THE WITCHER - one shots

7 // W H O R E S

KEY:

Y/N: YOUR NAME 

T/W:

SMUT (towards the end)!!!, MENTION OF RAPE, MENTION OF PROSTITUTION

WORD COUNT:

1831

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Geralt of Rivia. A man of few words and unresolved anger issues. You had saved him a few years back from Yennefer's charm and had been inseparable ever since. You shared a bed and everything was completely platonic. Some mornings you'd wake up wrapped in each others arms. Some days you wished for more, others, you were happy with how it was. Although being a 137 year old mage, you had had sex once when you were 15, you considered yourself a virgin. "Thinking will be the death of you, Y/N."

"I haven't died yet." You chuckled and looked over at him, you often wondered about his feelings for you. Sometimes you could swear he got a boner but would roll over straight away, natural when you're spooning, accidents happen. Right?

You had both killed a Kikimore earlier that day and you were sore as you were slammed against the ground, hard. So sore it almost felt numb. "How's your back?" Jaskier asked.

You looked at him and shrugged. "It'll heal."

"Whore tonight?" Jaskier looked at Geralt.

"No." He replied.

Geralt hadn't had a woman since you were attacked in your sleep by some beast last year and he has slept with you every night since. "Let him off the reins tonight, Y/N. I want a whore."

You scoffed and looked at Geralt, almost offended. Was that what they really thought about you? How did they speak about you behind your back? "Do what you want, I'm not stopping anyone." You shook your head at them. "I'm getting a drink. Have fun with your whores." You sounded so jealous, you were. Even after a year, you didn't want to lose your nights with Geralt, you had really grown an attachment to not sleeping alone.

There was one innocent kiss, a week after you and Geralt started sharing a bed. You were drunk and you wanted him to take you. He refused to do it while you were drunk so you've pretended like you never even remember it happening. "Ale." You looked at the bartender.

He nodded and smiled at you. "Your boyfriend, he's not here?"

"He's not my boyfriend." You chuckled. "His friend and him are obtaining whores."

The bartender nodded and passed you the ale. "He looks at you like a lover. Such a strange time we live in now."

You shrugged before passing him some coin. "Thank you kind sir." You headed to a secluded table in the corner. Geralt was right. Thinking was going to be the death of you. You hadn't realised how much you actually overthought every single thing.

"Are you ready to stop being a child Y/N?" He sat before you with his own ale.

You glared and sipped yours in silence. "You were that quick huh?"

"I payed for Jaskier." He rolled his eyes.

You shook your head. "I don't care Geralt. You can go fuck a whore if you want. I'm not your girlfriend."

Geralt continued staring and nodded slowly. "Then what is your problem?"

"There is none." You stood up and walked over to the bartender.

Geralt glared daggers at you and not for one second peeled his eyes away. "He sure is a strange man." The bartended chuckled.

"Try seeing him everyday." You rolled your eyes at him.