Soft-vainilla - ʕ♡˙ᴥ˙♡ʔ

The Witcher’s fate

Summary: Stumbling across a girl in need Geralt must break his adamant rule to not get close to an omega.

Pairing: Alpha!Geralt of Rivia x Omega!Reader

Characters: Jaskier, Ofc (unnamed)

Warnings: angst, language, Geralt being a douche, blood, A/B/O dynamics, scenting, smut, unprotected sex, claiming, all the odd stuff coming with A/B/O stories, a hint of voyeurism (unintended)

A/N: As my friend didn’t stop bugging me to finally write an A/B/O story for Geralt here we go. Please consider, I never wrote Geralt before.

Cold panic lets you freeze to the spot. All you wanted was to get some herbs to make it through your heat. Now you will never have to worry about heats or an alpha taking advantage of you ever again.

The monster circling you like prey will end your life and it’s your fault. You can almost hear your mother scold you from her grave: ‘how can you walk into the woods in the dead of the night’?

“Listen, I do not taste good, beast,” you laugh to yourself whilst you try to negotiate with a beast, a monster without a heart or wit. “I know I look delicious at first but believe me, I am a chewy little thing.” The beast’s eyes darken and if you did not know better, you would believe it just smirked at you.

You try to outstep the large wolf, but he steps closer, snarling before he pounces on you. Eyes closed you sniffle as the beast sniffs at your neck, drooling onto your face, making you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

“I know you love omegas, but I am not tasty…” The wolf growls, sniffing at your neck.

“Do not move,” a deep voice bellows, making you go stiff underneath the beast. The wolf looks up, snarling into the distance. “If you move, it’ll bite you and it’s over. Lay stiff, close your eyes, and even your breathing, omega. Do not talk either…”

Holding your breath, you follow the man’s orders, not opening your eyes you lay stiff onto the cold ground, praying the beast will just lose interest.

“If you want meat, try me,” you can hear the man get closer, talking to the beast now not you. “I bet she’s boring and plain.” If not for the life-threatening situation you would give that man a piece of mind, but not with a hungry beast on top of you, ready to devour your body.

The wolf grits its teeth, almost as if he tries to mock the man with a dark grin. More drool ends up on your face when the wolf places one large paw onto your chest, to dig his claws into your skin.

Whimpers leave your lips feeling blood soak your cloak, but you try anything to remain silent, even though it’s hard to not scream when a beast laps at your neck, demanding submission.

“You know,” you’ve got no clue if the man is talking to you or the beast now but you listen closely, hoping he can free you before the monster feasts on your flesh, “ages ago wolves were the rulers of this forest. People feared this place, trembled at the mere memory of those beasts hunting them down.”

Something warm splashes onto your face and chest when a pitiful whine leaves the creature’s lips and it drops onto your body, taking your breath away.

“Nowadays, they are weak, only go after tiny girls like you.” Now you blink your eyes open to look up at a man with silver hair and odd eyes.

Hoping he will help you up you search his stoic face, but he doesn’t show any emotion and your heart drops.

He is not holding out his hand or checks on you. Rather interested in the dying beast he kicks the monster off your body with his heavy boot to end the wolf’s life with one precise blow of his sword, decapitating the monster’s head.

“You shouldn’t run around the woods in the middle of the night, omega,” he spats the last word, pushing some strands of his mane out of his face. “Wolves usually feed in packs. Luckily,” he kicks the wolf’s body, looking at you, “that one is an alpha, girl. The stronger one’s hunt alone, sometimes.”

“I guess I got lucky that not ten or more wolves wanted to kill me but one,” you spat, glaring up at the man who doesn’t react when you hold out your hand. “Not a gentleman, I see,” you struggle to get up, still you manage to go on your knees to grasp for the nearby tree.

“Never said I came to your rescue, girl. I came here for the prize,” now he dips his head to look at your blood-soaked cloak. Oddly, he steps closer now to touch your cheek, smearing the wolf’s blood over your skin. “You’re pretty dumb to walk around that late at night to meet a wolf.”

“Do you want to scare me or wait for me to pay you for my rescue,” you toss a coin at the man, now pursing your lips. “I know who you are, Witcher,” this time you spat the last word. “You only help people for money. I hope this is enough, I got nothing else worth your strength with me.”

“This will be enough,” he grits out, glancing at your neck, feeling a pull toward you he never felt before. “So, you do know who I am.”

“Heard stories about a silver-haired man with glowing eyes. I heard you hunt monsters for money to feel anything but the emptiness in your heart,” you wrap your arms around yourself, lifting your chin. “Is it true Witcher’s can’t feel anything?”

“I don’t think you deserve more than I already gave you, girl,” you nod, eyes dropping to the ground to look for the herbs.

“No…” The snow ruined your herbs, turned the useful ingredients into nothing but rotten memories of something you picked up hours ago. “Those were the last…” You fall back to your knees, feeling dizziness take over. “I’m lost now…”

The world turns black when you hit the ground with a loud thud. One last word catches your attention before you lose consciousness. “Fuck…”

“Fuck wake up. I don’t have time all day,” the man, the Witcher curses watching you blink your eyes open. “You’re not dead, congratulations.” He mutters, giving you an angry look. “I could’ve been back at town to get my coins, but you had to sleep.”

“I did not sleep,” you whine, feeling odd close to the angry man. “I’m sorry to keep you busy. I’ll pay more for your time.”

“Leave it,” he sighs, walking toward his sword and bag on your table. “I ate some of your bread and drank wine. You should rest, your heat is due any day.”

“I know,” whispering the word you cover your eyes with one arm. “That’s the reason I was out there. I tried to find herbs to stop my…heat.”

“Still, it was stupid, girl.” He looks at you, expecting another snarky comment but you sigh, nodding silently. “You should find an alpha and let him mate you.”

“Says the man not feeling anything. I…I am not like other girls or rather omegas. I like to read and learned how to fight. I punched a boy’s nose at the age of five. None of the alphas wanted me, except for my husband…but he’s gone…”

“Left you for another omega,” the Witcher turns around, raising his eyebrows. “Tragic love?”

“He died in a war that wasn’t ours,” you grumble, turning around to not show your tears to the foreign man. “We barely got married. He didn’t have the time to claim me before he had to leave. I was alone since then and kept it that way. I loved once and that’s enough, I guess…”

“Listen, you should find a mate. It’s not about love but safety,” he steps toward the door, grasping for the door handle. “An alpha will protect you.”

“No, he won’t. He will leave and die just like my beloved…,” it pains to speak his name, so you remain silent, closing your eyes when the alpha leaves your house.

“You left her there, alone?” Jaskier clears his throat, ready to help an omega in need. “Where does she live? Maybe I can help her.”

“No,” Geralt grits out, still not knowing why you made him feel unease. “She doesn’t want an alpha. Leave her be. We have to be somewhere else by tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you will make it far. Snow is coming, along with a blizzard,” the publican smirks, hoping for more coins to fill his pockets soon.

“I have something to take care of. Stay here,” not wanting to leave the cozy tavern Jaskier nods, still thinking of you in heat. “Forget the girl, Jaskier. Look for the local whorehouse…”

Heat spreads through your body and you crave nothing more than an alpha to take care of your primal needs. You cry out when another cramp let your body tremble in pain.

You can hear the wind howl, proclaiming winter finally arrived; not that you will survive the cold time. Too many heats spend without an alpha weakened your vulnerable body. Now you can only pray the heat will end you soon.

“Maybe the wolf would’ve been the better choice,” you laugh, feeling another painful cramp bubble up in your belly.

“Ungrateful, girl,” you shriek, watching the silver-haired man enter your house. “I should’ve let you die then…”

“Why are you back?” Watching the Witcher lock your door you try to hide the pain shooting through your body. “I thought you hate to waste…” He’s placing his bag and sword back onto your table, still that stoic look on his face,” your time.”

“I think, you have something to offer I cannot decline, girl,” confused you watch the man take off his cape, followed by his boots. “You smell divine, omega.”

His intentions suddenly too clear you try to scramble away when he kicks off his pants. You dare not to look away when the Witcher reveals his body, looking divine himself when he steps closer.

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” he dips one knee into the mattress, surprisingly gently stroking your cheek. “I think you are mine.”

“Witchers don’t have mates,” you squeak when he rips the blanket off your body to reveal your nakedness to him. “You have to go.”

“You’re mine, girl. I smelled it the moment I passed the forest. I had to find you, had to save what belongs to me,” he purrs now and your eyes round. There is something in his eyes you didn’t see before. “Be good, tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” you choke out, feeling his hands grasp for your flesh, kneading it roughly. “What’s your name?” He rolls you onto your stomach to cover your body with his large frame. “Please…”

“Geralt of Rivia, girl. Now be good and let me take what’s mine,” his voice so deep you barely catch his words, only the vibrations against your ear, he lifts your butt to press your flesh against his crotch. “Feel this, girl? This is all for you.”

“I…I don’t know how I can be yours,” you whine, feeling the tip slip inside of your welcoming heat. You can hear the alpha groan behind you, almost sounding like the wolf which tried to kill you not hours ago.

“I don’t care, Y/N,” he snaps his hips, filling you completely.

“Oh, holy…” Senses filled with the alpha, his scent, his skin, his cock, you let yourself fall, not caring about anything but the feeling of his shaft sliding in and out of you.

“You’re mine, I can feel it. It’s odd, you know,” he cradles you in his arms, holding you to his heated body. “I don’t feel anything but you. My senses are filled with you, just like my mind. I couldn’t go to the whores, I had to have you.”

If not for your painful heat you would yell at the alpha, throw insults at him but the way he nuzzles your cheek has you on the edge of an orgasm.

“I felt it too,” you fist the cheap sheets when he slowly starts to rock your body.

His hold on you possessively, his lips tender against your throat Geralt moves his hips, always bottoming out after every hard thrust.

“You take control over me like an enchantress,” Geralt curses, speeding up, rubbing his thick shaft along your walls with every long stroke. “I can’t help it. Roach almost died in the snowstorm, but I kept on going to come here and make you mine.”

“I can’t be yours,” you cry out, feeling your walls clench tightly around the man you barely know. “This is not…”

“Silence, girl,” he snarls against your throat, teeth grazing your skin. “I’ll make you mine,” you don’t understand the meaning of words any longer.

Only the warm feeling of your approaching release and the way the alpha behind you groans your name are on your mind.

“I can’t…please,” your body shudders the moment you fall over the edge, squeezing Geralt tight enough to trigger his knot to expand. “Knot me, alpha.”

“Such a good girl now,” he laps at your neck, rutting into you at a pace taking your breath away. “Let me feel this again.” Warmth fills your belly, and you whine low when he pushes his knot as far as possible into your womb to release his seed into your body.

“Alpha,” a sting lets your body shudder again, forcing another orgasm out of you when Geralt does something he never wanted to do. He claims his omega…

“Thank goodness,” Jaskier gasps, stumbling toward your house. “Roach, I feared you two got lost.” Unimpressed Geralt’s horse looks at the hay his owner gave him hours ago. “Is he still inside?”

If Roach could talk the horse would tell Jaskier not to enter your house, but the mare can’t talk so Jaskier stumbles into the house, turning pale at the sight of his friend holding you down, one hand in your hair, the other at your hip the alpha ruts into you again.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Geralt would be ashamed if he could feel anything but he’s determined to let you feel pleasure and doesn’t have the time to take care of his nosy companion.

“You will not come back,” watching Geralt grasp for his sword you look at the man who can’t feel anything but the connection, the bond between the two of you. “I guess I should pay you for your help.”

He looks down at you, a frown on his face at the feeling spreading through his body. “I’ll be back in a few days. This place is mine now, you are mine,” he snarls before you are pinned to the wall. “Four days, be ready for your alpha by then…”

“Four days,” you whimper, returning the bruising kiss he forces on your lips. “I’ll be waiting, alpha….”

Four days and a half later…

You waited for four days, always hoping he will return but with every fading hour you know – he will not come back to you, just like your husband.

When another day turns into night, you sit in front of your house, carefully touching the mark Geralt left on your neck. Tears threaten to fall when you hear someone stomp toward your house, yelling orders at Jaskier.

“Girl,” Geralt grunts, tossing his bags at Jaskier. “I want food, wine, and,” he grins, which is unusual for the Witcher, “my omega.”

“I will sleep in the barn,” Jaskier must watch his companion pick you up to carry you into the house, slamming the door shut with his foot. “I’ll just wait for the next hunt or something then. I am good, Geralt. Don’t you worry…”

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soft-vainilla

8 months ago

PAC: extremely short "yes or no"

think of a question that can be answered with simple yes or no

pick a photo and get you answer

take only what resonates 🧍

Pile 1

Yes, but you need to put in the work

Pile 2

Possibly, yes (but it'll take some time)

Pile 3

Absolutely yes!

Pile 4

Yes, but you need to put in the work

Pile 5

Mostly no, but there’s a small chance

Pile 6

Yes, but someone has to help you with it

203 notes View Post

soft-vainilla

3 years ago

"That's that beautiful, good luck."

"You're good, kind. I'm not."

"Don't be afraid, I won't bite."

"You can thank me later, fluffball."

"You're smart. Life is going to be hard for you."

"We fled together. I showed you my home..."

"Strange one, there's a blend of strong character and a sense of insecurity within you."

"You follow me without asking where we're going. You trust me. And I trust you."

"You know what I do. Today I am alive, tomorrow I might be killed."

"Think about yourself more often, beautiful one. Okay?"

"Just stay with me."

"Finally."

"You're already the best."

"To have a choice is freedom. Freedom is unknown. To be afraid of the unknown- means to be afraid of choice, of freedom."

"Take it. If you decide not to wear it, I won't take it to heart."

"Even if you try very hard... (smiles) I don't think anything is possible between us."

"It will be harder to kill, the second time."

"This is so that no one touches you if you don't want them to. Aim for the throat."

"Congratulations on your first, Mei."

"Don't worry. You are here. Close. That much is more than enough."

"If you want, I'll never bring this up again, and it will all remain a surreal dream..."

"You're beautiful, brave -maybe even mysterious- but definitely not scary."

"Would you like to stay here for the night? Or longer?"

"What you are to me; what I am to you."

...

"Everything will be fine."

29 notes View Post

soft-vainilla

7 months ago

୨ৎ the girl with everything in her bag .ᐟ

your ultimate guide on how to prepare a bag for whatever the world throws at you!

( any bag should work ─ you could use a smaller bag or use a bigger bag with heaps of pockets! )

WHAT TO PACK .ᐟ

face/makeup related:

makeup for touch ups (if you wear it!)

spare lash glue (if your use falsies!)

lip balm

lip gloss

mini flip mirror

body, hand and hair related:

deodorant (preferably spray on)

mini perfume/body mist

mini lotion

hand cream

hand sanitizer

nail file

spare pad/tampon

hairbrush and/or comb

hair ties

pencil case:

mini notebook

pen and pencil

eraser

mini ruler

sharpener

highlighter

purse/wallet essentials:

house/car keys

drivers license (if you drive)

credit card

spare loose cash

any useful gift cards you own (make sure they have money on them and that they're not expired!)

misc:

gum

mints

wet wipes

mini tissue pack

a snack

bandages (you can also go the extra mile and make a mini first aid kit, although this is optional!)

if you have braces, a toothbrush and mini toothpaste in a travel case are a must!

6K notes View Post

soft-vainilla

3 years ago

pink is a good color and that’s that

75K notes View Post

soft-vainilla

1 year ago

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

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