@witcherwheeloftheyear
Rating: Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Relationship: Yennefer of Vengerberg / male Lover (of your choice)
Prompts: Hawthorn, fire and smoke, Temperature Play, Make a wish
Additional tags: Fire play, blindfold, Smut, Romance, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Oral Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom Yennefer of Vengerberg, NSFW
Words: 3,469
Summary: Yennefer has a beautiful May Night with her lover.
Who the lover is? I had one specific Witcher character in mind when I wrote the fic, but you might fancy a different pairing. So, feel free to decide yourself, whoever works best for you, Yennefer/Geralt, Yennefer/Jaskier, Yennefer/Istredd, Yennefer/Cahir, Yennefer/You, ...
She sighs, as happy as a clam at high tide. What a beautiful evening! Unusually mild for May Eve in the north despite the cloudless, velvety sky speckled with stars and adorned with the waxing quarter moon. Two big bonfires are burning in the centre of the meadow, their red orange flames licking against the nightly firmament. Happily dancing tongues inviting to dance yourself. But no, not yet. She is far too full from the delicious feast and desires nothing in the world but to sit here at the edge of the pasture under the blooming hawthorn bushes, swathed in their sweet spring scent that reminds of vanilla and almond with just a splash of spice to it - and wrapped up tight in the strong arms of her lover. If she were a cat, she would be purring so loudly, the sound would carry from the hill all across the valley and echo through the entire northern continent. No, further, as far as Nilfgaard.
Has she ever been so deeply contented, Yennefer wonders for a moment. A very brief and fleeting moment, though, as, from behind, she can now feel a warm breath tickling her left ear. Then, gods, the tip of a tongue. A very skilled tongue that knows exactly where and how to touch her to suddenly make her want more than just sit and sigh. The tingling sensation aroused by the teasing touch spreads right from her ear to her gut, awaking a swarm of butterflies in her tummy, making her feel warm in all the right places and, at the same time, giving her goosebumps all over. Kindling the flames of desire. The tongue traces down the curve of her neck where her lover places a gentle kiss, hardly more than a breath, then it wanders up again. Now she can feel his teeth nibbling tantalisingly gently on her earlobe.
"Want to go to a more private place for a while?" he asks, his voice husky as he whispers the words into her ear. He does not wait for an answer but lifts her up as he stands, and she lets him do so more than willingly.
"Mmm," Yennefer agrees, and it almost does sound like a purr. She turns around in her lovers arms, facing him. Standing on tiptoe, she looks up and presses her lips to his. They kiss. Tenderly, teasingly at first. Then their lips part. Their saliva mingles as their tongues meet. They taste each other in a breathless, eager embrace. Finally, Yennefer breaks the kiss.
"And I know exactly where to go," she says enigmatically, taking his hand in hers. "Come."
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46825288
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Truth, justice, freedom, reasonably priced love, and a hardboiled egg. Did Ankh-Morpork get those things, in the end?
They got truth, there was a whole book about it. Vimes didn't want it when he got it, or at least he didn't want the political cartoon section of the newspaper, but Ankh-Morpork got the free press whether anyone liked it or not.
They got justice, thanks first to Carrot and then to Vimes, forcing the City Watch to reform into an organization that helped the citizenry and would arrest the patrician or a whole invading army if it had to. Vimes had to wage a constant war with himself not to turn into just another gang leader, but he waged it.
They did not get freedom. Pratchett was very clear on that. Things got comparatively better, and immigrants flocked to the city despite it being a hellhole, because the dictator didn't care about persecuting any minority groups or whether or not people made fun of him, but it was still a dictatorship. When Pratchett was alive, fans speculated that he was subtly training Moist von Lipwig to become the new government leader- the Lipwig books always had an emphasis on Vetinari getting older- and Lipwig would have had nothing to fear from an election by popular vote, but that's all fanwank and speculation.
They got reasonably priced love right away. That may have even been one of Vetinari's first acts as patrician, since Mrs. Palm is leader of the Seamstress's Guild at least as far back as the early Watch books.
John Keel's grave got a hardboiled egg every year.
Four out of five ain't bad.
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May your 25th of May be glorious! Here's to Truth, Justice, Freedom, Reasonably Priced Love, and a Hard Boiled Egg.
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"’As I recall, they used to sing it after battles,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen old men cry when they sing it,’ he added.
‘Why? It sounds cheerful.’
They were remembering who they were not singing it with, thought Vimes. You'll learn. I know you will.”
- Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
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