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playing--koi · 5 years ago

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Errand Boy

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warning(s): SMUT (18+), language, unprotected sex, infidelity

Summary: Your father, the king, has been employing Geralt of Rivia to do many jobs for him, however most find it to be quite curious considering Geralt doesn’t typically make a habit of returning to the same employers. Perhaps he’s found another purpose besides coin?

Word Count: 3.6k

MASTERLIST

Jaskier sat idly as he waited for Geralt to fetch him at the pub. Strumming his guitar lazily and nursing a beer was all he could bring himself to do in his state of boredom. Not many people were inhabiting the bar, so he had no one to entertain with his tales of grandeur. He could only imagine whatever task Geralt was doomed to endure in search of profit. Something about ghouls? He couldn’t even bother to remember what silly little task the king had sent Geralt chasing this time.

For the life of him, he really couldn’t figure out what was possessing his friend to keep up with the pathetic jobs this king had been demanding. Geralt was usually so picky with what he agreed to and the clientele he kept, usually very nomadic in his style. But, as usual, when he questioned Geralt, he wasn’t granted a response—but more of a grumble of warning.

His internal monologue was abruptly halted by the wooden door of the pub slamming against the wall. Speak of the devil. Geralt looked angry, in his signature countenance. His mane was tangled and knotted with leaves and dirt; his face sporting a few bruises and minor cuts, but nothing too alarming. Nothing like the aftermath of a more frightening beast. He could assume that the rest of Geralt’s body was fine as he wasn’t displaying any pain or difficulty on his trek to the bar, but he could never be sure with all of the leather that hid his skin.

Geralt sat down heavily on the barstool and tapped the counter twice, signaling for a beer. Once the barkeep slid it to the spot right in front of him, he began chugging it.

“All of this attitude because of a ghoul?” Jaskier chided. “You’ve gone soft on us, Geralt!” The white-haired man wordlessly narrowed his eyes at the jester, only lowering his beer for a moment before continuing.

But that sour face was never enough to dissuade Jaskier before. He was determined to get to the bottom of this very un-Geralt behavior.

“So, may I ask when you’re gonna be done being the king’s little errand boy?”

“I’m not an errand boy,” Geralt growled in response. “—it’s steady coin.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not buying that,” Jaskier could see right through the bullshit that the Witcher was so expertly feeding him, “there are monsters everywhere and people who need help ridding of them everywhere. And those people have coin as well,”.

Geralt’s silence, while annoying, was slightly exciting to Jaskier, considering it meant he’d struck some sort of chord.

Jaskier sighed. “Look, Geralt—it’s not like I’m angry that we keep going back. Just curious is all. How could I be angry when it means I can continue to behold the king’s daughter—” The bard pursed his lips, no doubt imagining some sort of filthy scenario, “—now that is one fine specimen,”.

Geralt’s head whipped around so quickly at the mention of the princess, Jaskier almost thought his neck would snap. The mountain of a man nearly had his teeth bared. “Ah-ha!” He pointed victoriously at the Witcher. “That’s why you keep going back, I knew it!” Jaskier fancied himself a sleuth at the discovery.

“Shut up,” Geralt hissed out.

“Oh, relax, buddy. Your little crush is safe with me,”. He patted the other man on the back.

“Ah, yes! He returns,” the king proclaimed as Geralt and Jaskier’s presence was announced to the throne room, where a party of sorts had nearly bored you to tears. Your head immediately perked up at the mention of the duo, your once-heavy eyelids now light as a feather. You watched as the two both walked in, one’s stride certainly commanding more respect than his counterpart.

You could feel your husband’s eyes on you, suspicious as to why you were suddenly so interested, but his gaze was soon otherwise occupied by some other dame. It wasn’t like you cared if he knew of your interest. You knew of his continuous conquests and, since you were nowhere near ready to have children, you hadn’t touched each other since the marriage was consummated. It was purely a marriage of political gain and you had no problem with that. But one thing you hated was when he suddenly got possessive if he saw your eyes wander.

The band went silent, as did most other conversations in the room at the entrance of such a well-known figure—known for his bravery and abilities. Your father congratulating him on another job well done, but you barely heard any of it, too busy staring at him; hair deliciously unkempt and face sporting light signs of a struggle. His brows were furrowed as they usually were, showing his attention to what the king was saying.

You managed to come back to reality as Geralt was agreeing to sit in on the party and ‘let loose’, as your father had put it. But everything about the man in question made you wonder if it was even possible for him to relax in such a garish setting. The bard accompanying him, however, seemed not to have a problem with it at all as he was already grabbing himself a glass of wine and introducing himself to the company. Primarily the female company.

You giggled slightly at his antics as your eyes slowly trailed back to the Witcher. You found that he was being ushered up the few stairs leading to the large table that the royals were sat at. Where you were sat. Oh, this was just perfect, the ideas floating through your mind were reminiscent of a Cheshire cat.

Due to your brother being away on military duties, the chair to your left was vacant, so he was invited by your father to take that place as the ‘guest of honor who’d been a great help to the province’.

His presence to your left was like a boulder weighing on your mind. While it was exciting, it was also cruel to sit him next to you because it was much harder to watch him discreetly that way.

You nearly flinched as you felt the weight of your husband’s hand make contact with your thigh, wordlessly declaring himself to be your controller. It wasn’t an announcement to the rest of the party, however, because they couldn’t even see it due to the long tablecloth obscuring their vision. Oh no, it was an announcement to you and the object of your desires. You clenched your jaw to keep from dismissing his overbearing gesture, masked as some sort of romantic affection that you knew to be in vain. You had no problem spitting it back in his face, but you were encouraged to keep those matters private.

Just the arrival of Geralt was enough to make any man feel inferior and you couldn’t help but feel entertained that your husband was so upset by it. So, instead of moving his hand away, you decided to turn to Geralt and start a conversation while you knew your husband’s attention was on you.

As you faced him, you could see his golden eyes overtaken with confusion, brows furrowing. “Won’t you and your companion stay at the castle tonight?” You inquired. “I can imagine it’s been a long day and we have plenty of room to spare at the castle—” you turned back to look at your husband innocently “—don’t we, darling?” Your husband was clearly not thrilled with the idea, but nodded nonetheless.

You turned back to look at the Witcher yet again, waiting for a response. “I suppose the bard and I could use a place to stay,” you almost whimpered at the sound of his voice, deep and gritty and rough.

“Perfect,” you smirked, “I’ll let my father know to have two rooms prepared,”.

As the night continued and the music quickened, your husband eventually invited you to dance and you begrudgingly agreed. He held you tightly to him, leaving no room between your two bodies as he spun you around the room and soaked in the attention that was on you both. You grew very disillusioned with all of it long ago, but his bursting ego seemed to bask in it and would probably continue to until the day he died.

You could feel a pair of eyes following you specifically throughout the seemingly endless song you’d been trapped dancing to; and you hoped more than anything that they belonged to the guest of honor. But the endless spinning made it difficult to check.

Finally the song came to a halt and you were free to return to your seat, nursing your wine until the party’s glorious end.

Once everyone had retreated to their separate quarters of the castle and you were freed from the watchful glare of your husband, you were left alone with your harrowing desires and never-ending thoughts of a certain Witcher between your thighs. You tossed and turned in bed, mindlessly rubbing your thighs together in search of any form of release. While you enjoyed the large bed you slept in, it felt so much emptier in times of want.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed something.

Leaping from your bed, you tiptoed to the door and pulled it open, careful to work slowly and avoid any creaking. You had no idea which room Geralt was given, but you were too dazed to care, simply willing to look through all of them in search.

Your feet were freezing against the marble floors and your nipples pebbled through the fabric of your nightgown; you were too desperate to remember a robe or footwear, but you couldn’t be bothered to go back for them. If things worked out according to plan, you’d be warmed up in a jiffy.

As you arrived at the first room in question, you could hear loud sexual noises on the other side of the door that sounded suspiciously like the bard and a female companion. At least, you sincerely hoped it was the bard otherwise you’d be seeking vengeance. You were excited for him while also feeling extremely jealous that you weren’t in the same…situation.

You continued your search throughout the the interwoven hallways and corridors, your lust-filled brain proving useless in your search. Your nearly automated search continued before you gasped as you felt a hand envelope your bicep, pulling you against the wall. Your back would’ve slammed against the barrier had a strong arm not wrapped around your waist and stopped any form of collision, gently placing you so that your back was resting against the cool stone walls, goosebumps arising on your skin.

Your eyes had tightly shut upon feeling the need to brace yourself, but once your eyes opened and the culprit was revealed, you’d never felt more satiated.

The amber eyes staring back into yours held a twinge of cockiness at finding you in this position—aimlessly wandering the hallways in search of him. He caged you in, an arm circling your waist as his other hand pressed against the stone beside your head; successfully trapping you as if you’d even make an attempt to flee. His hot breath lingered across the skin of your face as you both remained silent, staring at each other. His scent was a beautiful blend of smoke, leather, and eucalyptus.

He was the first to break the silence, deep voice guiding you deeper into your trance of lust. “Couldn’t wait another few moments for me to come and find you, princess?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“I was afraid that my husband’s wordless warnings may have scared you off.” You whispered back, challenging his alleged fearlessness. “And I missed having you between my legs. It’s been too long,”.

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “It’s been but a few days, your highness,” he stated.

You smirked, eyes darting down to his lips then quickly returning to his own, “my statement still stands, Witcher. It’s been too long,”.

He captured your lips in an intense kiss; one of longing and passion. While he would never say it, you knew that the time spent apart was just as unbearable to him as it was to you. His signature flavor had already become familiar to your desperate mind, looking for a semblance of him in every delicacy you’d tasted since. Soon enough, the hand pressed against the wall joined the other, wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer.

One of your own hands settled on his chest while the other found its place on the back of his neck, keeping him in place as you both explored each other. His overwhelming presence of muscles and angular ridges pressed against you so wonderfully as his thick thigh found its way between your legs. You gasped for air as your mouths separated, now staring into each other’s eyes hungrily.

“So I see the prince didn’t exactly scare you off,” you teased, a glimmer of jest in your eyes.

His own squinted in response. “I was one moment away from ripping his arms from his shoulders,” without any forewarning, his hand administered a spank to your clothed buttocks, granting a hiss from you, “because this body is all mine, princess,” he whispered as his lips now made their way down your neck. He nipped, suckled, and caressed the sensitive areas of your throat with his mouth. He tried to pull noises from you, but your nerves prevented you from indulging in any vocal pleasures.

Soon enough, he grew fed up of the quiet you were both doomed to obey in the hallways, so he grasped your thighs and pulled you to wrap your legs around his waist. He began walking you through corridors, but you paid no attention to where he was headed. You trusted that he knew where your quarters were located after the many times you’d both given into a shared midnight tryst. While you should’ve probably proceeded with immense caution, you couldn’t find a care in the world as you grasped his mane in your greedy hands, whispering a simple, “please hurry,”. And hurry, he did.

You were soon deposited back onto your own luxurious sheets, his frantic movements calculated as he stripped you of your dressing gown and left your naked at the foot of your bed, your legs hanging off the edge as you stared up at his towering person. He stared down at you, worshipping your physique with his eyes; the soft edges of your body awaiting him as your chest rose and fell with each delicate breath you allowed.

He soon knelt, his face now level with yours as he held you tight against him and continued his earlier assault on your neck. Your breaths were now emitting other varied sounds: whimpers, gasps, pleas as his hand slithered up your thigh and made contact with your clit, slowly circling the bundle of nerves, your hips bucking at the unexpected stimulation. Your back arched, chasing any form of pleasure he’d give you.

His lips broke contact with the flesh of your throat, now pulling back to watch your expression of pleasure. “Yes, Princess,” he praised, “who does this beautiful cunt belong to?” He challenged. “Is it that little prince of yours?”

“No,” you desperately begged, your body chasing any sort of liberation, “It belongs to you. My body belongs to you,”.

Your eyes were clamped shut, so you were unable to see the soft grin in response to your words. “That’s right, princess, that’s what I wanted to hear,”. Before you could even tell what was happening, he flipped your body over; your stomach now pressed against the bed as his strong hands held your hips, slowly rubbing and pinching at the skin of your ass.

“Look at this pretty little ass,” he mused, softly spanking at the skin of your left cheek. You moaned as he massaged the skin he’d previously slapped, the delectable paradox of pleasure and pain overwhelming you after a long night of vexing desire.

Without any sort of warning, he spread your ass and licked a long striped from your clit to your pert little hole, deep voice groaning the entire distance. You let out an obscene moan of surprise, never having felt a lover as committed to your pleasure as Geralt. His name left your lips in praise.

“That’s right, kitten—” the warmth of his breath invaded every inch of your heat, “let me hear all your little sounds while I devour this pretty little ass,”. He’d rarely spoken to you like this and you had a sneaking suspicion that it was a reaction to seeing your husband get so possessive with you, but no matter the reason, it had you so turned on you could barely see straight. Your fists clenched around the fabric of the sheets, trying to find any outlet for the euphoria you were feeling.

His tongue and lips made quick work of your core, slurping at the surrounding area and lightly caressing your bud. Every few movements, his tongue would reconnect with your tight ring of muscle, earning a gasp each time. He alternated between that and sucking at your bundle, finding a pattern that your body reacted best to. Your hips were grinding against the sheets mindlessly, no doubt soaking both the fabric and Geralt’s face as you rode toward your high.

The fingers on both of his hands continued to dig into the skin of you ass, pulling you closer to his mouth and dragging you to the edge with each sound of his own satisfaction that passed his lips. Without any thought, you moved one of your hands—from its place gripping the blanket— around your back to grip his hair, pulling at it as he coaxed more noises from you; just remembering that he liked a bit of roughness while he worked you over. As he felt you nearing the end, he moved both of his hands around your thighs, pressing you tight up against his face and holding you steady as you prepared to burst, the searing red feeling of orgasm washing over you. His arms holding your thighs up were the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the bed into a heap of shaking limbs. One your ears were done ringing, you could hear the sounds of fabric hitting the ground as he no doubt rid himself of his clothes at the foot of your bed.

Quickly aware of his own release not having been met yet, you pulled yourself up on your forearms and flipped yourself over to face him. His pupils were dilated so heavily, you could almost swear that his whole iris was black, as he smirked at you with undoubtable pride. His forehead glimmered with sweat and his partial bun was disheveled, no doubt due to your pulling.

You grasped at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss as you tasted your own juices mixed in with his musk. You pulled him forward as you crawled yourself further onto the bed, him chasing your movements and making sure your mouths didn’t part. When you could feel the pillows at the top of your bed, you motioned for him to lie back on the bed.

He stared up at your figure as you straddled his legs, his member pressed up against his belly. You gripped it with one of your hands as you sunk down, his manhood slowly entering you, the delicious stretch of his thick cock enough to overpower you as you held onto his shoulders tightly. “Fuck, princess. That’s it,”. You mewled at his approval no matter how many times you’d heard it. He sat up straighter the further you descended onto his cock, his body closing every semblance of distance.

His hands found their way to your hips, guiding your rhythm as you rode him. Golden eyes staring at you with praise and awe as he took one of your pert nipples into his mouth. His gigantic hands just kept pulling you into him, blurring the lines between where each of you started and finished, as you both indulged in this realm of pleasure together. You yanked at his hair, drawing his lips back into a searing kiss, teeth clattering and heavy breaths veiling over one another. Your hips bucked against his, both frantically chasing your bliss. Teetering over the edge together, both bodies drenched in sweat and yearning as you met the white hot feeling of completion.

Letting out the most obscene noises, your legs no longer able to hold you up as he pulled you into a laying position beside him on the bed. Both facing each other, your release slowly dwindled as you returned to your body, finding his near-glowing eyes again in the darkness.

Once you both were no longer panting, you let a small smile adorn your face, unafraid of the vulnerability after the activities you’d both shared. And, while most people might never get to see it, a small beam adorned his face as well, his arms slithering around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Let’s hope the king has at least a few more jobs for me,” he whispered into the darkness.

You giggled at his antics, gleeful that he wasn’t sick of you yet. “I’m sure he’ll find something for you to do,”.

A/N: Another Geralt fic because I couldn’t resist! I would sincerely LOVE any sort of a feedback (as I am a whore for all comments) and I hope you all like it!! Perhaps leave it a like? Maybe even a reblog? Anyways, thank you so much for reading!!!! Have a lovely day, babies!! x g

geralt tag list: @alwayshave-faith @fairytale07 @whatawildone

#geralt of rivia #Geralt #geralt of rivia smut #geralt fic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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