Multi-fandom Oneshots

Deep In The Meadow {Geralt of Rivia}

The breeze pushed against your face, causing the smell of wildflowers to surround you, lightening your heart after a heavy morning.

You awoke to the sound of pounding on your door and a bloody Geralt on your step, leaning against the doorway as he could barely stand. You had ushered him in quickly, stumbling under his weight. Tucking him into your bed, you had to work fast on healing his wounds. Afterwards he had fallen right to sleep and has rested ever since.

Feeling secure he would be alright, you headed out to gather more ingredients from your garden as healing him had used up an abundance of your readied stock.

Opening the door to your cottage, you keep your eye on Geralt's sleeping form as you place down your baskets on the table. Crossing into your bedroom area, you seat yourself on the edge of the bed, looking over Geralt and the perspiration coating his face. You urge your heart to slow down as you watch him. He was alright. He was safe. You had saved him in time.

Geralt began to twitch and jerk, his brows furrowing deeply. You move closer to him in concern.

"Geralt?" You call out, your concern clouding all rational thought. And that's what caused you to reach your hand out, preparing to move some hair out of his face. But Geralt's eyes snapped open to see your hand darting out towards him and he reacted instinctively.

One hand clasped around your wrist and the other jerked out to wrap around your neck. Your eyes widened and you let out a yelp as Geralt lifted you and brought you down on the other side of the bed. His hand on your neck kept you from bouncing and his body was quick to hover over yours.

His eyes frantically moved around your face and they almost immediately calmed when he noticed it was you. But they soon widened again as he realized his hold on you and his hands loosened. You let out a few heavy pants.

"Good afternoon," you greeted breathlessly. Geralt looked into your eyes and your heart picked up as his pupils dilated. Then he furrowed his brows into their usual position and let his forehead drop into your neck.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," he said gruffly, his voice partially muffled by your skin. You smiled softly, your hand coming up to run your fingers through his hair. A guttural rumble sounds from his throat.

"It's alright, I'm used to it," you try to assure him. Geralt was usually sleeping outside, not having enough coin to rent a room. He had to be vigilant. You couldn't expect him to let down all his defenses when he was with you. You had learned not to startle him and an incident like that hadn't happened in a long time. But your concern for him outweighed your own self preservation. Geralt shakes his head against your neck.

"You shouldn't have to be used to it," he argues, guilt and a fierce protectiveness seeping through his tone.

"I want to be," you argue back, a little more sternly. Geralt was stubborn. You knew if he got any solid ideas about leaving you for your own protection, it would take a lot to convince him you wanted to be his. It took a strong voice to be heard over the raging thoughts in his head. Geralt went silent and you knew you had settled any thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Geralt said again, his body sagging into you more deeply. He was cold. You squeezed your eyes tightly as you tried not to think how close he had come to death.

"As you've said," you state curtly. Geralt sighs and his hot breath contrasts greatly to his cold body, causing you to inhale shakily.

"For coming here. I shouldn't have." His words shake you out of your own dreadful thoughts as you process them. Your head rears back as you try and cast him an incredulous look.

"And why not? You were hurt," you explain, your voice showing how ridiculous you thought he was currently being. His hand leaves your neck to dig deeply in your hair, clutching the strands close to your scalp as his other hand threads your fingers together, squeezing them tightly.