Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Travelling with Geralt wasn’t your idea of a good time. But you couldn’t deny the coin.

He’d begun to realize that, despite his reputation as the white (lone) wolf, solo quests were becoming far too dangerous. So he hired you.

A witch.

Jaskier’s been out of his mind attempting to write songs about the Witch and the Witcher, and so far has been unsuccessful at getting one to catch on. That didn’t stop him, though, from annoying the hell out of the two of you when he was along for the ride.

Sure, Geralt was annoying, and full of himself, and cynical, and gruff, and rude, and always smelled of death, but it wasn’t always horrible. When Jaskier was with you, the sound of him strumming his lyre as the three of you sat by the bonfire in relative silence was nice. Sometimes you enjoyed the moments after a fight, when Geralt would wince as he laid down and rolled his eyes when you set to work on healing him, despite his insistence he would heal in time. Sometimes you’d catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye as you made magic dance at your fingertips, a way to entertain yourself during a night watch, or during down time. Sometimes the two of you would spar, to see what was more powerful; magic, or sword. It always ended in a draw, the two of you sweaty and panting with effort, his yellow eyes dancing in amusement at your frustration at not being able to best him.

There were other things too: the way the two of you worked effortlessly together in a fight. You didn’t speak a word to each other, but each and every one of your moves danced perfectly along with his, well-timed and well-executed, magic and metal working together in perfect harmony.

And there was the glint in his eyes as he watched you embarrass yourself yet again while drunkenly celebrating another defeated beast. Whether you’d failed at picking up the guy you were hitting on, or you’d scared him away with talk of your Witcher companion, the two of you always seemed to end your tavern nights the same way: Him with a whore, and you, in another bedroom, listening to the banging of his bed against a wall and willing yourself to ignore it and go to sleep.

There were nights like tonight when you were awake, and you got to watch the way the light of the fire flickered over his face as he slept. He looked troubled even in his sleep, and you knew no matter how long the two of you spent together, you would never learn why. But his face wasn’t tightened up the way it was when he was awake, and the sides of his mouth were even pulled up in what looked to be a smile.

“Haven’t you looked your fill, (y/n)?” Geralt’s voice broke you out of your reverie and you startled. His small grin morphed into a smirk. “Your staring is quite unnerving.”

It took you no time to recover from the slight shock and embarrassment. “I’m curious,” you said, slipping off your stump and plopping down next to where he lay. He looked up at you and his eyes seemed even brighter when highlighted by the dancing flames. “You don’t talk about the past” He opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a hand. “Don’t say, ‘because it’s behind me’, because it’s obviously not. You carry it with you wherever you go.” His expression turned sour. “I’m not asking you to spill your guts, in fact I’m not even asking you to tell me anything about your past. But-” you pointed to a few scars on his face. “I’m curious how these were made. They look old, and nothing like any wound from any creature I’ve seen before. You have so many scars, so much history written on your body. My body bears no marks from my tremendously long life, and yet my histories are ones I am willing to tell. Why don’t you like to speak even of the beasts who gave you these?”

“Because I don’t like to brag,” He said simply.

“It’s not bragging. I’m genuinely curious what made these marks. I’ve never seen them. I’d like to be educated, acquainted.”

“Consider yourself lucky that you won't ever be,” He said gruffly as he turned back around, closing his eyes and effectively ending the conversation.

You sighed and returned to you stump, staring through the fire until the first rays of dawn began to break through, and you woke Geralt up to continue your journey to Trafantal, a town which had advertised a lich problem.

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The Queen of Trafantal greeted you on the bridge to her town later the following night, and you had never been fond of royalty but you could already sense the pure bitchiness of this woman.

Geralt stepped in front of you to make introductions, and her expression was sour at the both of you, upturning her nose as Geralt approached her. Knights on either side of her kept their javelins raised and pointed at him.

“Witcher,” She drew out the word, the disgust evident in her voice. It was obvious she had no other choice than to call on him, otherwise she wouldn’t have.

“I hear you have a lich,” he said politely, uncharacteristic for him. At the sound of his voice, she seemed to actually take him in for the first time. Geralt’s looks were not wasted on anyone, and even a woman as horrid as this one was noticing his strong jaw and rugged features. She eased her defensive stance and slinked closer to him. You could sense the arousal radiating from her, and you knew Geralt could as well.

“That we do, Witcher,” She drawled, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at him. He stood his ground, looking down at her from where he stood. “You’re not bad, white wolf. Maybe if this all goes well, you’ll be paid with much more than just coin.” She had leaned up to him to speak the last part, but it didn’t go undetected to your ears. He smirked at that and looked at her with approving eyes, and her head suddenly snapped up to look at you, a few paces behind Geralt.

“Is that jealousy I detect, girl?” Her head was held high as she looked at you in amusement - she must have some training in mage arts to be able to detect emotions. “What are you, his girlfriend? Another Witcher, perhaps? I only agreed to pay one. Perhaps I should send you both away and deal with it myself.”

Geralt stepped forward and put his hand up to stop her in her path towards you. “She’s merely a slave girl I picked up passing through town a couple weeks back. Her family was desperate for coin, and she’s a decent healer.” Indignation flowed through you at his comments, all untrue. You balled your hands into fists, knowing better than to fuck with whatever Geralt was talking towards, but offended just the same.

The Queen laughed cruelly. She stepped around Geralt’s arm and glided towards you. “What is it you’re jealous of then, my dear? Jealous to see such a powerful woman when you, a pathetic, ugly slave girl, are at her feet?” You kept your head down as was expected of slaves. She circled you, and you could sense her amusement and glee at her game. “Or are you jealous of my proposition to your Witcher. Do you think, when he fucks you at night, that he really enjoys it, because he enjoys you? You are just a vessel dear. He only uses you for his pleasure. If he were with me, it would be far, far more than that.” She whispered this last part, assuredly to prevent Geralt from hearing it, but you knew his hearing was much more refined than she thought. You kept your head down, but you felt amusement rolling off of him in waves.

Then the Queen slapped the back of your head. “Speak, Slave!” She yelled at you, and the air shifted. Anger radiated from Geralt and you willed him not to do anything. You could take this for a second if it meant getting out of this kingdom as quickly as possible.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you answered quietly, still looking at the ground. She laughed and then, seemingly satisfied with the ending, signaled her guards back inside the gate. She turned back towards Geralt and nodded him towards the town.

“Come. I will set you and your … girl up in a room on the outskirts of town. I expect the lich to be gone by tomorrow night.”

“We will do our best, Your Highness,” Geralt answered, but the friendly tone was gone from his voice. You quickly hurried to follow, walking behind Geralt at an acceptable distance for a slave, leading Roach behind you. You still looked at the ground, but whispered, knowing he would hear it but she would not.

“I’m fine, Geralt. Let’s just kill the lich and be over with it. No need to create a fuss. The slap didn’t even hurt that bad. She’s not as tough as she seems.”

At this you felt his anger dissipate a bit, being replaced again with amusement. You sighed in relief. If Geralt had started a fight with the Queen in this kingdom things would not have gone well.

As soon as the last of the Queen’s people had left your accommodations, you dropped the act, whirling on Geralt and giving him a withering glare.

“Slave girl?!” You asked, incredulous.

He only shrugged, another smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “It was the only thing I could think of on the spot,” he began, holding up a hand when you tried to argue more. He began stripping off his armor and outer clothes, until he remained in trousers and that half-buttoned top that allows a healthy glimpse of chest. “She was not the type of Queen to accept another powerful woman in her presence. I couldn’t tell her you were a witch, or we would have been sent away. And we cannot allow a lich problem in fester, otherwise it will become too much for any of us to handle. You could not sense that she felt threatened by your presence?”

His logic made sense, but you still couldn’t let go of the anger and indignation you felt not only because he referred to you as a slave, but because of how you had been treated by the Queen.

“Whatever, you and your honeyed words. Let’s just kill the lich so you can fuck the Queen and we can get out of here.”

“Is that jealousy I detect, girl?” he asked, smirking, echoing the Queens words from earlier. Normally you would have found it funny, but your temper flared again and you just stared at him before storming into the next room to put a fire on.

You weren’t jealous. Were you? You had never been jealous before, of the countless whores he fucked just on the other side of the wall, never had been jealous of his past escapades that Jaskier sometimes sung of. You had never…

“You’re angry with me.” Geralt’s words startled you and interrupted your train of thoughts. It wasn’t a question, but you sensed the curiosity.

“Yes.” you answered, forcing him to ask the question, not making things easy on him. ‘Why?’ he’s going to ask. You were angry because he called you a slave, angry because he mocked you when you were upset, angry because goddamnit maybe you were jealous and you hated it being stated. You were angry because -

“So, which one was it that you were jealous about?” He was trying to continue the joke, lighten the mood. You angrily threw more wood into the fire, stoking it with magic, willing it to flare up and burn him. He stepped closer to you, and you could feel his presence behind you, his shirt barely brushing your bared shoulders. “What was it that she said that got you so angry?” He stilled his body and you froze, questioning his motives for the proximity. “That is a peculiar scent wafting off of you, (y/n),” He spoke low and you cursed your own body. You tried to build your anger back up but it was gone, replaced by the heat of the fire and his body so close to yours. “Funny, I smelled it a little bit earlier… when the Queen said something about me ‘using you for my pleasure’...”

And there it was. You couldn’t stop your own body, your own mind. A wave of arousal rushed through you, and you clenched your legs together in an attempt to hide your reaction. It was true, and you didn’t know why, but when the Queen had floated that idea to you unintentionally, it had seemed appealing in ways you didn’t and couldn’t understand.

“Oh you arrogant-” you cut off when you felt Geralt’s hot breath against your neck.

“Don’t lie to me, (y/n),” he breathed out. “Remember that I can smell your arousal. I know the effect I’m having on you right now, just by being here, not even touching you.” You wouldn’t have expected Geralt to be one for dirty talk, but here he was, whispering filth into your ear. “Does that appeal to you, (y/n)? Do you want me to… ‘use’ your body for my pleasure?”

You didn’t say anything, didn’t turn, the reality of the situation just hitting you as another wave of arousal knocked through you. You were focusing on breathing evenly, somewhere in the back of your mind astounded at the effect the Witcher was having on you and wondering why you didn’t feel it sooner.

His hand began playing at the nape of your neck, giving you chills and making you arch your back a little. He slid his hand around to the front of your throat and held there, not applying any pressure, but resting it there and tipping your head back up towards him, forcing you to look at him.

“Answer me.” his golden eyes were so intense, and your mouth was instantly dry as he stared at you, lust apparent in his face.

“Yes,” you rasped out. Geralt’s eyes darkened and his hand immediately left your neck to untie your dress, letting it fall to the floor seconds later. You stood before him completely naked, and though you felt like you should be embarrassed at either your nudity or the admission you just made, you felt empowered by it. Geralt obviously wanted this too, sending a surge of confidence through you. You turned to face him and took a step back so you were fully in his view, eyeing him, watching him look you up and down, the hunger growing in his eyes.

He stepped back towards you and reached out with one hand before hesitating, pulling back for a second. You looked meaningfully at him; don’t stop now. You’ve started this, finish it. He crashed into you, lips devouring yours with a hunger that took you by surprise. His left hand was wrapped around your jaw, but his right was already squeezing and pinching your breast, seemingly in a frenzy of lust.

He slowed down slightly then, moving his lips in time with yours rather than just crashing teeth against teeth in hunger. His left hand slipped down to your other breast, tweaking your nipples at the same time and earning him a moan from you, which seemed to spurn him on. He trailed his hands down your sides, his calluses scratching you slightly, and then around to your backside where he grabbed two handfuls of your ass and lifted you up onto him. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked you over to the bed in the center of the room. He deposited you on the bed and pulled his shirt off in one swoop, his hands going for the fastenings on his trousers to pull them off as well.

You didn’t want to wait, and while he was distracted with his trousers you dipped a finger down into yourself, dragging it back up to play with your clit, moaning at the feeling. This caught Geralt’s attention and he slowed taking his trousers off to watch you, his eyes never leaving your sex.

He managed to get them off and you audibly gasped at the size of him, which he once again smirked at. He climbed over you on the bed and dipped his head down to take a nipple in his mouth, moving your hand out of the way with one of his own. He buried one, then two thick fingers in you, and you arched your back at the sensation. He looked up at you from where his head was near your breasts and when you met his eyes, he curled his fingers in a way that made you see stars.

“You’re dripping,” he gruffed, and as if to prove his point he pulled out his fingers with a whine from you and spread your slick up to your clit. You could only moan in response and grab fistfuls of his hair as he pushed his fingers back inside of you, scissoring them and stretching you for his cock. You began to tremble as you felt your orgasm build, and as he felt it he pulled his hand from you, using your slick to spread around his cock. When you whined at the absence of his fingers, he gave you a look. “My own pleasure, right?” He said it with an edge of cockiness, but there was a question behind his eyes.

You stared back up at him with what you hoped was the same intensity he was giving you. You didn’t usually talk much during sex, but you thought you’d give it a try tonight. “Take me, please Geralt.” You bit your lip and looked up at him with hooded eyes, watching lust retake his face. “I want you to. I want you to fuck me, fill me up and use my body to make you come. I want to see your face as you let go inside of me knowing I'm the reason for your pleasure. Please, Geralt, do it.”

He answered by gripping your thigh tightly with one of his hands, spreading you apart and pushing at your entrance. You both moaned as he pushed inside of you, and once you had adjusted and he tried out a couple experimental thrusts, he began pounding into you at a relentless speed.

“Fucking good,” he got out through gritted teeth, as your eyes rolled back and your orgasm washed over you. “Come around me, squeeze that tight cunt around my cock, feels fucking amazing.” This was quite possibly the most amount of words you’d heard him say at one time, but you couldn’t focus on it as he kept slamming into you. He was gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and you looked forward to looking in the mirror in the morning and tracing their outlines with your fingers. “Don’t look away from me, (y/n),” he demanded, but you struggled to comply as his fingers found your clit again and began rubbing. “I want you to come again, so I can feel it.” You finally managed to meet his eyes, finding him staring down at you with a burning intensity. “Come. Now.” You were helpless but to obey and your second orgasm tore through your body with double the force as the first one, leaving you a panting and whimpering mess as he continued to push into you. His thrusts were becoming erratic though, his breaths turning to grunts as he fought off the impending release. You still held his gaze as you begged to him.

“Come Geralt. I want to feel your seed spilling inside of me. I’ll take everything you give me, please, let go.”

His final thrust was accentuated with a deeper, longer groan as you felt him finally release within you, then pulling out and flopping to his back. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, then returned with a cloth to clean the two of you up. Then he laid back down next to you, eyeing your form as you curled up beside him.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked, his voice much softer than before.

“Only the good kind,” you smiled at him and he returned it, a rare genuine smile. “Give me a few minutes to recover and I will retire to the bedroll,” you mumbled sleepily, thinking about the slaves bedroll in the corner that was made up for you.

“Don’t,” he stated,and you unfurled to look at him questioningly. “The two of us can fit more comfortably on this bed than you’d be on the floor. Stay here.” His eyes gave nothing away, you could sense no emotion coming from him, but his face was stern. You decided not to argue.

“Whatever you say, Witcher,” you smiled and rolled over to the far side of the bed, feeling him turn over in sleep as well.

“Goodnight, witch.”

Chapter Text

You startled awake suddenly as you felt a pair of soft lips wrap around your clit, a finger teasing your entrance and long hair tickling your thighs.

Your hands flew to wrap in the strands of white hair that had fallen on the sides of his face and you arched your back, pushing your sex deeper into his face. You heard him chuckle, a deep sound that reverberated through your core and elicited a moan from you. You held him to you by his hair as he easily slipped a finger inside, curling it and hitting that spot inside of you. You gasped and he rubbed at that spot slowly as his tongue swirled infuriating circles around your clit. You pulled on his hair a little tighter, using it to re-angle his face so he was licking directly on the sensitive nub. You thought you saw him smile as he took the hint and closed his lips around it, sucking generously and adding another finger to the first. It didn’t take long, along with his long glances up through his lashes as his golden eyes met yours, for you to let go and ride out your orgasm on his face. His fingers slowed, his mouth removed from you as he watched you come apart, your hands releasing from his hair and falling onto the bed beside you. But as you started to settle down from the high, his fingers, still seated inside of you, began to work over that spot again.

Your back arched up high off the bed and gripped the sheets as he held your hips down with his other arm, biting down into your thigh and smirking as he enjoyed your unintelligible noises. Satisfied your hips would stay on the bed, he began licking his way up your body until he reached your neck, biting and sucking until a dark mark formed under his lips. After appraising with his artwork he returned his attention to your face, your eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open in pleasure.

“Wanna feel you come again, on just my fingers,” he gruffed into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. You already felt yourself clenching around him, and he smirked. “That’s it, come on. Tell me how good I feel.”

“Fuck, Geralt,” you gasped out, opening your eyes to see him staring down at you, focusing on the mark he made on your neck. You let go of the sheets and gripped the back of his neck, bringing him in for a kiss as you felt the coil begin to snap. You bit down hard on his lip as the second orgasm rolled over you, quickly licking the spot you had let go of to make sure you didn’t draw blood. Your eyes drifted closed in pleasure, and you felt him remove his fingers.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he ordered, and with difficulty you opened them just in time to see him lick his fingers clean of your juices.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and despite yourself the sight lit the fire within you again. He only smirked and, with barely a warning, slipped himself inside of you in one fluid motion, an easy feat given how soaked you were.

Compared to last night, the pace he set with his thrusts was extremely slow, pulling all the way out and then snapping back in, making both of you moan when he was fully seated. This went on for a while, and then he pulled out and flipped you over, pushing you down on your stomach and pulling your ass up into the air to meet him. He re-entered you, his thrusts still slow and steady, but hitting a deeper spot at a better angle that made you whimper.

You could tell he was holding back, you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want him to. You pushed your ass back into him, meeting him halfway with thrusts of your own, and he let out a grunt. He held your hips still, firm but gentle as he slowly rocked into you. Despite the slow pace you once again felt another coil begin to wind up in your core, and Geralt felt the first flutters of you squeezing around him. Suddenly, he stopped.

“What the fuck, Geralt,” You hissed, trying to move your hips despite his grip to continue the pleasure. But he was having none of it, just holding you there with him buried inside of you, both of you twitching. He didn’t say anything, and when you turned around to look at him he was looking your body up and down, starting at your arched back and ending at the ass he held in his hands.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and began slowly thrusting into you again. The coil had been unwound, but you knew it would build fast with him looking at you like that, with him squeezing handfuls of your cheeks. You started moving back against him, a movement that he didn’t stop this time, and he let his head fall back as the two of you fell into rhythm. Your hands fisted the sheets once more as you felt the orgasm build back up, but once again Geralt stopped, stilling your hips with his large hands.

“Seriously, Geralt, what the fuck?” You looked over your shoulder again to see him smirking at you, an amused and pleased expression on his face. “Oh fuck you,” you hissed, and in one move pulled yourself off of him and turned to face him. His face was one of surprise and while he was distracted you pushed him down onto his back, straddling him and holding his arms down at his sides. You knew he was strong enough to break out, but his raised eyebrow seemed interested in the outcome.

You smirked down at him and let go of his arms, choosing instead to hold them down with magic, which would be much harder for him to get free of. You then used your free hands to line yourself up above him, seating yourself on top of him with a sigh. The look on his face as he struggled to break free from the magic that bound him encouraged you, and you began riding him, rocking back and forth on top of him and letting your head fall back in pleasure.

He stopped struggling to watch you, letting out an occasional “fuck” as his eyes raked your form on top of him. His look was one of pure attraction and lust, and it spurned you on, your movements speeding up and pleasure increasing. Unable to do anything but sit there and feel you, you could tell Geralt was getting close too, and the two of you came together, your cries mingling with his grunts as you came down. You collapsed on top of him and, when you released the magic binding his arms to his sides, they wrapped around you and lazily stroked your back, sending chills down your sweaty body.

You lifted your hips up to pull off of him, feeling his seed drip out after him, and groaned. You stood up and grabbed the washcloth you had used to clean up last night, wiping yourself down and then tossing it to Geralt. He made quick work of himself and, when he was done, stood up and stretched, giving you a generous view of his expansive chest and abs.

“What a way to wake up,” you smiled at him, pulling on your dress and tying it behind you with magic as you set to work on fixing your hair. “Two orgasms before you even fucked me.”

Geralt smiled with half of his mouth and shrugged, pulling on his trousers and that accursed handsome silken shirt. “Last night was about my pleasure, this morning about yours,” he said with his back to you, satisfaction and pride rolling off of him. He turned back to you with a wide rueful smile, one you’ve grown to enjoy. “Now let’s kill ourselves a lich.”