he began to suck. 
Your fingers ran through his silver hair, the heat in your core rising due to the friction of your body against his. Geralt's hands grabbed your ass, spreading your middle even deeper onto his own. You were surely wet enough to have left a damp spot on his pants, and the hum of his moans against your breasts was enough to make you tremble. 
Tilting his head up with your index finger, you kissed him one last time and his lips chased yours as you climbed off his lap. You laid back, propped up by your elbows on the sofa, suggesting how you wanted Geralt to take you. 
Geralt gave you a slightly devious smirk which confused you before he placed his forearm over your abdomen. You writhed a little before realizing it was no use and that you were somewhat trapped, the juices flowing out of you a little faster as tensions continued to build. 
Geralt kept his arm over your stomach, looming over you as he began to kiss you feverishly. You desperately awaited for him to unbutton his slacks, but instead, his fingers began to easily slip up and down your completely drenched pussy. 
Geralt's thumb somehow knew exactly where your weak spot was as he began to trace circles on it. His index finger found your welcoming hole and began to pump in and out of you at great speed. 
Geralt smirked into your kiss as you tried to manage breathing, kissing him, and moaning in pleasure all at once. He knew exactly what effect he was having on you, yet didn't allow your lips to leave him for even a small breath. 
"Luckily for you," Geralt eventually let up, adding a second finger before pumping furiously. "I prefer to give."
You couldn't even reply before his lips were back on yours and his thumb began moving faster over your bundle of nerves. You could feel that familiar bubble boiling in your stomach, your climax sure to make you burst. 
"Geralt!" You whined into his mouth as your body began to try and retaliate against his touch. His strong arm kept you in place until you felt like you were going to erupt. 
"Let it happen, Y/N," And as if it were on queue, the rubber band inside of you finally snapped. 
You took a big breath followed by a long gasp mixed with a moan. Your body began to shake as Geralt's fingers continued to assault your body, you felt as though the forearm keeping you in place was going to bruise your abdomen. 
"Geralt, please," You tried your best to keep up with his fast-paced lips against yours, pushing your hands against his chest as the continuation of your orgasm began to become too much for your body. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to remember how to breathe. 
"We're playing by your rules, remember? You like to receive and that's exactly what's happening." Geralt's fingers seemed to be entirely unfazed as he continued to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Only when you began to whine a bit did he finally relent. "What do you want, princess?" He asked with a smirk, seeming to be extremely content with your desperation. 
"I want you inside of me," You answered, knowing damn well you were no longer in charge of what was happening. 
You were still riding the high of your climax, but you knew undressing Geralt would give you the time you needed to recuperate. Propping yourself up, you began to help Geralt with his pants. Your nimble fingers quickly got the buttons undone before his large ones could even begin to struggle with the task. 
Although you could see the large imprint behind the cloth, when Geralt's pants began to slide down his legs your eyes went wide. You shouldn't have been surprised that a man like Geralt was specially gifted, but it caused a slight nervousness to race through your mind. 
"Think you can take it all, princess?" Geralt cockily glared down at your shocked state. 
"Fuck around and find out," You replied to which he jumped at, pumping his cock in his hand a few times before guiding it toward your entrance. 
You spread your legs wide enough to accommodate him and moaned in sync with Geralt as he slowly slid into you. Once you felt fuller than imaginable he slid a few inches deeper, pressing the weeping head of his cock against your cervix. 
Nervousness and anticipation began to ensue, you had never had a man quite as large as the witcher, but as he began to work himself in and out of you- you felt nothing but pleasure. 
"Fuck," One of Geralt's favorite words, began to flee his mouth at a constant pace. He started the pace slow enough for you to get used to his size, but he began to move faster as he moaned louder with immense pleasure. 
You gasped as his large hands gripped under your knees and pushed your legs toward the sofa your back was resting on. With the new position, Geralt began to hit places inside of you that you didn't even know existed. 
Sweat droplets began to form on Geralt's body, most noticeably on his forehead and chest. His eyes traveled back and forth from watching himself slide into you to your colored orbs. As your eyes met again, he examined you for a second before crashing his lips down onto yours. 
"Geralt!" You couldn't help his name from escaping past your lips again. 
The intimacy mixed with the body heat mixed with the way his cock began to build yet another climax was almost an overload. 
"I've wanted to fuck you like this since the moment I saw you in that fucking castle," Geralt began to sound more primal and his hips began to snap faster, bottoming out with every single thrust. 
You moaned your reply, any words would have come out incomprehensible anyway. Geralt's thumb found your sweet spot again as he continue to attack you with his cock and his lips like there was no tomorrow. 
"I want you to cum on my cock," Geralt grunted between peppered kisses. 
"No promises," You said shakily, clearly lying. 
This only motivated him to work harder as his thumb began to move in a way that was sure to have you coming undone in less than a minute. 
"Oh, fuck!" You whined, tears forming again, as you felt the rubber band snapping too quickly to begin to even try to hold off your orgasm. 
"That's it, princess. Just like that," The praise flooded your ears, officially pushing you over the edge. 
"Geralt!" You chanted over and over. Your hands found Geralt's rock-hard biceps, holding onto him to relieve some of the tension as your climax hit you like a tonne of bricks. 
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so fucking hard." He exclaimed, every vein in his head a little more prominent. If you weren't aware of the context, you'd assume he was in pain. 
Geralt's once relentless pace began to get sloppy, yet his thumb continued to work its magic. Your body began to shake and you were quickly becoming overstimulated, but you knew he was near completion. 
"Cum inside of me, Geralt," You eased him on and his eyes tightened shut as he thrust a few more times. 
With one particularly harsh and deep thrust, the both of you yelled out in pleasure as you felt his hot load spill inside of you. Geralt stilled, still deep in you, and continued to groan out curse words as his climax washed over him. 
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was as soft as before, and he reached down to give you a small, intense kiss. You could feel his small chuckle against your lips and the smile that spread across his face. 
"Maybe I'll keep you around and forget about the ransom." 
•••
If you'd like to read the noncon version next, here it is!
127 notes · View notes
fandom-junk-drawer · 1 year
Text
The Witcher Headcanon - Mistakes
(More Feral!Jaskier)
Jaskier usually spent his winters in Kaer Morhen. He liked the illusion of solitude, where he could drift around the endless corridors, letting his mind wander and invent scenarios that he could use to inspire ballads and poems.
He could stay up into the wee hours every night, scribbling away in his notebook as the muses whispered to him in the quiet of his small room.
He could sleep late into the morning after the muses finally allowed him to sleep, and then drag himself down to the Great Hall for some strong tea and whatever was left over from breakfast.
He could spend a few hours with his Witcher friends, laughing, telling stories, and helping with chores. Witnessing the brotherhood humans didn't think them capable of.
He could stare out the window, singing softly to himself, working out a tune or the lyrics to a song.
He could scribble down random thoughts inspired by watching the sun move over the landscape, or from the feeling of the snow falling on him, or the sounds and sights he experienced while riding with Geralt in the woods around the Keep.
The way the snow clumped on a branch, the sound of Pegasus's hooves in the snow, the crisp chill of the air on his cheeks, the silence of the woods as the snow fell around him, all of it was fodder for his creativity.
He could live in a room that was a mess of scattered piles of parchment organized in a way that only he understood.
He could forget to eat, and comb his hair, and shave, and change his clothes for days at a time. There was no one there who would care if he let his personal standards of grooming slip.
He could live his lonely, tortured artist aesthetic to his heart's content.
But then, one winter, his pleasant routine was interrupted. There had been a few times when the subject of Jaskier being able to defend himself had come up. He had always bushed the conversation off.
Bards were an important part of society! They were the Keepers of History! News Bringers! Stewards of The Arts! King-Makers! They were practically a protected species! Besides, who would dare harm a bard who is friends with a whole pack of Witchers?
Inspite of his protests, Jaskier still found himself being pushed out to the training grounds at the ungodly hour of almost noon. Coen was determined to teach him at least some basic sword skills.
Jaskier had stood there shivering, and holding the wooden training sword out at arm's lenght as if it were a snake that might curl up and bite him. He'd whined and complained while Coen showed him how to hold the sword, and adjusted his stance. Jaskier continued to natter on as the Witcher took him through a few basic moves.
Coen had tried giving Jaskier different weapons. The bow had been a bad idea. Jaskier's aim was so bad it was almost comical. Coen hadn't even dared to think about handing him an axe, or a spear.
Coen found himself growing incresingly frustrated with the bard as the weeks went by. Jaskier showed very little improvement. He spent the majority of the training time whining about training, making jokes, and putting in lackluster effort.
Jaskier had shown only mild interest in each of the weapons. It was the novelty and an interest in the physics and mechanics of the weapon that grabbed his attention. When it came to seriously training with one, the fun went away, along with Jaskier's interest.
The other Witchers would sometimes come along to watch and offer unhelpful advice, make jokes, and try to encourage Jaskier.
Lambert could always be found watching the awkward training sessions. It was good entertainment. And then things got really interesting.
Coen was chasing Jaskier around the courtyard, trying to get him to use some of the moves he'd been showing him. He was usually a patient teacher, but Jaskier had a knack for being incredibly irritating.
Maybe it was the way he acted so fussy and prissy, as if his hands were too delicate to hold a training sword. Or the way he babbled ceaselessly, making jokes or complaints. Or perhaps it was how he seemed so flippant about being able to defend himself, as if he refused to acknowledge the imprortance of it.
Coen finally lost his patience. He started getting into Jaskier's space, pressuring him. The bard had squeaked and backed up, swinging his wooden training sword wildly. He'd yelped as Coen smacked him with his sword, giving him a surprised look. He'd backpedaled, holding his arm, and Coen had hit him on the thigh, then sent him sprawling to the ground.
Lambert had stood up, uneasy as Coen swung down at Jaskier's head, growling at him to get up as the bard scrambled frantically to get out of the way.
"Get up you lazy s*d! Do you think this is a game? Do you think I'm doing this for fun?" Jaskier had swallowed, twisting up to his feet and yelping again as Coen hit him across one shoulder. He was covered in bruises, some old, some very new, and they ached in the cold. He barely got his sword up in time to haphazardly block Coen's next swing. The Witcher contined to go after him, "Stop running away and start fighting back!"
"Coen, stop! I don't want to-!"
"Geralt and Yennefer aren't always going to be there to do the fighting for you!"
"Coen," Lambert said, an odd note of warning in his voice. "He's a bard, not a Witcher. He hasn't been in anything more dangerous than a drunken bar fight."
"And that's why he needs to learn how to actually fight! He might be able to handle a drunk, but a sober enemy is another matter! He can't spend every fight he gets in flapping around uselessly like a terrified chicken while Geralt or Yennefer do the fighting!"
Coen went after the bard, driving him around the courtyard, not letting up. Jaskier frantically stumbled back, parrying and trying keep his feet. His mind was a storm of panic. He needed to get away from Coen fast, or things weren't going to end well. He desperately looked for an escape route, tried cricling to the doors to the Great Hall, but Coen was always there, blocking his way.
The bald Witcher pushed him towards a corner. Jaskier yapped as Coen hit him hard on the side then shoved him into the wall.
"Coen, back off! He's-!," Lambert warned, having seen a familiar look in Jaskier's eyes.
"F**k off, Lambert!"
"No, you ar*ehole, listen-!"
"I said to f**k off!"
"Fine. It's your funeral," Lambert muttered, crossing his arms and leaning against a training dummy.
"Coen, stop!" Jaskier pleaded, a weird edge to his voice.
"Or what? What are you going to do? Go crying to Geralt or Yennefer? You think an enemy is going to politely wait until they get there?" Coen growled, shoving him roughly.
"Please...just stop..." Jaskier had said quietly. Tears started welling up in his eyes.
"Don't start that crying sh*t! You aren't getting out of this!"
Coen shoved Jaskier into the wall again and cuffed him hard on the ear. Jaskier let out a surprised sob, trying to curl in on himself, one hand going up to hold his ringing ear.
"Yennefer is going to-!" Jaskier began.
Coen slapped his hand down and grabbed his jaw, pinning his head to the wall. "Going to what? Be mad? Go ahead and cry for her, I'll kick her a*se around the yard too!"
And that was when Jaskier snapped.
He twisted and bit The forearm Coen was holding him with, the shoved the Witcher away.
Coen saw the flash of the push knife barely in time to avoid being gutted. He staggered back, bleeding but with his guts still on the inside.
Jaskier switched the push knife to his off-hand, scooped up his dropped training sword, and slammed the pommel hard into the crest of Coen's hip bone. Coen cursed and went down as pain exploded in his hip.
Lambert ran to help, yelling for Jaskier to stop, and had to twist abrutly to the side to avoid the thin throwing knife that whistled past him. The little sh*t had throwing knives too?! F**k!
Coen kicked Jaskier away from him, groaning as the pain in his left hip flared sharply. Jaskier rolled in the snow, gained his feet, and jumped on Coen.
He was going for another push knife when Coen smacked him hard on the side of the head with the flat of his sword.
Jaskier reeled, disoriented, and dropped his knife. Lambert kicked it away, and helped Coen pin Jaskier face down on the ground.
The bard was still trying to fight them, even though his head was swimming from the blow.
"What the f**k?" Coen panted, checking his bleeding stomach, leaning heavily on the struggling bard. The wound wasn't too deep, but it would need stitching. His hip, on the other hand was killing him. "What the absolute f**k?"
"I told you to leave him alone!" Lambert panted back. "Did you think I was joking? You alright?"
"Yeah, just a cut and I think I have a hip pointer. Mother of-! Yeah, " Coen said, lightly touching the large hematoma on his hip, "It's definitely a hip pointer. F**K it hurts like a b*tch!" Coen paused as something Lambert said caught his attention. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you, you ar*ehole!"
Lambert shrugged. "I tried to warn you, but you know, sometimes you just have to learn from your own mistakes."
"You're such a jacka**!"
"Calm the h*ll down, you daft b**tard! " Lambert snapped at Jaskier, who continued to desperately struggle and snarl. "We aren't trying to hurt you!"
"Aww, f**k, he's bleeding!" Coen said, spotting the bloody bruise on the side of Jaskier's head. He scooped up a handful of snow and gently pressed it to the lump. Jaskier flinched, then got quiet, distracted by the coldness of the snow. He lay still, letting the cold soothe the intense ache in his head. His head was swimming, and he felt nauseated. Familiar voices were talking to him. His bruised brain recognized the faces leaning over him. Friends! They looked worried...oh d*mn, something was wrong with him!
Lambert and Coen cautiously rolled him onto his back. Jaskier blinked and squinted, then reached for his head with a pained moan. "Shhhh, here, Songbird," Lambert said, holding a fresh handful of snow to his head wound.
Jaskier flinched and clutched at Lambert's sleeve, fear and confusion swirling in his dazed, unfocused eyes. "Easy, easy! It's alright!"
"We should probably get Geralt."
"He's going to be p*ssed!"
"You want to get Yennefer instead?"
"F**k no!"
"Eskel?"
"He went out hunting,"
"D**n it!"
Jaskier, throughly concussed, disoriented, scared, and in pain, called for the only person his foggy brain could remember at the moment. Unfortunately, his bruised brain was having trouble matching a name with Vesemir's face. What was it again? Oh, Yeah!
Jaskier's mouth worked for a second, and then he whimpered, "pA!!!"
Lambert and Coen felt the panic only older siblings feel when they 'accidentally' cause their younger sibling to start crying. Lambert slapped a hand over Jaskier's mouth and hissed "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh! You're okay! Shhhhhhhhhh! " He and Coen sat absolutely still. Listening.
"It wasn't very loud...maybe he didn't hear...."
Vesemir: *busy roasting some venison*
Vesemir: *hears The Voice Crack*
Vesemir's brain: *Mental image of baby!jaskier*
Papa Vesemir: I must go! My adopted grandpup needs me! *yeets his hand embroidered "I'll Feed All You F**ks' apron and flies to the courtyard*
Coen and Lambert were just about to relax when Vesemir was suddenly there, looming over them. And if that wasn't bad enough, Geralt appeared barely a second later with an unhappy growl.
Lambert looked at Coen and knew he was thinking the exact same thing: Oh, we're f***ed!
Coen was lectured by Vesemir as his injuries were treated, while Lambert escaped the dressing down because he was considered an innocent bystander who'd tried to help. He spent his time helping Geralt clean up Jaskier's head wound and get him to drink a watered down healing potion to take care of his concussion.
Coen had limped in later, to see how he was doing, and found out that Geralt, Aiden, and Lambert all knew about Jaskier's feral side. They showed him their scars from their encounters, except for Lambert ( because his weren't in a place that he could exactly proudly display), and Aiden, who didn't have any scars because he had been present when Geralt had gotten his.
They then swore him to secrecy, as was the tradition now. Eskel would have to find out on his own not to f**k with the bard.
253 notes · View notes
flowercrown-bard · 1 year
Note
From the prompts list if you are still doing it. #10 Please - Always finding excuses to stay with each other with Geraskier. If not no worries. Thank you and have a great day.
Thank you for the prompt! Sorry it took me so long to get to it
Geralt didn't get it. A decade ago, perhaps it would have made sense, but after Blaviken? It didn't make any sense why a human would insist on staying with him. 
The first day, Geralt merely watched the bard with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to slip up and reveal the real reason why he kept following him. Waiting for the knife to be pulled on him. 
But of course, the bard didn't carry a knife and even if he did, he was more likely to hurt himself than to do any harm to Geralt.
So Geralt kept waiting.
Tomorrow, the bard would be gone. Surely. 
-
"I'm afraid Roach has nominated me as her new best friend and it would surely break her heart if I left," Jaskier said as he bribed the mare into showing some tolerance for him by sneaking her an apple. "You can't seriously expect me to hurt a lady's heart like that.
But just the day before, Geralt had returned to camp only to find Jaskier scolding Roach for chewing on his clothes and telling her that she was the most uncivilized horse on all the continent. There was no love lost between the two of them. So clearly, Jaskier was lying about the reason why he had to stay. 
Geralt just didn't know why. 
-
He still was there by the time the new week rolled around. Geralt could be a patient man. He had to be, for when he had to wait for hours until a monster showed up.
But this was grating on his nerves. It would have been easy to say that Jaskier was the thing aggravating him, but really it was the not-knowing, the not-understanding. 
So Geralt waited. He could be a patient man.
-
"There's truly nothing as convenient as having a traveling companion who can hunt for food," Jaskier would declare, or "You really are the best at finding spots in the wood where the ground is slightly less hard. I'll have to stay a while longer, just so I get some good sleep." 
It was bullshit and they both knew it. After Jaskier's damn song had taken off, he had more than enough coin to rent a room at an inn - hell, there were even some taverns where he was offered room and board for free as long as he performed. There was no reason for him to put up with the hard ground of the forest or the unseasoned meat Geralt cooked. 
Clearly, Jaskier was making up reasons to stay. 
Geralt just had no idea what the real reason might be. 
"No, I don't mind wandering the woods with you," Jaskier lied, "In fact, it might be for the best if I avoided towns for a while. There might be some nobles whom I've not-so-accidentally insulted. No, best I stay away."
Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. It wasn't a lie exactly. By now he knew Jaskier well enough that he could tell that there definitely was a number of people who wanted the bard gone. Geralt's first instinct was to think that he understood that inclination only too well. But that hadn't been true for quite a while.
It didn't matter. What mattered was that Geralt knew for a fact that Jaskier didn't care about who he had pissed off or in how much trouble he was. His own safety could not be the real reason why he stayed with Geralt. After all, what could be more dangerous than being with a witcher? 
For a moment, Geralt contemplated saying these thoughts out loud, but the words wouldn't leave his lips. Jaskier might take them too heart and what would Geralt do, if Jaskier decided that there really was no sensible reason for him to stay? 
So Geralt banished all reason from his mind. 
"Come on then," he said as he lead Roach off the road. "Better stay close so I can make sure you cause no more trouble." 
After the sixth month came and went, Geralt decided that he had been a patient man for long enough. He was itching with unease. 
At first, he told himself the feeling came from wanting the bard gone, but the more time he spent with him, the more he realized that it was quite the opposite. 
For as much as the bard was annoying and inconvenient and overall a nuisance, Geralt found himself dreading the day Jaskier would leave. 
Because Geralt didn't understand why he was staying. So he didn't know what he could do to make sure Jaskier continued to stay. 
So there was only one thing he could do: Until he figured out how to keep Jaskier from leaving, Geralt simply had to take a page out of the bard's book and make up excuses for why they shouldn't go their separate ways just yet. 
He was determined that one day, he would find out the truth. And maybe, once he stopped focusing so much on why Jaskier wanted to stay with him, he could finally ask himself why he wanted so desperately to stay with Jaskier as well. 
180 notes · View notes
kueble · 1 year
Note
Congratulations!!! How exciting!!!
Has anyone sent in Teardrops on my Guitar? For geraskier?
(also if you were looking for smutty asks specifically then feel free to ignore this 😂😂 I realize that's a hard one to smuttify)
Thank you Comfy! I went with angst to fluff, so I hope you like that.
Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 Words.
Geraskier
---
Jaskier didn't mean to start avoiding his best friend, but once you start pulling back little by little, it just happens. Gone were the days in college where they were attached at the hip, Jaskier cheer-leading on the sidelines while Geralt played football. Hell, they even shared a dorm room junior and senior year. They had carried that momentum right into a shitty two bedroom apartment the day after graduation. They were some of the best years of Jaskier's life.
It had been so amazing that he came close to confessing his feels, almost on a daily basis. But no, Geralt met Yennefer at a work event and they struck it off like a match on fire. She is a fierce woman, a fiery ball of energy and sass, and there's no way Jaskier could compete with that. He doesn't hate her for loving Geralt, though. It's hard not to.
Trust him, he's tried.
Hell, Jaskier was best man in the wedding, playing his part with a fake smile on his face. Nothing could keep him from making sure Geralt was happy, not even giving him away. Two years later, he's stuck in a lonely studio apartment and hardly bothers to text the man he's been in love with for ages. It hurts, but he can't bear to see Geralt's secret smile directed at anyone but him. It's selfish, but he hurts so much that he cries himself to sleep some nights.
All this yearning and depression has done wonders for his musical career, though. He's in talks with an indie label and hopes to get something signed soon. The local crowds adore him, and it's not hard to plaster a smile on his face and put on a show. The audience never realizes the smile doesn't reach his eyes. It's just another part to play, one he's perfect at.
So here he is, sitting on a stool in the corner of a packed bar on New Year's Eve, singing his heart out. He tries to stick to the upbeat, positive songs, but his fans know him better than that. He finishes August, every ounce of heartbreak he has clinging to his words, and he hopes the next request is for something more cheerful.
But then someone shouts out "Teardrops!" and she looks so pleased with herself that he can't help transitioning into the first verse.
“He looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see that I want and I'm needing everything that we should be. I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about, and she's got everything that I have to live without,” he croons out, and the bar starts swaying along with his guitar. It’s so easy to fall into the song, to let his mouth and fingers move on muscle memory. He still feels every bit as sad as the night he wrote it, but these people will never know who it’s about. His heart is safer that way.
The girl who requested the song is belting it out, and for a moment he feels like he's on top of the world. No matter what a disaster his personal life is, he gets to hop on stage and entertain people who love him for him, and they can't take that away from him. He could probably survive on just this, may have to actually.
But as he scans the crowd, he almost drops his guitar. Bright purple eyes stare back at him, and Yennefer raises her cocktail glass in greeting. He can feel his cheeks heating up, but he keeps singing. He tries to avoid her gaze, but it's like watching a car crash, he can't pull away. The start of the last verse falls past his lips, and he knows that she knows exactly who it's about. "'Cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar. The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart."
He finishes the song and mumbles something about needing a break and a beer before making a beeline towards Yennefer. Once he gets there, he isn't quite sure what to say. She's standing at a high top table, all stunning and glamorous, and he is pretty sure he hasn't washed these jeans in over a week. Thankfully she hands him a glass of water before breaking the silence.
"You look truly awful," she says, and Jaskier just snorts.
"And you look like your age is finally catching up with you. What are you doing alone on New Year's Eve? Don't you and Geralt usually do that fancy big band dinner downtown?" he asks, priding himself on not tripping over his insults. He doesn't mean any of them, but the playful taunts are how they work. She shakes her head and takes a long sip of her drink.
"I'm fucking my secretary, and we're getting a divorce. It's completely amicable, but I figured I owed it to you to let you know. He's been moping around the house these past few months, you know. Completely pathetic. A grown man shouldn't pine so much," Yen says with a twinkle in her eye.
"P-pine?" he manages to choke out, and she just rolls her gorgeous eyes at him.
"Neither of you are very subtle, you know," she says, shaking her head. "Geralt and I never should have been more than friends, and I know that now. But you still have your chance, so don't waste it. He misses you, and for some stupid reason I want you both to be happy. So don't waste tonight, Jaskier."
"I'll try," he mumbles, still not sure of what is happening to him.
"He's staying home tonight. Alone. Don't fuck it up," Yennefer informs him before tossing back the rest of her drink. She leaves him there, sauntering over to the bar and wrapping an arm around a pretty woman with chestnut hair. They look good together, and Jaskier truly wishes her the best.
He'd run right out the door, but he can't skip out on a gig. He's on contract until 11:30 when the house DJ will take over for the countdown. Checking his watch, he vows to make the last hour count. He's met with drunken applause when he jumps back on stage and snags his guitar with renewed energy. A man in the crowd winks at him, and Jaskier doesn't miss a beat, just blows him a kiss before rolling right into Blank Space.
Everyone goes wild, and he plays his heart out for the rest of his set.
He normally sticks around after a gig, just soaking up the praise from the crowd and enjoying the free drinks, but tonight he packs up his equipment as quickly as possible and races to his car. Geralt's house is fifteen minutes away, and he just might get there before midnight. For some silly reason, telling him before the year ends seems important. It's possible he breaks a few speed limits getting there, but he pulls into Geralt's driveway with five minutes to spare.
He knocks on the door like a man possessed, pounding at it until Geralt swings it up and scowls at him. "What the fuck - Jaskier?" he shouts before fading into a whisper. He looks shocked, and Jaskier knows he should say something to calm him down. He sure as hell should apologize for avoiding him these past few months, but time is short and he has to put all his faith in what Yen told him. Because this has to work, it simply has to or he'll surely die.
"I've been in love with you since senior year," he blurts out, and Geralt just blinks at him, so Jaskier keeps talking. "I mean, everyone kinda knew? Except you I guess. But I've been so fucking ridiculous about it, pathetic according to what Yennefer told me tonight. I just…thought maybe you wanted to know? And now I realized that I'm rambling, but you know how I get when I'm nervous, and if you could please either tell me you love me to or tell me to fuck off, I would really appreciate it."
"Yen? That sneaky witch," Geralt says, smiling so hard his eyes crinkle up in the corners. "I love you too, Jask."
And then there's noise in the background, cheering from the TV and the neighborhood kids shooting off firecrackers, but all Jaskier can do is stare at Geralt. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, and he's sure Geralt can hear it over the sounds of the celebrations. But Geralt stares right back at him, his gaze dipping down to linger on Jaskier's mouth before coming back up again.
"Kiss me, you fool," Jaskier says softly, and then Geralt's mouth is on his. It's chaste, just a press of lips, like he's unsure about it, and Jaskier can't let that happen. He deepens the kiss, hands coming up to clutch at Geralt's arms, holding him close as he licks into his mouth. He tastes like stout and cheese nips, and it should be weird but it's fucking perfect, because it's him.
It's the best New Year's Eve he's ever had, and as Geralt yanks him over the threshold and into the house, he knows the year is only going to get better and better.
---
Tags list: @halerune @mayastormborn @dani-dandelino @jaskierswolf @littoraly-art @tothedesert @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @hayleynzlive @holymotherwolf @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @larawrmonster @gryffinqueen-blog @lovelyscot @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @allthequeenshorses13 @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @j-u-s-tmyself​ @hayleynzlive @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @flawney @viking1919 @peanitbear
If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!
182 notes · View notes
catierambles · 10 months
Text
Feral Instincts Ch.13
Tumblr media
Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)
WC 1662
Warnings: Mentions of violence, douchbaggery, and intimacy aids.
@mclsquared , @brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @eldarwen333 , @omgkatinka , @identity2212 , @lucypaulette , @teamfan7asy , @ms-betsy-fangirl ,@pagina16ps , @enchantedbytomandhenry , @foxyjwls007 , @nofoolywang , @margauxmargaux07 , @mrsevans90 , @ilikemilkchocolateh , @lizzystuffsthings , @km-ffluv , @cavilllover , @deandoesthingstome , @write-r-die , @livisss , @miss-rebel-without-applause , @kebabgirl67 , @squeezyvalkyrie , @luminescentlily , @ellethespaceunicorn , @niknoca
They eventually got Hunter to open up while Stephanie and Geralt were gone, the wolf being a bit nervous around male Alphas. Unsurprising, given his experience with male Alphas. He was a Null, a wolf who didn't fall within the pack hierarchy but still in possession of his wits. Not a Beta, or an Omega, and definitely not an Alpha. It was uncomplicated as he didn't have to worry about pack politics, but it seemed his current Alpha, Frank, treated the Nulls about as well as he treated everyone else. All of the money from his meager paychecks from his job at the archery range downtown went to him, Frank only giving him enough to survive, but just barely. Rice and instant ramen were staples, so a meal of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast was a feast for him and he ate quite a bit before relaxing into a full stupor.
Hunter had been shocked to learn that Stephanie's current pack was made up of all Alphas save for a single Beta. Sy told him what Geralt had told Stephanie; it got a little tense around the full moon, but they made it work. More time passed and the two still hadn't returned, a scowl gracing August's face the more time went by.
"Easy, Walker." Sy said, picking up on his agitation. "You know how much of a hassle transfering territory can be. Council needs to be called, records updated."
"They may have also needed to call a clean-up crew." Mike said, "Ya know, if the asshole didn't submit."
"She's never fought for territory before." August pointed out.
"You honestly think Geralt would let anything happen to her?" Sy asked, "He said he would step in if shit went pear-shaped. The guy hunts down and takes out ferals for a living, some asshole Alpha with a mean streak ain't shit for him."
"So, um, is he her Mate?" Hunter asked and they looked at him. "Just wondering."
"Not really?" Sy said, "She said it was complicated and that's kinda true."
"She's with all of us!" Mike called from the kitchen as he was loading the dishwasher.
"Oh." Hunter said, "I've heard of female Alphas. Never met one before. Can they have more than one Mate?"
"Not uncommon for them." August said, "I've met a couple, they all had multiple partners of mostly Alphas. Ensured strong children."
"But Steph got her tubes tied years ago, according to her." Mike said, walking into the living room.
"Wouldn’t getting infected have reversed that? It fixes everything else." Hunter said.
"Unless it can reattach fallopian tubes with surgical precision, I doubt it." They hadn't even heard her and Geralt return, August jumping up from his seat and going to her, taking her hands in his and seeing her bruised and bloodied knuckles. "Remind me to wrap my hands next time."
"How'd it go?" Sy asked, the question aimed at Geralt.
"She was beautiful." Geralt said with a small smile. "Like a ghost, never where he thought she was going to be. Looked like she was dancing."
"Is he…" Hunter let the question trail off.
"He's still alive." Stephanie said, "Like any other bully, he backed down when he realized I was just going to push back harder. Legal stuff has been started and the Council has been notified. I also had him confess to everything he did to you guys, just for good measure."
"He'll be blacklisted from having territory or leading a pack ever again." Geralt said.
"That's why you guys were gone so long?" Hunter asked.
"Well, that, and we oversaw him packing his shit." Stephanie said.
"He's gone?" Hunter asked and she nodded.
"Don't worry, I had him transfer over all the money he took. I'll get everyone's info and transfer it back to you guys." She said and he went quiet, staring down at his hands. "Hunter?" She went to him, kneeling in front of him. "You're okay now, no one is going to hurt you anymore."
"Thank you." He said, barely above a whisper. "I came to you wanting to save myself, but you saved all of us."
"I don't like bullies." Stephanie said, "And I especially don't like bullies in positions of power."
"Thank you." He said again and she reached up, brushing the hair out of his face. "What happens now?"
"Technically I own all of his territory now, which is this building and the one next door." She said.
"You're our landlord now?" Hunter asked.
"Kind of but not really. Geralt's contact on the Council explained it to me. Individual Alpha wolves can't own rental properties, unless they owned it before the decision was made to go public. The…human government, weird to say, doesn't want Alpha wolves discriminating against non-wolves when it comes to housing, and the Council isn't fighting it, because that also means the Alpha can't expand their pack beyond their means and cause issues and territorial disputes. Keeps everything nice and contained." Stephanie explained.
"So the Council owns the buildings." Hunter said and she nodded.
"They own the physical properties, and therefore, legally, are the landlords. Kind of like a rental agency owning a property, but hiring someone to oversee the day to day on the property itself." Stephanie said, "Rent payments went to the Council, but they had no idea Frank was taking all of the pack's money and only giving back enough to just barely get by."
"What he do with the extra cash?" Hunter asked.
"Spent it." Geralt said, "Had some pretty pricey electronics in his apartment, computer equipment, those kinds of things."
"You said you made him give the money back, but if he spent it…"
"I cleaned him out." Stephanie said, "I took almost everything in his checking and savings. Left him enough for a bus ticket out of town and a burger."
"What'll happen to him?" Hunter asked.
"Don't know, don't care." Stephanie said, "Consider it karma. He made it so you guys had barely enough to survive and now he's in that same position."
"Blacklisted or not, the Council has resources for Alphas without packs or territories." Geralt said with a shrug, "They'll get him set up with employment and a place to live in his hometown, but then he's on his own. Talking with my contact, he'll have his wages garnished until he pays back everything he took for the length of time he ran this pack."
"I think that's the most I've ever heard you say at one time." Stephanie said after a pause, looking at him, and he snorted.
"You're our Alpha now." Hunter said and she turned her attention back to him, giving him a small nod. "I should tell the others."
"How many are in the pack?" Geralt asked.
"About a dozen." Hunter said, "And that includes the kids."
"He was takin’ from families?" Sy asked and Hunter nodded, making him scowl.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions. She knew most of them just from living in the same building, and they were as surprised as Hunter when they learned she was a wolf, and an Alpha at that. Banking information was taken down, money was transferred, divided up as evenly as possible as there was no easy way of determining who surrendered how much. Families got extra just because they had kids that they needed to provide for. A future trip to Costco was planned using her membership card so they could get bulk essentials. Walter showed up mid-afternoon and was brought up to speed on what had happened.
“I have an idea.” Stephanie said a bit sheepishly as she sat curled up in Walter’s lap once everyone had left, and they looked at her.
“What’s up, babe?” Sy asked.
“August said that female Alphas have a tendency to unite packs, right?”
“I did say that, yes.” August said.
“I’m not green enough not to realize when I’m in over my head, so I thought…”
“You want to merge your new pack with ours.” Geralt said and she nodded. “It’s a good idea. Didn’t want to lose you anyway.”
“Our territories ain’t exactly touchin’, but it’s not unheard of.” Sy said, “You’d control this territory, we’d control ours, but we’d step in if you needed somethin’. Kinda like cops crossin’ jurisdictions to help each out.”
“One of us should be here.” August said, “There’s now an open unit in the building, unless you were planning on moving into it.”
“You know, I kinda was.” Stephanie admitted, “His soundsystem is nice and his computer is more powerful than mine. Also, the unit is bigger than this one.”
“Rock-paper-scissors for it?” Sy suggested and she snorted, tucking her face into Walter’s neck. “You move into the former Alphas place along with Mikey, and one of us moves into this one. If somethin’ goes sideways, we’d actually be in a position to do fuck all about it.”
“And by “something” you mean Jordan.” Stephanie said and he nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I hate packing.”
“Well it ain’t like you don’t got helpers.” Sy said.
“As if I’d let you guys go through my stuff!”
“Doll, we’ve seen you with your legs in the air, goin’ through your skivvies shouldn’t embarrass you.” Sy said.
“Maybe I don’t want you guys to find my sex toys.” Stephanie said.
“Toys?” Walter asked, “Plural?”
“Sizes, shapes,” She paused, “Thicknesses.”
“I’ve been here for almost three weeks and I haven’t found anything!” Mike said and she shot him a look.
“I know how to hide my shit.” She said, “Jordan was weird about dildos and vibrators, so I hid them from him.”
“You have a monster dildo, don’t you.” Sy said and she snorted.
“Monster as in big, or monster as in not modeled after human anatomy?” She asked, “Because I plead the fifth.”
“Doll, you a dirty girl.” Sy said and she snorted again, picking her head up to blow him a kiss.
60 notes · View notes