sweet dreams are made of kinks

Dee ● bisexual ● she/her this blog features adult content. no minors allowed.

[dreamscapefics]

Prompts - 27 ⛔️ | Asks - Open ☀️

Send me a prompt if you wanna! Make sure to also check out my Kinks & Ships list for your reference. :)

Currently not taking prompts but my Ask is still open if you wanna chat, say hi, or share ideas! :D

[dreamscapefics]

hello, dreamers

it's been two and a half years since i last visited this site. is anyone even still into this?

ah well. merry christmas, happy new year, i guess.

[didanagy]

THE WITCHER (2019-)

created by lauren schmidt hissrich

4.08 Baptism of Fire

[izzy-hands]

“Oh, I think the fun uncle is usually the role that I’ve been finding myself slipping into a little bit. Yeah. Jaskier has got a lot more to do in this season in terms of the political machinations of the Continent. In terms of this found family and fighting for them and finding his own purpose within that. But on a personal note, it’s been really rewarding because I’ve had scenes with the big men [Henry Cavill] and I’ve had scenes with Anya, and this is the first time where we’ve got to hang out. And, thankfully, Freya’s lovely and incredibly talented.” {X}

Joey Batey and Freya Allan THE WITCHER SEASON 3 | Promotional & BTS

[piceuscelus]

All Ciri wants for Christmas is for Geralt. Maybe she finds slutty holiday lingerie and slips into his bed Christmas morning.

i decided to turn this into a valentine's day prompt since i never finished the christmas version of it, and also combined it with another christmas prompt i didn't get to:

geralt / ciri / jaskier, underage (ciri’s about 16-17), ft. a brief glimpse of dara, who doesn’t even get any, he’s just a sucker. 

happy valentine’s day! 💗💗 💗 😘

“Please?”

Ciri gives her best kicked puppy impression, all wide doe eyes and pout, bottom lip sticking out and trembling just slightly.

Dara squints at her. “Don’t. Don’t give me that face.”

“Come on!” She lets her voice go higher and a little whiny, still pouting and giving her best friend big, sad eyes. “You don’t even have to pay for it, I have the money – I just need you to take the money and go into the store to buy it for me. That’s it. Please?”

He continues to squint, but she can see his resolve starting to crumble in the way he shifts, eyes darting away from hers for a second before they’re back, his mouth starting to turn down into a frown.

“...godsdamnit, Cirilla,” he mutters, but he holds his hand out. “Alright, give me the money then, and tell me what I’m buying.”

She squeals, jumping up to hug him tight around the neck before she’s digging her wallet out of her purse and doing just that, ignoring the way he’s muttering something about stupid puppy eyes get me every fucking time.

– – – – – –

She gets up early on Valentine’s Day, early enough that when she sneaks into the kitchen for a light breakfast she can still hear Geralt snoring from his and Jaskier’s bedroom, despite the fact that he’s a chronic early riser.

Then again, she also knows exactly what he and Jaskier got up to last night, because she’d been pressed to their shared wall with a hand inside her panties just hoping to hear something. And she definitely heard something. Much more than that, even.

She shivers and finishes her breakfast before hurrying back to her own room and bathroom to get ready.

The lingerie Dara helped her acquire is still folded neatly in its boxes, hidden under laundry in her closet. She digs them out and puts them on the bed, trembling slightly from – excitement? Nervousness? She’s not entirely sure.

But she can hear Jaskier starting to stir in the next room, so she doesn’t stop to consider it for very long.

Getting into the lingerie is easier than she expected it to be, at least; it seems that picking something less strappy than the other Valentine’s Day options has paid off. All the same, she stands in front of her mirror adjusting and perfecting for a not-inconsiderable amount of time anyway.

At least it looks good on her. The white gives her some contrast, makes her look less deathly pale, and the pink and red of the embroidered roses is a nice pop of color. It’s really a very pretty set, the top definitely meant to mimic the look of a corset if nothing else, and the minimal straps making it all look a bit more risque instead of virginal like white lingerie often implies.

Of course, she is technically a virgin, but that’s beside the point.

She stares at herself in the mirror for a moment longer, listening to the vague sounds of Jaskier and Geralt grumbling their way into wakefulness, and considers the mannequin she’d seen the set on originally. It’s a split second decision, but a good one, when she looks in the mirror again – the deep red ribbon that had held the box closed, matching the darkest of the red embroidery, tied in a neat, pretty little bow at her throat.

After another moment of consideration, she also adds some lipstick, which makes her face look less out-of-place above the ribbon collar. Finally, when she looks in her mirror again, she feels like it’s complete.

And just in time, too, because she hears Geralt say something and Jaskier grumble back, just before there’s the creaking of pipes that signals their shower turning on. She shoves all of the detritus from unpacking the lingerie back into her closet, heedless of the neatness, and darts back out of her room and down the hall before she can talk herself out of it.

She stops at their door, listening carefully, but all she can hear is the sound of running water and murmuring, likely Geralt and Jaskier talking to one another, or maybe it’s just the water hitting the shower tile. She can’t be certain of that, but she can be certain that the two of them are well distracted in their usual morning routine.

It’s easy enough to slip into the room. The door itself is silent on its hinges, well-oiled because Geralt can’t stand the sound of squeaky hinges on anything, and so all she has to worry about it closing it softly enough that they can’t hear it click shut in the bathroom. She’s probably overly cautious about it, making sure she’s turned the knob so there’s no click, and closing it as slowly as she can manage without just freezing in place entirely, but she tries not to focus too much on it.

Door closed, she tiptoes over to their bed, still mussed from the night, and climbs on. The sheets are still a little warm, even, and they smell of Geralt and Jaskier and – sex, the musk she’d pinned at probably an alarmingly young age.

None of this is shocking, obviously, but it makes her belly swoop and her cunt pulse all the same.

“Fuck,” she breathes. It takes a moment of wrestling with herself to not just faceplant directly into Geralt’s pillow and put a hand down her pretty new panties, but she manages herself eventually, and instead arranges the pillows so she can lay comfortably on them and face the bathroom door.

Of course, once she’s settled, the real nerves slam into her.

She sucks in a sharp, reedy little breath, barely avoiding making a sound as she slaps a hand over her mouth to cover that, and for a split second she considers bolting.

They’d never know, she’s sure – they’re an observant pair, but not the sheets are different than we left them after tumbling out of bed observant, and all she’d have to do is go back to her room and strip off the lingerie, hide it in the closet, and pretend to wake up in about twenty minutes. They’d be none the wiser as long as she acted natural, and it would be fine.

But then she takes a deep, deep breath, and is confronted with the smell of them again, entwined as it always is, mixed with the smell of sweat and skin and sex, and she has to turn her head to muffle a whimper into the pillow at her shoulder, pressing her thighs together as if that would relieve the pulse in her clit.

“Fuck,” she breathes again, eyes flickering to the bathroom door as she hears the water stutter and then shut off. “Fuck.”

She stays right where she is.

– – – – –

It only takes ten, maybe fifteen minutes for one of them to emerge from the bathroom after the shower turns off, but it feels like a small eternity as she lays in their bed and breathes them in. In fact, by the time Jaskier’s fluffy hair pokes out of the door, followed by his heat-pinked, pretty face, she’s given up on behaving and has a hand between her legs, petting over the wet spot slowly spreading through the fine mesh of her panties.

Jaskier stops in the doorway and makes an odd sort of choked noise, more breath than anything. His blue eyes are as wide as saucers, fixed at first on Ciri’s face before they flicker down, over the rest of her.

He makes that same choked noise again.

Ciri whimpers, just slightly.

Clearly, even their resident wordsmith can become lost for words, because Jaskier opens and closes his mouth several times before he apparently surrenders, letting it hang open silently. His eyes keep darting from her face to her chest, and then lower, to where her hand is between her legs, but each time he jerks his gaze back up to her face almost guiltily.

Her heart is thumping in her throat, nerves making her entire body tremble, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she focuses on her breathing, and keeps looking at him, meeting his eyes when they aren’t wandering and hoping she looks – enticing. Or at the very least that she doesn’t look ridiculous.

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally says, more of a rasp. He turns slightly, as if to turn back into the bathroom, but his eyes stay glued to Ciri. “Come here.”

Her stomach drops and her heart skips a beat, making her gasp; Jaskier clearly notices, if the way his eyes flick back to her face again is any indication.

She hears Geralt grumbling, but then there’s the tell-tale sound of his steps, too light to slap but unmistakably naked skin on tile. Just before he comes into view, though, Jaskier continues.

“It seems we have an…intruder in our bed.”

“An intruder?” Geralt asks. “What are you talking about, did Yen – ”

His voice sputters out on what Ciri thinks was meant to be come, which does all kinds of things to the heat between her thighs and her heart rate, but still she doesn’t move.

There’s a tense pause.

“Cirilla.”

And she expects it to be a reprimand, to be anger or disappointment or even exasperation, but it’s…that’s not what his tone implies, not at all.

In fact, he says her name in the exact same way she’d heard him say Jaskier’s name last night after dinner, just before they’d made it from the hallway into the relative privacy of this very bedroom.

He sounds like he wants.

She does whimper this time, and then moans when jerking her hips up against her own palm spreads fire up her spine. Before she even realizes they’ve moved, both Jaskier and Geralt are climbing onto the bed with her, jostling the mattress in their haste.

“Ciri, fuck,” Jaskier rasps, and his hand lands on her waist, on the strip of skin between the panties and the bodice of the lingerie, and she jolts with a hicupping moan, turning toward him. He’s there, right there, their noses brushing when she arches toward him.

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs, and she doesn’t know what it’s meant to mean, but barely seconds after he says it Jaskier is kissing her and she stops caring.

Jaskier’s good with his mouth, just like she knew he would be, because the lot of them make entirely too many jokes about it to be anything except cheeky, but knowing and experiencing are two entirely different worlds. For a moment, she even forgets that Geralt is in the bed with them, too focused on the way Jaskier’s tongue twists around hers, how he keeps pressing closer to kiss her impossibly deeper.

Of course, then Geralt gets his hands on her too, one on her waist and the other at her throat, just under the pretty little bow she’d honestly forgotten she’d tied there, and she’s reminded very clearly that it’s not just her and Jaskier here.

“Ah, ah, fuck,” she pants softly when Jaskier finally breaks their kiss. For a split second, she irrationally expects to be reprimanded for the language, but instead Jaskier just laughs and ducks down to press his mouth along her jaw, then to her ear.

His tongue is just as clever here as it was in her mouth, of course, and she’s distracted again for the space of a breath before Geralt gets his hand around her jaw and tugs her around to face him.

His eyes are burning, and if she didn’t know better she’d think he was angry, his mouth pressed into a thin line and that particular furrow between his brows usually a familiar indication, but his pupils are blown and as soon as she’s opening her mouth to say – something, she doesn’t know, whatever tumbles out first – he’s kissing her, instead.

“Fuck,” Jaskier groans, right into her ear, but she’s entirely too preoccupied at the moment.

Jaskier is clever with his mouth, but Geralt is domineering, his grip on her jaw not quite painful but so close it’s making her head spin. His tongue is the same, and she quickly stops trying to kiss back like she had with Jaskier, just whimpering into Geralt’s mouth and letting him have his way with her, until she’s twitching from the lack of air.

“This what you wanted for Valentine’s Day, Princess?” Geralt rumbles when he finally lets her go with a nip to her swelling bottom lip. “Or is this just our gift, hm?”

“Yes,” she hisses, because the answer is both, that this was all she wanted for Valentine’s Day and that she’s offering herself as a gift. Jaskier groans into her ear again, and then Geralt is using the grip on her jaw to turn her head back to him while he ducks down, dragging wet, open-mouthed kisses along her throat, teeth tugging at the strap of her lingerie.

“Look so pretty, sweetheart,” Jaskier murmurs before he’s prying Geralt’s hand off her face just to kiss over the red marks left. “All sweet in our bed, fuck – how long have you been planning this?”

“W-weeks,” she gasps out, squeezing her eyes shut and whining when Geralt’s teeth scrape over the corner of her jaw. “Want – wanted it for years, oh shit, Geralt – ”

She jerks helplessly when the hand on her waist slides down, petting over the embroidery on the panties and then landing on her thigh, fingers just short of where she really wants them. She opens her mouth to beg, but before she can even find the breath Jaskier is kissing her again, tongue stealing her air and her mind.

“Such a pretty little present,” Geralt murmurs against her throat, teeth tugging at the ribbon still tied there. “Fuck, Ciri.”

“Please,” she gasps as soon as Jaskier allows her, throwing her head back and jerking into their hands, Jaskier’s now wandering over her belly and chest, petting over the embroidery, while Geralt is still flirting with the apex of her thighs, his other hand buried in her hair now. “Please, I – ”

“Shh, shh sweetheart,” Jaskier soothes, kissing over the arch of her throat. “We’ve got you. Isn’t that right, Geralt?”

“Mm,” is the only response Geralt gives, but it’s followed up by him licking over Ciri’s nipple through her lingerie. She almost shouts with the sudden spike of pleasure, even with the sensation muffled through the mesh and lace.

Jaskier chuckles, but copies the movement on her other breast, until the two of them are working in tandem to set her to writhing.

“Please, please, oh, shit, please, fuck, please – ”

She doesn’t know how it happens, doesn’t even care, but suddenly Geralt is between her legs, his hands pressing her thighs open to make room for his bulk. Jaskier helps, getting a hand on one calf to pull her open wider, the other busy with tugging at her bodice until one of her breasts is bared and he can get his mouth on her properly.

From there all it takes is Geralt sliding one large, hot palm from her inner thigh to press almost chastely over her cunt, and she’s coming, squeaking her embarrassment before the pleasure sears away anything that isn’t it and the rush of her blood for a long, earth-shattering moment.

When she finally comes back to her body, Jaskier has moved so he’s lying against her side, grinding his cock into her hip, and Geralt is leaned close over her, mouth tracing fiery paths along her collar, down to her chest to tug the other cup of the bodice down to nibble at her.

“Fuck,” she pants.

The both of them laugh, but neither say anything in response, clearly too busy with kissing and biting at her. One of Jaskier’s hands wriggles underneath her back to deftly unclasp the top so that Geralt can pull it off of her and toss it aside, and the casual show of wordless cooperation has her gasping again, hips jerking up where she can almost feel Geralt’s body, hovering just far enough away to be a frustrating tease.

“Pretty,” Jaskier whispers, and this time when he grinds his cock against her hip it’s copiously wet at the tip, and the realization that it’s because of her, because of seeing more of her body sends her shuddering.

“Fuck, fuck, please,” she whimpers, fumbling to lean up and forward until she can grasp at Geralt and pull him closer, down, til they’re pressed together from hips to chest. “Fuck, yes, Geralt – Jaskier….”

“Tell us what you want, Princess,” Geralt murmurs, fingers plucking at the elastic of her panties as she squirms against him. “Want to hear you say it.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, tell us,” Jaskier encourages, his fingers also finding their way to her panties, but with much more intent. Instead of just tugging teasingly at the elastic, he hooks his fingers around the crotch of them and pulls it to the side, baring her to the air – and more specifically, Geralt’s cock, blood-hot and twitching between them.

She keens. “Fuck, fuck me, please fuck me, oh my gods, please – ”

Geralt is smirking when he catches her mouth to kiss the rest of the pleas out of her, and she doesn’t even care, arching up into his body, nails scoring lines into his back and Jaskier’s, too, as she tries to somehow pull them closer.

Jaskier chuckles, but it’s a broken, breathy thing, and Geralt just echoes it with a growl as he bites at Ciri’s lip.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

[dreamscapefics]

all the eskel whining makes me really dislike the character.

I'm sorry to hear that, anon. Feel free to blacklist the negative stuff you're seeing/reading about the character; it's not worth your mental and emotional well-being. Take care of yourself first, ok?

[dreamscapefics]

My biggest problem with the Eskel Choice™ is not that he got turned into the Leshen or even that he got killed off.

I still would be disappointed and potential wasted opportunity bcs they already changed things so who knows if any other witcher might serve as a side character in a future episode in the seasons down the line, but I am mad how they did it.

Like Lauren tweeting out that Eskel is the heart of Kaer Morhen and than he is just some fucking asshole.

Like they could have kept his character and still do the Leshen thing or a heroic sacrifice in the end battle.

But that would have needed more scenes over time, make the viewer like Eskel and see how important he is to Geralt and everyone else, or if no "time" for that a flashback (before he is killed) to Witcher Adepts Geralt and Eskel being kids/teens together, to show them before they got ragged by the Path and how long they were important to each other. That way the viewer might not be emotional invested in Eskel, but in how important he is to Geralt and his Death is meaningful because of that.

As it is the viewers don't see the tragedy that Geralt has to kills him, because the show hasn't shown any reason. We only see a few antagonistic interactions between Eskel and Everyone and then he is killed. Like buh huh, are the viewers suppose to feel bad about that Character Death?

Like one of the shows biggest flaws is presented here, we are told that it is a big deal but we aren't shown. And the flashback in the next episode is like that's why that why it was a tragedy what Geralt had to do, but it doesn't do anything for the emotional impact of the Eskel Death Scene, because that's already over.

Just all in all, I am frustrated with Eskel in the Show, because it goes against what the Creators promised, it makes book and game fans disappointed, and it wasn't even worth it because of the bad storytelling! Like I don't get how they thought this would be a good idea.

All in all I still really liked and enjoyed the season! I just think Eskel encapsulates lots of the flaws of the show, so it's a bit "glaring".

Hope you have a great day

[dreamscapefics]

i get that people can absolutely adore very minor characters and get attached to them, trust me, i do - i do that a lot, actually!

but people should be reasonable about it. i think the fandom needs to realize that eskel only appears in like 15% of one book from 8 book series and doesn't do much in that time. He gets one ep in an 8 ep season, which is 12,5% of the season so that roughly checks out, and i'm willing to argue he's actually more important to the plot in the show than he is in the books.

usually people claiming that netflix did eskel dirty point to the books and want the adaptation be more faithful to them, but forget that most of their attachment to eskel probably comes from the games (and, let's be honest, fanon).

Oh I agree, anon, and like I said earlier, to each their own.

I can't speak for everyone, obviously, but from my side, what really disappointed me was how they handled Eskel's characterization as a whole. While I get that he played a very minor part in the books, and was a bit more involved in the games (I haven't finished playing TW3, forgive me), I just can't grasp why they decided to write him like that. He wasn't the Eskel I fell in love with, and while I understand that not all adaptations are going to strictly follow the original source material, I felt that it was disrespectful what they did to the character, is all.

Story-wise, if they had gone with the original character instead of Eskel, it wouldn't have the desired impact. But because they scrapped that and made it Eskel instead, his death served its purpose by advancing the plot. It carried weight, so to speak. This part, I also agree with you.

Anyway, we all have different interpretations and different opinions on this subject matter. I don't want to start a fight -- it's the least I want to do, tbh -- and I do appreciate you reaching out to me in a decent manner. :)

I still enjoyed watching TWN, and I do believe Basil did a fantastic job playing the role to the best of his abilities, with the material he was given.

[dreamscapefics]

I'm doing quite good actually. After way to many set backs (not my fault!) I'm finally preparing to write my bachelor thesis. So I'm quite busy with that. Still angry with how TWN treated Eskel. And now I'm watching Vox Machina. How are you doing? -🐭

That's wonderful to know, darling! Wishing you all the best on your thesis - I'm sure you'll do really well. 😊 Also yes, I agree, TWN did Eskel so fucking dirty, I can't even. Then again, S2 had a lot of good bits and bad bits, so to each their own.

I'm doing really well, thank you! Thinking of slowly integrating myself back in the community but work's been keeping so busy so I'm not sure how I'll manage, but we'll see. Thanks for the message and hope you have a good weekend. ❤️

[dreamscapefics]

it’s been a long damn time. happy new year, all.

how’s everybody doing?

[shipping-isnt-morality]

Good morning! I’m salty.

I think we, as a general community, need to start taking this little moment more seriously.

This, right here? This is asking for consent. It’s a legal necessity, yes, but it is also you, the reader, actively consenting to see adult content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it.

You find the content you find behind this warning disgusting, horrifying, upsetting, triggering? You consented. You said you could handle it, and you were able to back out at any time. You take responsibility for yourself when you click through this, and so long as the creator used warnings and tags correctly, you bear full responsibility for its impact on you.

“Children are going to lie about their age” is probably true, but that’s the problem of them and the people who are responsible for them, not the people that they lie to.

If you’re not prepared to see adult content, created by and for adults, don’t fucking click through this. And if you do, for all that’s holy, don’t blame anyone else for it.

[zandracourt]

This needs to be reblogged today.

[justsparethoughts-deactivated20]

Consenting to see adult content doesn’t mean you should have to see a bunch of shit romanticizing incest and pedophilia you walnut

[thebaconsandwichofregret]

Except this is the last line of consent before the actual work. So if you’re at this button you have already done the following:

1) chosen to go onto AO3 in the first place

2) chosen the fandom you wish to read about

3) had the chance to filter for the things you do want to see like a specific pairing or a specific AU

4) had the chance to specifically filter out any tags you don’t want to see like, oh I don’t know, incest and non-con and dub-con and paedophilia

5) had the chance to set the rating level if you wish to remove any explicit content at all

6) have read the summary of the story, which aren’t always great but are the only indicator of what the story will be like writing wise so something about it was good enough for you to click on it.

7) have read the tags of the story which will tell you what is actually in the story. If you have used filters to remove stories with things you don’t want then there shouldn’t be anything in here that’s a shock to you but maybe there is. That’s why the tags are there for you to check for yourself.

8) Then you have to actually click on the story. You cannot see anything other than the summary or the tags without personally deciding that you are going to open and read this story.

9) Only here, at step number nine, do you get to the adult content warning pictured above. You have been through eight different steps, the last six of which have also been opportunities for you to see that this has adult content. And AO3 has *STILL* stopped you to ask one last time “are you sure you want to read this because it has things that only adults should see in it”.

If after this point you are reading incest and paedophilia then it’s probably because you specifically went looking for it.

You walnut.

[vi-maxwell-blog]

This is the most beautiful thing that I have seen about ao3

[rmh8402]

Always important!!!!!!

[secretstudentdragonblog]

Cannot stress ‘you walnut’ enough

[alljuicedup]

PROTECT YOURSELF!

DO NOT EXPECT STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET TO DO THAT FOR YOU!

The internet is an amazing thing, but it has always and always will be dangerous!  Not sure when we went from “don’t talk to strangers” to “strangers protect my children”, but that’s just not the case. 

[dravenxivuk]

[elainezireael-blog]

[dreamscapefics]

Hi!! Can i request Geralt rimming Jaskier after a good fucking? Bonus points if Jaskier sucks Geralt too,thank you very much!!: D

I know this is super late, anon, but I hope you enjoy this. :D

thanks a lot for sending this prompt! I had so much fun writing it and damn, this is absolute filth and I love it hahaha.

~*~

There’s nothing Geralt loves more than pleasuring his lover. It’s a given that he enjoys fucking Jaskier, enjoys the tight clench of the bard’s hole every time he slides into him and gives him a proper pounding. Geralt’s no stranger to being on the receiving end, either. He enjoys it particularly when Jaskier goes a little wild on him, his much leaner frame manhandling Geralt’s bulkier form.

But there is one thing Geralt loves more when it comes to carnal pleasures, and it’s going down on Jaskier.

And no, not sucking cock. Though, he does love that, too.

No.

Geralt takes great pleasure in eating out Jaskier’s ass. He loves the earthy taste of his bard, tongue probing and fucking in and out of the most private place nobody will ever have access to except Geralt himself. He prides himself in his ability to reduce Jaskier to a drooling, babbling mess using only his fingers, mouth, and tongue. He dick throbs in the confines of his breeches when Jaskier thrusts his hips when Geralt’s face is buried in his ass, sucking and rimming his puckered hole until Jaskier is sobbing and begging for him to fuck him.

But Geralt ignores him most of the time, preferring to have his lover come while his tongue is in him, probing that little bundle of nerves. It always leaves Geralt dizzy with arousal when he feels Jaskier clench on the muscular organ, and most of the time, after Jaskier has come at least twice, that’s the only time when Geralt finally takes his cock out to give him what he wants.

Then it only takes him at least a dozen thrusts before Geralt is coming, thick, hot spurts of come painting Jaskier’s walls. He doesn’t even wait for his cock to soften, Geralt just pulls out and nearly bends him in half before he buries his face once more in Jaskier’s ass to eat him out, groaning at the combined taste of his come, the odorless oil, and the unique taste of Jaskier.

~

“Gods, darling, just like that.”

“You like that?”

“Fuck! Yes, don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop!”

Geralt ignores Jaskier’s whine of protest as he quickly pulls out of the bard, only to flip him on his stomach and pull Jaskier’s hips up before sliding his thick, dripping cock back inside his lover with a punched-out groan.

They’ve been at it for hours now. Jaskier has come twice already while Geralt has only come once, and he can already feel his second orgasm approaching. But he wants to wait until he makes Jaskier come one more time because Geralt’s generous like that.

The coarse sheets of the inn they’re staying at is a lost cost at this point, drenched in their sweat and combined bodily fluids. But Geralt doesn’t mind, and so does Jaskier, who’s too preoccupied with moaning wantonly and begging for the White Wolf to fuck him harder. Geralt is pounding roughly into Jaskier, whose arms are stretched out and clutching the headboard to avoid hitting his head. His hips are pistoning in and out of the bard, the loud squelch of their coupling obscene and spurring the witcher to thrust in a little deeper, a little harder.

A mix of come, oil, and saliva is dripping down Jaskier’s thick, hairy thighs, and when Geralt spreads his cheeks apart, he’s unable to hide his groan of pleasure at the sight of his cock -- long, thick, and veiny, the blunt head a purple-red hue as it appears and disappears past Jaskier’s loose hole. His lover is gaping by this point, and Geralt revels in the fact that even after being impaled on a wooden dildo for hours, then followed by Geralt’s own huge cock earlier that evening, Jaskier is somehow still tight.

“How can you still be so fucking tight?” Geralt remarks almost to himself, voice raspy and chest heaving.

Jaskier keens when Geralt manages to hit that particular spot, so he circles his hips and maintains that angle as he repeatedly pounds Jaskier’s prostate, the bard wailing in pleasure as he comes untouched.

“Fuck,” Jaskier sobs, his body wracking with aftershocks as his arms give out and he slumps to the bed, almost spread-eagled.

“You okay?” Geralt asks, slowing his pace. He picks it up when Jaskier makes a noise of protest.

“Mmph,” Jaskier mumbles incoherently. He turns his head to the side, face slack with pleasure and exhaustion, and then adds, “Come on, witcher. I want you to cum in me again.”

That seems to do the trick.

With a growl, Geralt adjusts his hold on Jaskier’s asscheeks, nails biting into the meaty flesh as he chases after his second orgasm. He alternates pulling Jaskier’s cheeks and slapping them until they’re an attractive shade of red, and all the while he maintains an unrelenting, brutal pace.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Jaskier chants, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“So fucking good, Jask,” Geralt growls, and he leans forward to bite and suck bruises on Jaskier’s shoulders and neck. “So tight, my little songbird.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier whines, breathy and wanton, and it’s the witcher’s undoing.

Fingers tightening on his hold of the bard’s hips, Geralt thrusts in once, twice, and with a howl, he’s coming in thick spurts inside Jaskier. It takes a minute before Geralt feels his cock start to soften. Quickly, but gently, he slips his half-hard cock from Jaskier’s red, swollen hole, and Geralt moves down the bed until Jaskier’s ass is in front of his face.

He further spreads his cheeks, his lover moaning in protest but doesn’t wriggle away or stop Geralt from burying his face in his sore, leaking ass. Geralt starts with kitten licks on the swollen rim, fascinated at the sight of the winking, gaping hole twitching every now and then.

Gorgeous, Geralt thinks reverently before he gently thumbs Jaskier open. He licks his own come that’s slowly dripping from the abused hole, humming in pleasure at the combined taste of his ejaculate and Jaskier’s earthy taste. No matter how often Geralt does this, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how delicious they taste together.

Geralt groans, and he leaves a few kisses on the outer rim before slurping more of his spend that’s leaking from Jaskier.

“Fuck, Geralt,” Jaskier hisses at the overstimulation, but he moves his hips languidly to have more of the witcher’s dexterous tongue inside him. “Fuck, you’re so good at that, sweetheart. Eating me so well.”

Geralt hums, his chest rumbling with pleasure as he swirls his tongue inside Jaskier’s walls, not caring that saliva is dripping down his chin. He pulls out with a deep breath in, only to kiss a trail down Jaskier’s taint and his balls before licking his way up to his crack and slurping more cum from the bard’s gaping hole.

“So good, Jask,” Geralt rasps out as he continues to eat out his lover. “So fucking delicious.”

It’s no surprise when Jaskier comes for a fourth time that night.

[piceuscelus]

hiiiii I've been binge-reading your fics and fuuuuuck holy shit your eskel/ciri fics are TOP NOTCH GOD TIER HHHNNNNNG thank u for blessing us with your talent <33

aaaaaaaaaaaa thank you so much!!!

i really did not know how much i needed to wreck ciri but like........hhhhh it’s so fun

[dreamscapefics]

Wreck Ciri 2k21 let’s gooooooo ✊🏼

[piceuscelus]

more ciri / eskel, written so a friend would have motivation to do her job 💜

Keep reading

[goldandlights]

A bunch of retirees cosying it up at Corvo Bianco

(Whole pic behind the link)