Eyes of Honesty | ~ Geralt of Rivia ~

Chapter 18 - Fat Man's Pants

Note : adding a new chapter. I may add more between the last chapter and this one, but for now this is the order ~~

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"Jaskier, give her your trousers."

"My what? I dare say the only way the lady gets my trousers is by removing them herself."

Geralt growled.

"Fine!" Jaskier moved to unlatch his plat

"Not the ones you're wearing" he spat, eyeing Jaskier menacingly.

"And if I may add one not so ... particularly colorful." Faye winced with a grimacing smile. 

"First you demand my clothes, now you insult them. That's just rich." Jaskier complained but dug through his bag. He found a dark grey pair and tossed them to Faye in irritation who smiled triumphantly. "I suppose you'll also want my shirt too." he grumbled digging in his rucksack again. 

"No, she'll wear mine, otherwise she'll smell like you." Geralt said, tossing her one of his dark grey, nearly black shirts.

"We can't have that, can we?" Jaskier mocked. 

Faye disappeared behind a line of trees.  The bard tried acting causally, but all the while was straining to catch a glimpse of the woman, that was until he felt a blade wiz by his head. 

"Alright!" Jaskier yelped in surrender, turning his back, "touchy, touchy" he grumbled snidely, fumbling in his bag just to be doing something with his hands.

"Oh god I need a fat man's pants, I can't fit these over my hips." She called out. "you don't think I could get away with just wearing this, do you?" she asked rounding the tree only wearing Geralt’s tunic, the top just covering her lovely treasures, all while exposing her soft creamy legs and luscious thighs. 

“Faye '' Geralt growled as Jaskier stood there gaping.

“She’s giving me a new perspective on the word plump.” Jaskier whispered, tilting his head sideways as he regarded her with interest. 

Geralt shoved him and marched towards Faye, a scowl etched into his face. The witcher felt a bit wild. The sight before him, his scent mixing with hers, he didn’t know whether he wanted to wrap her up as a nun or tear the remaining shreds of clothing off of her. 

“Give me the pants” He growled between grit teeth. His eyes were molten lava and Faye was trapped in their depths. She lamely handed the trousers over to him, unable to look away from his heated gaze. 

Geralt used his teeth and ripped at the pleats to widen the waist. He shoved them back towards her, “Put these on.” He bit out each word, his eyes burning her with their intensity. 

“Or what?” She dared to whisper, swallowing hard, holding her breath, knowing she was playing with fire. 

He took a step closer to her, his breath fanned her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. Her heart squeezed in her chest at his nearness, at the look of desire so clearly written on his face, that held a hint of wild abandon.. 

“...Or I’m going to back you against that tree, wrap your legs around my shoulders and fuck you with my mouth until you’re swollen and begging me to have mercy, and just when you think I’m finished I’m going to bend you over and fuck you against that tree.” He whispered against her ear. 

As he turned Faye’s knees buckled and she clung to the tree, her breaths were shallow, her heart pounding. He affected her entirely too much. She knew then that she was doomed. She was in love with him body and soul. 

Faye tried to collect herself, she put on the newly modified pants and emerged from the woods.

Geralt had his arms crossed, a scowl on his face and Jaskier refused to look in Faye’s direction, his ears still red from embarrassment.

“Oi Wticher, whad ya th’nk?” Faye barked out in a terrible peasant accent, doing a spin. 

“The faster we get you out of those clothes, the better.” He growled, gnashing his teeth together. 

“”Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” Faye simpered, eyeing Geralt hungrily...