09 May 2020
Jaskier's 35th birthday was supposed to be a night full of song and food, a grand banquet to remember. Nothing went as planned.
The door creaked, and Geralt roused from a light slumber at the sound. The lingering scent of the snuffed candle by the bed suggested the passage of several hours. Not more than three, which was strange. Jaskier should have been awhile yet, if he was going to return to the tavern at all. And yet… an uneven step, and the door clicked shut.
The unfamiliar tread brought Geralt’s drowsy senses to focus, and he picked up more.
The copper of blood.
Musk of seed.
Pallor of salt.
- Part 1 of Ùine (Time)
03 Jun 2020
Geralt has a surprise for Jaskier's 41st birthday--a stay at Novigrad's most exclusive hotel. And Jaskier thanks him the best way he knows how, sweetness, sex, and a litany of Geralt's most beloved attributes.
Words, images gathered in his mind. Geralt. Fighting and fierce. His face by camplight. The hard lines of guilt he so often carried. The soft wanting when he set it down.
Jaskier licked and moaned at the sensation tingling on his tongue.
“You are a flashing blade,” he said. Pressed his lips. “The winter wilds.” Found the other nipple and licked hard. Set it between his teeth and pulsed his jaw, eliciting another gasp.
Then letting go.
He looked up. Met Geralt’s eyes. “Beautiful.”
- Part 2 of Ùine (Time)
Madainn (Morning) by darkmagess for CBlue
27 Jun 2020
For Jaskier's 43rd birthday, Geralt invites him to spend the summer in Kaer Morhen.
Morning mountain light kissed across bare skin and brushed aside the languor licks of dreams. They lay together atop rumpled linens, Geralt’s head resting on Jaskier’s stomach, weighting the bard’s lower body down with the bulk of his torso. Jaskier’s fingers moved in slow, massaging circles on the witcher’s scalp. Smoothed over the tendrils of his hair.
Geralt breathed like ocean tides.
“Are you awake?” Jaskier asked quietly.
A pleasant breeze moved through the room, the oppressive heat of a lowland summer but a memory.
Barely a change in those deep, steady breaths. Not a muscle moved.
- Part 3 of Ùine (Time)