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You were biting your lip so hard you could taste blood forming on the edge as you reached out a pink tongue lashing away at the wetness staining your lips, as your nails gripped into the wide shoulders that should have been hard enough to draw blood but didn’t because of whose shoulders they were. Y/C/E meet blazing amber as the intensity of your connection dragging you deeper down the well of emotions.
The words “Good Boy, Geralt” rung in your head over and over again.
A moment of very brief clarity reminds you of how you got here….
*A few Hours Earlier*
It had taken you both a long time to admit your feelings for one another. Many nights of trying not to get caught staring when he entered the tavern with Jaskier, subsequently keeping him in check whenever he tried to use his charms on you.
You were a simple barmaid, paid a small fee to keep the glasses full and deal with handsy folks who forgot that you were not a part of the meal they were being served. You always appreciated whenever Geralt made his way back into town. His appearance kept the men focused on something besides getting you to lift your skirts and the women, well they enjoyed seeing which could alleviate the infamous Witcher of his prized coin. You also pretended not to hear them bragging about how skilled he was in the bedchamber. You kept your head down and tried not to attract too much attention, pushing the flights of fancy that struck you when you thought about the rumors of what The Witcher was capable of in and out of the bedroom.
It had been such a night when the pair came into the tavern. Jaskier did his normal bid of entertaining the people and you floated from table to table refilling ale and bringing more plates of food. Most were bright enough not to bother Geralt right out, settling for whispered slights and pretending they weren’t staring. You pretended to be that much more clumsy when you heard them insulting him.
He didn’t deserve that. You didn’t understand how people could be so unkind to someone who risked their life to rid them of the very thing they feared. Yes he may have done it for coin but could you blame him?
The world treated him horribly but he didn’t deserve it.
He also treated you with respect every time he came in. He even tipped you which surprised you at first given how he felt about getting his coin.
You brought him over the drinks to start on while you helped other tables. One of the Lords and his friends had decided to come into the tavern as well and had been giving you hell since they stepped in.
Lorne was a cretan and the bane of your existence. He was an entitled boy around the same age as you, who had been tossing mixed compliments and dodgy proposals your way since you were children. You’d been turning him down since then too.
Despite you not having any family to speak of since the loss of your mother a few winters back to illness and a father long since dead from fighting a pointless war for a king who valued Gold more than his people. It had been obvious that Lorne had not been what you wanted.
Many had believed you a fool for his father sat on the town council, held titles and conferences with the King himself, even your mother had told you to take the easy road and marry him, but you would not hear of it.
The man could barely read.
What good would he serve you except shooting off some Forrest animal and keeping you barefoot and pregnant, you had no use for that.
You finally pulled away from Lorne’s table, managing to slip away during one of Jaskier’s jigs and scuffle to the back of the Tavern. You immediately hear scratches at the door and whine. You had a middle size runt of a brown dog that came begging for scraps every night but as much as you pretended you didn’t want him around, he was really the sweetest thing you encountered. You wouldn’t dare tell the owner about him. They’d be more likely to serve him up than to let him hang around. You had been thinking about it long enough and decided that taking him home with you would be for the best. Besides you could use the protection and he needed a home.
You toss for meat that was unsalable yet still edible and toss it onto an old metal plate and give him some fresh water as well, then you go back inside and hope your friend would stay, you knew that the scraggly little pup wouldn’t last long in this town.
You barely stepped through the door back in the main room when Lorne is calling you over, with his speech slightly slurred you are more than glad you may call for closing soon. You find yourself glancing at Geralt more than you should during the course of the night. He never went without a fresh pitcher of ale and you made sure he had his fill of the roast lamb being served.
You never notice the frown always etched upon his face deepens everytime you are forced to be near Lorne and his creepy friends.
“Alright gentlemen you must go for the night. Your wives will be expecting you. You know the rule if they come looking for you, the prices double.”
You say with a joking lilt to your voice hoping to keep them from feeling affronted but making it understood that the tavern was closing to anyone that wasn’t a guest.
That was more than half the room. You see the men gathering to leave, all sitting various stacks of coin on the tables. Lorne uses your distraction of the moment to pull you into his lap.
“But Y/n I shall have no one to come look for me.”
“We both know your mother Lorne. She will toss a fit should she find you here. You should go.”
You offer as you stand up prying his meaty hands off of you. He relents as he was more compliant when he had been drinking. Jaskier had taken a seat across from Geralt and they were talking, or more like Jaskier was talking and Geralt was staring at the scene between you and Lorne. You bring Jaskier a plate of food and refill their ale. Jaskier was the opposite of Geralt in that he always had something to say. He waits until Lorne has stumbled out of the door before he speaks out across the empty room to where you have opted to wipe down the bar.
“I see Lorne still has not learned to take the hint.”
Says the bard before stuffing a piece of potato into his mouth. You shake your head with a smile.
“No he has not. At this point it is just an ego thing. He’s just pissed that I won’t give him the time of day. He is used to women throwing themselves at him. No is hardly in his vocabulary.”
“Y/n you have the patience of a saint. Most women would have knocked him upside his head for some of the foul things he says and his grabby hands.”
“Oh I have when we were younger.” You speak with a smirk and start wiping down a table next to theirs.
“Clearly not hard enough because he does not take a hint well.” Geralt grunts out clearly displeased with the little display.
“Yeah well he certainly is an annoyance. ‘Tis is my life. Could be worse….my family could have actually betrothed me to him so there is that. That being said the trade off for not being married off to that boar of a man is working here. I will be finishing up in the back and heading home, leave your plates and mugs on the bar. I’ll take care of it in the morning. Goodnight.”
You leave the Witcher and the Barr to finish their meal, knowing their rooms were just up the stairs where most of the other patrons that was staying there had already retired to their rooms. You avoid making eye contact with Geralt. His intensity is still off making your heart race under the amber gaze. You can feel yourself flush and you shuffle your back, cleaning up what your coworkers left behind, which thankfully one enjoyed tending the bar and the other well she used her barmaiden position as Morning e of a way to meet….”her real customers”. You didn’t think on her much as she was still good to you and looked out for you when she could.
You cleaned up as you normally would, packing up a few scraps from the leftovers for your own meal and maybe as a treat for your little friend that hopefully hadn’t drifted too far from the Tavern so you could lead him home. You open the back door as you did earlier, ready to toss out something to bring the dog back. You step out the back door and almost immediately you are grabbed by the arm and yelp falls from your lips as you are pulled completely from the doorway, and thick fingers enclose over your mouth, smothering the sound behind familiar fingers and scent that you spent as much time as you could avoiding it. You fight back, managing to turn yourself around and push back, coming face to face with Lorne, whose bad breath and crooked smile was entirely too close to your face, so you pull away even more, forcing Lorne to grip you tighter around your arm.
“What are you doing?! Let me go!!!”
Your free hand reaches up and slaps him, which angers him and he pushes you into the stone wall of the tavern.
“You stupid bitch! All I try and do is give you a good life! I am tired of waiting! You make me look like a fool in front of my friends and comrades. You shall be my wife.”
“Like Hell I will! You cannot force me to do anything! Let me go!”
“You seem to think you have a choice! Your father offered a contract on you years before his death. The only stipulation being that you become of age and I save your pathetic hovel you call a home. I was kind enough to wait a few years beyond what was required as I was at war, and I was hoping you stop playing this foolish teasing game and acquiesce to being my wife. I should have listened to my mother sooner and forced this before the courts long before now.”
You look at the raging bull in horror as the life you had only just begun to envision for yourself begins to slip away. The very thing that you’d joked about earlier had actually been your fate all along. To marry this brute??
“No.”
You whisper, your horrified tone making Lorne smirk pressing himself against you. You push back and he just grips harder. Internally you panic, the pride you had before in being the level-headed one who keeps her calm falters as you thrash harder and you head butted Lorne as he tries to lean in to kiss you.
It was his turn to yell.
Your head is swirling as Lorne lets you fall to the ground holding his bleeding nose. It’s only for a few moments because he is back on you again grabbing you and just as he rears back to punch you.
“You will learn to respect me you little….”
Frightened of the incoming blow, let out a scream of fear, your little brown pup, comes flying from a dark alley, teeth bared, growling as he clamps down on the arm meant to punch you. Lorne lets out a scream and tries to shake him off and in the midst of the screaming and dizziness Geralt comes barreling through the tavern’s back door. The dog goes flying and Geralt crosses over to Lorne, a murderous expression on his face, lifting him into the air by his neck, punching him across his jaw. You get to your feet wanting to check on the dog who came to your defense and you knew with Geralt now in the alley, no harm would come to you.
The small animal was breathing but whimpering from his toss across the alley. This pissed you off and you were glad to see Geralt with his forearm pressed against Lorne’s neck, his voice deep and with a growl
“-you ever think of touching her again, I will remind you exactly what I do as a Witcher. Your insides will be the new decor and your head hanging from the rafters. Do I make myself clear?”
Lorne looks like he is ready to shit himself and he manages a garbled up yes, and Geralt tosses him meters away, where Lorne gets up holding his face, and he pauses for a second to look at the angry Witcher who bares his teeth for the umpteenth time, his large canines and stark pale hair making him look like every bit the White Wolf his name implied. Lorne hightailed it down the street.
You are looking down at the dog, and resort to feeling him over, his whimper gets louder as you graze over his front right paw.
“You are such a good boy. Thank you for protecting me.”
You brush his head with soft hands and you put his head in your lap, gentle words repeated into his ears as you felt bad for the injured dog as he was only in pain because of you. You look up to see Geralt looming over you.
“I told you that imbecile should have been handled long ago. Are you okay Y/N?”
You look up into his molten gold eyes as they stare down at you in concern. You had a mild headache but you were more worried about the dog.
“I am fine Geralt. I am more concerned for little Maxwell here. He was such a good boy and so loyal. He protected me from Lorne’s bullish behavior. Now he is hurt because of me.”
He leans down to you and Max, examining your newly named dog over. The dog whimpers again but doesn’t pull away from Geralt. You comfort him as Geralt sits his hurt paw down gently.
“I feel so bad.”
“Y/n you have no control over the pursuits of men. He has no right to touch you without your consent.”
“Apparently my father gave him all the consent he needed prior to his death. If not for Maxwell just being a good boy, he would have bashed me over the head and dragged me to the priest.”
“And here I was thinking I was doing that. Maybe you should be calling me a good boy.”
The Witcher says with a smirk and he lifts Max in his arms. You smile back and let Max lick at your palm and he doesn’t try to flee Geralt’s arms which tells you that your feelings on Geralt being a good man were correct.
“Maybe I should. You seem to be a sight bit more helpful in the position I find myself in.”
You say with a small laugh and Geralt seems amused as well.
“You know I could escort you back home. You know just to fulfill my duties. Can’t be a ‘good boy’ and all if I didn’t make sure you made it home safe.”
“The real question is Are you a good boy Geralt?”
He doesn’t respond, instead following you leading the Silver haired man from behind the tavern and to your house….
*End flashback*
“Oh fuck me so good Geralt!”
Now here you were, limbs entangled with Geralt’s as he drives both of your bodies to unimaginable heights. Your toes curl as his girth stretches you wide, plunging in and out of your depths. It had been like this for over an hour, across multiple orgasms that had begun with his head between your thighs and has continued with your hand stretched over his back, gliding slightly over the sweat and scars formed over his wide body. You welcome the brush of his coarse chest hair against your breasts, your insides sucking him in deeper, which makes him grip your hips and grind his deeper into you. He brushes a spot that makes you thrash about, but his size compared to yours doesn’t allow you to move much.
“Geralt! Oh yes Geralt!”
You lock your legs around his waist, and take in his scent at the junction between his neck and his massive shoulder. He grunts in your ear, a sound that had always turned you on. You involuntarily clench around him. He takes it as further encouragement, his famous Witcher stoicism fleeing as he sits up his calloused hands wrapping around the back of your knees and pulling them further apart, with a hunger in his eyes that could only be resolved with your body. You take in all of him, the wild hair, the even wilder yellowed eyes, coupled with the way his abs rippled as he thrusts into your very willing body. His new angle makes him sink deeper and your head tosses back into your pillow.
“There you are, I knew there was more behind the shy girl. You were just waiting to be mine weren’t you?
He says with clear amusement in his tone, not even sounding winded despite him never slowing down his stroke.
“Harder! Please Harder!!”
You say as his thrusts get more erratic, his cock making you scream his praises, thankful but not actually caring about nearby neighbors. You never thought you’d be here with him despite your fantasies about it, however he was blowing all of yours out of the water. Especially when he stops just short of your next orgasm, hands moving you to all fours.
You both let out a groan as he slides into you, leaning down so he is pressed against your back, pounding into you, with just as much energy as he did at the beginning of all of this proving his infamous reputation of ridiculous stamina was well earned. He had been going for more than an hour and he was still pushing you to every limit you thought you had. One hand grips at your hip and the other grabs your breasts and squeezes. You moan his name into your pillow once more.
“Fuck me Geralt! Yes!”
“And just what do you think I’ve been doing all this time, little one?”
He pushes himself deeper again and you Yelp. He clearly likes it, like hearing you make noises for him. Drawing them out of you like a towel to be wrung. You were quickly nearing the 4th cliff you would fall over for the evening.
“Damn it please let me cum.”
He chuckles and you can see that smirk despite facing away from him.
“Am I a good boy now Y/N?”
He asks you with a growl as he sits up and presses down on your back, making you arch your back even further and he reaches around to tease your clit just as his cock grazes that spot inside of you again. You feel him throbbing inside of you signifying his impending orgasm. He was intent on dragging you down with him and you were willing to go.
“Please cum with me!”
He thrusts harder and that flings you over the edge. A few particularly deep thrusts later and he is filling you deep just as he had earlier in the night, pulling out after a few moments collapsing next to you on the bed which wheezes like the overworked thing it was. You drop your hips, feeling the essence of you both running from your body and you take the moment to catch your breath, your heavy pants filling the silence of the room now that the bed was no longer making noise from your combined efforts. The candles provide small sources of light making the sheen of sweat glow off your bodies. It makes Geralt look like a young god and you a Meer mortal in his presence, thought little did you know Geralt would offer that the description was reversed. You seemed like the goddess and he the demon unworthy of you.
Originally posted by lapanterarosa
You turn your face to Geralt who was on his back and looking at you. You brush a sweaty lock from his face as his eyes close and he clearly is touch starved and enjoys the softness of your hands. You mildly wonder how long he has good since someone touched him in kindness and you slightly vow to always be the one to proved that touch.
And from that night on you never left Geralt’s side…