Bear Patiently, My Heart

For you have stumbled upon my awful art blog. Constantly learning, be nice. 

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Check out some fun podfic stuff that my friends and I did! Shoutout to best friend @quoththegayven for including us!

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Remember when this was an art blog? Lol.

Had a little art challenge in the friend discord server - draw a self portrait as your ideal fantasy self. So here is a sketchy Druid Orion (the antlers are a throwback to a conversation in the server a few days ago). Also a bonus chibi of me and a doodle of my friend playing guitar I did in under 2 minutes.

Thinking of doing a sort of “pay what you want” commission thing - send me like a dollar to submit a commission request for a fic or drawing, I’ll get it done within a week, then after it’s done pay me what you think it’s worth. Idk if anyone would be interested, but the offer stands.

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Hey! How are you doing? I hope you're feeling well. Please, take care of yourself and remember to keep hydrated and to have enough sleep.❤

You people are the sweetest ahhh. Sorry I’ve been neglecting this blog.

If you want to check something out though, my good friend @quoththegayven does some great podfic stuff on AO3 and I’ll be a guest on one of them very soon!

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I don't even watch the witcher but that "Think you'll sleep better with a cock in you?" line is 👌👌👌

Lmao that one-shot was less “This Is About The Witcher” and more “Orion Is Sleepy And Horny”

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Hey... how are you? I hope you're feeling better 🙏

Things are hard but getting better. Think I might do some writing tonight!

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Sorry I like dropped off the face of the earth - been dealing with some family stuff now that school is out and just got news that one of my friends committed suicide. So things are gonna be quiet for a little bit. Feel free to still send in art or writing requests and I will get to them eventually.

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Hey! Can I request prompts 12 + 117 + 129 with Jaskier x female reader please? A perfect mixture of angst and romantic fluff please? 💕 Thanks so much!!

A/N: My first Jaskier fic! Hope I did it justice. Keep these requests coming! I’ve got a few finals left to finish up so I can’t promise I’ll get to them right away but I like the inspiration to keep writing. Word count: 979 Masterlist

***

You couldn’t go on ignoring it anymore. It had been two months since your last period, and two weeks since the vomiting had started. At first you had convinced Jaskier that it was a mere stomach bug, but you knew that the signs all pointed towards something much more permanent. 

“Still?” you heard the bard asked as he kneeled down next to you on the washroom floor and placed a comforting hand on your back, “Y/N, maybe we should get you to a doctor.”

You shook your head and coughed, the sour taste of bile still stinging your throat. “I know what they’d say,” you said, not daring to meet your lover’s eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “because you’ve been like this for weeks now and I’m starting to think that maybe it’s more than-”

“I’m pregnant.” You spat the words out into the toilet with the rest of your vomit.

A silence hung in the air. “Are you sure?” Jaskier asked again, this time with a different meaning entirely. You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. Soon you felt Jaskier’s hand lift from your back and the tears began to fall at the thought of him leaving you for good. 

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, either unsure of what to do or unable to do anything. Eventually you felt that comforting hand on your back again and turned to see Jaskier holding a glass of water. He gave you a small smile before lifting the glass to your lips. You felt the cold liquid slip past your tongue, a refreshing wave down your burning throat. After a few sips you sat up proper, wiping the tears from your face. Jaskier stood and offered you a hand, which you gladly took. When you stood he wrapped his arms around you, his left around your waist and his right resting on the back of your head. You melted into your beloved bard as his fingers sank down your neck, caressing your curls. “Can I do your hair?” he asked softly. 

You nodded and the two of you walked across the hall to the bedroom you shared when he was in town. You sat cross legged on the mattress, and Jaskier slid in behind you. He took a white porcelain comb from the nightstand and began running it through your hair. It was a beautiful comb that your great aunt had given you, inlaid with delicate stones but large and strong enough to pull through your thick locks. You always loved when Jaskier combed your hair, he was thorough and deliberate but always slow and careful not to tug. Once your hair was free of tangles he set to work braiding it into an elaborate plait, weaving tendrils back away from your face. “How long have you known?” he asked tentatively, his hands still at work. 

“I haven’t been sure, until now,” you responded. A moment later you added hesitantly “It has to have been about two months.” You felt Jaskier pause and held your breath. It had only been a month since he’d returned from his last trip with Geralt. The two of you had never been exclusive - he was often gone for long periods at a time, and you both had needs - but the thought of raising another man’s child filled you with something that could be best described as shame. 

You released your breath only when you felt his hands back at work in your hair. Soon he was finished, and he tied the end of the plait with a bit of black ribbon. His hands gently rubbed up and down your forearms before coming to rest at your shoulders “Why don’t you lie down, darling,” you heard him say softly, “I’ll give you a massage.”

You quickly dabbed at a tear forming in the corner of your eye before turning and laying on your stomach, your head facing away from Jaskier. He began making quick work of your aching muscles, starting with your shoulders and neck. Then he moved lower, his dexterous hands kneading away knots in your back from over your clothes. You let out a breathy sigh at the release of tension and he slid his palms past your hips but didn’t linger; often these massages of his were purely a means to an end, but this wasn’t one of those times. His hands rubbed at the muscles in your legs before gently cupping your feet, careful not to tickle you too much. 

After finishing your massage he ran a hand gently up your legs and torso, to your shoulder and down your arm. You curled your legs to your chest in a fetal position, still unable to look the man you loved in the eye. “Y/N,” he said, gently caressing you, “Y/N, look at me.” You turned your head and saw Jaskier standing over you, a look of pure adoration in his eyes. “I want you to know that you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do right now,” he said, “and I’ll be staying here, no matter what, I’m staying here.” The words fell from his mouth like honey. “And even if it’s not mine, well... It’ll be mine. It’ll be mine... that is, if that’s okay with you.” He added that last bit quickly, a hint of nervousness in his voice. 

You turned over fully and placed a hand on his cheek. If there were any doubts in your mind about whether or not you loved this man then they had all been extinguished in that moment. You lifted your head up slightly and he dipped his down, meeting you in the middle for a passionate kiss. The future had never seemed so uncertain, but you were ready to face whatever was to come with the love of your life at your side.

***

Witcher Taglist:  @goatboats @witchergeraltofrivia @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @dreaming-about-starfleet @belalugosisdead

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49 and 50 for geralt x reader where they’ve been together for several years. Reader could be a soft/sweet and witty forest witch (not quite a mage but immortal and magical 🥺✨) I am also high and I appreciate you SO MUCH

A/N: Ooh I kind of actually like these two in order like that. This was a very quick drabble so it might not convey the forest witch too well but I think it reads well with them being in a long term relationship. I’ll try and do forest witch!reader soon! Word count: 299 (it’s a shortie y’all) Masterlist

***

It had been a long night, and sleep was evading you. For hours you had tossed and turned and tried every remedy you could think of but something was keeping you awake. You looked over to the sleeping mass next to you, Geralt’s snow white hair cascading in a tangled mass on the pillow. His slow breathing was a constant that usually lulled you to sleep. You snuggled your head into the nape of his neck, longing to be as close as possible to your beloved. Your bare legs intertwined as you draped your right arm over his.

“Quit touching me,” you heard him grumble into the pillow, “Your feet are cold.”

You smiled into the back of his head and interlaced your fingers with his, “You know you want it, sweetheart,” you replied cheekily.

Geralt turned over to face you. “Maybe I do,” he said, sleepily running a hand up the side of your body to your cheek, “maybe I’ll never tire of you touching me.” Gently, he pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm as they met yours. Your naked bodies pressed together, arms enveloping each other’s neck and torso, your legs wrapped around his. 

Soon you were one again, a tangled mass of two bodies, lovers who could only find warmth in the touch of each other’s skin. When you felt him inside you there was no vigorous rut, just a soft pressure as you stretched to fit his growing member. A low, quiet moan rose from your chest as he filled every inch of you in slow, passionate strokes. “Think you’ll sleep better with a cock in you?” Geralt said with closed eyes and a sly smile. 

You nuzzled into his neck, “perhaps I’ll keep you awake just a little longer.”

***

Witcher Taglist: @goatboats @witchergeraltofrivia @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @dreaming-about-starfleet

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Drabble Challenge: 1-150

Rules: Followers send a number to your ask and you write a drabble using that sentence/prompt in your piece. Try to keep up! Expect a TON of requests!

“The skirt is supposed to be this short.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“Who gave you that black eye?”

“You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?”

“I just like proving you wrong.”

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

“Forget it. You fucking suck.”

“Quit it or I’ll bite.”

“If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

“If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Take. It. Off.”

“Well, you’re coming home with me whether you like it or not.”

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.”

“Stop it! It tickles!”

“It’s okay to cry…”

“And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”

“D..did you just make that noise?”

“He’s a bad kisser.”

“You can scream if you want.”

“I didn’t know we were keeping track.”

“We’re playing checkers. If you don’t like it, leave.”

“One of them’s missing.”

“Save some for me.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re still mad?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“You better watch yourself.”

“Eat your lunch and you wouldn’t be hungry.”

“Why did we have to have kids?”

“Call on Line 1”

“He creeped me out. I’m not gonna lie.”

“I’m done! You can fix it!”

“Can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?”

“Where did he go?”

“You leave whenever you feel like it.”

“I forgot I was a single parent.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

“You’re going out dressed like that?”

“For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.”  

“Frost the damn cupcakes.”

“Well that’s the second biggest news I’ve heard all day.”

“You look pretty hot in plaid.”  

“I thought you were dead!”

“I thought it was a one-night-stand…and now we’re married…”

“We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

“Quit touching me. Your feet are cold.”

“You know you want it, sweetheart.”

“I’m your husband. It’s my job.”  

“You just wanted them because the light up.”

“That wasn’t very subtle.”

“He thinks he’s a mind reader.”  

“It’s just you and me tonight. I was thinking we could have a little fun.”

“I don’t do hugs.”

“Don’t talk anymore.”

“I’m just a guy with a wife, two kids, and a Harley.”

“How do I even put up with you?”

“I said get rid of it.”

“They didn’t just find out. They already knew!”

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

“Can you just man up and change his diaper?”

“Just don’t buy a goat. I don’t care what you do, just no goats.”

“I have a secret.”

“I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re strong, baby. You have to be.”

“He’s four years old!!”

“I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“Me and the boys will handle it.”

“You’re competitive and so am I, and it’s going to lead to a fight.”

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“You’re a dork, just like your father.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Daddy!”

“I lost our child.”

“That’s my shirt. So is that..wait?”

“My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?”

“There’s a surprise upstairs for you.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not your boss? Well then who is?”

“You can’t eat solids, only liquids until Thursday.”

“Come on, baby, up to bed.”

“They got you a present. Isn’t it sweet?”

“Am I scaring you?”

“Run! You said you’d work out with me!”

“After everything…I’d still choose you.”

“And when did you plan on telling me about this?”

“Trust me.”

“Scoot over a little bit, please.”

“You’re so clingy, I love it.”

“You didn’t just wake me up at 2am because you were ‘in the mood’.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“You’re cute when you’re all worried.”

“Stop being grumpy. It’s lame.”

“I don’t need a hero, I need a husband.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

“You got a cute butt.”

“I just got out of the shower, I can’t dance. What if my towel falls off?”

“Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.”

“Do you really think I could ever replace you?”

“Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.”

“…or we can chill in our underwear.”

“You can’t make up for it by giving me a tic-tac.”

“Keep pedaling and don’t stop, okay?”

“You, me, popcorn, two liter Dr. Pepper, and a movie. You in?”

“Have you seen my contacts?”

“Life is a highway, and I’m always drunk. So I’m not driving.”

“Quit stalling. Where’s your father?”

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

“Is he coming home?”

“I prefer blondes.”

“No more dogs. How hard it it to understand?”

“I let you win.”

“I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair.”

“Can I do your hair?”

“Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.”

“I told you not to jump on the bed!”

“He’s pampering me, let him be.”

“Ready or not, here I come.”

“I’m worried about losing my job!”

“Oh, did I scare you, big boy?”

“Happy new year!”

“Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!”

“You nap, I’ll stay awake.”

“It’s turbulence. It’s normal.”

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

“I’ll give you a massage.”

“You fell asleep in the tub?!”

“Are you doodling?”

“We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.”

“Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.”

“Are you scared…Then why won’t you look at the screen?”

“Enough with the pillow talk, I’m tired.”

“You had a nightmare, tell me what it was about so I can fix it.”

“We need groceries, not just junk food. You’re worse than the kids.”

“Is this our closet? Or your closet?”

“If I win, you do dishes for a week.”

“Fist bumps are cooler than high-fives…”

“Use your words.”

“Hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

“Ew, your hand is sweaty.”

“Get out of my face before I hit you.”

“I don’t care if your 4 or 40, you don’t hit people.”

“You only care about football, beer, and raking leaves.”

“Look! Fireflies!”

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

“I just need ten minutes.”

*Make Your Own*

Happy Writing! Visit @prompt-bank for more prompts!

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Alright bitches I’m high and ready to pump out some Drabble give my ideas smut or otherwise

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Gahhh the last fic I posted hit 50 notes which I know is like super small comparatively but I’m geeking about it.

[orionsart]

Hey! Can you add me to your Witcher tag list! I really enjoy your stories! 💛

Yes of course! Thanks so much for reading <3

[orionsart]

Take Your Time pt 1

Summary: Geralt is back in town, and the two of you simply cannot wait to get back to your house.

Words: 1785  Pairing: Geralt x femme!Reader  Warnings: smut  A/N: This takes place following Debt, parts 1 and 2 of which can be found on my masterlist. Much like in that one I use my pen name in place of Y/N when the reader’s name is used, which is only like once. DM me if you want to be added to my Witcher taglist, which is currently only two lovely people  Taglist: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @witchergeraltofrivia

***

Months had passed since that fateful afternoon when Geralt of Rivia saved you from a monster in the woods, and you thought of the night you two had shared more often than you’d like to admit. You saw him everywhere; his eyes in the yellow poppies you planted in your garden, his silver hair in the reflection of light off water, the hitch of his breath in a gust of wind. You kept yourself busy, working late nights at Dedrik’s tavern and chastising yourself for thinking so often of a man who likely didn’t even remember your name. 

“Orion.” 

You paused at the deep voice, but didn’t turn around. It sounded like his, but was probably just one of the regulars and you didn’t have time to be wishful. “I’ll be right with you, sir,” you responded, continuing to polish the last of a stack of mugs.

“Take your time,” he responded, and you obliged. It didn’t take long though before you turned around and were face to face with that razor-sharp jawline. You had heard stories of witchers’ heightened senses, rumours that they could hear heartbeats - if that was true, then Geralt definitely heard yours skip. 

You cleared your throat and shifted your weight, “Back in town?” you asked, attempting to appear poised and unbothered by his long absence from your life. “Ale so good it brought you back for more?” “Something like that,” Geralt responded. He looked you up and down, but it wasn’t thirst on his face; it was hunger. Slowly, he produced two coins and set them in front of you. “Drink with me.”

With a tight lip you took the coins and set them beneath the bar before filling two mugs of ale. You gave one to Geralt and kept the other for yourself, nodding towards a secluded booth in the corner of the tavern. The two of you walked over to it, sitting across from each other in silence for a moment before you could muster up the courage to talk. “If not the ale,” you asked, circling a finger around the rim of your drink, “then might I assume you’ve come for more repayment?” 

He leaned back in his seat, taking another sip. “I was passing through town,” he said, “thought I might find you here.”

“Well, here I am,” you responded, uncertain of how to feel. The fact that he had remembered you and thought to come find you sent butterflies through your stomach, but you were sure his intentions weren’t nearly as romantic. “There are some rooms for rent upstairs if you’re leaving soon,” you continued on, “Dedrik charges by the hour.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow and you wondered if maybe you had actually misread his intentions. “I was hoping to spend the night in that cottage of yours,” he said, “unless I’m not the only visitor you’ll be having tonight?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words. Other men had vied for your attention, sure, but your sheets hadn’t felt the warmth of another since that morning months ago when you awoke and found that Geralt had left in the night. “Only you, witcher.” 

It wasn’t long before the two of you had drained your mugs and you had to go back to tending the bar. You expected Geralt to leave, but were happy to see him sitting at that booth for the remainder of the night, sipping on a few more drinks. His back was to the wall so that he might see the entirety of the room, but whenever you shot a glance in his direction he was staring only at you. Soon the two of you were the only ones left in the tavern and you hurried to finish the last of the dishes, eager to get home. As you hunched over the washbasin you soon felt a pair of hands on your waist, rubbing soft circles against your hips. “I’ll be done soon,” you said, “and then we can head home.”

“What if I don’t want to wait,” Geralt purred in response, nuzzling into your neck, “what if I want to fuck you right here and now?” There was alcohol on his breath. His hands continued to paw at you, growing more ravenous as he began to stray from your waist and hips down to your thighs and the supple curve of your ass. Your pulse began to quicken and you nearly dropped a dish. In your adulthood you had grown to become an independent woman and if you were nothing else, you were strong against the advances of men. But here you were, putty in the witcher’s hands.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore and spun around, grabbing the White Wolf by his cheeks and pressing your mouth to his as if he was a meal and you hadn’t eaten for days. He kissed you in return, hard and passionate. His tongue slipped past your lips and you felt his teeth graze your flesh, sending shivers through your body and causing a moan to vibrate between you. It wasn’t clear whether it was yours or his. You could have stayed there for hours, lips locked in embrace, but Geralt had other plans. 

You felt his hands on your backside again, curving against the roundness of your cheeks and squeezing gently. He was being so soft, but all you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel the sting of his palms striking your ass. Soon he had hiked up your skirts and wrapped his forearms around your thighs, spreading them apart. You yelped into his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck for stability as he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips in the perfect position to feel his package bulging against your smallclothes. 

Geralt carried you out from behind the bar and you expected him to bring you upstairs to one of the beds you had mentioned earlier, but he instead chose a table square in the middle of the room. “I wanted to do this hours ago,” he grunted, setting you down on the edge of the table and beginning to unlace his trousers, “but I’d hate to make you feel like some common whore.” 

“What if that’s how I like it?” the words came out of your mouth without a thought, but you were done with thinking. Thinking had gotten you nowhere in life but a dead-end job in a town you’d never left. It was time to take what you wanted.

A sensual growl rose up from some primal source deep within him as a devilish smirk spread across Geralt’s face. “Ask and you shall receive, girl,” he said, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, “kneel.” Immediately you were on your knees, doe eyes peering up at him as he pulled his bulging cock from his trousers. You took him in your hand and wrapped your lips around the base of his shaft, licking slowly up and down his length, peppering his cock with kisses and swirling your tongue around the tip of his head. Another sinful noise escaped his lips as he placed his hands on the sides of your face. “Suck.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside your mouth. His massive size made you gag, but only for a moment. Soon your head was bobbing up and down, your hand stroking the inch of him that your mouth couldn’t reach. Hick cock throbbed inside your mouth and he bucked his hips, fucking your face. Dulcet moans poured from his lips and you could tell he was close. “Gods,” his voice was breathy as he suddenly pulled himself from the grasp of your lips, “I want to be inside you.”

Grabbing you under the arms he pulled you up to standing and turned you around to face away from him once more. You felt one of his hands trace up your spine before tangling into your hair as the other gripped you at the hip. Soon you were bent over the table and he was pulling your skirts down, leaving your holes exposed to the open air. 

His hand tightened its grip on your hair and you felt his thick cock rub against your folds, slick with your own excitement. In one fluid motion he plunged himself within you, this position allowing him to reach parts of you that hadn’t felt pleasure in a long time. Unlike the first time you had felt him inside you there was no subtle buildup in rhythm; he came at you with a vigorous rut and you were his cockhungry whore. Your hands gripped the sides of the table and your knees buckled beneath you as you let out cries of pleasure. His balls slapped against you with every thrust, creating lewd sounds that only made you slicker. “Geralt,” you said, gasping for air, “Geralt... I’m gonna..”

Geralt pulled back on your hair, causing you to arch your back and slam into him. He reached his other hand around your leg to grab you, rubbing quick circles against your clit. “Come for me,” he whispered in your ear, his assault on your pussy never wavering. The onslaught of stimulation coupled with his breathy words sent you over the edge, and you practically melted into a puddle on the table as the pleasure overtook you. It was the type of orgasm that radiated out from your soul, you could feel it in every inch of you. Your head was reeling and you screamed his name as your cunt pulsed with a heartbeat of its own. Were it not for Geralt’s grip on you, you would be on the floor. 

This seemed to have a similar effect on him, and you soon felt yourself full of his warmth. When he finally pulled out from inside of you you squeezed your legs together, clenching yourself so as not to cause any spillage. Geralt saw this and chuckled softly, giving you a playful pat on the rear. “Wouldn’t want a mess on our hands, now would we?” he said, placing a kiss on the back of your neck before helping you with your skirts. You wondered how you were to walk home; not only were you full of his cum, but your legs felt as if they were made of gelatin. As if he had read your mind, Geralt wrapped his arms around your hips and hoisted you up to lay draped atop his shoulder. “It seems I’m always carrying you somewhere,” he said with a smirk you could not see. You smiled a grin that he could not see either, happy to be back in the arms of your witcher.

[orionsart]

Sometimes I sit down with my computer and think “ah yes, I am an artist who is going to work on serious art for serious projects” and then I IMMEDIATELY get high and start shitting out a self-indulgent witcher fic because That is the Hill I Am On right Now.

[orionsart]

Would anyone be interested in being added to a taglist as I write more Witcher content? DM me if so! (Currently working on a continuation of Debt)

Also feel free to send in requests!!!

[orionsart]

Debt pt 2

Summary: Geralt sees a different side of you, and you see the part of him you’d heard so much about.

Words: 2277 Pairing: Geralt x femme!reader Warnings: unwanted advances by background male character. Smut. A/N: Oh my gosh y’all. This is my first time posting something I’ve written online and even the handful of comments I’ve gotten have me over the moon. Also I kind of messed with the tenses a little bit throughout this one? I think it still reads well. Tell me what you think!!! Maybe I’ll make a part 3

part 1

***

Geralt spent most of the day outside with his mare as you went about your daily chores, still slow and shaky from the previous day’s events. As you sat in your garden and mended his shirt you couldn’t help but steal glances at his muscular form, beads of sweat glistening off his bare chest. How badly you wanted to run your fingers all over him, exploring the curvature of his body and discovering if any other parts of him were glistening. Toes curling in your boots, you returned inside before the thoughts could overtake you.

Hours later he entered your cottage, his hand wrapped around the neck of a dead bird, its throat slit and drained of blood. He lifted the beast and set it on your kitchen table. “Dinner,” he said gruffly, beginning to clean his kill. You nodded and joined him at the table to cut the vegetables you had foraged the day before. The two of you prepared and ate dinner in silence, and afterwards you offered him your bed to sleep in for the night, which he accepted with little argument. As you laid down on the floor near the fireplace you wondered how long it had been since he’d slept in a bed, and whether or not he slept in it alone.

When you awoke the next morning you noticed his boots were missing from near your front door. Your suspicions were confirmed when you peeked into your bedroom and found it empty, bedclothes pulled up and tucked neatly. Like so many women before you, the witcher had left you without farewell. You wondered if your debt to him was repaid, but a single night’s lodging in exchange for a life hardly seemed an equal trade. Sighing, you turned to pull fresh clothes from your wardrobe and began to dress for a day’s work.

***

“Look who decided to show up!” Dedrik called at you when you entered the near-empty tavern. “Didn’t feel like gracing us with your presence yesterday?” the pub owner asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

Your face flushed crimson as you brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. A silk scarf wrapped around the crown of your head covered your wound, now scabbed over and bruised. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t sell ale,” Dedrik cut you off and threw a rag at you, which hit you in the chest before falling into your arms, “luckily that ass of yours does.” You gritted your teeth and balled the rag between your fists, uttering silent curses at your boss when he turned his back on you.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You wiped down tables, slung mugs of ale, and laughed flirtatiously at the advances of bar patrons in hopes they’d fill your pocket with coin. Some of them did. As the night grew dark and the pub filled with its usual rowdy bunch you noticed a shimmer of silver hair cutting through the crowd. Your heart raced in your chest as you saw Geralt walking towards the bar. His ochre eyes met yours and widened ever so slightly in surprise before looking you up and down, the corner of his mouth creeping upward. He took a seat across from you at the bar. “What can I get for you, witcher?” you ask, bending forward to lean on the wood. 

He pulled a coin from his pocket and set it between you. “A pint.” You obliged, pulling a mug from the cabinet and filling it with ale before handing it to him. His hand brushed against yours as he took it, making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. He took a long sip and stared at you for a moment before speaking. “So is this where you’re usually found?” he asked, “When you’re not traipsing naked through monster-infested forests?” 

You pursed your lips and shifted your weight. “Most days, yes,” you responded. “I’m sure you understand the necessity of a steady income.”

“Have to pay for that shack somehow, hm?” 

“That shack,” you replied, with a bite in your tone, “was my parents’.”

“Mmhm,” he took another sip, “and where are they now?”

You stared into his eyes, deliberately, “Six feet beneath the earth.”

He drained the rest of his pint and produced another coin. You took the mug and refilled it, and when you slid it back to him he rested his callous hand on yours, running the pad of his thumb across your knuckles before taking the drink. You stand, motionless, wishing that time would stand still. It doesn’t. 

The moment is broken at the sound of Dedrik’s laugh as he slides up next to you. “Well, what have we here?” he asks, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand at the back side of your hip, “Has the White Wolf taken a liking to our barmaid?” Geralt responds by taking a silent sip. “I’m sorry to say she’s not on the menu,” Dedrik continues, “unless, of course, I get a cut of the coin!” He laughs and drags his hand up the side of your body until it meets your breast, which he quickly squeezes before you can squirm out of his grip. Your eyes, downcast in embarrassment, catch Geralt’s hand tightening on the handle of his mug. 

After Dedrik left you took a rag and began cleaning the bar. “Do you need lodging tonight?” you asked quietly, not meeting the witcher’s eyes.

He nodded solemnly, “Yes.”

Geralt sat at the bar for an hour or so before leaving. You stayed, working until the small hours of the morning when the last drunkard was kicked out and you could finally close. You expected to head home and find Geralt waiting there, or perhaps already in bed, but when you left the bar you found him across the street, holding his horse’s reins and staring at you. “Were you waiting for me?” you asked, crossing to meet him, “You know where I live.” 

He stared at you for a moment, then began to walk down the street in the direction of your cottage at the edge of town. “I don’t like that man,” he said.

“Yeah, well, neither do I,” you responded, “but the bastard gave me a job when I needed one. You get used to it after a while.”

“Get used to what? Being fondled like a piece of meat? Get used to his hands?”

I could get used to you, you thought to yourself, could get used to your hands. But you said nothing. And was that a twinge of jealousy in his voice, or simply your wishful imagination?

The two of you walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “You deserve better, Orion.” 

“And where am I supposed to find better?” you asked, “I see no knight in shining armor come to sweep me off my feet. All I see is a witcher, to whom I owe my life.”

More silence followed and the two of you arrived at your home. You entered and headed for your bedroom as Geralt tied up his mare. You quickly undressed and slid your nightgown over your head, and he entered just as it fell to cover your modesty. He crossed to the bed as you nervously tucked your hair behind each ear, having narrowly avoided giving him a second show. “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, Geralt?” you asked. You took his silence as an answer and began to walk towards the door.

“Orion.” You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Come here.” Warmth rushed through your body as you walked toward him. He slid his palm across the bed and you sat next to him, your heart racing. He placed his hand over yours and rubbed gently up the length of your arm. “I’m no knight. And my armor is tarnished,” his hand came to rest at your shoulder, thumb caressing your collarbone, “and I did not come here with intentions to sweep you off your feet. But you do owe me your life. And it took every ounce of my strength not to strangle that man when he touched you today how I’ve wanted to touch you since I saw you standing in that pool.” Your breath hitched and you leaned into his touch, hungry for more. He pulled you close, breathing in your scent and nuzzling your cheek with his stubble as he whispered in your ear. “There’s a way for you to repay your debt,” he said, “but you must tell me you want it.” 

“I want it,” you responded, breathlessly.

“What do you want?” he asked, his lips like feathers brushing against your skin.

“I want you to take me.”

That was all he needed to hear. His mouth was at your neck, teeth grazing and nibbling your flesh, as he rapidly pulled your nightgown up, breaking away only to lift it above your head and throw it to the floor. He gazed at your body in the low lamplight, admiring every roll and curve. “I’ve missed this view,” he said, before placing a hand at the back of your head and leaning you down onto the mattress as he pressed his lips to yours. You removed his shirt in turn, eager to see his body as well. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, and you could feel his bulging cock beneath his trousers rubbing against your already wet cunt. His hands traced the swells and valleys of your body, lingering at your breasts and tugging at your nipples. A moan rose up from deep within you but you placed your hand against your mouth to stifle it. 

A grin spread across Geralt’s face when you did this, and he grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the mattress above your head, the soft pressure restraining you without causing pain. “No need to be quiet, girl,” he said, his other hand tracing farther down your abdomen, “I want to hear those noises.”

“Fuck.” The word escaped your lips as his finger entered your cunt. 

“Dripping already, are we?” His finger curled within you, feeling the soft ridges of your walls. He inserted another finger and you let out a moan, not bothering to fight it this time. The pad of his thumb circled your clit as he fucked you with his hand, and you bucked your hips. His pace quickened and he released your wrist to grab your breast instead, replacing his thumb with his mouth. You grabbed a tangle of his white hair and tightened your thighs’ grip on his face as the crescendo of pleasure rolled out from within. Your moans reached a peak, and he began to slow his pace before coming up from air and pulling out his fingers, dripping with your cum. 

Basking in the afterglow of orgasm you turned your face away from him, still subconsciously bashful in his presence. No sooner did you do this than he grabbed your chin and sharply turned your head, forcing you to lock eyes with him as he unbuttoned his trousers. Without breaking your gaze you took his hand from your chin and guided it towards your lips, brushing your tongue against his fingertips before taking them in your mouth. You could taste yourself on his fingers.

“Fuck, girl,” he said, fully removing his trousers. 

“That’s the idea,” you responded, wrapping your hand around his thick cock and stroking the length of him. 

His amber eyes rolled back in pleasure and he mounted you, lifting your hips for better access. He slid himself against your folds, tapping at your clitoris with the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want,” he said. There was a carnal energy in his voice.

“I want you to fuck me.” You could barely get the words out before letting out a squeal of delight as he thrust himself inside you. You had taken men before, but they all paled in comparison to his size. You moaned with every thrust as he went deeper within you, head poking against your cervix. He would pull out slowly, almost exiting you completely, before ramming his hips into yours. You would be surprised (and a little disappointed, honestly) if you were not smattered with bruises the next morning. “Geralt,” his name came out a breathy sigh as you felt yourself nearing orgasm again.

His grip on your hips tightened, and you welcomed the pain. “Say that again.” 

“Geralt...” He rammed himself into you, picking up the pace. “Geralt.” Faster still, harder. “Geralt! Oh god, Geralt!” You practically screamed his name in pleasure as the waves of climax came rushing over you. You felt your cunt contract in release against his cock as he continued to pound you, slicker than ever now that you’d coated him with your cum. His orgasm came soon after, filling you with his hot seed. 

The two of you collapsed next to each other on the bed, both panting and slick with sweat as the smell of sex hung in the air. The aftershocks continued to rock you as you nuzzled up against him, breathing him in. He wrapped a muscular arm around you, tracing your body with his hand once more before letting it rest at the small of your back. As the two of you began to drift into sleep you wanted to ask him if that was sufficient repayment, but part of you wished you could spend the rest of your life in debt to Geralt of Rivia.

[orionsart]

Writing Masterlist

Fics

The Witcher

Debt: 1 2 Take Your Time: 1 Cold Nights Expectations

Poems

Moon Lips Autumn Prayer