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Geralt of Rivia pre-witcher 3

Been playing the first witcher game and it’s so good! (despite me being absolutely frustrated with the mechanics at first). How the Witcher 3 doesnt have the hairstyle from the first 2 games boggles my mind :(

And do come check out my Instagram @mayasooong!

Trapped

geralt x fem!reader

summary | you get trapped

warnings | smut 18+ pls, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, if I missed any please let me know

wc | 1.7k

a/n | for my game/books canon SOFT geralt. geralt is NOT with yennefer in this because i will NOT make him a cheater. he's romancing US.

****

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, y/n”

“I’m not, Geralt, I’m so sorry. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.” Your voice was quivering, just like the rest of your body was. Your hands gripped your upper arms as you failed to meet his eye.

You really hadn’t intended this to happen. Getting trapped in an underground elvish ruin, that is. You were down there searching for an ornate box, a very small one, a very important one. Geralt didn’t really explain what was so important about it, but you didn’t push. After months of training, he had finally allowed you to join him on an adventure. He hated it when you called them that. This time, he told you there probably wouldn’t be any monsters, but you didn’t mind. Any time spent with Geralt was time well spent.

But now you were trapped and he was angry at you. How careless you were. You thought you spotted the box in the crack between a pillar and the wall. Not a minute later, a large stone wall crashed down over the entrance, trapping the two of you inside. It had been a trap, uh, obviously.

“I just thought I saw the box, I’m so sorry.”

“You what?”

“I thought I saw the box in that spot right there,” you pointed, now Geralt noticed your shaking and he let out a sigh.

“Don’t apologize, the damage is done now, there’s no point.”

He was angry, very, but he recognized that it truly was an accident. Now he would just have to make sure not to take it out on you while he found a way out of there.

He first tried Aard, no use. Now to look for clues. While Geralt did that, you continued searching for the box, exceedingly careful not to touch anything.

It seemed like hours passed just like this. Your theory was confirmed when you asked Geralt. It was he who decided to take a break. You sat on the ground in front of him, cross-legged, watching his features.

“I’m really sorry, Geralt. And I don’t know what to do.”

His fleeting anger was now gone, taking its place was his usual, yet eerie, calm. You don’t know how he did it, obviously the mutations, but he still feels. So how could he not get nerves? You hoped you would have time to ask him, yet your predicament put doubt on that.

“We’ll find a way out.”

That night, you asked Geralt to hold you. A mere comfort, you asked for. But you knew it was more than that. He did too.

When you woke, the no food thing had gotten to you. Your stomach growled and Geralt sent you a sympathetic look. Though you both knew he could go far longer without food than you could. We’ll get out of here soon enough. I will not starve to death in this god-awful place.

Geralt was already walking around, looking for a way out. His eyes lingered on you at regular intervals. You couldn’t figure out why. Of course, you knew what you wanted it to mean. You wanted it to mean he wanted to take you over that desk over there, or hell, the floor you were sitting on.

You must have been thinking about it too much because the next time you met Geralt’s eye, he quirked his eyebrow at you. Shit. Gods you wanted this man.

You suddenly felt bold, bold enough to do what you’d wanted to do for years.

The boldness that possessed you was could have been caused either by the excitement in your pants or the mere feeling of facing almost certain death. Maybe it was just the fear getting you all worked up. Either way, you would get what you wanted. Or try to, at least.

“Geralt, come sit.” You had planted yourself on the large wooden desk in the center of the room. He quietly obeyed and leaned against the table next to you.

“Are we going to be able to get out of here?” He looked at you as if he knew you were skirting the subject that clouded your thoughts.

“I don’t know. But I told Yen where we were going so eventually someone will come looking for us.”

“She’ll come with a portal.” You nudged his shoulder with your own, earning yourself that smirk that you adored so much.

“Oh. Fun.”

You must have been staring a bit too long at his lips because suddenly you felt a large hand cup your face. His eyes roved yours, asking for the permission which you gave when you pressed your lips upon him.

He was soft, despite his looks, and experienced. So much so that you felt immediately inadequate, pulling back ever so slightly.

“We don’t have to.” He told you, his words betraying the small smile that was widening across his face.

“I want to.” You closed the gap once more as Geralt skillfully moved off the desk and between your legs. His hips instinctually bucked into yours, earning him a soft moan. His laugh sent lightning from your lips straight to your core.

Your fingers found the laces of his trousers while his worked on his shirt. Once off, your fingers smoothed over the broad expanse of his chest. He was lean yet you knew what those muscles could do. And that excited you.

Your lips only separated for a moment for you to pull your shirt over your head. Breasts now freed, Geralt's eyes wandered and locked on them.

“What do you want, Geralt?”

“I want to touch you, please, y/n.”

“Gods, please do.”

With that, his mouth was on your neck, leaving hot breathy kisses up and down its length while his hands kneaded your chest. Despite your pleasure at his hands, it was not you that broke the silence with a moan. The witcher had wanted this for a long time and now that he had it he was in a state of pure ecstasy.

You ran your hands through his silvery hair and led his face back to yours. Though, you only got a few messy kisses in before he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. When you look down at him he is the picture of a man on a mission. He has one goal in mind and he is getting there exceedingly well.

You lift your ass up off the desk for a moment to help him wiggle your pants off. When that’s done he pushed you further back on the desk, maintaining eye contact to make sure this is ok. Of course, it is, but the way he does it somehow gets you more excited than you already were.

He wastes no time. His fluttery kisses make their way up your inner thighs landing softly on the place you needed him most. He nosed your clit before working the rest of your core with his tongue.

“Y/n.” That flustered you. His full attention was on you, he was level with your cunt and saying your name. This man will ruin you.

“Ger- augh.”

You had no chance to finish his name before he latched onto your sensitive bundle of nerves. Lapping and sucking until your vision went blurry. Your hand had long since buried itself in his hair, but now you were sure it must have been hurting him.

Your grip loosened as you came down from your high. Geralt's tongue continued to work you until you caught your breath.

He was an attentive lover, you could say that much. Gods you didn't want this to end. Maybe it wouldn’t, who knows if you’d get out of these ruins. Fuck until you die. No, y/n, don't think that, not now.

You glanced behind you at the desk, still covered in papers and pokey objects.

“Fuck it.”

You hopped down from the desk and pulled Geralt to the floor with you. It was dirty, absolutely, but did either of you care? Absolutely not.

Geralt’s hands flew to your thighs as you pumped his already rock-hard member. The man below you looked absolutely dazed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were like glossy pools staring up at you.

They only broke from yours when you slid down onto him, he shut his eyes and rested his head on the floor. The floor must have been cold because this witcher had goosebumps. Or maybe that was just you.

The echoey room was full of soft grunts and moans, each coming from both of you. Once you fell into a rhythm, Geralt followed your lead. You leaned your head down to kiss him, placing one hand on his chest and the other on the floor.

His hand reached down between you and began rubbing circles on your clit. You felt yourself coming close so you sat back up, grinding into him with more ferocity. His hand stayed put, matching your pace.

“Ah, yes, Geralt. That feels so damn good.”

This elicited an uncharacteristically loud moan from the witcher’s mouth. That you’d hoped you’d have time to explore much more. It must have surprised him too, judging by his reaction. His eyes popped open and he gazed at you once more.

“Y/n, I- I’m close.”

“I know. Me too.”

You rose and fell on his cock a few more times before you both reached your peak. Before you could remove him from you Geralt grabbed your hips, keeping you in place.

“Just wait. A few minutes, please.”

“As you wish.” You grinned at him before laying yourself down on his chest. In any other situation, your hot bodies pressed together would have been uncomfortable. But now, it was blissful.

As you were both halfway done dressing yourselves a portal appeared in the corner of the room. Through it walked the familiar raven-haired mage.

“Oh, oh, oh, you have got to be kidding me. You two are trapped for one day and start acting like a couple of animals.”

****

a/n | yennefer joins in next time…..maybeeee. i haven’t written any yennefer fics yet (do my utter dismay) so maybe that will be my start. also i am 100% rewriting this as a hate sex fic.

Witchers have their own set of courting traditions. One of these traditions is to present a token from a particularly difficult hunt to their intended.

When they were lovers, Geralt had carved Yennefer a pendant from the tusk of a basilisk.

Years after that relationship crashed and burned, Geralt realized his feelings for Jaskier. Geralt wanted to court Jaskier, but he knew he needed to match or top the token he had given Yennefer. Otherwise, his commitment could be questioned.

Then, Geralt got the brilliant idea to hunt a series of monsters for Jaskier, using components from each to make one grand gift.

THIS IS SO GAY I LOVEEE ITTT No thim making a lil outfit for his boyfriend with lil bits and bobs made from monsters and beasts omg

alright so no one asked for his but I can’t stop thinking about it. 

Jaskier is not talented at fighting in anyway shape or from. He’s fit enough to run away pretty quickly and is taller than most people, but honestly he just doesn’t having any knowledge of how to fight. He has a dagger but it’s more for looks that anything else. 

Most people assume that after years of traveling through increasingly dangerous situations with Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier would have picked up something, sword fighting, pakour, hand to hand or even would be strong enough to throw a good punch but honestly he’s really useless at that kind of thing. 

When Geralt is around, the witcher can normally take care of any enemies they have so Jaskier doesn’t bother and when Geralt isn’t around Jaskier has enough charisma and charm to get himself out of the situation. He’s a bard by trade. He doesn’t like to resort to fighting. 

Then he begins to hear whispers from people about The White Wolf’s bard. There are rumours that he is viscious when crossed, that he can hold his own in a fight. The rumors are helpful, Jaskier is accosted quite a bit less and when people see him late in the night, they leave him alone but it begins to push at Jaskier in an unpleasant way. Because, in the end, these are just rumors, falsehoods. He can’t actually fight, he can’t actually go feral or take out a dozen bandits in the night. 

He’s not useful to Geralt and once he realizes this Jaskier begins to a feel more than a bit self-conscious. The swords in the windows of local blacksmiths begin to look more appealing and the measly dagger he carries to defend himself begins to looks more pathetic. How could be matched up to Geralt if he’s really as useless as all that?

His mood must be obvious because Geralt begins to give him odd looks that Jaskier understands to mean ‘we really should talk but I’m too much of a coward to say anything’. Jaskier is having trouble composing his music and he feels entirely uninspired. 

One night, when they have just left a town and are headed for a contract on a nekker nest Jaskier feels brave enough to ask Geralt. 

“Geralt, uh, quick question, no pressure, no commitment here. But, well, I know that you have those big scary swords of yours and well, I was wondering if you think you could teach me how to use them.”

From over the fire, Geralt gives Jaskier the strangest look.

“Why do you want to learn to use swords? There’s not much room to carry them alongside a lute.”

Jaskier tries to edge around the questions, “I just think…it could be fun.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow at Jaskier, “Fun? You once said that watching me practice swordsmanship must be a special type of torture desgined by Witchers for use against bards.”

“Yes, well, perhaps I was mistaken.”

“Jaskier you have never admitted to being wrong a day in your godforsaken life, what is this about?”

He sighed, he might as well admit it. It could be the only that convinces Geralt.

“I’ve been hearing these rumors about my apparently hidden talent at weapons, but the truth is Geralt I can hardly throw a punch and honestly I terrified that…”

He stopped he couldn’t say it. Then he looked at Geralt who was waiting patiently, no judgement in his eyes and it gave him the strength to continue. 

“I’m terrified that I am absolutely useless to you as a traveling companion.”

For a moment, Geralt was silent and Jaskier considered bolting then and there but Geralt began speaking in a measure voice. 

“Jaskier, by this point in time I truly hope you aren’t measuring your worth on physical prowess alone.”

He looked up, what was Geralt saying? The Witcher must have noticed his questioning look because he continued talking.

“You are easily one of the most talent bards on the Continent, you manage to get people in your pocket within minutes of meeting you and you have the have the terrifying talent of making people forget why they ever hated you in the first place. Jaskier, you don’t need to be vicious and ruthless to be interesting, you don’t need to be strong to be brave, and you don’t have to be useful to be my friend and the most worthy travel companion I have ever had.”

Jaskier blinked. Those weren’t tears forming in the corners of his eyes, nope, the smoke from the fire had just irritated them. He tried to open his mouth to speak but the words came out rough. 

“Than-thank you Geralt.”

He grabbed his lute from behind his back and pulled it in front of him. His desire to amass an increasingly immense stockpile of weapons was diminishing and the want to compose his next song was growing. He began to strum a simple pattern on the strings. 

Geralt was right. He didn’t have to be the most powerful person in the room. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to be useful to be loved.