☜ The Witcher Imagines ☞

Imagine if Geralt reveals your new home

Requested

Geralt didn't have a bed, not a fireplace to keep him warm, not even a place to hang up his swords if he ever slowed down.

Geralt of Rivia, infamous Witcher and Butcher of Blaviken didn't have a home.

Well... not until he met you. Honestly, you weren't the most feminine of women. Your hair remained in a ponytail night and day and cut in the summer months when you truly couldn't stand the heat. You owned no dresses, only armour clothed your body but your eyes, when they looked at him they screamed for your undiluted love for the Witcher (even despite his rough disposition).

You found him interesting if you wanted to put it simply. You followed every story, knew each song, you may have been a sell-sword but were still young at heart and had crushes. Even while you worked, chopping down men (and women) of good and evil, your victims always died to the woman who sung about the Witcher.

Of course, that was true and once you met Geralt you understood why you fell for his tales in the first place. He was rogue, a lone wolf -much like yourself- and sparked a wave of inspiration. Especially, in your fighting.

Once you were free from work that one month, you tracked him down until you practically sold your soul. His first impression of you was... troubling. But soon enough with your dazzling charm and feminine wiles... you managed to snag the Witcher for all his worth. You stole his heart immediately as he took yours (which was in barely a second).

Now, he was carrying you over the freshly built entrance to your new home. The one with a fire place, a wide bed covered in the blankets you wish you bought that one time and by the door? Well, a stand for your swords.

Here you felt safe, you felt that you could be the girl you wanted without the pressure of being tough. You weren't just a sell sword anymore, you were also a wife.

"It's beautiful" you confessed in awe, unable to take your eyes from the freshly built kitchen.

You always fought Geralt to stoke the fire, catch the game and cook. On the road you were the queen of adventure cuisine. Your husband didn't mind anyway, he took your kills after all and the coin- to your displeasure (for safe keeping of course).

"I made sure it'd be ready" he smiled lightly before holding your body against his wide chest.

"It's amazing, look how big the stove is! The tiling is so pretty and-" you gasped in excitement, an apron freshly embroidered with flowers at the hem hung from a hook beside the cupboards. The stitching was so delicate and you couldn't help but run your hands across the fabric.

Geralt simply watched from the threshold as you opened every draw and took a single china plate into your hand. Everything was fragile compared to himself and you were just right to handle it. Honestly, he'd never witnessed you be so gentle.

The apron was already shielding your wedding dress of pale blue as you scoured the house further. A long chair had velvet covering it and pillows decorating the deep red of the material, it was before a fire and place upon a pretty rug of intricate patterns. Above the fireplace was the head of the first stag you'd hunted with it's beautiful stripe of white lining its nose.

The further you went into the house the wider your (E/C) eyes grew with amazement. Eventually, you found the bedroom and felt a smirk tickle at Geralt's lips as you ran your hands across the comfy feather-stuffed blankets and pillows. Whatever your newlywed husband was thinking so were you and soon enough did you feel wet kisses trail up from you nape toward your lips. The Witcher always managed to arrange you in any position he desired.