Midge has no problem with walking through the New York streets, even at night. She stays out of particularly sketchy areas, and she knows what to look out for in safer areas. She's never been accosted before, and it's not something that she thinks about.
It's dusk when she walks up the stairs of the subway onto the street. The sidewalks are still busy with people walking home from work or couples going out to restaurants. Midge has a gig at a club tonight, and even though she doesn't go on until 9:00, it's good to get there early, have a drink, and read the room a bit.
Her thoughts wander as she walks, and she doesn't even hear the sound of running footsteps behind her. All of a sudden, she's pushed and nearly falls to the ground as the purse is snatched off of her shoulder. Midge nearly stumbles in her heels and puts her hands out in order to maintain her balance.
"Hey!" she calls to the man's quickly retreating back. "HEY! Stop! That guy's got my purse!"
Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Midge takes off after him. She can run in heels, though not very well. Hopefully, she's made enough noise that one of the men at the end of the block can stop the thief for her.
Peter was out patrolling before he was going to stop by and bring Midge a small snack before her show. She probably didn’t need anything to eat at that point but Peter kind of liked taking his meals with her and usually tried to bring her something as well. Occasionally there was enough crime that he was late or missed seeing her but she was especially understanding of those times. Maybe being a photographer who had to be available to take photos whenever the news struck earned him some leeway.
He heard someone cry out about a purse snatcher and wondered if this would be one of those nights where he wouldn’t make it in time.
Swinging from up high he saw the guy running at top speed with a woman chasing after him. Peter instantly knew that it was Midge, she was completely unmistakable. For a moment he was worried this might be too risky for his identity before he decided if she figured it out then she figured it out.
“Hey, I don’t think that goes with your shoes, pal,” Peter called out as he swooped down next to the guy. The snatcher had a second to be surprised before Peter webbed his feet to the ground. With a shout the guy toppled over, tossing the bag up so he could use his hands to catch himself before he ate pavement. Peter neatly caught the bag then webbed one of the guys hands to the ground then headed over toward where he saw Midge running.
“See, now I know this is yours because it matches your shoes,” he said, trying to deepen his voice a bit. Thankfully the mask muffled his voice somewhat.
Seeing the man swoop down out of nowhere startles Midge and she comes to a stop in front of them. She watches as the man in the red jumpsuit easily takes care of the criminal that had snatched her purse.
“Thank you…” she says in amazement as he hands the purse back to her. “You’re… Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man has been in all the papers, a masked crusader who is able to shoot web out of his hands and do incredible feats of acrobatics. Midge never imagined that she’d meet the guy, let alone be helped by him.
“That’s me. Or the Spider-Menace of you read that rag the Daily Bugle. And you are… hold on I’m sure I’ve seen you. In the pictures, right,” Peter said, snapping his fingers as he pretended to try and remember what actress Midge was. She was stunning enough to be a movie star so he didn’t think it was out of the realm of possibility for someone to think that.
“Or was it a model in a magazine? Wait, you were in Mademoiselle, right? That has to be it. Blue eyes as bright as yours you were on the front page for sure.”
Was he flirting with his girlfriend as someone else? Absolutely. Was he having a great time of it? Definitely.
Midge rolls her eyes at him, but there’s a smile on her face. “Okay, buddy…” It’s flattering, but come on. “Is that why they call you Spider-Menace?” Because he’s incorrigible?
She looks down at the would be robber, stuck to the ground and now terrified. “What do we do with him?” she asks. “Wait for the cops?”
Peter knew that Midge liked sincere flattery well enough that she wouldn’t hate the obvious compliments. That smile on her face was definitely a fond one.
“Oh, no, they call me that because, you know, the mask and everything,” he said, gesturing to his face. Honestly he wasn’t even sure if Jonah actually hated him or that it just sold papers. Actually, no, Jonah definitely hated Spider-Man.
“But it depends on if you want to press charges. He’s not going anywhere for a few hours but if you’re in a hurry and can’t wait around for the police he’ll probably just be let go. I can’t exactly stick around to give a statement.”
“You some kind of hideous freak under the mask?” She asks, a smile playing at her lips.
The robber is pretty terrified now and Midge is enjoying having the upper hand. “I can wait a few minutes,” she says. “You and the police not get along?”
“My mandibles are considered very handsome amongst my people I’ll have you know,” Peter quipped, stroking his face where the so-called mandibles might exist. For all anyone knew though he could have mandibles.
“They’re not a fan of people taking Justice into their own hands. Which I get, but… they can’t be everywhere, you know? At least the police don’t shoot at me much anymore.”
“That’s pretty rude of them, considering that you’re doing their job. Maybe they’re jealous that you do it better than them, and that you look better too.”
If he’s going to flirt with her, then she can flirt back. “Mandibles and all.”
“Thank you, it’s nice to be acknowledged that my uniform looks better than theirs. Especially considering I sewed it myself,” he said, striking a bit of a pose. Peter wasn’t sure if he should be flattered or jealous that his girlfriend was flirting with Spider-Man. He was going to choose flattered.
The man on the ground tried to say something but with how his head was pressed to the concrete it was hard to tell what it was. It sounded a little derogatory toward Peter though.
“Sir, can’t you see I’m trying to get to know my new crush over here? Of you don’t want to hear this you shouldn’t have tried to steal.”
“Wow,” she gives him a once over. “All that and he sews too.” Flirting’s pretty harmless. Midge doesn’t expect to ever see Spider-Man again.
She laughs lightly and shakes her head when Peter refers to her as his new crush. All the fear and adrenaline that she felt earlier when chasing the robber is melting away. “You should probably start with my name. I’m Midge.”
"And just think how easy it is for me to dust the high spots when I can climb on walls and the ceiling," he said, winking and firing finger guns at her. So she couldn't see the wink but he figured that it was implied with the finger guns.
"Midge, it's a pleasure to meet you even under these circumstances. Speaking of, how are you feeling? Not a fun time having your purse snatched, I imagine."
“Bad humor to deflect from trauma wins again,” Peter said, then paused for a moment before he added. “But, uh, only in the short term in the long term it’s probably better to talk about your feelings or something.”
Of course, Midge used good humor to work through her feelings which was probably akin to talking through your feelings with someone. Peter definitely used humor to deflect.
“But yeah. And I’d love to stick around but, you know, other citizens in potential peril and all that. You’ll be alright though?”
“Talk about my feelings?” She asks. “Who am I? Sigmund Freud?” He’s right that comedians work through their feelings with their comedy. Midge is more connected to her feelings than a lot of other comics, but she also uses humor to deflect things.
“He won’t get free?” she asks of the robber on the ground.
“Technically I think he listens to feelings? But yeah I guess that’s the only way the quip works,” Peter said, scratching his head in thought. Were there any people famous for spilling their feelings? Oh well, not important.
“Oh, no. The police will actually be pretty upset that he’ll be so hard to get free. But… stay safe and if you see me around give me a whistle, okay? Seeing the prettiest woman in New York would do a lot to brighten my day,” he added before he gave a salute then leapt into the air and swung away. A while 6 blocks so that he could land and change out of his costume and into his regular clothes so he could go see Midge at the club in a bit.
Later than night, Midge and Peter are out for drinks after the show. They’re cuddled into the same side of a booth, which Midge normally thinks is gross, but it’s obviously really cute when they do it. She tells him about the purse snatcher and can see how worried it makes him.
“Oh! But then you’ll never guess who showed up. Spider-Man. You’ve heard of him, right?”
Peter liked the warmth of feeling Midge up next against him, especially when sometimes she would rest her head on his shoulder. He listened with appropriate concerned when she talked about the purse snatcher.
“Wait, really? Of course I do, I take pictures of him all the time. He practically pays my rent,” Peter said, doing his best to look surprised but not too surprised at what she’d said. “Was he a menace like the Bugle says?”
“Not at all, but the Bugle is a rag.” She pauses and looks at Peter. “Sorry. But it’s true. Anyway, he stopped the guy. He stuck the guy to the sidewalk with his web, which was kind of weird.” It looked sticky. Midge doesn’t think she’d want to touch it.
“Wait, he hit on you? Like sleazy… I’d like to catch you in my web, or something?” Peter asked, trying to sound “pretend” jealous.
There was no doubt in his mind that Midge got hit on. Probably a lot. But he was entirely secure in the fact that she had chosen him. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a bit out of Spider-Man hitting on her.
Midge waves a hand dismissively. “No, nothing like that. He called me his new crush.”
Harmless. She looks up at Peter. “Don’t look so glum. I can’t even see his face. I have no idea who he is.” Besides, maybe the guy was just trying to make her feel comfortable after the purse snatcher gave her a fright.
“Right! He probably has a spider face. Do you know how many eyes spiders have? Plus I heard his costume shows his spare tire. And I feel like you could accept one or the other acceptable but not both,” he said, grinning and kissing her forehead. If and when he ever told Midge his secret he was probably going to catch a little bit of teasing for this and rightfully so.
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Midge sips her drink. “He doesn’t have a spare tire though. Obviously he’s fit, to swing from building to building like that.”
He could have a hideous face though. Maybe that’s really why he wears the mask.
“So my physique was a complete surprise but you notice Spider-Man is fit, huh?” He teased before leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“If I wasn’t so completely secure in the fact that you chose to be with me I might be jealous. Plus I can’t blame the guy for having good taste. Especially with his potentially six to twelve eyes he can see how gorgeous you are really clearly.”
"I know," he said, smiling and turning his head to kiss her cheek. "I might tease you about it but I know you're with me and I'm not the least bit jealous or insecure about anyone flirting with you."
Now if someone was creepy or gross about it, then he would have a problem, but that was different.
"The only thing I feel is being lucky that I get to be with you."
She looks into his eyes. “I’m very much yours, Peter Parker.” Midge presses her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “You make me feel wonderful. I doubt I’ll see him again, anyway.”
He acts like he still can’t believe that she’s his girlfriend, but it’s really sweet. Peter’s earnestness is one of the things she likes most about him.
"Okay, I promise not to refer to him as a menace anymore. He does a lot of good for the city and I can tell sometimes he even strikes a little pose when he sees me taking pictures," Peter admitted. Which was true, he did stroke a pose for some of his remote camera set ups.
“He probably is,” Midge confirms before resting her head on his shoulder. It’s been a long day and she likes the quiet intimacy of this bar. It won’t be long before she’ll be ready for Peter to take her home.
Midge’s luck hasn’t been the best of late. Granted, she started dating Peter, and that was very lucky. She hasn’t been as happy as she is with him in a long time. Other things, though, are not going as smoothly.
She was at the bank depositing a paycheck when two armed men in ski masks stormed in. There were about half a dozen customers in the bank and five employees. The customers are all told to get face down on the ground, so of course Midge complies. While one of the men holds a gun to the tellers and asks them to pack all their cash in a bag, the other moves among the customers, seeing what he can take from them.
“Your purse, lady,” he says when he gets to Midge.
“Again?” she can’t help but whine. “I just got mugged two weeks ago!”
The man holds the gun up to her. “Turn over. Now!”
Midge does what he says, moving slowly. The robber gives her body a once over that makes her shiver in revulsion. “Gimme your purse and maybe that will be the only thing I take from you,” he growls.
Disgusted, she tosses her purse a few feet away from her. “Here you go, asshole.” Midge’s heart pounds in fear. She probably just sealed her fate with this guy, but she doesn’t plan to go with him quietly.
Peter had learned a while ago how to tap into the bank silent alarm lines that ran to the police station. He didn't go after all of them, that was just crazy, but when he was at home and he heard one go off near his apartment he donned his costume and was out the window in a flash. The robbers hadn't even gotten all that far into their robbery by the time he got there.
First thing is he took out the guy standing lookout for the police outside and then let himself in through the roof access and crawled along the ceiling. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Midge laying there on the ground, some thug making disgusting comments about her. Really, they needed to have a talk about not antagonizing bank robbers.
"Really? I feel like asshole is too kind," Peter called out as he dropped from the ceiling, firing webs from each wrist that stuck to the robbers' guns before yanking the weapons out of their hands. "They serve a valuable function in the body. Unlike these two guys."
"You're the asshole and I'm going to murder you!" one of the guys yelled, pulling out a knife and charging at Peter. The guy swung the knife a couple of times and Peter dodged easily. The thing about knives is you had to be careful because it was so easy for the person using it to hurt themselves with it.
"Hey crush, I just have to check... you didn't organize this bank robbery as a way to meet you again?" he asked, turning to look at Midge as the guy continued to swing at him and he dodged effortlessly.
Midge’s heart leaps when she sees Spider Man crawling across the ceiling. How is he doing that?? Even though there are two guys with guns, she feels much safer now that Spider Man is here.
Midge can’t believe that he’s actually flirting with her while one of the robbers comes at him with a knife. She stays still as a statue, wanting to help if the opportunity presents itself, but also not make the situation worse.
“Caught me,” she says, her voice wavering with fear. “You and I really need to stop meeting this way, Spider Man.”
“We could meet other places? Rooftop rendezvous with some candles and a bottle of wine?” he suggested.
Asshole #2 pulled out a knife of his own and Peter figured he had better wrap this up before the guys started taking hostages. He grabbed the wrist of the guy fighting him and squeezed, the thug letting out a yelp of pain. With one hand Peter lifted the guy up by his jacket, shook him around a bit and then threw him to the ground, webbing the guy there. Picking up the knife, he handed it to Midge.
“Here, don’t say I never gave you anything. Just keep looking gorgeous, I’ll be right back,” he told her before hopping over to deal with the other thug.
“I’m afraid you’re too late,” she tells him. “I’m a taken woman.”
Midge watches as he makes quick work of the robber, and she’s got to say, even to herself, that Spider Man is pretty impressive. He doesn’t seem real. She’s happily taken, but this guy? Is pretty attractive.
The knife being suddenly handed to her catches her by surprise. Midge sits up and grips the handle of the knife tightly. If the other robber got past Spider Man and came towards her, he’d get a knife to the calf.
Peter webbed the final bank robber to the ground and then made sure that the guns were all webbed together as well. He didn’t want anyone accidentally grabbing them or them going off on accident. As much as he would like to just flirt with Midge he didn’t want to risk anyone’s safety.
“Alright everyone, I think you can stand up now if you feel like it. If the floor seems like a more comfortable place right now that’s okay too. The police should be here soon,” he said, heading over to Midge and holding his hand out for the knife. From the way she was holding it she might be more of a danger to herself.
“So… how serious is it? Like… odds are decent that it might not last and you’ll be available?”
"Yes! Dibs is exactly it. I have a job and my own place and am hygienic. Which I think makes me at least like a 7 out of 10 in New York, right?" Peter joked. Well, it was mostly a joke but from what Midge had told him dating standards in New York for men could be... low.
"But you have to tell me where I can meet you if you're not going to keep getting caught up in crimes."
“An 8,” she agrees with a nod. Flirting with him is helping her take her mind off what just happened, but Midge is feeling more shook up about this robbery than she did about her purse being snatched. The men had guns and one of them threatened to sexually assault her. She’s visibly trembling.
"Hey, hey. Everything is okay. It was really, really scary there for a moment but you're okay," he reassured her, reaching a hand out to rub her arm in what he hoped was a comforting manner. It was hard not to just hug her close but he had to remember that he was mostly a stranger to her like this.
"Stand up comedian. I know you hear this a lot but I've got a joke you can use in your act. Wanna hear it?"
Midge lets out a shaky breath, then takes a handkerchief from her purse to dab at her eyes. She hates crying in front of people. Guess it’s good that she can’t see Peter’s face.
“Let’s hear it,” she says, sure that it’s going to be a horrible joke. She loves bad jokes.
"So, Spider-Man is a pretty accurate name but I think if I had to do it all over again I'd go for something less gross and creepy, you know? Something like Spider-Puppy," he said, grinning under his mask. He was pretty proud of that joke and had a feeling that it would hit just right with Midge.
Midge tries not to laugh but fails. It’s actually more clever than she thought it would be. “I think the two you’ve got stuck to the floor are the poster children for gross and creepy men.”
She smiles at him. There’s something very attractive about him that Midge can’t quite put her finger on. She might be more open to his advances if she didn’t have Peter.
“I was going to invite you to one of my shows, but how will I know if you’re really there?”
Well, he got a laugh, which he considered pretty high praise coming from Midge. He was definitely going to be holding her close tonight as Peter though because this was definitely traumatizing, no matter how well she was holding herself together.
"Oh, I'll make sure you know. Just tell me where and give me a couple of times and I'll see what I can do."
Midge tells him the dates, times and locations of some of her upcoming shows.
“You’re really not going to let me see your face?” she asks, trying to bat her eyelashes just a little. “How can I thank you if you won’t let me see you?”
“You are not nearly as taken as you say if you need access to my face to thank me properly,” Peter teased. He knew that Midge wasn’t saying that she would kiss him but he couldn’t help it. Plus it wasn’t like he didn’t get offers like that from time-to-time.
“But I need to head out before the police show up. Just some advice… if someone wants your money… just let them have it without insulting them, that just makes it worse. Mugging? Let them having it. Kidnapping? Fight like hell.”
She nods at his advice, assuming that it’s solid. He deals with this a lot more than she does, so he should know. Spider Man turns to go and Midge reaches out to grab his hand.
“Wait! I can thank you without having to see your face.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a light kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for saving me,” she says. “Again.”
“Oh, you’re welcome!” Peter said, genuinely surprised at the kiss. It was completely chaste and he wasn’t jealous as “Peter” at all. Honestly if that made her feel better after all she’d been through then so be it.
“Definitely going to be taking you up on dibs,” he told her before giving her a bit of a salute and then jumping up to the ceiling. Instead of crawling though he stood up, walking backward like it was the most natural thing to do.
“Alright citizens, keep safe. Tellers, maybe get everyone some suckers, the adrenaline is about to wear off and the sugar will help. Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, out!”
Midge watches in wonder as he defies gravity. There’s no doubt that Spider Man is impressive to her. She’s curious to know more about him, though she hates that the two of them keep meeting at scenes of crimes where she is a victim. Maybe someday they’ll get to meet in another context.
Peter had been planning this for a while now. It was risky, anytime he was in close proximity to Midge as Spider-Man it was risky that she might figure out who he was. If she did it wouldn’t be the end of the world, he planned on telling her soon, but this was still a bit of fun.
He had told her that he couldn’t make her show tonight because there was a presentation at the observatory he wanted to go to. Which was true, there was one and he wanted to go to it but he was also okay missing it.
Instead he had snuck into her dressing room dressed as Spider-Man and kicked up his feet while waiting for her. Sneaking in had not been easy but he didn’t want to risk someone recognizing him as Peter. But it was going to be worth it, having him sitting there and holding a bouquet of white carnations. Fortunately as Peter he’d sent or brought Midge flowers plenty of times so it wasn’t like Peter was one-upping himself as Spider-Man.
While she doesn’t expect Peter to be at every show of hers, Midge has gotten used to knowing that he’s there, either backstage or in the audience. It’s a little disappointing when he has to miss one, but she understands. Of course, she told him that this was the night she was going to try out a lot of brand new material about their relationship, just to make him squirm. She did tell a few jokes about dating a younger man and maybe how much stamina he has in bed, but nothing too mortifying. It’s not like she used his name.
Midge heads back to her dressing room after her show in order to change and pack up her things. When she sees the figure sitting at her vanity, she jumps and lets out a startled cry. When she realizes that it’s Spider Man, she smiles at him.
“By waterspout, obviously,” he said, standing up and handing her the flowers he’d been holding. He wished that he’d been able to hear her set a bit more and if she did include a lot of stuff about their relationship. She’d checked with him about anything she was going to make material out of so he wasn’t worried about that. She was just really, really funny and he liked hearing her new stuff.
“But you’re not itsy bitsy,” she replies, a smile playing at her lips as she takes the flowers from him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Peter didn’t send her any tonight, and while Midge doesn’t expect him to, she’s kind of grown accustomed to it. She’d missed seeing the bouquet on her vanity tonight.
Midge can’t believe that he actually came, in costume. Otherwise, she supposes she’d have no idea he was actually there.
“Only the best for you. And I know roses are usually considered the best but carnations actually last a lot longer so you’ll see them more often,” Peter pointed out. Entirely true and not something that he had told her as Peter Parker. He went with the more traditional roses or other flowers since he figured that was a little more what Midge liked.
“I didn’t get to really hear it tonight but I did another night. Not quite what I expected but it was really good.”
“A lot more jokes about you being at the scenes of crimes for one thing. But I guess that’s just something you do for me,” he kidded her. Honestly he was glad that she hadn’t been involved in anymore but Spider-Man wouldn’t get to see her otherwise.
“I half expected you to get caught up in a gambling ring right in stage or something. Also, did not see the language and sex jokes coming but it was all really good.”
“Mmhmm,” Midge says. “That’s our special thing, isn’t it? Do you want an appearance in one of my future sets?” She can absolutely write some jokes about him, but she figured that he wouldn’t want that kind of exposure, even if what she has to say is positive.
“Thank you,” she says without any embarrassment about the content of her jokes. This is who she is. “I don’t think any criminals would dare to come near me with you around.”
Whew, Midge saying anything was “their special thing” was kind of hot. Or maybe it was just that Peter thought that everything Midge did was really hot. Probably the latter. If Midge hadn’t been with someone and they really did meet like this who knows what would have happened between them just now.
“You’re free to make some jokes about me. Probably best not to make it seem like you know me. I’d hate for someone to think they could get to me through you,” he said, which was a genuine concern he had. “But say whatever you want, couldn’t be worse than anything the Bugle says.”
It was flirtatious, but Midge figures there’s no harm in that. He seems to be respectful of the fact that she has a boyfriend.
“Do you have enemies?” she asks. Midge imagines that most criminals aren’t fond of him. “My boyfriend works for The Bugle. He’s only a photographer, but maybe he can tell them to stop printing lies about you since you saved his girlfriend twice.”
She imagines that won’t really do much, but it’s worth a shot. Spider Man doesn’t deserve the negative press that he gets.
"Oh, that's your guy? The one that takes pictures of me so that the Bugle
has images to run for the horrible stories they write about me? 'Spider-Cad
Flirts With Taken Woman'," he said, gesturing with his hands. That had been
the headline after the whole bank thing. He actually found it
really amusing, especially when he got to tease Midge a little as Peter.
"But no, that's not a problem. I mean like actual criminals I'm responsible
for sending to prison."
Midge was pretty pissed about that headline, actually. They even named her. Susie said if they were going to do that, they at least should have mentioned that she was a comedian. All promotion is good promotion in her eyes.
“That caused so many issues,” she grumbles. Joel had seen it too, and he had no idea she was dating someone. Of course he had a million questions. Her parents had a million and one questions. Despite the fact that she wants to be a famous performer, she likes keeping her private life private.
With how serious she and Peter are getting, Midge knew that introducing him to everyone was coming soon, but she wanted it to be on her terms.
“Is that why you stay anonymous?” Midge didn’t even think of that.
“Yeah, sorry the editor-in-chief’s personal crusade against me affected you,” Peter said, genuinely regretting that. Honestly he didn’t care too much about what was printed about him, at least to an extent, but others should be left out of it.
“Oh yeah. It’s to keep my friends and family safe. And any potential romantic partners. Also the police would arrest me instantly if they knew who I was and where I lived.”
“It’s okay,” she says. Midge knows it wasn’t Spider Man’s fault. He can’t help what the press says about him anymore than she can help what is said about her.
“Is what you do technically illegal?” Midge asks. “Or are they just upset that you’re doing more to fight crime than they are?
“Do you have a romantic partner?” Midge has to ask, at least.
“Mmmm, gray area,” he said, wobbling his hand back and forth in a “kinda” motion. Honestly he wasn’t sure about the legality or not. A regular citizen could stop a crime if they wanted, couldn’t they? It didn’t really matter because he wouldn’t stop if it was illegal.
“Romantic partner? Well I do have dibs on a drop-dead gorgeous comedian and that’s all I need right now,” he said, which was true. Peter had dibs on Midge, right?
"They can arrest you for a gray area, but they have to charge you with something. If you haven't broken any laws, they'll have to release you." Don't ask how she knows that, Spider Man.
The corner of her mouth curls up in a smile. "You're content being second in line?" she asks. "I'd say you could probably take my boyfriend in a fight, but he's surprisingly strong."
Spider Man's body type is actually very similar to Peter's, now that she thinks about it.
“Yeah, after they’ve unmasked me and exposed who I am to the world so that my life is kinda ruined,” Peter said. He also didn’t trust that the police and the DA wouldn’t find something to charge him with. He was probably even guilty of a few things.
“Is he ‘lift a car’ surprisingly strong or ‘dodge a bullet’ fast? Wait if I fight him and win do I get to date you?”
“I guess you’re right,” Midge says, “but you’d think they’d want your help instead of seeing you as an enemy. You can really do all that?” Why wouldn’t the police or the FBI want to have someone who has those abilities working for them?
She laughs at the idea of Spider Man and Peter fighting over her, though the thought of two men fighting over her is delicious.
“You know, there’s something I find very attractive about you, but Peter’s such a swell guy. He’s very good to me.”
“All that and more. I am pretty amazing. Some would say spectacular even. Just like some people might say you’re marvelous. That’s me, I’m saying it,” Peter said with a nod. “The Spectacular Spider-Man and the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” had a good ring to it. Too bad that couldn’t go on the towel or something. But Peter did think she was marvelous and more.
“I’m sure he’s perfect acceptable,” he told her, sitting down in the chair before looking at her with chin hands. “Tell me more thought about how you think I’m very attractive?”
Midge laughs and shakes her head at his reaction. Somehow, he manages to make her flustered.
“He’s more than acceptable, I can promise you that.” If he thinks that’s an allusion to sex, he would be correct. “You’re obviously bold in a lot of ways. Very confident. I’m sure you know that confidence is sexy.”
Well, it was nice to hear that she said he was more than acceptable. He really did have the best girlfriend ever and to hear her brag on him him was a pretty big ego boost.
“Sexy confidence? I’ll take that. Plus women like a man in a suit, right? Speaking of confidence… how is yours? I wanted to offer to take you for a swing sometime.”
“Yeah, my webs. You know statistically public speaking is people’s greatest fear and since you do that, this should be no big deal,” he pointed out. Of course it might not be wise to let her cling close to him, Midge knew his body better than he did so hold him might feel very familiar.
“Just think about it. You can ask your slightly-more-than-adequate boyfriend, he’s photographed me carrying multiple people so it’s no problem.”
Speaking in front of a crowd is much less terrifying for her than heights, especially heights where she's not standing on something or strapped into something. It's not that she doesn't trust him. It's just that he's really high up sometimes.
“Of course. It’s the least I can do since you invited me to come watch you work,” he said. Midge MIGHT agree to swing with him once he let her know that it was him behind the mask but he didn’t think she would be too keen on it and he was very fine with that.
“Just tell your boyfriend and he can get word to me one of the times he snaps my picture.”
"Sure. He might be a little jealous of you if he knew you were in my dressing room right now." She smiles, thinking about Peter. "He's a confident guy, but he also can't believe that we're actually dating."
Why is she telling Spider Man this? Midge isn't sure, other than there's something about him that reminds her very much of Peter, and she's starting to put a few puzzle pieces together in her mind.
“Oh, I hope he gets more than a little jealous about it if you tell him,” Peter teased. Spider-Man was a bit of a rascal so he felt comfortable saying something like that to Midge. Plus despite all the flirting he didn’t think he was coming on too strong or pushy.
“Speaking of being in your room, I should probably go. Crime doesn’t wait for me shooting my shot at my crush.”
“You’re incorrigible,” she tells him. “Be nice to him out there, okay? He’s trying to make a living. I think you’d like him, actually. You both have the same taste in women.
“You have to run so soon?” Midge bats her eyelashes at him.
It’s so tempting to tease him, to flirt harder with him, but she really doesn’t want to hurt Peter’s feelings, especially if her hunch isn’t right. If her hunch IS right… she has a lot of questions for her boyfriend.
"Yes, yes I am. And you like it," Peter pointed out. "But I will, I promise. He never tries to take dishonest pictures of me to make me look bad. The Bugle just comes up with that words themselves."
At least that was the story he told people when they asked how he got such good photos of Spider-Man. Really it was all with remote cameras and things like that.
"Well, maybe crime can wait a little longer if you're going to look that cutely at me."
Midge is glad that he’s going to stay for a little while longer. That gives her more time to look for signs that Spider Man is actually Peter. The idea of it sets her heart racing for several reasons. Her boyfriend, a crime-fighting vigilante? He seems like a nerd, but that’s a good cover story. Plus, he seems very strong and she’s seen the muscles in his chest. Those aren’t the muscles of a nerdy scientist.
It also means that he has super human abilities. How he got those is unknown to her, though he did mention the industrial accident where Gwen died. Maybe something happened there to give him these abilities?
“Oh, am I cute?” Midge asks, looking at him very cutely. “I think I’m older than you. Do you like older women, Spider Man?”
She saunters up to him. Height-wise, he’s about the same as Peter is. This is the closest she’s been able to get to him, plus it’s easier to scrutinize him when she’s not terrified because she’s just been the victim of a crime.
“You are very cute and you know it,” Peter said, tapping her lightly on the nose. Midge was very, very good at using her feminine wiles when she wanted to or just crank up the sex appeal casually. Just the way that she’d walked up to him just now had been hot.
“But I doubt it. You’re what… 25 maybe?” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he began to pace around the room. And by around the room he meant he started literally walking up the walls and up to the ceiling. Midge was getting a little close for secret-identity-comfort. “Also, are the kids you talk about in your act real? You do not have the figure of a woman who has had two kids. But I like… available woman. Young or old.”
She knows exactly how cute she is, especially when a man finds her attractive. It’s interesting to her when Spider Man starts to literally walk up the wall, both because it’s fascinating to watch and because she wonders why he’s seemingly avoiding her now.
“I’m 27 and my kids are real.” Midge puts her hands on her hips and looks up at him. “Are you trying to avoid me up there?”
Whoops, totally busted that he was trying to avoid her by being on the ceiling. This was a pretty terrible idea to be in such close proximity to Midge for such an extended period of time.
“No it’s just that I can’t look really cute what with the whole mask thing so I’m trying to be impressive in other ways. Also talking to people in the ceiling usually throws people off a bit. Like when you act extra cute when someone knows you’re attractive,” he said, moving so that his face was close to hers. Not so close that their faces were touching, but still close.
Their faces are close, but he’s upside down. Having a conversation like this is a first for her.
It occurs to Midge that if Spider Man really is Peter, then things will be very different.
“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” That’s exactly what she’s doing. “I’m not trying to tease you. I think you’re very impressive. The mystery of who you are is killing me. Is it for my protection that I don’t know?”
“Ummm, no, that’s for my protection. No matter how cute you are I don’t reveal my identity on a third meeting,” Peter pointed out. Which was the truth, that would be insane and he might as well not have a secret identity at all at that point. Everyone thought they were trustworthy but when it was a secret that could ruin your life if it got out? Yeah he kept that more under wraps.
“You know you wouldn’t sell my identity to the Bugle, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t. But I’m not… risk my entire life and freedom and the safety of everyone I know and love sure. And I wouldn’t do it just to satisfy someone’s curiosity. It would have to be something they deserved or needed to know.”
Not that that was the real issue with Midge. He had no doubt that she wouldn’t sell his identity out. But revealing his secret identity was a “I’m sure I want to spend my life with you” sort of secret. But he couldn’t tell her that as Spider-Man.
She nods, because what he’s saying is serious. “I get what you mean.”What he does is dangerous. People might think he’s a freak. The government might try to detain him. His loved ones might be used against him.
Midge isn’t used to not getting her way, especially when she’s cute, but she can be an adult about this.
“Is there someone you love? A partner? I guess there isn’t, if you want to fight my boyfriend in order to date me.”
“I wouldn’t be flirting with you so much if I was with someone,” he said, which was kind of a lie. He would only be flirting with her like this if they were already dating, but whatever. And Peter did joke around with people as Spider-Man but he never got flirty, not really. Besides, he wasn’t very good at it.
“And it doesn’t have to be a fight. A race? See who can lift the most? High jump maybe?”
Midge thinks he’s pretty darn good at flirting. Peter is too. Their styles are similar. That’s another part of what’s arousing her suspicions.
“So the odds are stacked in your favor?” she asks. “That doesn’t seem fair. I think it should be two parts. The first part can be physical, but the second part needs to test how smart you are. Peter is brilliant.”
“Ooh, rain check on a chess match or a spelling test. Hey, what about a cooking competition? That seems more fair. Being strong or smart doesn’t really help there, does it?” Peter asked, already getting an idea from that suggestion. Midge probably wouldn’t hate getting baked goods as an attempt to win her affection, right?
She puts her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised. "Well, well, well. Looks like I found what Spider Man is scared of. I definitely think chess should be a round, especially if you soundly defeat him in the physical contest." Midge doesn't know if Peter plays chess or not, but she presumes that he does. He probably at least plays enough of it to beat Spider Man.
"We can add a neutral third cooking round though. Wow, did I find the two men in this city that cook?" It's a minor miracle.
“I’m not afraid just less sure about my chances of winning and there’s a really good prize on the line,” Peter pointed out. He wasn’t an amazing cook but he was decent enough. He did have a few really good meals that he could pull out of necessary.
“Okay so let’s say… pull ups, chess, and cooking? Winner gets you?”
Midge cocks her head to the side, looking at his upside down face and trying to determine how serious he is about this. Are they still joking around?
"Peter would have to agree to this too," she says. "I'm not sure if he will."
Risk losing her over pull ups and chess? Midge doubts he would take that chance. She's also not sure if she's really inclined to put her relationship and future happiness on the line for some contest for her affections.
Peter was not sure how serious Midge was taking this. He was mostly meaning to be silly and maybe she was too. But she sounded like she was treating it seriously? He would hope she was happy enough with him she didn’t feel the need to risk their relationship on a bet like this.
“If he did agree I’d be seriously less worried about the chess game because he’d be stupidly to risk being with someone like you over a competition. But hey, if he’s up for it I am too. I’ve got nothing to lose.”
Midge shakes her head. “Fortunately I’m not a prize to be won. I lo- really like Peter and you beating him in contests wouldn’t change that. I don’t know if we’ll ever break up, but you’re welcome to come find me then.”
She’s glad that it seems like he wasn’t serious about the contest anyway. She has a say in who she wants to be with anyway.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. Peter totally heard the first part of that word come out of her mouth in terms of how she felt about Peter. He was glad that he had a mask on because otherwise his shocked face followed by his ridiculously happy face would be on full display.
“Oh, we can still hang out though, right? Just because we can’t date right now? This is… fun. I don’t normally hang out with anyone like this.”
"Well that depends. If I'm sticking something to a surface it feels different than if it's a line I'm going to climb on? But here... toss something in the air you're okay with me webbing to the wall for the next... two hours or so," Peter offered. That way she could feel what that was like and then he could leave her with a web-line as well. It was a perfectly fair question though, it wasn't the sort of thing that anyone else was using.
Midge looks around the room and ultimately decides on a hairbrush. She tosses it into the air, watching with fascination as Spider Man sticks it to the wall.
She approaches it and gingerly touches the web. It sticks to her finger as she pulls it back, leaving a trail. “What is this stuff?” Midge asks, making a face.
“It’s webbing,” he said, which was technically correct, which was the best kind of correct when you were trying to hide a secret identity from you girlfriend but felt bad lying to her too much.
“But don’t worry, in about two hours it will turn to dust, if you really need that hairbrush before then… you can cut it, but it’s pretty tough stuff.”
“What’s it made of though?” Eventually, she’s able to extricate her finger from the webbing. Her fingers are still sticky as she rubs her thumb and forefinger together, trying to get the remnants off. She imagines that being covered in it must feel quite uncomfortable.
“Do you know what all your bodily fluids are made of?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched her play with the webbing. It wasn’t actually a bodily fluid but he wasn’t actually saying that it was. Besides, if he rattled off all the chemical compounds in it, that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to her anyway.
“This came out of your body?!” Now Midge is surreptitiously wiping her hand on her skirt because ummmm gross. She’s going to have to sanitize that hair brush once the webbing goes away.
“Yes I make it,” he said, trying not to laugh too much at her reaction. That was definitely worth it and later he would probably pay for it once he told her who he was and that it wasn’t something he made IN his body but WITH his body.
“You can ask your boyfriend if you want, I’ve carried multiple people on it, some of them a lot bigger than you. It can definitely carry the two of us,” Peter explained. Several times he had to carry multiple people to safety at a time so having Midge with him wouldn’t be a problem.
“I won’t even go high or fast or do any flips or anything. Cross my heart.”
So Peter hadn’t actually thought that she would have accepted his offer right then and there. Well, not much to be done about that. Hopefully she’d be too distracted by him carrying her through the air to realize how… familiar his body felt. If nothing else, the costume was kind of unusual.
“No. But I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes at the side of the building? I promise, just a quick swing around the block then I’ll have you back.”
Midge could barely believe that the words came out of her mouth, but, no backing down now.
“Okay,” she says, more confidently than she feels. “Yep. See you in a few minutes.”
5 minutes later, she’s down in the alleyway beside the club, waiting for Spider-Man. Why did she volunteer to do this in the dark? Midge keeps telling herself that it’s going to be fine.
Peter briefly considered calling the swinging off, maybe feigning some sort of emergency, but thought that might seem even more suspicious. Midge was very sharp and intuitive and would likely pick up on any fabricated excuse. It was probably best just to make the ride as… exciting as he could to distract her.
So after sneaking out of the building onto the roof he gave a dramatic leap from up top to land dramatically in front of Midge. But a ways away in an attempt to not startle her.
“Okay, so once around the block?” He asked, making a circling motion with one finger as he walked up to her. “And I promise not to go too fast.”
Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and leapt forward and up into the air before firing off a web-line to the roof of a nearby building. Yanking them up and forward to get some altitude he shot another web-line up, this one high enough that they could actually swing on it, the ground rushing closer and then away as they moved from the bottom of the arc up to the top before he shot another web.
“So what do you think? Amazing, right?” He called out as they swung.
Midge tried not to scream, but she couldn’t help it a few times, especially when they neared the ground. She clung to Spider-Man, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Peter was pretty used to the screaming. This wasn’t the first time he’d carried someone while swinging so he knew the drill. For Midge’s sake he also resisted the urge to do any fancy flips or spins, just (to him) slow, simple swinging. The trip around the block was also not nearly the entire block so it wasn’t long before he was setting her back down where they started.
“Okay, okay there we go. Back on the ground. Fun, right?”
“Well that was taking it really slow so it probably seemed really easy,” Peter told her, mildly bragging. It was only a mild brag though because he was being serious, he had been taking it slow. He also noticed that Midge was still hanging close to him.
“Thank you. I don’t know if I’d do it again, but I also didn’t feel like you were going to drop me. You held me really tightly.”
He’s still holding her and feels an impulse, one that she doesn’t fight for some reason. Leaning in, she presses her lips to approximately where his lips would be on the other side of his mask.
Midge pulls back quickly, putting her fingers to her mouth with a gasp. “I… I’m sorry.” She moves out of his embrace. “I-I should go.”
Okay. Okay. Midge just kissed him. Only she didn't kiss him she kissed Spider-Man. Which was... technically him but she didn't know that. Did she? Or did she. Because either Midge was the type of woman to kiss another man while she was dating Peter or she knew that he was Spider-Man.
He was just going to assume that she knew he was Spider-Man and was giving him space to tell her in her own time. Or something. He just wasn't going to think about it. Nope. Nope. Nope. No need to think about it because she apologized and... just not thinking about it.
"Yeah, yeah I've got to... fight my hair. Wash crime. Fight crime then wash my hair so... busy night. I'll, uh, catch you later?" he said, knowing full well that unless Midge was robbed again he was absolutely going to avoid seeing her again as Spider-Man. Without waiting for an answer he gave a wave and ran a few steps then leapt high into the air and started to web-swing away. Maybe he could find a high speed robbery to take his mind off things?
Midge feels horrible. As much as she thinks Peter is Spider-Man, she isn’t 100% sure. She loves Peter, but she might have just kissed another man. She hopes that she hasn’t made a huge mistake.
Midge watches him go with a worried expression on her face, then goes back into the club. If Spider-Man really is Peter, then she and him have a lot to discuss.
[ OOC: if you prefer brackets, just switch and I’ll follow. ]
Agreeing to go to dinner with Courfeyrac is, in some ways, a joy, and in other ways, a capitulation. He has an ability to wear a person down with his inexorable charm. Midge likes him, genuinely, but she’s not sure if she can trust him, not with information and certainly not with her heart. She’s not involved with whatever leftwing dealings he and his friends get up to, and she doesn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. He wore her down about dinner and she agreed. If nothing else, she’s sure she’ll enjoy their conversation and that the food will be delicious.
Midge is purposely wearing a red dress that makes her look like an absolute knock out. It’s a little bit of a tease and a little bit of a promise. Which one it ultimately ends up being will be up to him and how the night goes.
When he arrives, her parents have to meet him, because such a thing is unavoidable when your parents live with you and they’re nosy about your personal life. Rene and her mother fuss over each other in rapid fire French, during which both of them end up looking at Midge and nodding. Midge wonders if she’s just been sold and for how many francs. Her father is very much not a Francophile, and so Rene switches to perfect accented English to speak to him about some of their mutual acquaintances at Columbia and The Village Voice. Both of her parents seem impressed. Midge had told them earlier to not get too attached. It’s just dinner.
She’s able to hurry Rene out the door as they head off to start their evening. Midge lets him escort her, her hand on his arm.
“What were you and Mama saying about me?” she asks.
Rene Courfeyrac is extremely good at talking to people. Rich and poor, old and young, male and female, conservative and progressive, he knows how to gauge what another person needs, to flatter without lying, to make them feel special just by basking in the glow of his enthusiasm. It’s a deadly weapon for women, and an even more useful one in politics, but he hasn’t often needed to turn his charm on a woman’s parents.
Midge is special, though—not because their flirtation is serious, but because they’re turning into friends. And in Rene’s book, that’s far more important.
Once the door shuts behind them, he lets his polite smile turn briefly into a playful leer as he looks her up and down. “She was telling me what an excellent hostess you are and that your chiffon cake is divine. I’m not sure I believe her on the second one, though.”
They are friends, that’s true. Maybe Midge is just assuming that he wants something more from her due to his reputation, but she wouldn’t want someone to think less of her due to her reputation.
Then again, he’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, so maybe her assumptions aren’t that far off.
“If you think that’s going to get me to bake you a cake, then you’re wrong,” Midge says with a smile as the two of them exit her apartment building. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
Guess who went down a rabbit hole about French restaurants that existed in the late '50s
“Damn, and here I was hoping to appeal to your vanity.” Courfeyrac leads her down to the street, where he has a cab waiting, and opens the door. “La Côte Basque. I did promise you something French.” Even for Rene, the restaurant is expensive, but he has never believed in doing things by halves.
“What vanity?” she asks jokingly. “I have no vanity.” She’s a little vain when it comes to her looks, though she’d like to think she’s not overly vain. When it comes to her cooking, Midge is probably more vain, though Rene will have to create some sense of jealousy within her if he’s going to get her to bake for him.
He helps her into the cab and then gets in on the other side. When he tells her where they’re going, Midge’s lips can’t help but form a little o of surprise.
“I’ve never been there,” she tells him, “but I’ve heard it’s excellent.”
It’s one of the hottest restaurants in New York. How was he able to get a reservation so quickly?
For better or worse, Courfeyrac is extremely good at getting what he wants, and not just through simple charm or bribery. He's one of those people who is good at making friends in high places and low, and he almost always knows a guy who can do him a favor.
And he loves it, too. In fact, he'd found finding a way to get a table at one of the best restaurants in Manhattan almost as enjoyable as eating there.
Now, he allows himself a smile of triumph. "Well, I did promise you a special night. I would hate to let you down."
"I can't imagine anyone believing you aren't." The way Courfeyrac says it, it sounds like it could be a line--or it could not. Maybe he isn't entirely sure. But what he's sure of is that Midge is a delight. Regardless of how serious this thing between them will end up being (not very, if Rene's track record is anything to go by), she's the kind of girl a man finds easy to spoil.
He rests his arm on the back of the seat behind her, lightly drumming his fingers as they speed through New York City traffic. "Have an interesting week?"
He does know the right things to say to her. Midge isn’t a brat or a snob, but she likes nice things and she likes being pampered, treated like a princess. Taking her to La Côte Basque is a stroke of genius on his part.
They can have a frank conversation over dinner. Midge pulls no punches.
“Not too interesting, unless you count my son going to school in his Howdy Doody costume without any of us realizing it before it was too late,” Midge replies. “How about you?”
"And such a costume is considered...inappropriate?" Courfeyrac quips. "Nothing too exciting--well, I have a new roommate. There's this fellow in a few of my classes, Marius is his name, who had some sort of terrible falling out with his grandfather and had nowhere to live, so I told him he could sleep on my sofa until he sorts himself out."
“Considering that there’s a school uniform, yes,” Midge replies. “Everyone thought everyone else was helping him get dressed. Turns out none of us were.” Life with kids.
“That’s kind of you. I hope you’re not going to charge him rent for a sofa, though New York is a place where you could get away with that.”
The taxi drops them off outside of the restaurant and Midge puts her hand on Rene’s arm as they walk in. Time to see him work all of his social angles.
Courfeyrac chuckles. “Well, school uniforms are absolutely hideous, as a rule. He was probably the most fashionable boy in his class.”
Midge’s children are, at best, an abstraction to the young man. Their existence has never been a surprise to him, and he doesn’t see them as an obstacle to his flirtation. But to him, they are anecdotes more than people, and stories more than dependents. He certainly doesn’t think about what motherhood might mean to Midge.
He takes her arm as they leave the cab and walk to the restaurant. “Naturally not! What do you take me for?” he says, mock-offended, and then turns to the maitre’d. “Reservation for Rene Courfeyrac, Monsieur.”
Midge loves her children but feels like a terrible mother quite often. She’s out most nights of the week, so she’s not there to tuck them in to bed or read them stories. She loves them, of course, but she loves her career too. Balancing both of them is a puzzle that Midge hasn’t solved yet.
“An entrepreneur?” Midge asks jokingly. The maître’d leads them to their table, which is in a quiet little corner of the restaurant. Midge wonders if that was planned too.
“Now you really are trying to insult me,” Courfeyrac quips as they are led to the table. The waiter pulls out Midge’s chair for her, hands them menus, and disappears quietly and efficiently, as only waiters in expensive restaurants can.
Once he’s gone, Courfeyrac peers over the menu with a smirk. “Well, isn’t this terribly romantic.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t call a socialist an entrepreneur. Rene is, at least, taking it as the joke that Midge intended it to be.
She glances up at him over the top of her menu. “Is that what you wanted?”
Midge has no idea what he wants and it’s quite frustrating. All signs would point to him trying to woo her, but to what end remains a mystery. If he wants to fuck her, he should just say so.
Courfeyrac chuckles and lowers the menu with a boyish shrug. “Not on purpose.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “I think the friend who got me the reservation is trying to make me look good. Or possibly this is his idea of a joke.” He rolls his eyes. “Do you like it?”
“The restaurant?” Or the joke? She takes a look around. “It’s very nice.” Everything looks tastefully done, of course. There are candles on the table and abstract art on the walls. “Your friend must be very supportive of your personal life.”
Her eyes drop back to the menu. “I’m going to let you pick the wine,” Midge says. No point in arguing with a Frenchman about wine. “A red, please.”
“Who am I to argue with the lady?” says Courfeyrac, already running his finger down the wine list. When the waiter returns, he orders a bottle of Syrah from Provence, quipping, “A taste of home, forgive the indulgence. I grew up not very far from this winery, if memory serves.”
“I was going to ask where you’re from. Provence?” Midge says, trying to have a conversation while deciding what to order. “That’s in the south of France, isn’t it?”
Despite her mother being a Francophile, Midge’s own knowledge of France is limited.
Lucky for Midge, Courfeyrac has grown used to answering questions about French geography, and he only smirks briefly at her question. "Yes, in the south--near Marseille, to be exact, in my case. As a general rule, I don't believe in nostalgia, but when it comes to wine--" He offers a 'what can you do?' sort of shrug.
“More’s the pity. Paris has infinite charms, but there’s nothing like the South in the summertime.”
He folds his hands in front of him and leans forward slightly. “Because nostalgia is a trap. It tempts a person to long for the past when they should be looking towards the future. See here, ask anyone who says ‘things were simpler back then’ when, exactly, ‘back then’ was, and their answer will inevitably encompass the time they were a child. Quod erat demonstrandum, the world was simpler because they were a child, not because it was in better in some measurable, objective way.”
“I can always go back,” she says, leaving it at that. Midge isn’t asking for an invitation, of course.
“Aren’t you a philosopher?” Midge teases with a smile. “What if it’s not about things being better or simpler, but just about wanting to return to a time when you were happy? Being an adult isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“But that’s exactly it,” Courfeyrac says with growing exuberance. “People make assumptions about the world, even decisions about other people’s lives, based on their childhood happiness.”
Courfeyrac is briefly interrupted when the wine comes, transforming into someone polite and mannered as they go through the ritual of tasting and approving the bottle.
Then he's back at it. "Besides, not all childhoods are pleasant, even those that people may remember fondly."
It’s fascinating how Rene can switch from speaking about something so philosophical to being so genial with the waiter about the wine. It reminds her that he’s a law student, not just some silly Frenchman trying to woo her with words and wine.
“I haven’t thought about that,” Midge says. “If I’ve ever made decisions based on my childhood happiness, I certainly didn’t realize I was doing it.”
She raises her glass of wine to him. “What are we drinking to, Monsieur?”
“Freud would say we do all sorts of things because of our childhoods without realizing it,” says Courfeyrac with a grin. Psychoanalysis isn’t something he actually puts much stock in. “But it’s less about individuals. When governments act in nostalgia, that’s when the real trouble starts.”
He swirls his wine around, considering. “How about this-“ he holds out his glass, “to devestatingly charming new friends.”
“L’chaim,” she replies, clinking her glass against his, then sipping the wine. Midge nods her approval. “Good choice.”
“Freud would also say that you want to fuck your mother and that cocaine is good for concentration.” A wry smile. “Do you think the American government is nostalgic for twenty or thirty years ago? The war? The Depression?” Not particularly happy times in the history of this country.
cw: mention of antiblack violence, outdated language
“Twenty years? Perhaps not. But thirty or forty?” He shrugs and gives his wine glass another swirl. “I think that plenty of people on both sides of the Atlantic would like to forget the war entirely so that they could return to a time when women didn’t want jobs, colonial subjects knew their place, and—when it comes to this country—Negros could be lynched with impunity.”
Well, that’s sobering. Midge puts her glass of wine down on the table. Rene’s serious side is certainly on display tonight. Did they ever decide if this was a date or not?
“I hope Kennedy doesn’t want that,” Midge says quietly. “Otherwise, I’ll be upset that I wasted my vote.” She brightens slightly. “Did I ever tell you that I made Jackie Kennedy cry once?”
It’s hopefully a change of topic without making it completely obvious that that’s what she’s doing.
Almost immediately, Courfeyrac realizes that he has gone just a little too far. He does that sometimes—allowing his enthusiasm to push him past the line of what might be considered appropriate for any given situation. He doesn’t always care, of course, and often even enjoys the shock he can bring to people’s faces.
But tonight, he is trying to charm Midge, so he takes the hint.
“I think you may be more optimistic than I am about what a millionaire from Boston can do with the presidency, but I sincerely hope you’re right, cherie.”
All right, he mostly takes the hint.
But he lets the subject shift, raising his eyebrows. “And here I always assumed she was not allowed to cry, or show any emotion besides placid contentment. What did you do, Midge?”
She doesn’t mind discussing serious topics, although there is a time and a place for them. Tonight, it’s probably better to keep things light.
She finds that she likes the way that he says her name. With his accent, it sounds like ‘Meege’. “I made several jokes about unfaithful husbands that must have hit home,” Midge says with a raise of her own eyebrows. “Not my intention.”
The waiter returns to take their order and Midge goes first. “Coq au vin.” Yes, it has bacon in it. No, they’re not going to discuss that. Be glad she didn’t go for the steak, Rene.
“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t,” says Courfeyrac with a laugh. He isn’t entirely sure he believes her—how, after all, do you unintentionally stumble into a faux pas like that. “But you’re leaving out the important bit: how did you end up performing for the Kennedys in the first place?” While he’s polite enough not to say it, he has to wonder how one goes from a gig like that to performing at a seedy nightclub.
As for dinner—well, Courfeyrac doesn’t know a damn thing about Kosher dietary restrictions and doesn’t blink an eye at her order. “Contre Filet Roti, s’il vous plait,” he says, because he is a show-off.
Also because he speaks fluent French. Hopefully the waiter does too. Midge offers him a little “Merci” before he leaves.
“It wasn’t!” Midge says, her face full of indignation. “I mean, it wasn’t my intention to make her cry.” Jokes are always intentional. She gives a shrug at his question. “Susie knew somebody and they wanted a comedian for the fundraiser. The guests were all women, so…” Clearly, she was the best choice.
“How did you end up in the United States for law school?” It’s something she’s been wondering about for a while.
“A lot of people ask me that,” Courfeyrac says. “Americans are so very fascinated with France. Don’t misunderstand me, I love my country. But France thinks it’s the center of the world, and it hasn’t been for hundreds of years.” He shakes his head. “No, America is the center of the world now, for better or worse. No one who truly wants to change the world can afford hanging around Europe these days. So here I am.” He spreads his hands.
Midge thinks it’s pretty optimistic of him to want to change the world so radically, particularly starting in the United States. Anti-communism is strong here, and most uneducated people lump socialism in with communism without a second thought.
“I think I’d rather be in France,” she says. “Is it true that the French don’t like Americans?”
“That’s easy to say when you haven’t lived through a war there,” Rene points out. He had still been a child when the war ended, but its effects continue to haunt the country.
Still, he speaks without rancor, and at her question, he laughs. “Why shouldn’t we? You are all far too loud and you have absolutely no taste,” he teases. “But in all honesty, I don’t think most people care that much. They dislike tourists, perhaps—but who doesn’t?”
It’s true, and she’s fortunate that she didn’t. What she experienced in America was bad enough, and that was mostly sacrifice, not a destruction of her home and society.
“I don’t like tourists either,” she agrees with a shrug. “So you plan to stay here after you finish law school?”
“That is the plan, though I do like to keep my options open. Now,” he lifts his eyebrows, “as much as I enjoy talking about myself, I wouldn’t be any sort of gentleman if I made this dinner all about me. So tell me, Midge, what’s something about yourself that you don’t share in your comedy routine?”
Why is she not surprised that the spotlight has been turned back around on her? Midge rolls her eyes playfully and takes a sip of the wine, contemplating his question.
“I hate peas,” she says, her tone as if she’s imparting some great secret to him.
If he wants a real answer, he’s going to have to deal with a few stupid ones first.
“Oh! Oh dear,” says Rene without missing a beat. He takes a sip of his wine and looks her over with mock-concern. “And is this aversion the result of some childhood trauma too terrible to share on stage?”
Midge nods sincerely. “I can’t believe I admitted it to you here tonight. It’s one of my darkest secrets, along with the fact that I read the New York Post.”
Technically, both of her admissions are true. Fortunately, she reads other papers as well.
"Oh, you mustn't speak ill of the Post. I recommend it to everyone," Courfeyrac says with mock-seriousness. "There's no better source of comedy in the entirety of New York City."
That produces a smile. “Where do you think my best bits come from?” That part, at least is a lie.
She settles back in her chair and looks at him for a moment. Her gaze turns to her wine glass on the table.
“I was actually pretty devastated when my marriage ended,” Midge tells him quietly.
On stage, she’s a pretty happy divorcee, and ultimately it was the right decision to make, but she was completely blindsided and lost when Joel cheated on her.
Courfeyrac hadn’t entirely expected Midge to answer, let alone to offer something quite so personal. Now that she has, he sets his wine glass down and props his chin on his hand. “Naturellement. Your jokes could never be so good if they didn’t have something real behind them.” He sits back. “Though for the record, he must be an absolute fool.”
That comment produces a small smile. “I think he regrets it, but it’s too late. He can’t un-fuck his secretary.” Midge has forgiven him enough that they can co-parent their children together, but she will never get back together with him.
Maybe this revelation will help Courfeyrac to understand why she’s hesitant about taking things further than dinner. She doesn’t want to be made a fool of again, even if it is just sex.
Midge takes a long drink of wine before speaking again. “Anyway… that’s something you probably didn’t know.”
“Well, you have risen like a phoenix from the ashes, cherie, and I hope he knows it.” He grins slyly and clinks his glass against hers. “Is it true that you only started performing after he left? Because personal tragedy aside, it would have been a shame if the rest of us had never been given the opportunity to enjoy your wit.”
“That’s true,” Midge confirms. “The night he left, I got drunk and went to The Gaslight and got on stage for the first time. I didn’t think I’d ever do it again, except that I loved the rush that it gave me.”
Courfeyrac’s smile is giving her a similar rush, and she hates that. He’s too smug. She can’t give him what he wants. And yet it feels like he’s dismantling her defenses brick by brick.
No denying that Foggy spruces himself up before arriving slightly early for Midge's set. He's combed his hair and swapped a tie (one of Matt's because Foggy has no shame and he thinks it will help bring out his eyes). He's made certain to find a spot that isn't directly under a light, posted up at the bar with a neat whiskey throughout, and as good of an audience member as a comedian could want. He's an easily jovial man, after all, a trait that runs through the Nelson family as commonly as the blood in their veins.
Watching Midge, he can't help but amuse himself with how strongly he imagines she would command the courtroom floor. Humor is not always welcome, no, but a person who relies on humor knows how to improvise, how to read the room, and they're often as well-read as any academic, especially if they're trying to keep their jokes contemporary.
Just another reason he thinks maybe this setup isn't the worst, and part of why he's come at all. Matt is a decent wingman, yes, but he's also stupidly romantic. He's convinced more than anyone that Foggy needs someone who cherishes him and treats him like gold, but Foggy thinks that's a little bit of an overzealous ask in the real world where flaws are not so easily ignored because of a long history of solidarity.
He expects to be called out at some point, perhaps targeted for some witty repartee, but the end of the set rolls up and he's relieved to not have to go toe-to-toe with someone so objectively hilarious and sharp. The day will come — it always does — but for now he remains somewhat secure and thankful for not having been elegantly eviscerated by a woman who smiles so sweetly. Wholesome, she is not, but that only excites Foggy because he's not as wholesome as he looks, either.
"That was incredible," he tells Midge. Upon her approach, he gestures to the bartender who slides over her drink of choice. Foggy has his third whiskey — this is a few less than he might have usually gotten through — and he's flushed and all smiles between that and the laughter from the night. "You're legitimately the funniest person I've met, hands down. No lie."
Midge has never harbored any desire to be a lawyer, but with her command of a room, there’s no denying that she’d be good at it. It’s a fairly typical gig for her tonight. The crowd is good; no hecklers. It helps that this is one of the more classy establishments that she performs at. That being said, Midge knows how to handle hecklers. The most bothersome thing about them is that if a comedian allows them to, they can hijack a whole set. The best thing to do is shut them down and move on.
From the stage, Midge can see Susie lurking in the smoky background, as always. She looks for Foggy and is pleased to find him at the bar. They’ve only met briefly before, at the law office when she was visiting Matt. Tonight will be their first chance to talk and Midge is looking forward to it.
There’s no denying that Matt is an attractive man, both good-looking and extremely charming. How could Midge not hit on him? She imagines that in Foggy’s friendship with Matt, he frequently gets overlooked by women who zero in on Matt’s good looks, charm and blindness, which probably makes a lot of women want to take care of him. Never mind that Matt seems extremely competent and neither needs nor wants to be coddled. It must be frustrating for Foggy. Midge, being objectively beautiful, doesn’t have that problem, but she can empathize. Looks aren’t everything, and she needs someone who can match her intellectually and appreciate her humor. If she’s not Matt’s type and he’s not interested, she doesn’t blame him for suggesting his friend instead. And honestly, he might be on to something.
Midge typically doesn’t do a lot of crowd work with her sets, and she certainly wouldn’t call out someone who she has yet to share more than pleasantries with. After she leaves the stage, Midge makes quick work of Susie by telling her - of all things - the truth. Her manager can’t complain though. They’re done for the night and they’ve both gotten paid. Foggy hopefully won’t see the side eye Susie gives him as she heads out the door.
There’s a grin on Midge’s face when she approaches Foggy at the bar. She thanks the bartender for the martini waiting for her when she sits down. Foggy’s praise is almost excessive in Midge’s eyes and she actually blushes.
“Oh, come on. Have you had too many of those?” She gestures to his glass of whiskey.
He chuckles lightly and swirls his drink in its glass. It's pleasant, if not a little expensive for his tastes because he usually has a limit on how much he'll spend on himself in cases where he's the drinking alone.
"No, no, I'm serious." He defends his stance by setting aside his drink and pressing his hands together as if that says I swear. "I admit I haven't seen a lot of live shows like this one, but I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee myself."
Standing from his stool, he smoothes down his tie and jacket and then offers his arm to her, not unlike he would Matt. Predictably, he's fine on his feet, ever bit the same amount of grace as when he'd walked in sober. He's used to this — he's done it a lot — and as unfortunate as it is to be a functional alcoholic, it means he keeps his wits about him for a hell of a lot longer than most.
"That looks quiet enough," Foggy notes to a table along the wall. He hadn't missed Susie — short and menacing under her cap — and is relieved to see he won't have to pass her in order to get them somewhere more private. "Are you hungry? Should I try to find us something better than pretzels or peanuts? If I was smarter about this, I would have come with some sandwiches stuffed in my pockets."
“Well, I’m glad your pants stayed dry,” Midge replies. That’s quite an image. She guesses that she should be flattered if she can make a grown man wet himself.
Midge takes her martini in one hand and Foggy’s arm in the other. He’s secreting her off to a private corner, and she doesn’t blame him. It’s not as if he has to twist her arm to get her to go with him.
She sits across from him, but the table is small enough that it still feels intimate. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Midge replies to his inquiries about food. “Sneaking sandwiches into a club though, that’s a good idea. My father does that when he goes to the movies.”
Holding her glass up to him, she gives him a smile. “L’chaim. I’m glad we have a chance to get to know each other.”
He finds it a bit tough not to make a crack about dry pants, especially considering their earlier text exchange, but resolves to not go out of his way to try to make Midge laugh. That would be like her trying to lawyer at him. Of course, he laughs, then, when she mentions her father and almost immediately he thinks he wants to meet the man. The cost of popcorn is absolutely egregious! If you can sneak in a corned beef on rye instead, why the hell not?
"L’chaim," he responds, tipping their glasses together. He's certainly done that enough before that it comes easily. "And sláinte," Foggy adds, glad to offer something of himself in return, reminded instantly of tipsy family gatherings and messy toasts.
When he sips, he does so carefully. This is a man hoping not to get too drunk, and now that they've sworn off food he knows the risk of having just a bit too much.
"So, what's a typical night look like for you after a show like this?" Foggy's curious what she would be off to do instead, whether she would have been heading home or going out to seize the night life for its connections and humorous offerings.
Her father is neurotic, but his thinking is along the same lines as Foggy’s: popcorn is way too expensive and he’d rather have a sandwich anyway.
“Sláinte,” Midge replies, clinking her glass against his. Cultural traditions satisfied, she can answer his question.
“It depends on which club I’m at and what type of mood I’m in. Sometimes I hang around and have a drink. Sometimes I go home. Rarely, I have a handsome man meet me here and have a few drinks with him.” She smiles. “Every once in a while, I go to the diner at the end of the block for pancakes.”
If Foggy feels uncomfortable and needs to get some food in him to counteract the alcohol, Midge would want him to eat.
With the demeanor of a guy who knows how to settle in while still looking as if he's got himself entirely together, Foggy grins at her compliment. To his credit, he doesn't flush like a peach in the sun, but only because he's also had at least a little experience stemming such obvious tells; cool and collected is the tone of his courtroom presence.
To her question, he nods. "I did, yeah," he says. "Born and raised, as they say. Hell's Kitchen for life," Foggy adds, pumping a fist with a self-deprecating laugh. As much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, he knows it often gets a black eye for everything that goes on there.
"Matt and I lived at the dorms when we were in college. The day I moved back, I was so glad to get out of Manhattan, I drank myself stupid doing the bar crawl from the deli down to where my folks live. Needless to say, I did not make it home. When I woke up I was in a speakeasy that I swear wasn't there when I went back. Or maybe wasn't there when I left and I'd just gotten drunk in some person's fancy parlor."
Once more, he lifts his drink as if to acknowledge both the brilliance and the stupidity. "Come to think of it, that night started a little bit like this..." He fixes her with an appraising stare, perhaps a bit challenging in its own right.
She laughs gently at his pride in his neighborhood. “People don’t usually get that excited about the Upper West Side,” Midge says. The people that live there don’t get excited about much of anything. It’s funny, Hell’s Kitchen and the Upper West Side aren’t that far apart geographically, but they’re a world apart when it comes to wealth and status.
“Oh so you’re that guy my parents found in the hallway of their building that time…” she jokes. Midge raises an eyebrow at Foggy, not sure what he's challenging her to. “You… want to hit every bar between here and where my parents live?”
That happens to also be where she lives. And where her kids live. Somehow, she thinks sloppy drunk is not the first impression he wants to make on the rest of her family.
"What, you don't think they'd be ready for a reunion after all this time?" he jokes back, amused at the mental image of some memory that never was. He doesn't know what Midge's parents are like, but he can't imagine they're entirely humorless considering their daughter.
"I'm just saying, with the Full Foggy Experience, there's really no telling what we could get up to." Of course, Foggy does have a job to get to in the morning, but that's never stopped him from having fun, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning, often while chasing the bottom of a bottle. "Lady's choice, of course," Foggy adds. If that means karaoke or a stop at a diner or finding a night market, then he's game. As he gets older this becomes more difficult, but it certainly hasn't stopped him from having a good time.
Her parents are surprisingly humorless. Or rather, they’re funny without realizing that they are or trying to be. Midge showing up drunk with her date, also drunk, probably wouldn’t go over well.
“You’re the sort that likes to go on an adventure, aren’t you?” Midge says with amusement. She’s rather used to the typical bars and restaurants and clubs, but she could be open to something different. “You know,” she continues, “I’m kind of in the mood for pancakes.”
Foggy tosses his hands up in a gentle surrender. "Guilty as charged, your honor. I am both in the mood for pancakes and also adventure. But I am open to pancakes being the adventure. And if you think we can't turn pancakes into adventure, you are in for a treat."
To wit, he tosses back what's left of his drink in one go and stands, offering his hand. He is, by all rights, the most fiddly and overworked "lazy" man, who expresses his leisure with boundless energy. It's not unlike burning the candle at both ends, except he's just holding two flame to the middle.
"I'm an ad-libber. I can plan ahead, but I do my best work on the move." Even in the courtroom, it's when he tosses out his prepared words that he makes the biggest impression.
“Okay, then.” Midge is admittedly curious about how the diner down the block can become an adventure, but she’s willing to wait and see.
Similarly, she downs her martini, then takes Foggy’s hand and stands up. “Just let me get my coat and purse,” she tells him before disappearing into the employees only part of the club.
She returns with her coat, hat and purse about five minutes later and puts her hand on Foggy’s arm. “Alright,” she says. “Take me on an adventure.”
The diner up the street is as impressive as suggested and Foggy feels grateful to sop up some of the alcohol with the fluffy plate of pancakes. Now that he's made it through the initial part of the evening — the hard part — he finds that he wants to reach for clarity, to be able to catalog this experience with Midge and keep it instead of letting it drift through him like weak beer.
Her wit is sharp and quick but Midge he finds possesses a softness that appeals to him. She doesn't spare he mind, but when she speaks it's for other people as much as herself. New York has always been on the forefront, but in recent years Foggy has not felt the same pride in the city as he once had, especially seeing how resistant some are to the changes around them.
People simply ask to be counted and seen, but those with the most always resist.
At times Foggy feels he's part of the problem as a member of an elite class of paid consultants who value connections and money over ethics or morals, but even within his own peer network he's known for promoting good work over anything else. In fact, Marci Stahl, one of the most successful lawyers in New York, happens to be not only an ex of Foggy's, but also one of the loudest voices of feminism in the industry. When Marci succeeded, Foggy stood behind her, not in front. He vocally approved of her skills the same way he did Matt's, and it never mattered to him that she wore a high heels and skirts to do it. Hell, to Foggy that simply added to the challenge and he often wondered when other men were being crass about her if they'd have the same impact on a jury if they were smooshing their toes into high-heeled shoes during closing arguments.
He doesn't need to tell Midge any of this, but he advertises it in how he allows her carte blanche. Nothing is off the table and the only scandal Foggy presents relates to how quickly his coffee mug empties. In reality, time is passing so quickly because he's having such a great time. He hardly notices how long it's been and looks utterly flabbergasted when the waitress appears with a note.
"Kicking us out already, Phyllis?" When he asks, he gives her a tired grin. He's only just met her but he knows he name and treats her life family. She scoffs and pats his arm, amused.
"You've got a call, hon," she tells him, gesturing to the headset off the hook behind the counter. "I'll have you warmed up when you get back."
Foggy turns to look at the phone as the waitress leaves, eyebrows knitting. He can only think of one person who would have tracked him down here and if Matt's calling, something's wrong.
His stomach dumps into his shoes but he tells himself not to panic, not to make a scene. It would help if his body could get the message, but he's taken on an obvious pallor that Foggy can't do much to hide.
"I'd better see what that's about," he tells her, reaching across the table to grab her hand and squeeze it apologetically before sliding out of the booth. While the receiver's to his ear, he looks sincere and concerned. He'll probably be talking for at least a minute or two, eventually scribbling an address onto a nearby ticket book with large block letters.
Similarly, Midge is glad to sit down and eat with him. He seems more relaxed in the diner and it gives the two of them a chance to really talk to each other. She wants to get to know him, not just hook up with him.
He’s charming, intelligent, funny, and seems to enjoy allowing her to speak her mind. That’s sometimes a rare find in men, but it’s a must for any man who is going to be with her. Midge is not the silent type when it comes to her opinions. She was always vocal; now she’s gone public with them. Foggy doesn’t seem to mind that at all.
It’s disappointing when it seems like Phyllis is going to kick them out because this is one of the best dates Midge has been on in a long time. She can’t believe how long they’ve been sitting here talking.
The phone call is… odd. Who even knows that they’re here? Midge watches across the diner as Foggy takes the call, his face looking more worried by the minute.
“Who was that?” Midge asks after he returns to the table. “Is something wrong?”
Foggy has already retrieved his wallet and he's sporting the appropriately apologetic expression intermingled with his own concern. He places down enough money to cover what they've had — generous tip and all — and frowns at Midge.
"It's Matt," he says, voice quiet and sober. "He's been— arrested," Foggy adds, grimacing. Of course Matt's one call is going to be to his best friend, now his attorney. He had known that Foggy was meeting Midge at the club and from there the relay of information had pointed towards the diner. He'd been appropriately apologetic himself, but it doesn't stop Foggy from feeling somewhat at a loss for these next few moments.
He chews his lip. "I'm going to need to see him, but—" Foggy hesitates. He doesn't allow himself to stop. "Would you want to come with me? I know it's not glamorous, but I'm not quite ready for our night together to end..."
There’s obvious surprise on Midge’s face at Foggy’s words. Of all things, that’s not what she was expecting to hear. If this is indeed a date, jail isn’t usually where Midge would want it to end up, but she’s come this far. She’s loathe to see their night end as well.
“Yeah, I’ll come.” Midge puts her coat on. She’s honestly a little bit worried about Matt. “It’ll be nice to be on the other side of the bars for once.”
Hopefully Foggy won’t mind her trying to lighten the mood. It’s what she does.
It does help, although Foggy feels guilty that they've been interrupted when he was having such a good time. It makes him that much more self-conscious, that much more frustrated with himself that when Matt calls, Foggy is beholden to respond. That's what good friends do, yes, but on the one night where Foggy is with this beautiful woman? The woman that Matt set him up with? It feels a little too selfish, even if he knows Matt wouldn't have called if it weren't important.
"Sounds like you guys have all the fun," he tells her, a thin smile of amusement gracing his soft features. "I've never been to jail, but that doesn't mean it's not on my bucket list." Would he purposefully get himself tossed in jail? Hell no. But if he happened to get collared while being wrapped up in a bar fight or something, he wouldn't cry about having that experience.
"It helps with clients sometimes that a lawyer can empathize," he notes, "But I'm sure that's not why Matt's done it. He probably got harassed by some jerk for being blind and popped him in the face or something. It's just going to take a little finagling."
Somehow Foggy remains positively upbeat about the strangest things.
“You want to go to jail?” Midge asks with a huff of a laugh. “I’ve never been in there for more than a few hours, but trust me, it’s not a party.”
She takes Foggy’s arm as they leave the diner. Tonight is turning out to be more of an adventure than she bargained for.
“It’s nice that you want to empathize with your clients, but jail’s a pain in the ass. Did Matt say where he is?”
Do they need to catch a cab or can they walk? If Matt punched someone for making fun of his disability, Midge hopes the other guy’s in the hospital. That’s one of the only places that can be worse than jail.
Foggy is intimately familiar with how very un-partylike jail and prison happens to be. He spends a lot of time keeping people out of those spaces because even a guilty individuals will struggle in general population, and with the way the justice system has become an increasing mockery of the institution, it's hard enough to keep they money from corrupting it all in the favor of overcrowding and over-prosecution.
"He's not far," Foggy says, reaching to squeeze her hand where he's held onto him. He doesn't feel particularly worried — Matt's a survivor — but he knows the majority of the world sees him as a blind guy we probably needs more help than he lets on. (Of course, it's not untrue, but it's got nothing to do with Matt's blindness and everything to do with Matt having entirely too many aspirations for so few hands and so little capital.
"You okay with the subway? Three stops will get us close enough," he adds, figuring that gives her a good enough idea of how off course they'll end up.
“Sure,” she replies. Her mother would probably balk at the idea of her on the subway at night, but she’s with Foggy. He’s no Sugar Ray, but Midge thinks he could hold his own if someone tried to attack them. He’d probably try to talk them out of it and would probably succeed.
The two of them reach the entrance to the subway and hurry down the stairs. The trains are deserted at this time of night. Fortunately, they only have to wait a few minutes until they get on.
“Well, Mr. Nelson,” Midge says as they sit down. “You sure know how to show a girl an interesting time.”
Pressed close, knee-to-knee, Foggy is leaned over his legs to stare down at the floor of the car. He spends a lot of time doing this back and forth business for the firm and he's gotten into the habit of just turning off to the world when he's in that space. The unwritten no one wants to be here, so keep to yourself vibe.
Midge drags him back, though, with her comment making him sit against the seat again and offer her a thin smile. He feels the tug of guilt as he looks at her. This isn't anyone's idea of a good time and he thinks that's obvious by her choice of the word interesting here. Not good, or great, or even fun. Interesting. Of interest. Something to note.
"Yeah, this is a sad excuse for a date, I know. I hope you'll let me make it up to you, Midge," Foggy says, genuinely. "This is—" He gestures at everything and nothing, a vague note for her to understand he means what's going on. "This is my life, for better or worse. It's a pretty regular occurrence that I'm forced to drop personal priorities for work, but I don't want you to think you're not important, or that I don't regret having to disappoint you."
Tentatively, he reaches for her hand, hoping to take it into his own. "And no point pretending it's not disappointing. Not everyone likes their date to turn into a side-quest. It's not my preference," Foggy admits. But he does it because it's Matt and Matt needs the support for all that he does.
Interesting doesn’t necessarily mean bad. She was having fun until Foggy got the call at the diner. Right now, she’s not not having fun, but is bailing your friend out of jail really fun?
“I don’t mind a little adventure,” Midge tells him, allowing him to take her hand in his. “But I’m also very happy to let you make this up to me.” That’s her indirect way of saying that she’d like to see him again.
If this is his life, it’s a hectic one. Her own life is rather busy between her kids and her career. Midge hopes that the two of them will have time for each other. Such a relationship seems like it would be worth it.
This is, admittedly, the unfortunate pace of a New York lawyer (who could have and probably should have been a butcher). Thankfully, Midge gets the picture and Foggy finds himself relieved and a little bit taken by the offering. Foggy certainly doesn't help in making his life easier — he could do that with a few more high profile cases (or one fewer Catholic partners) — but he's always felt better having his feet fully on the ground; a high corner office doesn't usually allow for that.
Thankfully, Foggy has a brand of local magic that stems from his good relationships around town. He doesn't take more than a few minutes to spring Matt who gets released into Foggy's care. Little worse for wear, but lacking his cane and sporting a few cuts and scrapes, he's given a firm but quiet lecture amidst his apologies and then Foggy puts him in a cab and sends him on his way.
It feels late and as he watches the taillights on the cab retreating, he turns his attention back to Midge and splays his hands.
"Not too bad, but that guy needs to get himself a few more friends with bail money," he jokes quietly, all the while looking twice as apologetic as he had earlier. "I'd call him a menace if he hadn't made this possible," Foggy adds, gesturing between the two of them before carefully and slowly stepping into her personal space. Despite the disappointments, he can't deny getting to spend any time with Midge's vibrancy is a boon. It creates a soft smile and he reaches out to sneak a grip around her hand, urging her even closer.
"You're really going to let me see you again, huh?" Because after all this, he is a bit surprised she's not at least a little put off. "I will make it up to you. No interruptions next time. Promise."
If anything, tonight served as a confirmation that she made the right choice in picking Foggy over Matt. Matt’s a very good-looking man, but his life seems like a mess. What kind of a blind man picks a fight? Foggy, by comparison, looked extremely confident as he talked up the police officers and got Matt released. He made it seem so easy, and frankly, that was very attractive.
“I know who I’m calling the next time I get arrested.” She’s joking… maybe. If she does ever call Foggy to bail her out, she’ll at least pay him back.
When he moves closer to her, she can feel her heartbeat start to pick up. “Of course,” Midge replies. “Tonight was an adventure, wasn’t it? But I’m going to hold you to that promise.”
He’s close enough for her to lean in and press her lips gently to his. It’s a bold move, but she doesn’t think he’ll mind.
Not unlike Midge, Foggy can sense the way anticipation is building within his limbs. They feel heavy, unwilling to move any direction other than nearer to this beautifully patient woman. Skin warmed by their proximity, he finds himself holding his breath a second before their lips meet.
Pressed together, lips meeting sweetly, Foggy can't help but drown in the blooming flutters tickling his insides. His mouth matches hers in enthusiasm, borrowing light pressure and searching for that perfect angle. His arms link around her and squeezes gently, lifting her and pulling her more readily against him. And when he breaks free, he's appropriately breathless, laughing and holding her still, but near-timid about how little he wants to let go.
"You made the night feel adventurous. If I would have been alone, it would have just been depressing," he says, softly. "I'm excited to see where we'll go next."
It’s a good kiss, one that sends shivers down her spine while simultaneously making her feel flushed. When he wraps his arms around her, her hands instinctively go to his chest, toying with the lapels of his jacket as they kiss. She’s reluctant to pull away except for anything other than breathing, and stays close even after they part.
“Glad I could make bailing your friend out of jail fun,” she says with a smile. “Hopefully I can have you all to myself next time though.”
[ His ‘aw shucks’ attitude whenever Midge shows her attraction to him is so sweet. She knows that he’s been through a lot, the extent of which she’s hardly aware. The war was hard for a lot of people, but it was particularly bad for Bucky. The fact that he made his interest in her known at all is a big step forward. Midge won’t push him, but she won’t hold back either.
The metal arm doesn’t really bother her. It fascinates her more than anything. She’s glad to see that he’s not wearing his gloves, even if it means he’ll probably get some questions.
Midge puts her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk towards the elevator. ]
It’s only a few blocks from here. She’s a friend of mine from college and I don’t see her very often. [ She turns to him. ] But if I’ve got you for the night I don’t plan on staying very long.
The “divorce party” ends up being more of a social gathering for Midge to see some friends she hasn’t seen in a while, and for her show off Alfred. She set a period of time in the evening for people to drop in at the apartment for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. People have been in and out, but it’s been a good showing so far. Midge ended up inviting Joel, though he said he’d be there later in the evening. If he comes at all. Midge kind of wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Alfred’s been charming and everyone keeps asking him where he’s from. He’s a good conversationalist and he’s held his own against Midge’s friends. During a lull, she slides up next to him, wrapping an arm around him. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress that she looks absolutely stunning in.
Alfred is nervous at first, he always is when he has to mingle with people who are from a higher class than him, a part of him worries that they'll be able to smell the fact that he's from East London and will judge and shun him. Those worries quickly fade when he realizes that no one knows where or what Whitechapel is and the people here think he sounds 'just darling' and he relaxes and actually starts to enjoy himself.
When Midge comes over he leans in to kiss her cheek, grateful for the break in trying to impress her friends.
"No one has thrown a drink on me yet so yes, I am."
Fortunately, most Americans know nothing about London and what parts are the posh bits. Alfred would have been in a much worse position if he were from Staten Island or, God forbid, New Jersey.
Midge smiles at the kiss. “Thankfully, none of my friends are that rude. Everyone loves your accent.”
“I’m a professional,” she replies, “but you make me laugh, so you’re pretty good too.”
They’re next to the minibar, so Midge turns to it and begins to make herself another martini. “Want another drink?” she asks. The other guests are occupying themselves, so she’s happy to spend this time with Alfred.
He says, watching her make her drink with a little smile. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight and when she puts down the martini shaker he slips in to steal a kiss.
“No, I told them the truth,” she replies before handing him his drink. “I don’t think there are many couples who can say they met that way. Cheers.” Midge clinks her martini glass against his.
“That’s Susie, my manager,” she says. “I’m kind of surprised it’s taken her this long to meet you.” Susie usually wouldn’t have bothered to wait for an introduction. She would have just tracked Alfred down and confronted him. Midge wonders why she hasn’t yet. “I’d like to apologize for her in advance.”
[ooc: just a heads up that I have a busy work week this week so I'm going to have to drop our tfln thread.]
He clinks his glass against hers and takes a sip, his eyes shifting upwards to the person Midge is pointing out.
"Why?" He asks, clearly curious as to why she is apologizing so soon about the short woman who is currently grabbing herself a beer. "Is she going to challenge me to a duel or something?"
"Course I don't talk like the Queen, she's a posh bird. Like Midge." He says with a little smile because once again, Americans just can't tell the difference between regional accents.
"And I promise to only distract her when she's not on stage."
Susie looks at Midge. “Oh, I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”
“I’m not that posh,” Midge replies. “A ‘posh bird’ is—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know what it is,” Susie cuts in. She does not know what it is. The British have weird slang. Her eyes give Alfred another wary once over. “Well, the quality of her performances hasn’t slipped yet, so I guess I’m fine with you.”
"Gee thanks." He quips back, tipping a wink to Midge to show her he doesn't mind Susie's brash attitude and then grows slightly more serious.
"But seriously, Midge isn't the first performer I've known. I understand it takes a lot of work to be successful so I'm not going to do anything to hinder that."
Alfred is very good at hiding his reactions. Susie probably didn’t even notice that anything was amiss, but Midge felt it in the way that Alfred’s arm tightened ever so slightly around her waist and a slight dip in his smile. Micro reactions that she’s come to notice in the time that they’ve been together. Midge knows there’s someone from the past, someone Alfred doesn’t like to talk about.
Susie just stares blankly at Alfred for a moment before turning back to Midge.
“I booked you at Mr. Lu’s in Chinatown next week.”
“Is that a Chinese restaurant?” Midge asks.
“No. It’s a club. The manager promised me you’d have the 9:00 slot. If he bumps you, I get to punch him in the face.”
“You were your charming self,” Midge replies. A moment later, something clicks for her. “You were trying to throw her off by asking her about dating, weren’t you?”
Midge hums in her throat and smooths the lapel on his jacket. She supposes that now’s not the time to talk about it either. It’s a sensitive subject with him, but Midge hopes he’ll open up to her about it one day.
She sips her martini. “The art of deflection. Guess the military taught you something, eh?”
ooc: figured now would be a fun time to add in Midge's ex
"More than something." He says, his tone somber and serious.
"It taught me everything, good and bad."
"Did it teach you how to seduce recent divorcees?" A voice says from behind them and Alfred turns to see a good looking bloke, giving him the death glare.
Midge takes a deep breath when she hears the sound of Joel’s voice, then turns to him.
“I really didn’t expect you to come to a divorce party,” she says.
“Why not?” He replies. “I’m part of the divorce too.”
The irony is that Alfred did seduce her, at least a little bit. He showed up at her apartment one night and talked the panties right off of her. It was entirely consensual though. Her eyes furtively flick to the couch where she and Alfred had…
Midge clears her throat. “Alfred, this is Joel, my ex-husband. Joel, this is Alfred.”
Of course this is the ex-husband, no one else would be so immediately on the defensive and Alfred gives him a nod but does not extend a hand towards the other man. Not after he's made a jab at Midge already.
"All right, mate." He says in greeting, his tone neutral even though he already doesn't like the way Joel is looking him up and down.
"I'm also the father of our children, Ethan and Esther." He says and looks at Midge, "Has he met them yet?
“No,” Midge replies calmly. “I wanted you two to meet first.” Even if Joel is being hostile, Midge is going to match that with calmness, at least for now. Joel knows every single one of her buttons to push.
She’s noticed that the two men didn’t shake hands. Not off to a good start. Midge doesn’t get the hostility. Joel cheated on her. Did he think she’d never move on with someone else?
There’s an awkward silence as Joel looks around at the other guests, friends of theirs, or former friends maybe. Maybe everyone here has taken Midge’s side.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll leave. Feels weird, considering that I used to live here.”
“Joel…” Midge says.
“I’ll call you tomorrow about the kids.” He’s not going to stay here and fight a losing battle against his ex-wife, her new boyfriend and a group of their old friends. Joel puts his beer down on the table and leaves the apartment.
Midge sighs deeply and puts her face in her hands.
Alfred watches the way Midge crumples, hiding her face in her hands and he makes a snap decision and goes out after Joel who is standing on the curb trying to flag down a cab. When he sees Alfred coming he scowls and tries to turn away but Alfred puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Joel, listen..."
"Get your hand off me."
"I'm not trying to replace you."
Joel stops, his body tensing as if he is about to try and punch Alfred but when he looks at the other man he finds that Alfred's face is sincere and calm and after a moment he relaxes slightly.
"I know you two have a past, I'm not trying to erase that. And I would never come between you and your kids, that's not the type of man I am." He explains softly but then lifts his brows at Joel, "But I'm also not the type of bloke to stand around and have someone be rude to me or the woman I care about."
Joel inhales sharply but then huffs out a small laugh.
"Yeah, all right. I kind of started it."
"And I continued it." Alfred admits and then extends a hand out, "Let's start over. I'm Alfred Pennyworth."
Joel eyes the hand for a second and then clasps it firmly, giving it a shake.
Midge watches as Alfred goes after Joel. Horrified, she runs to the window that looks out over the street. When Alfred grabs Joel, Midge is convinced that a fight is about to break out. Whatever Alfred says to him next seems to get through to him, because a few moments later, the two of them are shaking hands. She breathes a sigh of relief.
Through the window Midge will see the two men talking for a bit longer and after a bit Joel actually laughs and claps Alfred on the back, the two share a few more words and then Alfred hails a cab for the other man. Giving him a wave before he heads back inside.
"You peeping on the neighbours?" He asks Midge as he comes over.
“It kind of was,” she says. At least he made it right though.
Midge sighs. “He may have cheated on me, but he’s really not a terrible guy.”
They get along most of the time, though arguments do happen frequently enough that Midge doesn’t regret her divorce. Ultimately, it’s about keeping things civil for the kids.
"Sometimes I can't help but push back if someone is being aggressive towards me." He says quietly and gives her another squeeze, "But tonight wasn't the time. So I'm sorry."
He pauses to just hold her for a moment before pulling back and offering her a little smile, "We've decided to meet up next week for a pint. Just the two of us so we can talk like regular blokes."
Without an audience of Midge's friends or the pressure of trying to behave or act a certain way.
“It would,” she agrees, “especially if you plan on staying around.”
He’s been around for a while now. Midge doesn’t know when he’s going back to England and he’s a bit afraid to ask. She’s going to miss him tremendously.
“I hope not,” she replies, “but I know this isn’t your home.” Her face clouds at the thought of him leaving. “I… wouldn’t expect you to be here forever.”
“I guess I’ll keep you, then.” Midge smiles up at him, then rests her forehead against his. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
The guests start to make their way out one by one until just Midge and Alfred are left. She sits on the couch, exhausted, but tugs in his hand so that he’ll sit next to her.
“Parties are fun, but can be exhausting,” she says. “To be honest, I’m glad to have you all to myself again.”
Alfred makes sure to say goodbye to each of her friends, wanting to make sure he leaves a good impression, especially after the debacle with her ex. But once they're all gone he flops down next to her with a sigh.
"Same. It was fun but it's nice and quiet now, just the two of us."
“Every single time, love,” she replies, her fingers digging into his dark hair. “You never leave me unsatisfied. I’ve never known a man who likes eating a woman out more than you do.”
"Maybe." He murmurs before moving to meet her in that kiss, his tongue slipping past her parted lips as his hand moves higher, the hem of her dress being pushed smoothly up her legs.
Midge moans softly against his mouth, feeling her heart start to race as he pushes her skirt up her thigh. She opens her legs more for his wandering hand as her own hands grasp the front of his shirt.
He kisses her slowly but thoroughly, his tongue dipping in deep as his hand slips higher. The tips of his fingers brush against her silk panties, grazing the warm area between her legs.
"Or I could just have a little feel around for them." He says with a grin and slips one of his fingers past the inner elastic of her panties, stroking her pussy gently.
After removing Alfred’s tie, Midge drops it to the floor before pulling him in for a kiss. She’s rocks her hips back against his hand, a silent request for more.
He is happy to let her pull him in, pressing his lips against hers as his finger continues to slip in and out smoothly while his thumb shifts to rub at her clit gently.
“Always…” she murmurs against his skin. As his middle finger strokes over her opening, Midge starts to unbutton his shirt, wanting more of his flesh to kiss.
He chuckles again and slowly inserts his middle finger to join his index one inside her, filling her up a little more as she goes to work on his shirt.
Her moan is a bit louder as she feels his second finger push inside. His shirt now open, Midge runs her hands over his chest. She parts her legs even wider so that she can more easily thrust her hips back against his moving fingers.
“Alfred…” she murmurs against his neck before starting to kiss further down his body.
[ OOC: sorry for falling off of the earth, I was traveling. ]
Being brought to a whole new world has been an exciting experience, to say the least. Jaskier has only been here for a couple of months, but he's already decided that he doesn't want to leave. Especially since his whole (found) family has been brought along. Now that Geralt, Cirilla, and Yennefer are safe from the war that was threatening the Continent, Jaskier can finally relax and dedicate his life to unshamed hedonism.
(The warm water available in every house is a big selling point.)
Unfortunately, being at a new place also means having to rebuild his career from scratch. He's picked a few new instruments, even if he hasn't mastered them yet, but tavern (or bar, whatever they call it) crawling for gigs like a newbie isn't something he missed. At least people in this world are receptive to his music, and the bigotry is low.
Well, most of the time anyway.
Jaskier still doesn't take criticism well, so it's not surprising that after a heckler got a little too loud, chaos took over the bar. And here he is now, sitting in a cell. Again. Story of his life. At least the heckler was sent to a different cell; thank the gods for small favors. He's already made his call, and now he has to wait - he's never been good at waiting. An anti-authorities song is already on the edge of his lips when suddenly the cell opens and another prisoner is brought in. A prisoner that's very easy on the eyes.
Blue eyes sparkle at the sight, and he isn't at all smooth when he checks the woman out. Not only is she a beauty, she has style, something he greatly appreciates.
"I must say," his tone is clearly flirty, a grin reaching his lips as he speaks from the corner of the cell. "I usually don't expect people who dress as well as I do in this particular neck of the woods." His finger makes a whirl to indicate the lovely jail they're in.
Midge wouldn’t think that she looks very attractive right now, considering that she’s highly irritated. A male guard leads her in to the cell, squeezing her arm far too tightly as he does. “Let go of me!” she snaps. “I can walk on my own.” The officer dumps her in the cell and then leaves, closing the door behind him. “Asshole,” Midge murmurs under her breath and rubs at her arm. It will probably bruise, and she wonders if she can sue for that.
Of all the nights for The Wolford to have a raid, it’s a night where Susie wasn’t there. Thankfully, Midge was able to call her as soon as she got through booking and she’s on her way. It’s not that Midge hasn’t been arrested before, but this time they lumped her in with the other performers, despite the fact that she’s fully dressed and they weren’t. She’s been charged with indecent exposure before, so it’s not new, but she’s actually innocent this time. And sober.
She’s been separated from the other girls for some reason, a ray of hope that the cops might actually know she’s not one of the dancers, but she probably shouldn’t get her hopes up. The only other person in the cell is a man who is quite obviously giving her a once over. At least the cell is bars on 3 of the 4 walls, so the officers can see what’s happening inside. If they care.
Midge smooths out her dress and sits down opposite the other man. He looks friendly enough, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. You can’t trust that people have good intentions in a city like this.
“You must be new here,” she says, exhaling deeply and resting her head back against the wall. “It’s not my first rodeo, though it has been a while.”
She dresses well and she's feisty. Jaskier adores her already.
He's a bit disappointed to see her sit on the opposite side, but he doesn't blame her. Jaskier wouldn't sit next to the kind of people you usually find in jail either, because of safety but also because of how they fucking smell. Add to this the fact she's a woman and he's a male stranger... yeah, not blaming her at all. Good for her for taking care of herself.
That won't stop him from trying to charm her, of course. He just needs to prove he's friendly first. Jaskier chuckles when she calls him new, waving a dismissive hand with more flourish than necessary. Not even jail will stop him from being dramatic.
"New to this specific establishment?" Oh, the sarcasm is strong. "Yes. But far from new to ending my nights behind bars." A wink - the first of many to come. "If you're willing to clap along, I have at least three songs for Officer Nincompoop over there." The insult matches his tone, which indicates he doesn't like the man at all. His voice turns friendly and curious when he adds- "Although I wouldn't mind hearing how a pretty thing like you has had so many rodeos, as you call them."
She’s ready to scream and claw at him if he tries anything. This is not the night. Fortunately, it seems like he’s content to flirt with her from eight feet away.
Very dramatic. And he’s winking at her. Midge furrows her brow. “You have three songs? You mean you wrote them? How long have you been in here?” Maybe they put her in this cell because it’s the long term one and they won’t let Susie bail her out. Is she going to be stuck here for weeks?
She sighs, trying to push down her anxiety. “Usually it’s because I say something on stage that someone doesn’t like and they call the cops on me, despite the fact that I have a First Amendment right to free speech.” The last bit is directed to the officer near the holding cell, who is doing a spectacular job of ignoring her. “Tonight, they raided the club I was working at and I got rounded up, despite not working.”
A beat. “I mean, I was working. I just wasn’t doing what the other girls were doing.”
Another beat. “I don’t mean they were working. There’s no sex. None of it is strictly illegal. People just can’t mind their own business.”
Jaskier wrinkles his nose at the idea that he's been here long enough to write three songs about these pigs. Although part of him wonders if one day, Geralt or Yennefer will let him spend the night in jail just to teach him a lesson. He wouldn't put it past them.
"Yes, I wrote them, but not here! I meant from previous 'rodeos'." He's still not sure what a rodeo actually is, but he got the twist of the metaphor. "Law enforcement is the same everywhere." Wanting to both prove himself and impress her, he glances at the guard and starts singing. "♫ You think you're a god, please! You're a codpiece, now suck this D--" He keeps the D note for a few seconds in perfect pitch before ending it with "-Natural. ♫"
"Don't make me muzzle you, bard."
Jaskier rolls his eyes, the strong sarcasm returning. "Perfect service as usual."
His body language completely changes when the lovely lady touches on subjects dear to Jaskier's heart: the stage, opening your mouth to say too much against society's expectations, and censorship. His whole body tenses as he frowns.
"You're a performer?"
Things get worse as the description continues. 'Working girls' usually mean prostitution, but this lady clarifies there's no sex actually happening. The way she vaguely talks about the place implies something dirty, though. A raid. Working girls. But this one doesn't work, not 'like that'...
Then it hits him. He remembers some of the girls he slept with telling him about a lovely comedian who supports them instead of judging them. Someone who brings them some laughter before having to deal with the creeps in the crowd.
"Motherfucker-- Did they raid The Wolford?" Anger clear in his face and the way he stomps, Jaskier rushes to the bars and grabs them with white knuckles as he calls the names of a few of the girls he knows. He can hear some female voices responding, but he can't understand what they're saying. It seems they're in the last cells at the end of the corridor. Fuck.
He turns to his cellmate with worry written in his blue eyes. "Are they okay? Are you okay?"
Midge raises her eyebrows when he starts to sing, but a little smile of amusement plays at her lips. He has a nice voice and his lyrics are, admittedly, funny. Of course, the officer with no sense of humor doesn’t find it amusing.
“You’re a bard?” she asks. “I didn’t think we had bards anymore.” Kind of old-fashioned, but not unheard of anymore, at least when it comes to singing about the feats of the magical folks.
His outrage is surprising at first, but then Midge has a revelation. “Oh, now I recognize you,” she says. “I’ve seen you around. Backstage.” If he’s seen one of her sets during the show, he didn’t recognize her here. “I think we’re all okay. Just annoyed.” Maybe she’s speaking for herself.
“Why are you here?” He clearly wasn’t at the club tonight if he didn’t know about the raid.
"And you're the comedian." His voice is softer this time, less flirty. Just a fellow artist who understands what she's going through and wants to connect. "The girls spoke highly of you."
He sighs with relief when he hears that everyone is fine, but he can't help staring at the corridor for a few seconds. Geralt better get here fast, because Jaskier won't be the only one he'll be bailing out tonight. Yennefer has sold enough potions and charms, he thinks, to cover the money needed for all the girls. And if not, well... he'll find a way.
"Allow me to start over." He bows for her with all the flourish of someone who has sung at many courts. "Jaskier of Oxenfurt. Bard, musician, poet, chronicler - and not from this world." Which explains why he is a bard in a world that doesn't have many.
If she works at The Wolford and has been censored for talking too much, he thinks she won't be a very judgmental person and won't mind the otherworlders. But one can never know for certain, so he waits a second to be sure she's fine with this before continuing.
"As for why I am here..." A shrug. "Heckler didn't like my song. I told him exactly where he could insert his opinion."
That's a huge simplification of what actually happened but hey, he has a silver tongue for a reason.
It’s actually not that surprising to her when Jaskier tells her he’s an Otherworlder. Ever since the magician-scientists here discovered that they could open up portals to other worlds during the war, people have been arriving randomly every now and then. They still can’t control it, and people here still can’t get one to stay open long enough for them to travel to different worlds. It’s a one way trip to Earth, basically. She hopes this guy is happy here, because there’s no going back, at least not right now.
Of course, people and creatures arriving from other worlds with no regulation is a huge national security risk. Usually, Otherworlders are detained and questioned, if they’re caught. Midge guesses that this guy and whoever came with him must have passed inspection, otherwise he might not be so open with her about him being an Otherworlder.
Personally, she’s fine with Otherworlders being here, as long as they’re living their lives and not trying to kill people or take over.
“Midge Maisel. Of the Upper West Side,” she replies. “Nice to meet you. Oh, I’ve done that before.”
Hecklers are part of the gig. Midge has to be able to handle them.
“I guess you haven’t seen my part of the show?” she asks. “Most men are just waiting for me to get off stage anyway.”
His brain immediately stops at the surname, but then he internally kicks himself - everyone has surnames here, no matter their social status. It was quite a shock to learn of this when he arrived, one of the many things he's had to get used to. He's proud of himself for already mentally doing the correction after a few months.
"Lady Midge. A pleasure." Since it seems they're on friendly grounds now, he dares to grab her hand to kiss it. Then he sits on the same bench as her, but makes sure to leave some room between them. Friendly grounds, sure, but he isn't pushing too far yet. Can't have her getting uncomfortable.
He laughs at her comment, but he also shakes his head. Audiences can be so frustrating and ungrateful. Fuckers.
"Many a man don't understand that beauty comes in all forms." He leans back against the wall, stretching his legs in the process. "To be fair, I haven't watched the girls 'dance' either," he adds while gesturing the quotation marks. "There's a reason you've seen me backstage: I've been hunting for work. The prosperous career I had at home doesn't exist here, not yet anyway. It's like I'm eighteen again, hunting for a stage that will have me."
Midge raises a quizzical eyebrow at him when he calls her ‘Lady Midge’. She allows him to kiss her hand and only betrays a little smirk at her amusement. He’s laying it on really thick, but it’s kind of endearing. Maybe women really respond to this kind of thing where he comes from.
Of course he sits down next to her. Was that whole thing an elaborate show to conveniently move to her side of the cell? Jaskier keeps out of her personal space though, which she appreciates. He’s not unattractive, but they’re in probably the least sexy place imaginable.
“They’re actually really good,” Midge tells him. “Some of them can do some really incredible stuff. They just happen to do it with their tops off.” That’s the sticking point for many a conservative. “I know the feeling. I’ve been doing this for about two years and it still feels like an uphill battle sometimes.”
He laughs again, this time at her comment about the tops. When he realizes how many little amusing comments she's thrown so far, he regrets not having watched her act before. If this is her talking casually, she must be a blast on the stage.
"Oh, they're definitely very talented," he responds with just enough innuendo to make it sound teasing but not crossing the line into pushing too far. Midge hasn't moved away from him or cleaned her hand, so it's a good start. Jaskier isn't sure how much the girls have talked about the -ahem- extracurricular activities they do with him, so better keep it at that.
He nods at the mention of a battle, eyes staring at the ceiling as he remembers the early days of camping with a grumpy witcher who only said one word every four hours. "A battle against other artists, the audience, stage owners, the critics, the law, society's expectations, creativity, and even yourself. Not exactly a fair fight, now is it?"
When he looks down again, he can't help staring at her for a few seconds, curiosity written in his eyes. "It's brave of you to stick to The Wolford, however. Many a person would be afraid of what it could do to their reputation. I respect that."
She picks up what he’s putting down about their talent. Midge hasn’t asked any of the girls about him, but she recalls them being friendly with him and happy to see him. It’s not like he forced himself upon them or anything like that. He would have been banned from the club if that were the case.
Now her curiosity is piqued. She’s going to ask around about him.
“Sounds familiar.” Midge tucks her legs underneath her and leans back against the wall. She’s calmed down now and she’s feeling more comfortable.
Her gaze turns to meet his and she finds that his blue eyes are very penetrating. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. It’s a job. A regular one. I know I have a reliable place to test out my material several nights a week.” Midge shrugs. “I guess it can’t really ruin my reputation if I don’t have much of one yet. Besides, they know I don’t hold back with what I say.”
"And I respect that too." He puts a hand on his chest and raises his voice a little, obviously teasing with extra dramatics. "A woman with opinions! Oh, the slander! The scandal!"
He needs to introduce this lady to Yennefer, he realizes. Watch them be feisty at bigoted men together would be very entertaining. Maybe Ciri too, she needs more influences like this in her life. Unlike her adoptive parents, Midge actually expresses emotions and has a sense of humor. Kinda low bar, ain't it?
His eyes meet hers and he offers a little smile, making sure he shows how much he's enjoying this conversation.
"I shall be honest as well, then. I used to hold back some stuff. Respect doesn't make history, I told my best friend." Gosh, when was that? A little over two decades ago. Probably a blink in Geralt's centennial eyes. "And it did open doors. But here is the thing, my lady - even with a growing reputation, with many a court under my lovely peacock wings... I still couldn't say what I wanted. So fuck that shit."
After glancing at the guard again, he sings a little from another one of his prison songs. "♫ Sometimes it takes a prison cell, the tricks and tales that traitors tell, to help you see that freedom is all you've got. ♫"
“It’s a great big scandal if you ask some people,” she says. Jaskier is a natural performer. Perhaps a tad overdramatic, but she imagines that plays well on stage. Does he give everyone the sort of attention that he’s giving her right now? It’s almost seductive. Midge doesn’t want to get sucked in.
His swear-filled declaration and bursting into song manage to earn him a genuine smile from her.
“You know,” she says, her tone playful. “It might be your clothes.”
And what a beautiful smile it is! Jaskier smiles to himself as well, proud of getting such a reaction from her. But his face immediately transforms when she comments on his clothes. The gasp is definitely overdramatic, but also real.
"My clothes!" The hand returns to his chest - what a scandal indeed. "To think I complimented yours the second you walked in! I'm hurt, my lady. Hurt, I say!" Alright, that last part is exaggerated. But he's gonna pout anyway.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she continues. “They’re very nice.” All brocade and silk. “But you’ve probably noticed that people don’t really dress like that here. You’re about 400 years out of fashion.”
Midge shrugs. “I’m not saying that you look bad, but it’s very obvious that you’re an Otherworlder, and some people are very biased against Otherworlders.”
What started as a teasing joke has turned into actual advice. Blending in a bit more might help his burgeoning career.
She likes how he looks, and that definitely counts as a triumph. But his inner glee is short-lived - Jaskier wrinkles his nose when Midge says he's out of fashion. If this was home, he'd take out the dramatics again - he's always on top of the trends. Sometimes he even starts the trends! In this context, however...
"They work when I'm doing the bardic act," he tries to justify, but he knows it's a lost battle. A defeated sigh escapes his lips. "I hate this. I'm supposed to understand fashion!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration. "There's been so much to catch up on since we've arrived. I picked up new instruments and I've been studying the local music- have you heard all the different music genres they have here? It's absolutely insane!"
To be fair, he loves the variety of art that populates this world. It's refreshing, but also overwhelming. Another thing that is making him feel like a teenager again.
Jaskier gives Midge a new look over, this time less flirty and more admiring the fabrics. "You do understand fashion. Would you consider advising this humble bard? I'm willing to pay for your service."
“The closest thing we have to a bard is Bob Dylan*,” she tells him. “You should listen to one of his records.”
Midge can sympathize with Jaskier. If she was sent to a world where the fashion was very different from what she was used to, it would be frustrating for her too.
Midge smooths down her dress when he compliments her, then gives a short laugh. “I don’t think there’s anything humble about you.”
Standing up, she hums in her throat and gives his body a once over under the guise of determining if he’s able to be helped or not. Really, she’s checking him out just a little. He’s quite tall, much taller than her, which she has no problem with. His build is nice. The hair is a bit long for her usual taste, but the stubble actually looks good on him. His eyes are probably his best feature, a clear light blue. She sneaks a look at his hands too. Hands are important on a man. His are calloused, probably from playing string instruments, but the fingers taper nicely.
“Alright,” Midge says finally, “I’ll help you.”
She doesn’t need to be paid for it, but she’s not going to tell him that yet.
[ *It’s slightly too early for Dylan but we do what we want anyway. ]
"Bob Dylan..." he repeats as he gets lost in thought for a second. "I think I heard his songs. I'm still learning what belongs to whom. There was this bloke- Presley, was it? I like him." He likes how he shakes his hips, he means. Jaskier tries to imitate Elvis' voice when he sing-songs- "You come along with me and put your mind at ease, hey~"
She isn't the first one to call him out for the whole 'humble bard' bit, so he just smiles as innocently as he can. That smile turns into a grin when he realizes what she's doing. Always hungry for attention, Jaskier stands up and takes off his long jacket before moving in a circle to show off. His sleeves are puffy and both his chemise and his vest are decorated with flowers. There are rings on his fingers and the chain around his neck has a small tuning fork. Those lovely cornflower blues of his have some kohl on them, the only make-up he's ever dared to wear back in his world.
He's tempted to ask like what you see?, but for once he keeps it to himself - he's seriously asking for her help here, the flirting can return later. When she agrees to help, he beams with the brightest smile and bows with a hand over his heart.
"My greatest gratitude--"
Before he can say more, the officer hits the bars with his baton before opening the cell. "Bard! You're out." And he sounds quite relieved about it.
Mischievous grin back in place, Jaskier grabs his jacket before winking at Midge. "I'll be right back." A strange thing to say while being bailed out. Ominous, if you will.
A few minutes later, Midge and the rest of the girls are being bailed out, too. Outside, they'll find Jaskier chatting with Geralt, and both of them are leaning against the witcher's motorcycle.
When she finds herself released a few minutes after Jaskier leaves, Midge realizes what he meant when he said he’d be right back. It was extremely kind of him to pay bail for her and the rest of the girls. She will pay him back, of course.
Midge grabs her things from booking and manages to leave the precinct without saying something that would get her re-arrested. When she catches sight of Jaskier and the other man with him, she nearly stops in her tracks.
The other man is even taller than Jaskier with a broad chest, cheekbones to die for, and long silver-white hair. Forget what she said earlier about preferring men with short hair. She obviously didn’t know what she was talking about.
Maybe the other girls have met this guy before, because they’re not swarming him. Maybe they all went blind in jail. Either way, Midge is not going to let an opportunity pass her by. She saunters up to Jaskier and his handsome friend, a grin on her face.
“Is this the hero we have to thank for bailing us out?” she asks sweetly. Up close, Midge can see that his eyes are an almost unearthly golden color. It only adds to his mystique.
The girls have heard enough stories from Jaskier to know about Geralt... but that also means they heard about Yennefer, so they know better than to try anything. They thank Jaskier with a kiss on the cheek and promise to see him around before they leave.
Seeing women getting their underwear wet over Geralt has been happening a lot in this world and is still quite a novelty. It wasn't impossible back home, but the few times it happened, they would change their minds when they realized that Geralt was a witcher. Jaskier working on his reputation did help a bit, and for years, he tried getting dates for his friend too. He always wanted Geralt to be happy, even if it wasn't with him.
No, women falling from Geralt has never bothered him. Jaskier encouraged it even (well, except for Yennefer, but that's a different story). How could he blame them when he felt the same? However, this is the first time that said woman has been on Jaskier's radar first. Love triangles among best friends are as old as humanity itself, so he guesses that this happening for the first time in a little over two decades of friendship is a small mercy.
Midge isn't being subtle, but if there was any doubt, Geralt's nose does that thing where it smells someone's hormones and he smirks at Jaskier, reaching the same conclusion. Jaskier rolls his eyes and mumbles I hate you before stepping away from the bike to meet his cellmate.
Her comment makes him snort. "He brought the wallet, but I was the mastermind. Shall we call it teamwork?" Annoyed as he may be, he wants things to proceed smoothly, so his hands begin gesturing dramatically to indicate his old and (hopefully) new friend. "Midge, this is Geralt. Geralt, this is Midge. Would you at least pretend that you picked up any manners from me?"
Geralt simply nods at Midge, and Jaskier rolls his eyes. One would think he was used to this by now.
"Don't take it personally, he's like that with everyone. Even his wife." A frowning Geralt playfully kicks the back of Jaskier's leg, and Jaskier chuckles, rather pleased with himself. The happy couple has been protesting over being called husband and wife since they've arrived, but Jaskier finds it easier than explaining the whole djinn situation. It's also helped with all the paperwork regarding Cirilla in this world, which is why they only half scold the bard for it.
Speaking of papers - Jaskier takes out a little paper from his pocket, which clearly was torn off from a notebook just a moment ago. He hands it to Midge, and when she unfolds it, she'll find his phone number with his name, which has a little buttercup drawn next to it. His penmanship is exquisite.
"If your offer was sincere, then - we can keep in contact, arrange a little shopping trip?"
Midge has no idea what a witcher is, but it could mean that he can turn into a cockroach and Midge would still find Geralt hot. She wouldn’t consider herself thirsty, but an attractive man is an attractive man.
“Very kind of you,” she replies to Jaskier’s comment about being the mastermind, though she’s looking at Geralt. After being introduced, Midge offers Geralt her hand, hoping that she will get a kiss on the back of it like she got from Jaskier.
Hearing that he has a wife is ultimately not that surprising, but it still feels like someone has popped her balloon. That someone is Jaskier. Midge eyes him, wondering if he’s telling the truth, but Geralt isn’t disputing it. He’s not saying much of anything. The strong, silent type are nice to look at, but Midge does like a bit of banter.
So much for that.
She’s a little annoyed at Jaskier for raining on her parade, but she takes the note with his number on it and puts it in her purse. She gestures for his notebook and pen and writes her name and number on a clean page.
“We can go to B Altman. The girls there will still let me use their employee discount.”
he never is lol also laughing so hard at Midge trying to go for a hand kiss (poem by Raj Arumugam)
Dropping the wife bomb was a move to annoy Geralt, rain on Midge's parade, and save her from Yennefer's wrath. Jaskier thinks he's a mastermind indeed for pulling that triple threat with just one word.
He's a little nervous about handing her his notebook, and even Geralt raises his eyebrows in surprise. Jaskier never lets anyone look at his lyrics while he's still working on them. But oh well, this technically counts as an emergency, and Midge has enough manners not to look at the other pages.
"Sounds perfect! I shall write tomorrow then." He bows as a way to say goodbye. "Good night, my witty lady."
Both men then get on the bike, and Jaskier gets a helmet from Geralt while complaining about what it does to his hair. Before Geralt puts on his, he turns to Midge and talks in that growl of his.
"He's allergic to peaches. If he gets too annoying, just shove one down his throat."
"HEY!" The rest of Jaskier's protests are lost in the wind as Geralt finally takes off.
The next day, around lunchtime, a text with a poem arrives on Midge's phone.
Laugh a day Laugh it now Laugh as loud as you want; It shakes up your body lets good things flow through your veins; Don’t think about it just laugh a minute or laugh a day Laugh long as laugh-time
It’s the same thing with her comedy notebook. Midge guards that with her life.
“Goodnight,” she says, and then, sincerely: “Thank you.”
Admittedly, she’s still watching Geralt as he and Jaskier get on the bike. Wife or not, watching Geralt straddle something is doing things to her. She hadn’t noticed his thighs at first. He could crush watermelons with those things.
The raspy sound of his voice takes her aback, but what he says draws a grin from her. She watches as they ride off, then waits for Susie to come pick her up.
She’s sitting in the park the next day when she gets the text. A smile forms on her lips while reading it.
Did you write that?
she's not completely wrong, sadly Geralt doesn't do court manners
Jaskier is still at home in his pajamas, raiding the fridge (such a wondrous invention!) while his family is out. Midge responds quite quickly, and he has to smile around his fork. The thank you had sounded sincere, but he couldn't be sure if she was annoyed for his stunt with Geralt('s wife). It seems he's made a good impression after all.
She was kind of annoyed, but she guesses that Jaskier’s motivation around telling her that Geralt is married is because he’s interested in her himself. Midge imagines that it’s tough having a friend who looks like that and it’s easy for the bard to get over looked. She’s choosing to see his very convenient mention of Geralt’s wife as flattering to her rather than selfish on his part.
I do. Midge wonders if he wrote it for her or if it’s something he already had in his notebook. I’m free tomorrow if you’d like to go to the store for your modern makeover.
That will also give her time to ask the girls about him tonight when she’s at the club.
"Fuck yeah!" he tells the empty room when she admits liking the poem. He wrote it quickly earlier just to send her something related to her art and he can already see fifty problems with it, but it's served its purpose.
Tomorrow works for me. Send me the address and we can meet there for lunch, mayhap? You could introduce me to your favorite restaurant.
I believe you already know the answer to that question.
The reply takes a few minutes to arrive. He's still learning to type, but the fact that she already said yes has filled him with glee, and he's making more typos than usual. He'd thought he'd have to beg more.
That works as well. And make-up is something you can also educate me on. Although I've already learned that men here don't wear it, same as my home world. I've worn kohl during performances, which has been risky enough. All those creams, though! They sound like something I'd adore on my skin, especially after being on windy or dry roads. I shall be your canvas, if you'll have me.
She did say yes, didn’t she? Well, it’s lunch. Midge figures that can’t hurt. She has some concerns about how many of the girls at the club he’s apparently been with and if he thinks he’s going to try to sweet talk her into his bed.
No, most men don’t wear makeup here. You can probably get away with eyeliner on stage, since it’s part of the performance. The creams are very nice though. More men should use them.
I’ll do my best to be the Henry Higgins to your Eliza Dolittle.
More men should take better care of their looks in general.
It irritates him how it's seen as a feminine trait. He likes looking good, and the world would be much happier if everyone looked good.
The next reply also takes a bit to arrive because he's looking up the names as she suggested. As soon as he reads the premise of the play, he bursts out laughing. There's a triple irony here: it kinda matches the hype-man part of his relationship with Geralt, and it makes for a funny twist to think of him as the vulgar one needing education, considering his noble background. And for the third thing--
A flower girl for the man named Buttercup. What a fitting choice on your part.
Obviously, she doesn't know what "jaskier" means, but it's the perfect chance to tease a little.
She doesn't mock him for it, which continues to prove how open-minded she is. He can't wait to hear all the things she has to complain about during her act.
Indeed. A beautiful yet poisonous flower. Perfect name for a handsome poet with a silver tongue. Do you know what "Midge" means?
It's his turn to squint at the screen as he wonders if she's flirting back or setting up a bit of a trap to mess with him. As convenient as he finds these devices, the lack of tone and body language can sometimes make it hard to understand the messages.
Would you want me to?
The fly thing - it has to be a joke, right? Judging by the message that follows, it seems it isn't. Jaskier stares with an open mouth and realizes it'll be hard to tease Geralt for calling all his horses "roach" after this much worse naming idea.
Miriam is a lovely name. Yet you prefer Midge, regardless of its foul meaning?
As bold as Midge can be in person, there’s something about sending messages that makes a person feel even more brave. Maybe it’s because you don’t actually have to see the other person or their reaction.
Maybe. If you can convince me.
She is flirting back because, well, why not? He’s not a bad-looking guy. It’s flattering, being hit on.
I do. I picked it in high school because Miriam seems so formal and old-sounding. It’s a real nickname, despite what a midge is.
I’ve been told that Miriam means “beloved” or “wished for child”, but I’ve also been told that it means “bitter”. Take your pick.
Jaskier throws his arms in the air to celebrate, the only thing stopping him from expressing his excitement with a dirty word again being the chunk of banana in his mouth.
My witty lady has granted me a mission, one I shall take gladly. Now I can speak freely of that lovely skirt of yours and how I picture myself crawling under it.
A 'high' school - that's Cirilla's age, if Jaskier remembers correctly. So she picked her name (or well, nickname) and did it when she was a teen - another thing they have in common.
I shall not take any pick - it's your name, therefore your pick to take. And if you like Midge, then Midge I'll call you. It's a cute nickname, for the record, fitting for a cute face. The meaning took me by surprise, but I understand why young Miriam chose it.
Be right back, choking on the banana as he laughs at her reaction.
Those are rather judgmental words coming from the woman who was ready to mount my best friend outside the police station. How did you know that you wanted him to kiss your hand?
Two can play this game, missy.
Young Mirian was right, it matters not. Your name is part of who you are, it's what represents you in the outside world - it must be what feels right, Margaret be damned.
You have. I invited you not to be. But I am still a lady.
She wants him to remember that, despite whatever happens between them.
He didn’t seem interested anyway, but at least now she doesn’t have a reason to turn me into a toad.
Why did you pick Buttercup?
Maybe it’s not feminine to be named after flowers where he comes from. Still, he didn’t make fun of her for the fact that her nickname is a type of fly, so she won’t make fun of him for Buttercup.
Well, at least not maliciously. Teasing is never off the table with her.
Indeed you are. A lady with plenty of wit and things to say, things I want to listen to and things that make me laugh. So I assure you that my initial lustful reaction has already grown into enjoying chatting with you. If my flirtations don't take us anywhere, I'll still be happy to have gained a new artist friend.
And that's sincere of him. He already wants to watch her on stage, but he knows that if he goes tonight, it'll be too much, considering their date tomorrow. (Is it a date anyway?)
Hey, I meant it yesterday when I said you shouldn't take his attitude personally. He's not used to being flirted with, and he was trained not to express any wants. Take it from me when I say he didn't find you unattractive.
Ah, what I explained before wasn't mere poetry - those were my reasons. The dichotomy of poison hiding behind such beauty, which I believe represents the power of words. You're a woman of many a word too - don't you agree with my conclusion?
That makes her smile. If he’s being genuine. It’s hard to tell via text whether he genuinely wants to spend time with her or if he’s just saying that in order to get under her skirt.
You two talked about me?
I do. Should I be worried about your poison, Buttercup?
That would depend on your definition of "talking", since when it comes to Geralt, that usually implies me doing all the rambling and him doing all the grunting. And that was the case last night, as usual. I told the story of what happened, and when I asked "she's pretty, isn't she?", he did his agreeing hum. That said, I could've already told you last night that you weren't the problem. I've known him for years, I can read him like a book.
But even after all those years, it still feels weird to chat about his relationship with Geralt with someone he's trying to bed. Two different corners of his heart that could be awkward if they met.
Midge calls him Buttercup, and Jaskier chuckles, the smile on his lips soft and genuine. She's adorable, and his fondness is growing by the second.
Only if you plan to hurt me or my family. Should I be worried about your comedy, Lady Vampire?
A little joke refering to the "blood sucking" part of the fly that names her.
Midge knows that she’s pretty, but she tries not to use it for personal gain. She tries even harder to never use it for professional gain. If she makes it in this industry, she wants it to be on her talent, not because she slept with someone.
Only if you have no sense of humor.
I write bits about the people I know, but I think it’s pretty early in our friendship for you to be the subject of one yet.
You’ll have to wait if you want me to suck you dry.
Bits about people she knows, huh? Now he's even more eager to see her act, curious about the juicy gossip. He throws his head back to laugh at the innuendo, delighted to see her play along.
As someone who writes songs about personal experiences, I can respect that. I want to joke about who may make it to each other's art first, but I suppose I'm already at a disadvantage considering the little poem I opened this conversation with.
And yet you've already trapped me in your thrall. Promises, promises.
Way to hurt me with that compliment! Who is being the poisonous flower now?
Her next words make a good point, one that Jaskier's friends have provided before. He enjoys banter as well, so everyone has always been confused by his relationship with Geralt. He wonders if sex and romance would've killed it, and his stomach turns. Better not let his thoughts wander down that road. It's in the past, even if a piece of his heart will never move on.
I've been told I don't know when to shut up, so you've met your match.
An elf-owned bar on Friday night, and the possibility of a little something on Saturday that is waiting for confirmation.
Geralt doesn’t even seem real. It’s not really fair, is it?
What he ought to do is help bring the women in to you. Some men do that for their friends.
Maybe I have met my match.
Midge has been enjoying their conversation. He’s a little less dramatic than he was last night and more down to earth. Verbal sparring is fun, but eventually she wants to see who a person really is.
Oh, I haven’t been to Elftown in a while. I have a gig Friday night… but Saturday would work, if your show happens.
No, it's not fair, not at all - which Jaskier has known since he was eighteen. He can't help pacing around the room, still trying to get used to the idea of people actually liking Geralt just from a first impression. It's good, don't take him wrong - great even. It's what he's been fighting for all these years, and one of the many reasons they don't want to return to their world. But it's also scratching too close to his own feelings, which gets on his nerves.
That idea of Geralt being a wingman, however, is quite amusing.
I'm perfectly capable of getting my own lovers, thank you very much. Besides, you've already seen his demeanor. Not exactly a social bloke.
She's been to Elftown and appears to feel positive about it, which continues to speak well of her open-mindedness. Saturday, however, is a queer bar, and Jaskier wonders if it's wise to drop that bomb now. It's really flattering to see her so interested in her performance, and he does want her to come...
Well, if she has a problem with his identity, then maybe it's better to get it out of the way early than have a bigger heartache later. Since obviously she's becoming less of a one-night stand by the second.
Midge knows that she’s teasing him, but she doesn’t realize that she’s poking at any actual emotions that Jaskier might feel for Geralt.
I believe you. You’re very charming.
Better to give him an actual compliment and leave it at that.
Hearing that he would be performing at Rainbow Road takes her aback. She’s heard of the bar, though hasn’t ever been there, of course. Artists, as she’s learned, are rather free-wheeling and accepting, and she supposes that performing at a gay bar wouldn’t be unheard of for someone like him.
I’d come, unless you wouldn’t want me there.
what if he gets her on stage on Saturday after his performance
That... sure is a polite response. He wonders if she got the implication and is accepting, or just thinks he's there for the gig. Once again, he's frustrated at the lack of body language. To be fair, though, she agrees to go, so obviously she isn't bothered by the idea of his people. That works for now.
I'll let you know as soon as I hear from them. What about you? I'm dying to hear your act, too. Is The Wolford your only gig?
she’d come up with something on the fly, as she does
It’s confusing. Jaskier was coming on very strongly to her - still is. It wouldn’t make sense to her if he was gay. Not that gay people haven’t hidden themselves by being with people of the opposite sex. She’s well familiar with that. That doesn’t seem to be the case here though.
Maybe she can learn more after she talks to the girls at the club.
I’m at The Wolford tonight and tomorrow, and then Friday’s at a jazz club in Midtown. If you want to come to that one, I’ll send you the address.
Jazz is music, I've learned that much. So I like that option! Send me the address and your timeslot and I'll try to work it out around my own gig.
After they exchange information, he forces himself to say goodbye. He's loving their chat and is hungry for more, but he's gotta start his day at some point and she probably has things to do too.
The next day, he shows up at the mall just two minutes late. This time, the kohl and his hat stayed home, but his long jacket and the rings are still on. The light green shirt and dress pants were clearly bought here, so at least he's not using his bardic assembly every day. He may still be learning the local fashion, but he isn't a monster. His lute hangs on his back, too used to her comforting presence to leave without her.
Jaskier beams as soon as he sees Midge waiting for him. "My witty lady! What a delight it is to see you." He does a quick bow to say hi. "What shall it be first? Food or fabrics? I'm putting myself in your hands here." He winks to indicate he wants her hands in more ways than one.
Midge is wearing a very Midge outfit, color-coordinated down to her hat, purse, shoes and jewelry. Jaskier is wearing… a lute. Fortunately, New Yorkers have seen everything and he’s not getting any weird stares.
Last night, she had asked some of the girls at the club about Jaskier and gotten some surprising answers. The ones who admitted to sleeping with him gave excellent reviews of his performance. One of them said he was overdramatic (obviously). Another said he sang too much. A third told her to talk to Brandon, one of the bartenders. And that was how Midge learned that Jaskier has slept with men. Apparently he likes both. Midge knew that people like that existed, but she has never met one, never been interested in one before. Regardless if his lovers were male or female, annoyed with him or maybe still a little bit in love with him, all of them said, without exception, that he was a fantastic lover.
It gives Midge a lot to think about. She’s not sure if she understands liking both men and women. The gay bar makes sense now though.
She grins when she sees him and assesses the rest of his outfit. “I’d say you’re about halfway there with your clothes,” Midge tells him. “Fabrics first, since you’re itching to get your hands on something.”
They enter the department store. “The men’s department is on the second floor,” she says as they head towards the escalator. “One of my friends who works up there has promised that she can get us a private fitting area.”
"Why, thank you." Jaskier wasn't expecting that compliment. He doesn't think he looks bad, per se, but he knows these aren't precisely great. "I hope the other halfway is finding something less boring. Men seem to be allergic to patterns and colors in this world."
It's been quite surprising, because in any other aspect, this world is the more progressive one. At home, even male doublets have colors, textures, and embroidery. Here he keeps seeing guys wearing plain shirts and pants, always in black, brown, blue, perhaps green. So-called male colors - macho colors. Not to mention those 'suit' things. Jaskier can admit that they make almost every man look quite handsome, and those ties have certainly given him ideas, but they'll all look the same fucking same. What happened to individuality and style?
When Midge mentions getting his hands on something, he offers his bent arm, but he won't push if she doesn't wish to take it. He grins at the mention of a private fitting area and gets ready to throw a comment full of innuendo, but his brain goes blank when they approach the escalator. It's not the first time he sees one, but they're still quite a sight.
"If I ask you a question, do you promise to only mock me after giving me the real answer?" He does get on the escalator next to her without much trouble, but he can't stop poking at the step with the tip of his boot. "Have these things ever killed anyone?"
He’s probably not going to be thrilled with the selection that B Altman has to offer. They tend to have a lot of the muted colors and patterns that are in style but he finds boring. Maybe they can find something to compromise with that fits his tastes and also looks like it was made this century.
Midge puts her hand in the crook of his arm. Ever the gentleman. When they step on the escalator and Jaskier asks his question, Midge bites the inside of her cheek in order to keep a straight face.
“Oh, yes,” she replies. “One time when I was working at the makeup counter I saw someone wearing a long coat get the coat caught between the steps. He couldn’t get it out and when he reached the top - zhhhhipp. Pulled him right into the mechanism.”
At the horrified look on Jaskier’s face, Midge bursts into laughter. “It’s safe, I promise.” They reach the top and step off with no issues.
Right at the top of the escalator, as if someone had placed it there just for Midge, is a beautiful red dress on a mannequin.
“Oh my God,” she breathes and drops Jaskier’s arm to investigate. “It’s gorgeous. And it’s a Dior?” She looks through the rack behind the mannequin to find her size.
Why did she bring him here? This is so dangerous for her bank account.
Midge doesn't mind touching him - it's just good manners and rather neutral, but still. He sees it as a good sign that all his flirting and innuendos on text have truly been well received; it hasn't creeped her out or anything like that.
The tapping boot instantly stops as she starts describing the incident. Jaskier's face becomes a bit white and his eyes widen. Thankfully, before he can ask any more questions, Midge reveals her trick. Jaskier pouts, but it's hard to stay mad at her when she has such a bright, beautiful laugh.
"As safe as someone accidentally putting monster guts in one of your cute hats?" He's just teasing, he'd never do that (to her).
The second floor is a full market of clothes, and Jaskier doesn't know where to start looking. He wants to search every corner and touch every fabric, although part of him wonders if he'll get too frustrated at the male options to go for too long.
"That is gorgeous," he agrees as he smiles at her excitement. It's fun to have someone as enthusiastic as he is when it comes to fashion. Jaskier follows her to the racks and his eyes quickly fall on a particular ensemble.
"Are these only for adult women?" he asks as he grabs this lovely pink piece. "Or would this be adequate for a fifteen-year-old girl?"
“Not if you don’t want me to hide your lute, bard,” Midge teases back. Don’t try her though, Jaskier. She’s serious about her clothes.
Midge holds the dress (which, she discovers, is actually a very dark pink) up to her body. She loves it already. She’s not even going to look at the price tag. Provided it fits well, it’s coming home with her.
She looks at what Jaskier is holding up and is briefly worried that he’s thinking of it for himself. She breathes a sigh of relief when he mentions a fifteen-year-old girl.
“Yes,” she replies. “She will probably fit into ladies’ sizes, though there’s a junior miss section too. It’s appropriate for a girl.”
She speaks as the mother of a girl, one whom she imagines will be an absolute terror when she’s fifteen.
Since Midge says these are appropriate, Jaskier takes a new look at the rack while absorbing all the things she's saying. The dresses, at least, don't seem to be that much different from Yennefer's, although he doesn't dare to buy for her. He may choose something from the makeup section for her later. No other dress beats the pink one, at least not in a way that would fit Ciri nicely, so Jaskier gently hangs his first choice on his arm.
"This one shall come home then. Thank you." He then admires the way Midge holds the dark pink dress against and whistles to show his appreciation. "It looks like you've found your look for Friday. Unless jazz requires something else I'm not aware of?" A glance at her feet. "That is, if you can dance in those. I still can barely believe the height of the heels around here."
Midge nearly gets distracted by a blue day dress, then snaps herself out of it. “No. We need to go to the men’s department.” Now she’s the one grabbing Jaskier’s arm and dragging him in that direction. They’re here for him, not for her to buy clothes that she doesn’t need (but will look great in).
“I usually wear black on stage, but I can make an exception.” Why not? It’s a dark color at least. “I can dance in heels. Why do you ask?”
The men’s department isn’t as colorful or exciting as the women’s department, though they are in luck that it’s spring/summer. The colors are lighter and more interesting than they would be for fall/winter. “Okay… does anything catch your interest?” she asks as she starts to look for clothing suggestions for him.
Jaskier is usually the one doing the dragging, so her gesture is more than welcome. Women taking charge in general is something he appreciates (and that's putting it nicely - the right wording would be that powerful women make him horny).
"Oh gods, not another black soul!" No wonder she liked Geralt. "I'm trying to save my niece from that, you can't do this to me, too!" It still feels funny to call Ciri her niece. Just like he decided to call Geralt and Yennefer husband and wife to make things easier with the paperwork, Cirilla has decided that Jaskier is her uncle. He doesn't mind - he adores it, actually. But it'll be a while before he can say it without feeling those butterflies in his stomach. "Why do you mean 'why I asked'? You said it's a jazz club, and jazz is music, correct? You owe me a dance."
Indeed, the men's department isn't as exciting. Jaskier puts down his lute and the pink dress on a bench before he starts going through the racks, wrinkling his nose every time he fails to find something interesting among all the plain whites and grays.
The gasp that escapes his lips is filled with glee when he finds a very particular vest. Maybe there's hope for this place after all.
"Look--" He holds it against his chest. "It's buttercup gold."
Midge is certainly a woman who can take charge if necessary.
“On stage!” She protests. “You’re a performer. You know that what you wear has to look right to the audience and also needs to project a certain image. Trust me, Susie has worked hard on this. She’s going to grumble about the pink dress.” But she’ll get over it. Midge will still give off that frustrated housewife image that is the cornerstone of her routines.
“Why is it that I owe you a dance?” She asks, not recalling being a part of any earlier conversation where she agreed to that.
Midge nods at what he picks out. “Yes, but that’s really formal. Men don’t wear vests with brocade to go to the hardware store. What about any of these?” She points to a row of casual men’s shirts. “These have some colors and patterns. Any of the blue ones will bring out your eyes.”
Not that he needs to do much. His eyes are striking all on their own.
"Yes, I know that, and that's why I know black isn't a happy color! It's what witchers and butchers wear to hide the bloodstains." This is the dumbest argument, and he absolutely loves it. "And Susie is...?"
It was about time she dropped a few names, too. He feels like he's dropped so much about Geralt and hasn't learned that much about her life in return.
"Because I just decided so," he responds with a teasing tone. "It'd be a crime to go to a music club and not dance. If you need an excuse, then consider it a thank-you dance for the bail."
With a sigh, he reminds himself this is exactly why he asked her for help and forces himself to check the shirts she's pointing at. "Maybe they should wear vests to the hardware store. I crossed forests and climbed mountains in doublets." And Geralt always mocked him for it. "It's unfair. How come girls get to look fancy and pretty all day long?"
He ends up picking two of the 'yoke front gabardines' and two 'sport pullovers', which are much softer to the touch than he expected. All the fabrics are of outstanding quality, he can admit that much.
His mood greatly improves when he sees these ones, sensing that he's finally getting this right. "Hey, color and patterns! Look at that, they do have them! These are casual wear, correct?"
“Susie is my manager,” Midge replies. In all fairness, Jaskier, you haven’t asked about her friends and family. He may get to meet Susie on Friday. Just imagining the two of them together is hilarious.
“Oh, you’ve decided that, have you?” She matches his playful tone. A dance is fine, though the assumption of it is forward. Jaskier clearly has no problem going after what he wants.
Pleased that he has picked out some shirts, Midge starts to look at slacks. She eyes his waist in order to estimate his size - thin, but not scrawny. Smaller than Joel. Yes, the pants will be in boring colors: black, tan. Midge picks up a navy one too, continuing the blue theme. “Most men here don’t want to look fancy and pretty,” she says, then looks at the shirts he’s indicating. “Yes, those are casual. They might be a bit warm for summer, but you can save them for fall.”
"Ah, right. They told me about those." Many bars told him to get a manager, and Jaskier isn't sure he likes the idea. He doesn't want another person managing his career. But with all the bureaucracy this world seems to have, he understands how the job came into existence. "It sounded like you really value her opinion. I take it she's been good to you so far?"
If black dresses have gotten her gigs, then Jaskier isn't sure he's allowed to complain much (but he'll do it anyway). They already talked about the uphill battle after all. At least Midge leaves the black on the stage, so that already puts her ahead of certain friends of his.
Plain pants he can deal with, since usually the tops and jackets are the stars. He does wish they came in more colors and remembers his own ensembles in gold and blue quite fondly, but it's fine. Since they've got the informal things covered and she approved of the yellow vest before, he picks an extra white dress shirt and what he needs to accessorize: a vest and cravats. It's then that he remembers the ties, which do seem to come in a variety of patterns. Maybe he should start a collection.
He grabs a purple one and hangs it around his neck before offering the tips to Midge. "Another thing for me to learn. Would you do me the honors?"
“She has,” Midge replies. “She’s the one who suggested that I could turn comedy into a career.” As ornery as Susie is, Midge likes her. She considers her a friend.
While Jaskier is busy looking at other clothing, she sneaks a navy blue suit into his pile of clothes to try on. It dawns on her that he would probably like bespoke things, but it’s easier to start with mass-produced clothing. She can find him a good tailor later.
Tying the tie brings her back to when she used to tie Joel’s ties for him. It feels like that was a lifetime ago. She tightens the knot, then pulls it up to Jaskier’s neck. “It looks better with a collared shirt,” she says. “Ready to try on clothing?”
"Then on Friday, I shall thank her for sharing you with the world."
He wasn't lying when he said he needs to learn how to do tie knots, but right now he's a little distracted. Instead of watching her hands, he looks at her eyes and smells her perfume, taking a step closer into her personal space. (Can she see the faint stretch marks on his neck left by the djinn, he wonders.) Sadly she's done too soon, but at the last second, he manages to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and winks at her before stepping back.
"The day I say no to that question, you'll know I'm dead."
Before they move, however, he stops to grab a belt for Geralt - black, thick, strong, with a simple pattern. He puts it on top of Ciri's dress so it won't get mixed with his own stuff.
Once in the private fitting area, he puts the pile of clothes on a chair and finally notices the navy blue suit. He can't help but chuckle as he glances at Midge and decides that pleasing the lady is in order. Jaskier disappears behind the curtain and changes impressively fast, a skill acquired after years of sneaking around with forbidden daughters and married women.
Leaving his feet in only socks, he comes out by sliding on the fancy floor and stops in front of Midge with open arms. The tie is in a normal knot and not a tie knot, but he can fix that later. It's not like ties need to be tried on for size. "Go ahead and gloat, you've earned it." Once again, his tone is teasing. "Please tell me I can put a brooch on this. Or do men here think that will make their cocks fall?"
She can’t, because she’s mostly concentrating on tying the tie correctly. That distracts her from Jaskier’s electric blue stare and the smell of his cologne. Midge can feel her heart rate pick up being this close to him. He manages to touch her cheek and ear when he brushes the lock of hair out of her face. There might even be a little bit of color in her cheeks at the feel of his fingers. Jeez. She’s acting like she’s 16-years-old. She’s a grown, divorced woman with two kids. A little brush of fingers isn’t supposed to make her feel this way.
Composed, Midge sits on the couch outside the stall that Jaskier has gone into and waits for him to emerge with the first outfit. A grin crosses her face when he comes out in the suit that she picked. She stands up and assesses it in a way that feels not unlike when she tries on clothes with Ethan and tugs on them to make sure that the fit is good.
“Broches are well-known to make cocks fall,” Midge says mock seriously. “But we can get you a pocket square to put here.” She sticks her fingers briefly in the jacket breast pocket, then sets about to fix his tie. “They’re usually colorful.”
Stepping back, she smiles. “It needs to be tailored a bit, but overall, it’s a good fit.” And it looks good on him. The flush in her cheeks is more prominent now and she feels a tingle roll down her stomach and settle between her legs.
Clothes tugging, pocket fingering, tie fixing - it's a lot of touching, and Jaskier basks in it. He's a touchy person in general, but obviously it's even more delightful when it includes a person he finds both interesting and stunning. Jaskier does chuckle at her joke and thinks that the pocket square isn't a bad idea, but for now, he says nothing. Just like before, he just takes a step into her personal space to pick up the scent of her perfume.
Maybe he should've saved the "brushing a strand of hair" move for now, considering they're in a private room. Before he can think of something else to do, she's stepping back. Dammit.
"Thank you. I've had a very talented advisor." Meaning her, obviously. It's then that he notices she's blushing, and his grin grows. It seems the moment is still on. "How about you try on your new dress too? Then we can make sure our colors don't clash. You know, for Friday."
Midge gives him a look. “Is this a date?” she asks innocently. “You seem to have it all planned out.” Never mind that Jaskier hasn’t actually asked her out for Friday, nor has she said yes. She’s technically working. Even if he knows she’ll say yes, it’s probably better if he doesn’t assume.
She picks up the dress and disappears into the stall next to the one where he had changed. Midge emerges a few minutes later with the new dress on. It fits perfectly and she gives Jaskier a little twirl.
“I need to think about what accessories I have that will go with this,” she muses. “There should be a pair of pumps in my closet that is nearly this color.”
if she doesn't let him do the thing, lmk and I'll edit the tag, don't wanna godmode
"Do you want it to be?" He raises his hands in a gesture of innocence, but he's grinning. "I just want my dance. But if the stage leaves you tired, I do not mind looking for another dance partner." He winks again, making sure she knows he's teasing. And flirting. Lots and lots of flirting.
While she changes, he looks for his notebook in his jacket and writes down all the things that ran through his mind when she fixed his tie (twice). When she comes out, he lets his eyes roam without shame.
"Look at you," he responds with clear awe in his voice as he puts down the notebook before approaching her. "Long and lovely stems of a rose freshly cut."
He slowly comes closer, giving her time to protest or move if she so wishes. Jaskier raises one of her hands in his, then puts his other hand on her lower back, making sure not to reach her waist to keep things playful instead of naughty.
With a spark in those blue eyes, he nods at the big mirror on the wall. "That's one pretty picture, if I may say so myself."
“Maybe you should ask,” she says from behind the curtain. Midge isn’t mad, but she also doesn’t want to be taken for granted. Even if there’s an obvious connection between them, she still needs to give her consent.
An uncontrollable smile crosses her face at his little bit of poetry. “Is this how you draw the ladies in?” she asks.
She doesn’t protest when he takes her hand and puts his arm around her. Their reflection in the mirror is indeed a nice picture. Without her heels on, Jaskier is much taller than her. Midge turns her gaze from the reflection to him, her blue eyes looking up into his.
"I put my feelings into poetry on all occasions, because that's how I like expressing myself," he clarifies. "But I won't deny it does half of the flirting for me."
With lots of pink and no heels, Midge is a gorgeous chickpea flower, and he makes a mental note to write something on that parallel. He returns the gaze without hesitation, letting a bit of desire appear in his cornflower blues. Seeing as she is okay with a bit of playful touching, he lets his nose brush hers for just a second before talking.
"Midge." They're alone but he doesn't care, he's a romantic at heart - so he lowers his voice to make it sound more intimate. Romance from him, comedy for her: "If I'm not a smelly ball of sweat when I run from my gig to yours, would you go on a date with me?"
It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask if Jaskier’s poetry brings the men in too, but Midge knows it will ruin the moment. This is a nice moment. Romance is surprisingly lacking in her life. She knows she will have to ask him eventually about sleeping with men, but now isn’t the right time.
She lets out a little gasp when his nose brushes hers. Her heart is racing in her chest now with his lips so close to hers. She tries to keep her composure.
“Thank you for asking, Jaskier,” Midge says calmly. “Yes, I will go out with you.”
That little gasp is music to his ears, and he hopes he can get many more out of her in the future. His smile shines bright when she says yes and he makes a mental note to call Elftown when they part ways later - he'll need the earliest spot possible.
"You've made this humble bard very happy today." And since they're in a waltz position, he dips her just for fun, laughing as he brings her up. "Thank you." He seals that with a kiss to her cheek, rather short but also rather sweet.
The dip gets a surprised little yelp out of her, which turns into a laugh as he brings her back up. When he goes in to kiss her, Midge thinks for a split second that he’s going to kiss her mouth, but his lips land on her cheek instead. She lets out another little sigh.
“I should… change out of this,” Midge says, a little flustered. “And… you have more to try on.”
Oh, she looks so cute flustered like that. Another thing to try to get more in the future. If they weren't having a romantic little moment right now, he would write a description of her laughter and an ode to that little sigh in his notebook.
"I suppose you're right. Let me know if you need help." He winks before finally letting go of her, which is much harder than it looks. He just wants to keep her pressed against him...
At least he gets lots of little touches again every time he tries on new clothes. She is always tugging the jackets, fixing a collar, demonstrating the tie knot - and Jaskier loves every second of it. He loves attention and fashion advice in general, obviously, but this is extra special. The barrier has been broken, so he allows himself to brush her hands and arms every chance he gets, feeling the electricity in the air between their skin. It's intoxicating.
He's a fast changer so they go through all the outfits pretty quickly, and his good mood has him happily humming through the entire experience. Lyrics come out if it's an outfit that takes a little longer.
Once everyone is confirmed to fit well, they pay and get too many bags in return. Jaskier knows Geralt won't approve of this, but Yennefer will be on his side (because she's already done the same with dresses). He's glad that they work all together to have enough money to do this kind of thing. The fact that Geralt isn't a big spender just leaves more for the bard and the witch to keep their fancy styles. (Now if Jaskier could only have enough for a piano.)
"Shall we do make-up now?" he asks with his head tilted. "It should be quick, but I wouldn't mind if you want to take a lunch break first." He knows they've been shopping for a while and those heels look like torture devices.
Now Midge knows why she’s drawn to him. Spending time with Jaskier is fun. He makes her smile, especially when he’s singing to himself, seemingly making the lyrics at the spur of the moment. Midge is looking forward to seeing him perform.
Jaskier is right; her feet are starting to hurt from the heels. “Lunch sounds good,” she says. “The lunch counter is on the first floor too.” They can stop at the makeup counter before they leave.
As they descend the escalator, Midge smiles at him. “You know… this is the most fun I’ve ever had shopping with a man. Most men hate shopping and just complain the whole time.”
How they manage to get all those bags on the escalator, Jaskier isn't sure, but he's thankful for the bulk they create because they push him and Midge close.
The fact that he's the first guy she knows who enjoys shopping and clothes isn't surprising at all. But he can't help staring at her at first, waiting for something else to come with tension on his shoulders. Usually any comments directed at his love for what is considered female interests are a way to dig at his sexuality - he's not exactly subtle, after all. He knows what people think of his dramatics and his foppishness.
However, nothing comes. Midge is being genuine with that lovely smile of hers, a smile he returns as soon as he realizes it's fine.
"Most men think their balls will shrink if they own more than two pairs of pants." His tone indicates he totally understands her frustration. Been there, done that and all. "I'm glad you had fun - so did I. Not many girls like it when there's a bloke in a 'female space'." Hard to gesture the quotation marks with so many bags in his hands, but he thinks the spirit is there. "Does this fall under the would give my parents a heart attack if they knew category? Because if so-" He leans in with a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Let them know and bring me the details."
Things are simultaneously making sense for her and confusing her even more. He fulfills some of the stereotypes of a gay man, and yet Midge also believes that he is genuinely attracted to her. She’ll keep looking for signs that might help her make sense of him until she feels comfortable enough to ask him.
In the meantime, she snorts a laugh at his joke about balls shrinking. “I like having you in my female space,” she retorts saucily. People can say what they will about his feminine qualities, but he is breaking a lot of the stereotypes about men that Midge finds irritating. If they can enjoy things together, isn’t that all that matters?
If only she could silence the voice in the back of her head that wonders if she’s what he really wants.
At the lunch counter, Midge orders a Coke and then peruses the menu. It’s mostly sandwiches, burgers and a few hot dishes.
He laughs at her saucy comment, and wonders how far into her female space she'll let him go.
"Look at this variety of food," he says as he admires the menu. "Bless those cold boxes."
He orders a tuna salad for himself, since fish will always remind him of Oxenfurt. After Midge orders too, he takes a sip of his fresh orange juice and rests his chin on his hand, that twinkle in his eyes appearing again.
"How about a little game? A question for a question. The name explains itself."
She chooses a roast beef sandwich and some coleslaw. The waiter behind the counter pops open the top of her bottle of Coke, then sets it down in front of her.
She takes a drink and glances at Jaskier.
“Alright,” she replies. “I’ll let you go first since you seem keen.”
If there’s anything he wants to know, he can always just ask. No need to make a game of it, but that just seems to be part of his playful nature, so she’ll play along.
“Well, first of all, I’m offended that you apparently think that a stylish woman can’t be funny,” she jokes.
Her face gets more serious. It’s not that Midge keeps details of her life a secret, but she and Jaskier haven’t discussed this yet.
“I’m divorced,” she starts. “My ex-husband was interested in stand-up comedy. We’d go to the club and I’d make a brisket for the manager so that he could get a good time slot, but he just wasn’t that funny.” And that was with ‘borrowed’ jokes too. “One night he told me that he was leaving me because he was sleeping with his secretary.”
Midge is quiet for a moment. Even after so long, Joel’s betrayal and the destruction of her marriage still hurt.
“That night, I got incredibly drunk and went out to the club in the pouring rain in my nightgown. I got onstage and just let him have it. I was pouring my heart out, but it was funny, and it was… exhilarating, you know?”
Fuck, Jaskier mumbles under his breath as Midge starts explaining. He wasn't expecting something so heavy, and part of him wishes to stop her and bring her smile back. It wouldn't be fair, though. It's her story to tell, and the least he could do is hear her out.
(Mental note: don't ever, ever tell her he's fucked married people.)
The second part of the story is actually hilarious, an anecdote worthy of an artist. But Jaskier keeps his face neutral, not quite sure of how to tackle this yet. He realizes she could've started her story there, without having to explain why she was drunk. Yet she didn't. The series of events is intrinsically bounded and she refuses to separate them - that's important for an artist, to channel those emotions, use them in their art.
Susie probably saw that, Jaskier thinks. She was right. Midge is going to go far.
"I do know. A thrill so high that naughty substances can't even start to imitate. Holding a crowd in the palm of your hand and being the master of their emotions... People believe that judges and kings play god. I think artists do."
Very gently, he reaches to hold her wrist, giving a light squeeze before rubbing her hand with his calloused thumb.
"Sorry I made you bring this up. I could've never guessed..." He shakes his head. "I was expecting something about a woman trying to make it in the sea of cocks. Which was what I meant, by the way." She was clearly joking about being offended, but considering the turn this took, better to throw some assurance out there. He does think pretty ladies can be funny, but he also knows the reality of the industry. "Thank you for sharing. That last bit? I couldn't have written a better prologue for a comedian. I wish I could've seen you. It sounds like it was very raw." His tone says that's a positive thing.
Whether she likes it or not, Joel cheating on her was the catalyst that got her onto the stage. She doesn’t necessarily make a secret of it and she doesn’t mind Jaskier knowing, especially because he seems romantically interested in her.
The touch of his hand against hers, calloused though his fingers may be, feels nice.
“I’m also a woman trying to make it in a sea of cocks,” she confirms. It’s been an uphill battle. “I went back a few nights later after a disastrous Passover seder at which Joel and I tried to pretend that everything was fine.” Midge glances up at him. “I’m Jewish. If you know what that is. It’s a religion and… honestly a culture.”
That’s another thing Jaskier would learn about her sooner or later. Hopefully, being from another world entirely means that he doesn’t have any sort of negative preconceived notions about Jews.
He winces at the story, understanding enough to know what happened. It brings memories of family dinners spent pretending that the middle child didn't like kissing boys as much as he liked kissing girls.
"You've mentioned several words I don't understand, but I got the idea. Holiday with the family, keeping up appearances."
A pause. His thumb stops moving, but he doesn't remove his hand. This was supposed to be a fun game, yet here they are. Religion isn't exactly a conversation they should be having during a game, and yet... Jaskier thinks back to what he thought during their texting: better get things out of the way now.
"I'm not a friend of religion." His face is very serious. "And that's putting it extremely lightly. I hope that won't be a problem."
So much for your fun game, Jaskier. Midge really didn’t mean for it to get so serious so quickly. She probably ought to try to lighten the mood, though maybe they should just put all of their cards on the table.
It’s the most serious that she’s ever seen him before, and Midge wonders what sort of trauma he experienced with religion where he comes from. She knows plenty of people here who have had similar experiences.
“It’s alright. Religion is a complicated thing. Mine is not the dominant one and our people have been persecuted in the past.” That’s putting the genocide lightly. “Respect is all that I ask for.” As for her parents? Well. That’s getting a little bit ahead of things, isn’t it?
“If it’s my turn…” Midge takes a deep breath, debating how best to ask this question and ultimately deciding not to beat around the bush. “I spoke with some of the girls at the club about you and they told me that I should speak with Brandon…”
Midge presumes that Jaskier sleeping with men isn’t something that he keeps secret. The girls told him and Brandon was forthcoming too.
“I, um… do you like women and men?” Before he pulls away from her, Midge tries to explain herself. “I’ve heard of that before, but I’ve never met anyone… maybe it’s common where you come from?”
Is she explaining herself badly? She just wants him to know that she isn’t mad or necessarily turned off. She just wants to understand- and be reassured that he really is interested in her.
"Respect indeed," he responds in agreement. Coming from another person, he'd be more wary to agree. But she explains that her people were also persecuted, and considering all the other things they've talked about, like Elftown - well, she doesn't seem like the type of gal who asks to respect a shitty opinion.
Midge talked to the girls, huh? He wonders why - just self-preservation, making sure he's safe? Or curiosity about Jaskier's intimate stories? She looks so serious, though; is she going to have a problem with him sleeping around?
Then she brings up Brandon, and Jaskier's entire body tenses.
Brandon trusting her with that information should be a good sign, should speak well of where she stands. But the fact that she's bringing up this after their conversation about religion and keeping up appearances makes him nervous.
Jaskier doesn't know what to expect. But her calling it 'common in his world' is definitely not it.
It hits him with such a mood whiplash! He's expecting the worst, yet her question is just... innocent. Curious.
He can't help it. He has to laugh. The hand is pulled back, but not for a bad reason: the idea is just so ridiculous that he has to grab his body as he bends over.
"Common?" he manages to ask between chuckles. "Goodness, no! Why do you think I'm not a friend of a religion?" As the laughing calms down, his hands go crazy with gesturing. "I mean, that and other hundred reasons, including censorship and book burning, but, you know... I'm quite sure that's number one on the list."
After sipping more juice, he leans back in his seat and tils his head, looking at her like she's the most precious thing.
"Yes, I like women, men, and everything in the middle. I don't care what is in your underwear as long as it's happy to see me." Wink~
She’s a little concerned when he starts to laugh, but his response makes her relax a bit. The fact that he didn’t get angry or deny it leads her to believe that he’s not trying to hide anything about himself.
“There are a lot of people here who don’t agree with it either,” she says. “It’s taboo.”
Midge looks over at him, offering a little smile at his wink.
“You’re pretty open about it. Some gay men here sleep with women in order to hide the fact that they really like men. You’re saying you like… everyone?”
It’s the last bit of reassurance that she needs that he’s actually interested in her.
"So I've noticed," he replies more seriously. "I wouldn't call myself 'pretty open'. It depends on the person and the context. Brandon and the girls trusted you with the information, and we've talked about other taboo subjects. You're open-minded and appreciate my love for fashion." His expression softens - his smile is raw, tinted by years of dealing with lots of shit. "You made me feel safe. So thanks."
A little sigh. "But you won't see me sing it on the streets, even if people do tend to assume because of my mannerisms. I promise you that Ciri hasn't told her friends that their math teacher was absent on exam day because her uncle fucked him."
Her next words slowly sink in and he finally realizes why she wanted to ask this, besides curiosity and wanting a better understanding. And after what she said about her ex-husband, he understands why. An urge to protect her is starting to grow, and Jaskier wonders if he could convince Yennefer to send a curse after the bastard who broke her heart.
"Oh, darling, is that what you were afraid of?" He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Yes, I like everyone. Brandon is the one exclusively into men. Which kinda broke Roxy's heart because we were hoping for a threesome." If the girls have shared stories with her already, he assumes that's safe to share too. "If you need assurance of how much I desire you, I can call Geralt. His nose can smell arousal."
Which means Midge was less subtle than they thought the other night. Oopsie.
Jaskier just said… a lot, and she’s sure that her surprise shows on her face. Apparently she’s made him feel very safe when it comes to sharing personal information. It seems that he’s not shy at all when it comes to sex.
Midge isn’t prude, but she doesn’t think she’s nearly experienced enough to keep up with him. It’s strange. Most men who just want to sleep with her are the type that she would tell to fuck off. It feels different with Jaskier. Maybe because it feels like he genuinely cares for her.
“Geralt can smell arousal?” Midge asks, then a realization hits her. “Oh God, did he think…?”
He probably did. She wasn’t subtle. Her cheeks turn red.
Jaskier is definitely not shy about sex. He may hide the gender of his partners sometimes, but talking about naughty things? That's free for all.
Look at those cheeks. So cute. "Oh, yes, he did," he replies while laughing at her reaction. "But to be fair, I could tell too, and I didn't need a hound's nose for it." She wasn't subtle, he's trying to say.
At that moment, their food arrives. Jaskier thanks the waitress with a compliment and offers a sweet smile, not being able to stop the flirting even at times like this.
"It's my turn, isn't it?" He takes a bite of his salad while deciding what topic to go for next. There are many options, yet his curiosity makes him go back to a certain thing. "Please stop me if I'm accidentally stumbling into another dark moment, but I hope you understand - there's no such thing as divorce in my world, so my curiosity is itching. You're legally allowed to say you're 'single' now? You live alone?"
“That’s really embarrassing,” Midge replies. “Maybe he ought to try being less hot though.”
After taking a bite of her sandwich, she answers his next question.
“Yes, I’m single, but I don’t live alone. I have two children.” Does that surprise him? “Ethan is 5 and Esther is 2. Joel and I split custody of them so they’re not at the apartment all the time. My parents also live with me and I wish I could split custody of them with someone else because they’re always there.”
Geralt doesn't even think he is hot in the first place, but Jaskier decides he doesn't want to discuss his best friend's self-esteem issues and lets the matter go.
"...you're a mother?"
Indeed, it does surprise him. They've gone through many complicated subjects, yet this one is the one that leaves him with wide eyes and an open mouth. It's not like he hasn't fucked mothers before, and her age isn't even something he'd think about because women marry and give birth that young in his world too. No, the reason why it's surprising is her willingness to still go out to bars and have fun, especially when the kids are still that young.
There is no judgment on his part, though. The exact opposite, in fact. She wants to have fun, she wants her freedom, she says fuck you to what society expects of her. As if Jaskier needed another reason to be attracted to her.
He snaps out of it when she makes the joke about her parents, and he laughs.
"That does sound like a little piece of hell. But that means free babysitters, right?" They must know about her career, he realizes. He may already have his next question, but it's her turn. "As frustrating as it sounds, I'm glad you aren't alone."
At first she thinks his astonishment is a judgement. A mother should be home taking care of her children, not galavanting around at night. It’s a guilt trip she’s given herself before. Midge really ought to know Jaskier better by now, because it’s clear that his expression is one of wonder and not shame. She’d like to think she happens to look fantastic for a mother of two. He seems to agree.
“Exactly.” She grins. “I’m glad not to be alone.” Even though her family drives her insane sometimes, they’re very close. “Tell me about who you live with other than Geralt. His wife? Your niece?”
"I also live with family," he replies with no hesitation - because that's what they are, blood be damned. "Geralt, his wife Yennefer, and their daughter Cirilla. They are--" He freezes when he remembers something, and then he gets all excited. "Waitwaitwait, I have the perfect thing--"
Jaskier gets his jacket and starts searching all the pockets for his notebook. "Those camera thingies, oh, what wondrous invention. I traveled so much, Midge, do you have any idea how I would've loved to have such a device-- ah-ha!"
From the last pages of his notebook, Jaskier takes out a Polaroid picture that he puts down on the table to show Midge. It's the four of them at a diner shortly after they arrived, so they're still wearing their medieval clothes. The waitress took the picture. Geralt has his arm on the back of the booth seat and Yennefer is resting her head on it as they both look at Cirilla with obvious fondness. On the opposite side of the table, Jaskier and Ciri are excitedly pouring chocolate syrup on a huge sundae.
"Life with three immortals can bruise one's ego, so I hope those creams you recommend work for both my skin and my pride."
Midge grins as she looks at the photo. Geralt’s wife is stunning, as Midge predicted. Not that she was planning to make a move on him anyway, but she’d stand no chance against her. Ciri is beautiful too, and seeing Jaskier have fun with her warms her heart as a mother.
“They’re immortal?” she asks. “Gee, it’d be great to look like that forever, huh? They’re your family?”
She wonders about his biological family, but doesn’t ask.
At first, he only nods at her question since he's attacking the salad while she looks at the picture. Midge is smiling, so it seems she doesn't find Jaskier's situation weird. Good. It's so hard to explain sometimes. Then again, she doesn't have background on witchers or the Law of Surprise.
He takes another sip of his juice before replying again. "They are. I've known Geralt since I was eighteen. That's--" He wiggles his fingers as he makes the mental math. "--twenty-five years ago. Fuck."
Jaskier pauses for a second. He's a very energetic man at 42, and he hasn't felt the weight of his age yet, but sometimes when he mentions the numbers, it hits him like a hammer. He worries about what will happen to his family when he isn't there to keep them grounded anymore.
"Sorry, where was I? Right- Met Geralt when I was eighteen, and we met Yennefer--" Another pause for more mental math. "--sixteen years later. We used to hate each other's guts, but war has a way to bring people together." He rubs the tips of his burnt fingers. "Geralt says that sometimes he misses it when we didn't get along because now we can team up against his stubborn arse."
She never would have guessed that he was 42. He looks much younger than that. “I’m 27,” she offers. A man isn’t supposed to ask a woman her age, so she tells him instead. Besides, she doesn’t think it needs to be some kind of big secret. She’s not that old yet.
Midge keeps eating her lunch as they talk. “Isn’t it great when you get to team up with family members against other ones?”
That's around the age he's guessed for her, so he isn't surprised. At least she isn't bothered by his age - he's noticed that people in this world are more touchy about age gaps. Jaskier doesn't care as long as they're adults.
"Oh, it absolutely is. Ciri and I make a killing team. Although I wonder if you'll think the same when your kids are old enough to team up against you."
Part of him wants to ask what her parents think of her recent choices, but he can't bring himself to do it. They've finally brought back the playful mood to the conversation, and he doesn't want to ruin it again. Besides, if she keeps asking about his own family, he'll have to talk about Lettenhove, and he isn't ready for that.
"What is your favorite flower?" Sounds like a silly one, but it's important to him.
She’s fine with the lighter turn of the conversation. They’ve had enough seriousness for one day.
“Oh, they already do that,” Midge assures him.
The question is actually a harder one to answer than she thought it would be, and Midge takes a moment to think about it. “Roses are classic,” she answers, “but I like peonies and dahlias too.”
He chuckles at the mental image of those two little menaces already teaming up against her. With such a sassy mother, it's not surprising that the siblings are developing an attitude too.
"Roses, peonies, and dahlias," he counts with his fingers. "And you looked like a cute chickpea in your new dress. This may be just a silly theory, but I thiiiiink pink is your favorite color."
The flirting takes him by surprise, and he can't help blinking a few times as if double-checking this is real. It seems that the shopping trip and their little game have made Jaskier grow on her. (This is going straight to his ego.)
As a grin appears on his face, he carefully stretches a leg to touch her foot with his.
"So I wasn't imagining things," he teases. "Playing with me in a private room - you're a very dangerous lady. I kept wishing I could keep you there for a few more hours..." He leans in and winks as he whispers. "The danger of getting caught makes it more thrilling."
Midge happens to be growing quite fond of him. She feels a bit more reassured with the explanation about his sexuality, even if she still doesn’t really understand how a person can be attracted to everyone. It’s clear that Jaskier is quite attracted to her though, and she can’t discourage that.
She taps her foot back against his. “There will be other private rooms,” Midge says, “ones that will probably be more comfortable than that one.” A shiver of desire goes up her spine at his whispered words and she can’t help herself. She has to push it further. “And what would you do with me if you had me all to yourself for a few hours?” she murmurs.
As soon as she mentions more comfortable rooms, Jaskier can't stop his tongue from wetting his lips, his brain providing a wonderful mental image of her sprawled on the bed of one of those fancy hotels.
She's asking for more right at the table of a busy restaurant, and what else can Jaskier do but provide? Midge is going to drive him crazy, he can tell. The magic of connecting with another artist, the sparks are on a different level.
"I would crawl under your skirt--" His foot raises to caress her ankle. "Take off your panties with my teeth, and show you exactly what the trained mouth of a singer can do."
She lets out a breathy oh at the picture that he’s painting. Midge can’t deny that it’s a nice one. Her pulse starts to pick up and she can feel her arousal growing at the idea of him under her skirt.
There’s something exciting about having this conversation in the middle of a restaurant, talking low with their heads close together. Even if they’re in public, no one is really paying attention to them.
“I think I’d like that,” she tells him quietly. “How long do you think you can stay down there?”
That oh is absolutely perfect, and Jaskier can feel it pushing his blood south. It's a dangerous conversation to have in public if they don't plan to do anything about it. She may hide it, but a man can't.
Does this stop him? Of course not. He'll use his jacket and the bags - perhaps walk behind her. Which would probably make it worse, but also so, so much better.
"As long as you need me to." His foot raises a little more, this time to caress her calf. "As long as your legs can keep you standing. I wonder, how many orgasms are required to make you collapse on my lap?"
The gasp is a little louder this time and Midge swallows hard. She squeezes her thighs together. Her whole body feels heated at the sensation of his foot on her leg.
“Do you want to find out?” It’s gone beyond cheeky teasing now and Midge feels like she’s on a train that cannot be stopped. She quickly does some figuring in her head: her parents should be out until evening. Her kids are with Joel.
How is he supposed to think clearly when she keeps making the most beautiful noises? Her offer is surprising but definitely not unwelcome. There's hunger in his eyes as he raises his hand and calls the waitress to request the bill.
"It seems I'll have to steal makeup right from your bedroom."
That's a yes.
They didn't finish their lunches and he doesn't care, but he does make sure to tip generously. Jaskier walks behind Midge as they leave the mall, both of them walking in quite a hurry but still making sure that their bodies keep brushing all the way to the exit.
Once they're in the back of a cab, Jaskier spreads the bags on their laps, saying something about being careful with the fine fabrics. In truth, it's all a trick to have cover as he drops a hand on Midge's thigh and gives it a light squeeze.
Midge has never done anything like this before, but she can’t bring herself to care. The tension has been simmering between them and right now she wants. If there will be any consequences, she’s not thinking about them.
She eyes him in the taxi when she feels his hand on her thigh. Sitting as closely together as they are, she’s sure he can feel the heat coming off of her, see the pounding of her heart in her chest. He keeps his hand there, enough to tease her and drive her wild as they take what feels like the longest taxi ride ever.
If Jaskier isn’t lost in his lust, he’ll notice that they’re entering a nice part of town. The building that the taxi parks in front of is large and fancy. After quickly paying the cabbie, Midge grabs Jaskier’s hand and pulls him inside.
Thank God nobody that she knows is around. She doesn’t want to have to introduce him right now or explain this later if it gets back to her parents. The elevator ride is agony and Midge almost loses control with his hands on her body. They’re almost there though. Just a few more minutes…
She pushes the door to the apartment behind them and is pressing her lips to his before the door even closes. The kisses are desperate, a little moan of satisfaction escaping her mouth at such a longing finally satisfied.
Jaskier does notice that the neighborhood and the building speak of money, and part of his mind does register that this should be a big deal. But right now? He can't bring himself to care. He's bedded noble ladies in big castles before, he can panic about this later when it's clear that their friendship (perhaps with benefits?) will carry on after their fuck.
All the bags are dropped to the floor as soon as Midge pushes him against the door. He gasps in surprise but it's short-lived; there's no hesitation in the way he kisses her back. Jaskier wraps his arms around her and presses her body against his, his whole body shivering in pleasure at the feeling of her breasts against his chest.
Her desperation is nothing but flattering, yet Jaskier can't help wondering if nobody has taken care of her since the divorce. Their first time should be good, an opportunity to get to know each other's bodies. So he captures her mouth in his and tries to guide her into something more sensual than frantic, kissing her like she's the most precious thing and basking in every second of it.
If Midge cares to let her leg slip between his, she'll notice the tent on his pants slowly growing.
She’s had sex since her divorce; whether it was good sex is up for debate. Midge hasn’t had really good sex in a while, so any efforts that he makes to please her will be appreciated and rewarded.
When he slows down it feels like her heart might burst out of her chest and something other than lust swells up inside of her. It’s no less hungry though. Her fingers sift through his hair as they kiss, not stopping until each of them are gasping for air.
As she pulls back in order to lead him to her room, her eyes drift to the obvious bulge in his pants. With a breathless laugh, she tugs on his hand and leads him down the hallway to her bedroom.
The fingers in her hair make him groan into the kiss, sending goosebumps through his whole body. He can't wait to see what those fingers will do next.
The little trip down the hallway isn't wasted: Jaskier drops his jacket and his boots in the way, always an expert on undressing on the run. As soon as they enter her bedroom, he grabs her by her waist and pulls to press her body against his again. A new gasp escapes him when she brushes against her obvious bulge.
This time, his mouth falls on her shoulder, leaving light kisses that make their way up her neck and ear. He whispers Midge with a deep voice full of desire before capturing her mouth again. His tongue searches for her and he feels that electrical shock of raw want hits his entire body when they meet.
As he deepens the kiss, he lets his hands roam, caressing her back with calloused fingers.
“Jaskier,” she whispers back. His hands feel sure against her and it only turns her on even more. By all accounts, he’s good at this. Confident. She wants him so badly, and it’s obvious by the bulge pressing against her stomach that he wants her just as much.
Her hands move to his chest, unbuttoning his doublet, something that she has most definitely never done before. As his hands roam her back, she pulls her mouth away from his for just a moment.
“The zipper is back there,” she says, sure that he’ll be able to find it.
If she continues to say his name like that, he isn't sure if he'll be able to keep control for long. The desire in her voice matches his and he's dying to give her what she wants.
He can't help but chuckle at the mention of the zipper and buries his nose in her ear to speak. "I know where it is. Another wonderful invention, I must say - love the easy access." A bit of nibbling her earlobe before talking again. "But I thought my goal was to climb under your lovely skirt. Are we changing plans? Or will you let me feel the fabric on my skin while I taste you?"
Since she's eager for more undressing, he decides to both grant her wish and prove his point by taking off his shirt, leaving his upper body bare. His tuning fork necklace rests on his very hairy chest, and there are little scars and scraps caused by years of being on the road with a witcher. There's one big one, though, a slash that starts at his back and goes around the side of his body to end at his ribs.
The way he whispers in her ear like that makes her throb with need. It’s not just the words, but the tone as well. He will find out all too quickly that words whispered in the heat of passion turn her on immensely.
Midge hums her approval of his plan and takes a moment to slip off her heels while he takes off his shirt. She pauses at the sight of his chest, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Of the few men’s chests that she’s seen, she’s never seen one so muscular before. It’s not what she was expecting to find under that doublet. One of her hands digs into his chest hair while the other traces over the definition in his abs.
Her question makes him chuckle - oh, how adorable she is. "Like what you see?" he teases with a big grin - this is going straight to his ego, too.
Jaskier lets out a little happy sigh when she starts touching him, enjoying the feeling of her warm hands on his skin. He hums every time her fingers move, encouraging her to explore more but also expressing how lovely it feels. While she plays, he undoes his belt and lets his pants drop, stepping out of them before toeing off his socks.
The white briefs are tight around his swollen groin, and a small wet spot at the front proves how much he wants this. Remembering the conversation they had about sexuality, Jaskier decides to play with Midde a little. He steps closer as he grabs her hands, guiding them behind him to drop them on his (very perky thanks to years of walking) ass.
His ego is going to be massive by the time they’re done. Midge doesn’t relish adding to it, but she has to admit it when he’s particularly spectacular.
She watches as he removes his pants, her eyes on the bulge in the front. A little frisson of desire runs through her. Then, he’s grabbing her hands and moving them to his backside.
It’s a surprising move, but she recovers quickly and gives his ass a squeeze. “I like what I see and what I feel.”
The squeeze causes him to buck his hips against her, and a little whimper escapes his lips. He's so fucking hard right now, but he's a man on a mission. "Glad my lady is pleased."
Then he kisses her again, taking a moment to suck on her tongue before breaking it. Don't worry, though, he isn't going anywhere: he kisses her cheek and makes his way down to drop open-mouthed kisses on her neck. His hands fall on her waist and slowly go back, too, to return to the squeeze to her lovely bottom. Every noise she makes is music to his ears, and he wants to keep playing her like a lute until she reaches the highest notes.
"I'm guessing marking your neck is out of the question, Madam Comedian." Considering stage presence and all.
After another kiss to her cheek, Jaskier starts to bend his knees to lower his body. He buries her face in her breasts, rubbing his cheeks against the soft fabric of her dress. His hands go down as he does, caressing the back of her legs.
Once he's finally on his knees, he grabs Midge's foot and drops another kiss on it. Raising her skirt just a bit is enough for him to lick his lips, which he does while maintaining eye contact with her on purpose. After a wink, he disappears under the dress, calloused fingers grabbing her actual thighs skin-to-skin while his mouth closes around them, offering more open-mouthed kisses dangerously close to her underwear but not getting quite there yet.
"But are your inner thighs a fair game?" It's a sincere request for permission, which he demonstrates by letting his teeth lightly graze her skin during another kiss.
She should have known that a man who plays string instruments would be good with his hands. Jaskier is hardly even touching any of her erogenous zones and her panties are already soaking wet for him. His time spent at her breasts is all too brief and Midge hopes that he might linger there a bit later.
When he disappears under her skirt, she widens her stance, spreading her legs for him. He’s already between them, sucking at the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
“Yes…” He can mark her there. Her thighs are more often than not covered by clothing. “Trying to mark your territory?”
Her spreading her legs makes him whimper again - so eager, so ready for him. His entire body shivers at the thought of her doing the same when he throws her on the bed and buries himself in her.
"More like trying to make a canvas out of you."
He barely finishes saying you before he's already nibbling on the skin of her inner thigh, gently but firmly. He then licks and sucks with gusto, knowing what the result will be even if he can't exactly see under her skirt. This is just round one, anyway. He can admire his art when he undresses her later.
His arms close around her legs to hold tightly as his tongue licks a trail up her thigh until he finally reaches her underwear, which is soaking. He smiles against the wet fabric and nuzzles it to both tease and bask in the smell. His own body is burning and the sensation is amplified by the fabric of her dress brushing his back and head, driving him crazy.
His tongue starts to slowly lick her panties, occasionally pressing in to tease her folds. It's an addictive feeling to be buried into a woman like this and hear the noises she makes while he plays her like an instrument. Jaskier finds pleasure in every little noise Midge makes and like an expert conductor, he waits for her to reach peak desperation before he finally grabs her panties with his teeth and pulls down.
Midge inhales sharply when she feels his mouth on her panties. It’s only a thin piece of cloth separating her from his tongue, but she still wishes it were gone. With his head under her skirt, she can’t find purchase by digging her fingers into his hair. She reaches out and clutches the corner of her vanity in order to keep steady.
Not being able to see him, just being able to feel him, is turning out to be hotter than she thought it would be. “Fuck,” she hisses as his tongue swipes along her, probing at her folds. Instinctively, Midge starts to rock her hips gently against his face, wanting more as he heightens her pleasure.
When he moves his head, she almost curses at him, then realizes that he’s gripping her panties with his teeth in order to pull them down her legs.
His teeth lower the panties as much as they can, but eventually his hands have to join to finish the job. Those same hands guide her feet to take off the panties, and he raises the skirt just enough to throw them across the room. All the while, he sings a little something.
"♫ Dip me under where you can feel my river flow and flow / Hold me until I scream for air to breathe / And wash me over until my well runs dry ♫"
(This song is not about geography.)
Calloused fingers caress Midge's legs as they make their way back up to reach her ass, squeezing tightly as Jaskier speaks. "That rocking from before? Keep doing it."
And without warning, he just dives in.
It only takes two seconds for him to become addicted. His hard dick aches every time her taste floods his mouth and her smell invades his nose, but it's such a delicious ache, which makes his body sweat and causes a wonderful contrast whenever her skirt brushes against his wet skin. His fingers never stop massaging her butt while he joins her song with noises of his own, sounding like a ravenous man having a feast with every lick and suck.
Even in her haze of lust, Midge can still enjoy a good metaphor. She laughs lightly at his song, enjoying the bright, clear sound of his voice. It’s ironic that he’s a singer considering that she can’t hold a tune.
A little gasp escapes her mouth when he grabs her ass. “You got it,” she replies.
Jaskier eats her like a man who hasn’t had food for days. All Midge can do is hold on tightly to the vanity and moan out her pleasure. She rocks her hips more forcefully this time, trying to get him to focus his tongue on her clit. He seems intent to explore her completely, and even she can’t protest that very much. She feels like she’s being devoured in the best way possible.
He's going to need her to say his name like that again.
If she wants him to focus on her clit, then her wish shall be granted. Jaskier closes his mouth around it to suck on it as if his life depended on it, making sure to pay attention to her moans to find the spots she enjoys getting licked the most.
This doesn't mean he won't explore her anymore - what is he, a monster? A hand leaves her ass so calloused fingertips find their way between her folds. At first, they just caress gently, massaging as they gather her wetness. When his fingers are drenched, they tease her etrance before his index goes in, moving slowly at first but joining the rhythm of his mouth one he's sure she's fine and enjoying herself.
She’s happy to let him know exactly how she likes it once his tongue finds the perfect pattern on her clit. “There!” She gasps, “Oh my God, don’t stop…”
Her free hand rests on top of his head, scrunching her dress as she digs her fingers into his hair through it. Midge needs to hold on to him, to have something solid to rock herself against as he brings her closer and closer to orgasm.
His fingers are a welcome addition. As he slicks them up, tracing her opening, little pleas issue forth from her lips. Midge’s eyes flutter closed, just focusing on feeling him drive her to the brink of madness. There’s a moan of satisfaction when his finger slides into her heat.
Stop? The last thing in his mind right now. A horde of monsters would have to come through the window to stop him.
His movements do fumble a little, though, when she grabs his head through the fabric of her skirt. He groans against her clit, his hips bucking into the air in desperation. His own blood is boiling thanks to the heat of the dress-tent, her taste on his tongue, and the wonderful music she's making that strokes his ears.
A second finger soon slides in as well and Jasker groans again as she feels how tight she is around his digits, his cock aching more at the mere chance of doing the same later. Both fingers go as deep as they can and curb inside, teasing her walls while his mouth continues to make obsene sucking noises around her clit.
The rumbling of his voice against her most sensitive parts adds to the pleasure that he’s giving her. Jaskier is so precise in his approach, his tongue and fingers working expertly in tandem. His fingers thrust in easily given how wet she is, the motion making an equally obscene noise in response to the greedy sounds of his mouth.
Midge’s thighs tremble and she gasps for air, hips stuttering against his face. She can feel the wave of a powerful climax build quickly inside of her until it finally snaps. Her walls contract around his fingers and she wails for him.
“Jaskier!”
Her whole body trembles now, knees buckling slightly as she rides out her orgasm. It’s been forever since she’s come this hard and she never wants it to end.
As soon as he feels her walls contracting around his fingers, his mouth pulls away just one inch to speak with a needy voice.
"Come for me, darling."
And then it goes back to work, letting his tongue lick away all her fluids as she comes on his face. His fingers stay buried inside her and help her ride out the orgasm; teasing, rubbing, and caressing until she can't stand on her own any longer.
Even during the aftershocks, Jaskier stays with his nose buried in her curls, making sure he's milking her until the last second. Only then does he finally move, letting the skirt fall back in place on its own as he stands up.
His dry hand gently cups her face to make sure she's looking at him when he licks his lips very slowly. The shine on his nose and skin around his mouth proves how deep he put his face in there, and he doesn't regret a single second of it.
"I didn't think you could get any more gorgeous, yet here we are." Her post-orgasm face is absolutely perfect, and he wishes he could just look at it for hours to keep it as inspiration for erotic poetry. He stares at her hungrily now as he takes a step forward, trapping her between the dresser and his sweaty body. His hips can't help but rub against her dress, and he has to bite down another whimper so he can ask- "I take it you had fun?"
Midge pants softly, trying to catch her breath. She watches as Jaskier licks his lips and can’t help put crash her mouth against his. She puts her hands on his chest as she kisses him hungrily, tasting herself on his tongue.
It’s a reassurance. No man who didn’t like women would press his face so thoroughly into her cunt and make her come that hard.
Midge grins when she pulls back from the kiss, though she stays close to him. “What woman wouldn’t have fun with a handsome man’s face between her legs? I hope you’ll do that again.” After another brief kiss, Midge reaches down between their bodies and cups his cock through his underwear. “First, I think we ought to take care of this. I’m also feeling very overdressed right now.”
Jaskier smiles into the kiss as he returns it, getting even turned on by her willingness to taste herself. It may be a sign she'll be adventurous in the future - and it appears there will be a repeat of this, considering her words.
Handsome man, huh? Jaskier grins and nods at her request, willing to do it as many times as she wants to. However, whatever he's about to say is lost when a very needy groan leaves his mouth as Midge cups his cock.
"Midge..." His voice begs as he buries his face in her neck, hand grabbing the dresser on both sides of her as he starts rubbing his aching erection against her hand. "Please..."
There’s something so erotic about hearing a man beg for you. Midge feels powerful. Fortunately, she’s not the type of woman to abuse that power, other than maybe a little tease.
She kisses Jaskier’s temple and ruffles his hair with her free hand while the hand on his cock traces the outline of it. She can feel him throbbing and the need to have him inside of her grows immensely.
Gently, Midge pushes him back so that she can turn around. Reaching behind her, she unzips her dress, looking coyly over her shoulder at him. After the dress drops to the floor, Midge unhooks the clasps to her bra and lets it slide down her shoulders.
She turns to him, completely naked. Her body is fantastic, her breasts large but still perky. Even so, there are things she’s self-conscious about. The only noticeable scars that she has are faded stretch marks on her lower abdomen.
The hair ruffling is adorable, and Jaskier would laugh if he wasn't desperetely moaning at the hend tracing his cock. He thrusts into it, hungry for more - instead she pushes him back, and once again, he pathetically whimpers.
Not complaining about the view, though, that coy look could make man come on the spot. He kisses her shoulder before letting his own underwear fall to the floor too, hissing as the fabric brushes his erection. It stands hard and proudly, average in length but thick enough. The precum at the tip shows how desperately in need of release he is.
Midge is a beauty to behold, and Jaskier can only lick his lips again at the sight. He doesn't even notice the stretch marks - how could he, when he has many scars of his own? Mostly little nicks and nips, but there's a slash on his ribs, claw marks on one leg, and a cut on the other thigh. Not to mention his own stretch marks on his neck. And this is still nothing compared to Geralt.
Marks on one's body are great - it means you survived.
"When you strip for me with your eyes closed, you fit into a glass that rests on my tongue." With need and lust in his blue eyes, he comes closer and drops his hands (sorry for the sticky fingers) on her waist, calloused fingerprints playfully tracing patterns on her stomach. "You fit into my hands like bread I’m hungry for, you fit beneath my body more exactly than its shadow."
He dives in for a new kiss, this one quite needy and clumsy compared to his smooth start, while his fingers reach her breasts to rather enthusiastically play with them. His thumbs rub her nipples until they're perky, perfect for him to pinch.
[ OOC: sorry about this, Jaskier. Also she’s going to make an assumption that I feel like must be true, but if not, let me know and I’ll edit. ]
Midge eyes his naked body, very pleased with what he has to offer. His cock is lovely, although the sight of it has her uttering a little oh. She’s never seen an uncut dick before. Having only slept with Jewish men in the past, all of her past partners have been circumcised. Midge isn’t deterred by the fact that Jaskier isn’t circumcised. It was simply surprising to her. Different.
Midge wraps her arms around him and gives him a sly smile. “Are you making that up on the fly?” If so, it’s pretty impressive, considering how aroused he is. Even if it isn’t, she thinks it would be hard to remember poetry at a time like this.
She opens her mouth against his when he kisses her. She sneaks in a little giggle and happy sigh when he cups her breasts. Midge likes when a man plays with her tits. Meanwhile, her fingers trace over Jaskier’s fantastic abs. They get dangerously close to his cock, but Midge is a bit worried that he’ll explode the moment that she touches him.
lmaooo poor Midge. and yes, you're correct, he's uncut
The contrast is quite funny, when one thinks about it: Jaskier had his first Jewish man recently, and he's still horrified by the practice. Thankfully, Midge doesn't actually comment on it, because it would've killed the mood. That little "oh" is understood by him as she likes what she sees, and that makes him happy. (Another point for his ego, oops.)
"It's an old one," he replies as he shakes his head. "But trust me when I say: after this, I'll have inspiration for days."
Inspiration for writing or for times with his hand? Yes.
That hand is driving him crazy, and Jaskier can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around Midge and picks her up - he isn't a witcher or particularly sporty, but Midge is petite so he can carry her for a short distance without issues. Their legs hit the bed and he just lets them stumble down, putting his hands on the mattress to catch his weight and avoid crushing her.
Cornflower blues stare at her with deep desire, and a deep voice asks- "Tell me what you want," as he lets the tip of his cock sneak between her thighs. His whole body shudders at the contact.
“Glad I could be your muse,” Midge replies. The idea of that is more pleasing to her than she might have thought.
Her arms wrap tightly around him as he lifts her and then lays her on the bed. Her pulse races when Jaskier gets on top of her. With her hands caressing his chest, Midge puts her legs up over his hips.
“I want your cock inside me,” she says, her blue eyes boldly meeting his. She can feel his cock between her legs, pressing at her folds.
Her legs moving so quickly to get in place could already be a perfectly good answer, but then she actually uses words and gods - there's something to be said about cute little ladies using foul language like that.
He teases her entrance with his cock, a gasp escaping him at the wet, marvelous feeling. "Your wish is--"
Suddenly, he freezes, eyes widening as he remembers something. The groan that follows is one of frustration. "Fuck." His head falls on her shoulders. "I forgot about-- the wrapper. Thingy." He means condoms. "For my cock." Hard to remember a new word when there's little blood in his brain. Poetry is different; it's automatic. "Please tell me you have some here because I left the box in my jacket, currently decorating your hallway floor."
She holds her breath, waiting to feel his cock fill her, when suddenly, he’s panicking. Jaskier doesn’t seem like a panicker, so Midge is alarmed for a moment. After his explanation, she raises an eyebrow. “Condoms. You carry them around with you? That’s… optimistic.”
With her foot, she points to the bedside table behind him. “There should be some in there.” A relatively old box left over from when she was still married.
he's very paranoid about pregnancy so learning about condoms in this world was a blessing
Jaskier wants to laugh at her comment, but he's biting down a groan as he pulls away from her. Hardest thing he's done all day. "It's called living a spontaneous life." It's also called he's a slut. "But if instead you want me to ruin your lovely sheets with my cum, just let me know." He winks, clearly teasing.
The box is easily found and Jaskier unrolls a condom while climbing back between her legs. "Want to do the honors?" he asks as he passes it to her.
“Whatever you say,” she teases back. Midge hasn’t minded a man cumming on her in the past, but she doesn’t bring up the option this time. It’s an intimate act, not something that she’s keen to do for a first time. If they grow closer, if they continue to do this, it might be a consideration for the future. A condom is fine. This way he can still cum inside of her without the risk of pregnancy.
Midge rips open the packet and pulls out the condom. Placing it on the (admittedly strange looking) tip of his cock, she rolls it up, her fingers teasing him along the way. Once it’s secure, she gets back into position with her legs over his hips.
“Now, where were we?”
nope. but even if it was a maybe, he'd still not want an accidental one with casual lovers
A little mumbled fuck comes out when she teases him like that. She's already mentioned that there may be a repeat of this, so Jaskier will have to ask her for a handjob at some point. She has lovely hands.
As soon as her legs wrap around him, Jaskier is already bending over, catching the end of that "we" with a kiss. He uses a hand to guide his cock inside, letting out a long and loud moan as her warmth and tightness surround him. The kiss is broken so he can look in her eyes and make sure she's comfortable, then he starts moving.
His thrusts are slow at first - desperate may he be, but he likes a good fuck, and he isn't around to ruin it by coming quickly. He keeps showering her with kisses as he sings for her, being as noisy and loud with his moans as he is in regular talking. She feels absolutely divine around him, and every time he buries himself deep into her, he can feel his whole body melting under the waves of pleasure.
"So good for me," he whispers into her ear between groans. "So fucking good."
absolutely fair. Midge is probably good on kids too.
Midge moans softly as he fills her, adjusting slightly so that she’s comfortable before he starts to thrust. Once she’s sure that he’s positioned well, Midge gives him a little nod to continue.
His movements are languid and she squeezes her walls around him with every slow thrust out. She can’t help but admire his self-control, considering how aroused he is. “Fuck,” she murmurs. “Mmm, that’s perfect…”
Midge wraps her arms around his neck, one of her hands tangling in his hair.
Every time she squeezes, she drives him a little crazier, and it's only the anticipation building to a mind-blowing orgasm that keeps him in check. ...at least, until her hand tangles in his hair and she calls him perfect.
He's one hell of a sucker for praise.
His thrusts start going faster and get a little more frantic - so do his words. There are no full sentences anymore, just Midge's name and little words like yes, fuck, and so good. Since she's holding on to him pretty damn well, he lets one of his hand reach between them and grab her breast, squeezing and pinching with gusto.
She really likes watching him lose control, knowing that she’s the one causing it. Midge meets his thrusts as best as she can, letting out a little cry when he grabs her breast.
“Jaskier…”
It seems that he likes feeling her hand in his hair so she keeps it there, tugging gently. She tries to gauge how close to orgasm he is and whether she will need to reach down between their bodies and stroke her clit in order to come again.
Every tug of his hair earns her a harder thrust and a louder moan. Her cry is absolutely beautiful, and Jaskier basks in the harmony their voices create by their voices expressing their mutual pleasure. It's perfect.
Midge doesn't have to worry about her orgasm because Jaskier always makes sure to take good care of his lovers - he has a reputation for a reason. As soon as he hears his name said like that, his hand leaves her breast to reach for her clit instead, his thumb rubbing with as much desperation as his thrusts.
Midge isn’t particularly loud in bed, but she doesn’t hold back either, especially if her partner is enjoying it. Jaskier is the type of man who finds music in sound, and so she moans for him, the sweet sounds of her pleasure ringing off of the walls.
She moves her hand, grateful that he wants to take care of her. She’s content to lie there and let him keep working above her while he enjoys the sensation of her tight heat around his cock and the sight of her breasts bouncing with each thrust.
How is he supposed to deny such a sweet request? It only takes him two more thrusts to reach finally his peak, burying his cock as deep as possible while he lets out the loudest moan yet. His whole body shudders as a wonderful orgasm hits him from head to toes, an addictive high of absolute pleasure that nothing in the world can match (except for the attention of a loving audience).
Mind blank with pure bliss, a panting Jaskier collapses on top of Midge, his face looking for skin to nuzzle as his first post-orgasm instinct is always a cuddle to enjoy the aftermath. When he regains his breath, he remembers that he's still inside of her and she hasn't finished, so he doesn't hesitate to get back to work.
He doesn't pull out yet, hoping that keeping her full will help with her orgasm. His hand works her clit while his face descends to her chest, sucking and nibbling on a perky nipple.
He looks as if he’s in pure ecstasy when he comes and Midge is happy to take some of the credit for it. As arousing as it is to witness his orgasm, it doesn’t quite push her over the edge too.
Fortunately, Jaskier hasn’t forgotten about her. She’s glad when he doesn’t pull out. Pushing them onto their sides gives him more balance so that he can touch her. Midge hitches her leg high on his hip, opening herself wide for him.
“Yes… like that.”
It hasn’t taken him very long to learn what she likes. As his thumb teases her clit and his mouth sucks at her nipple, she can feel her pleasure growing exponentially.
He hums his appreciation for the compliment, and wishes he had the refractory period he used to have at eighteen just so he could fuck her all over again. Which gives him an idea. When he pulls his mouth away from her breast, a trail of spit keeps them connected, and he has no shame in licking it up.
"Is this alright?" His thumb never leaves her clit, but one of his fingers teases her entrance, attempting to go in together with his flacid dick. "Or would it be too much?" He then nibbles her ear before whispering. "I can always pull out and only use my fingers to play you like a lute... but it's up to you."
Giving her choices at a time like this is slightly difficult for her. Jaskier slows down just enough so that she can think. His cock is wonderful, but if he doesn’t mind not feeling her come around him, then she knows what she wants.
“Pull out and use your fingers,” she asks with a whimper. “Please.” The idea of him playing her like a lute is very appealing.
Jaskier pulls out as soon as she finishes saying out, hissing a little because he's rather sensitive down there after an orgasm. His face never leaves her ear, and he uses his deepest tone to talk while his finger starts massaging her entrance
"I'm guessing you've never taken fingers and a cock at the same time?" His first finger goes in rather easily, thanks to how wet she is. Jaskier lets it explore, touching every wall and curling to try to find that sweet spot. "It's marvellous." Someone is speaking from experience here. Another finger goes in, knuckles flexing as he studies his face, analyzing every noise she makes to find the right notes. "It makes you feel so full." With that, he adds a third finger, and now he can start thrusting in rhythm with his thumb playing with her clit. "Sing for me, darling."
She hasn’t. None of her past lovers have ever tried to put their fingers inside her while their cock was still in. It’s something to consider for the future, though right now, she’s very focused on what Jaskier is doing in the present.
Between his hands and the words being whispered in her ear, Midge feels electric, with so many of her turn ons being engaged at once. After having his cock inside of her, one finger doesn’t feel like much, but then he keeps whispering to her, keeps adding more…
His fingertips brush over something deep inside of her that hits her like an electric shock. Her eyes shoot open and she moans out her pleasure for him, her hips stuttering against his hand.
“Oh fuck,” she cries out. “Keep going, just like that…”
He smugly grins when he finds the right spot and starts rubbing it - but this doesn't stop him from being a tease. Whenever he notices her moans getting higher, he pulls his fingers out for a second before inserting them again, repeating the process in a maddening game. Play her like a lute indeed.
"Such a dirty mouth for a self-proclaimed lady. Proud of your manners may you be, yet here you are now, so wet and open for me..."
“All for you,” she pants. Midge claws at his chest, grunting in frustration when he pulls his fingers away. “You love my dirty mouth… fuck me with your fingers, Jaskier.”
Her blue eyes are on fire as they meet his, her hips continuing to push back against him. She’s wide open for him, not caring if it makes her seem desperate or unladylike. His fingers make lewd sounds every time he thrusts them into her wet cunt. Jaskier keeps bringing her up closer to her sweet release, then stopping before she can get there.
“Please…” she begs sweetly, “please make me come.”
"Yes, I do," he admits with no shame. "Dirty. Feisty. Creative. Such a lovely mouth you have. I bet it would look even prettier wrapped around my cock."
How can he say no to such a sweet request? Seeing she's reached the point of desperation, Jaskier thinks it's time for her to let go. He buries his fingers as deeply as possible and enthusiastically rubs her special spot, with his thumb copying that rhythm on her clit. After one more kiss on the corner of her mouth, he pulls his head back to watch her come.
"I missed it while I was under your skirt, so show me now - show me how gorgeous you can be while you come for me, darling."
With a final gasp, Midge’s eyes roll back as the orgasm slams into her like a wall. She’s silent for just a moment as her body stiffens, then her wails of pleasure echo off the walls. Midge rides the wave of ecstasy for as long as she can, grabbing at Jaskier for purchase.
When it finally subsides, she relaxes on the bed, boneless and speechless.
Jaskier's fingers never stop moving, helping her ride out her orgasm until she's milked every second of it. She looks as beautiful as he imagined she would, and he wishes he could take a picture for -ahem- later inspiration.
He doesn't let go until she collapses. His fingers reach his mouth and he quickly sucks them clean before collapsing next to her. The condom full of cum is still on his dick and he doesn't give a fuck, he just wants to enjoy the moment. Gentle hands bring Midge to his hairy chest, and Jaskier kisses her forehead before nuzzling her hair, a sticky hand drawing random shapes on her back.
Soon, he's humming a happy little tune, just content to cuddle.
Midge nuzzles into his chest, enjoying the good feelings of the afterglow after two very good orgasms. She’s quiet for a moment, then exhales deeply in satisfaction.
“I see why you were so highly recommended,” she said.
That exhale talks volumes, and Jaskier feels rather pleased with himself. Her comment takes him by surprise, and he can't help laughing.
"Glad to hear my reputation continues to precede me." He raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you asked around? Checking the reviews before buying the tickets?"
Her laughter is music to his ears, and he just wants to keep making her laugh over and over. Which is ironic considering who she is and all.
"That is probably the last adjective anyone would ever use to describe me," he says between chuckles. "But I get what you mean - bedroom privacy. Worry not, there won't be any gossip about our unladylike activities. I can't promise my next song won't be about your tits, though. But anonymous tits, if that helps."
“I’m not ashamed,” she reassures him, running a hand through his hair, “but I’ve also never done anything like this before.” Good girls don’t usually have sex with men they just met, but Midge’s definition of what makes a good girl is also shifting the longer she’s in the entertainment industry. Random sex between consenting adults is far from the worst thing that happens.
Midge grins when he mentions writing a song about her tits. “Not to brag, but they’re pretty spectacular.” She stretches her arms up over her head, showing them off.
“Seems like you enjoyed yourself too,” she says, her eyes flicking down to his cock.
His humming is pretty much a purr by now, that nice her hand on his head feels. However, he stops in surprise when she makes her little confession.
"Never? Really?" He tilts his head. "I never thought you were ashamed, the lady thing was just teasing. Gods, a beautiful woman like you must've received so many propositions..." Yet she saved herself, huh? Jaskier's look and smile soften. "Your ex-husband didn't deserve you". Maybe he can hire Geralt to punch Joel. Just for fun.
The comment about her breasts makes him laugh, and he drops a kiss between them while he answers that they are.
When Midge looks at his cock, Jaskier finally remembers the condom and carefully takes it off, tying it up while he answers. "Oh, absolutely. Orgasms hit differently when two artists come together with a spark. And you're incredibly sparky." He winks before looking around. "Is there a place where I can throw this without your family seeing it? Unless there's a hot sibling you haven't told me about." Just kidding. Maybe.
Midge likes touching him and being touched by him in return. Such a thing was missing in her life after the divorce. She laughs softly at his certainty that she’s been propositioned in the past. “There have been a few,” she replies. “Some welcome, some not.” Midge smiles at him warmly. “Thank you,” she says quietly. Geralt would probably punch Joel into next week.
She wishes she could keep him there with his mouth on the tender skin of her breasts, but both of them need a rest. Reluctantly, she leaves Jaskier’s embrace to get some tissues to wrap the used condom in. “My hot sibling lives in Poughkeepsie.” And as far as Midge can tell, wouldn’t be romantically interested in Jaskier.
"I don't know where that is, but I'm guessing it's far away."
Jaskier makes a ball with the tissues around the condom to make it look like a regular paper ball before Midge throws it in a trash can. When she comes back, Jaskier is sitting on the edge of the bed, and he drags her down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I'd love to do this again," he says before kissing her cheek. "But there's a conversation we need to have. Considering the order of events has changed, I don't know if that's something you want to do now, or after our date, if the date is still on the table at all...?"
She's the one who never did this before. As happy as he is to show her the ropes, he better keep an eye out for whatever she may be feeling about it.
Midge wraps her arms around his neck and settles into his lap. She exhales slowly as she listens to what he has to say.
“I’d like to do this again,” she tells him, “and… yes, I’d still like to go on a date with you.”
It’s hard to say what this is between them and Midge isn’t sure if she wants to decide that right now. She’s being guided purely by emotion at this point.
His smile is bright and wide at her answer, his mind already going through the hundred things they could do together.
"Then we shall have this conversation after our date. Nothing could possibly go wrong after a few drinks, right?" Just a bit of teasing before he captures her mouth in his for a soft, lazy kiss.
“Which conversation is that?” She asks between kisses. “What you want to do to me?” Midge likes the idea of hearing that. In fact, she wouldn’t mind hearing what he has to say on the matter right now. It will probably inspire her.
She runs her hands over his chest as they kiss. “How did you get muscles like this?” she asks.
He laughs at her question. She's so good at making him laugh, that alone is priceless. But maybe he shouldn't associate her making him laugh with sex; otherwise, he'll get a boner when he finally sees her act on Friday.
"Gods, the things I'd do to you. Your folks would be back before I was done listing them." His mouth chases hers for more kisses while a hand caresses her back. "Lots of walking and playing monster bait. I dance while I sing, too. And I supposed we should count all the fucking as exercise as well."
“Tell me…” she murmurs, her eyes fluttering closed. “I… really like hearing it.” The only other person that she’s admitted that to is Joel, and he didn’t have quite the way with words that Jaskier does. “I’ll tell you something that I want to do with you as well.” Midge supposes they’ll have to do this again, otherwise they won’t get to continue to explore each other, to find new ways to give and receive pleasure. Having that sort of relationship with him sounds incredibly appealing.
“Oh is that it? All the fucking gave you these abs?” Her fingers trace the muscles. “You played monster bait?”
So cute and coquettish, gosh. It'll be very hard to say no to anything if she keeps asking like that. "New to this yet so eager. A very dirty lady indeed." Just a bit of teasing before he buries his nose in her ear, lowering his voice to a husky tone. "I want to open you with my tongue right before a performance and send you out with a toy up your cunt. Then I'd find a table at the back and touch myself while I watch you tremble every time you take a step. Every time you tell a dirty joke, you'd be thinking about my cock."
Don't mind him. It's no possessiveness, just his ego.
"All the fucking keeps me young," he jokes back. A nod. "Geralt kills the monsters, I sing about it. Now I think about it, I suppose I'm a sort of manager too."
She gasps and her body feels warm all over as she thinks about that. “Oh….” Her cheeks flush. He’s a pro at this. The image in her mind is so vivid. She’s so eager to let him corrupt her, to go a little bit wild. Doesn’t she deserve it?
“I’d love if you took me before a performance,” she breathes. “Bent me over my vanity in my dressing room and pulled down my panties…”
She’ll come back to Jaskier being Geralt’s manager later. Her mind is a bit occupied at the moment.
Oh, look at her flush. She wasn't kidding about being new to this - it's not like Jaskier didn't believe her, but seeing it is something else. He gently grabs her chin and kisses both her cheeks.
"I'm definitely up for that," he replies with no hesitation. If it wasn't for his own gig this Friday, he'd even make plans now. "A vanity with a mirror, correct? Is that what you want, Midge? To see your own face as I pound into you? To admire your own tits while I pinch them?"
“Yes,” she whispers. How has he managed to get her to spill such private desires so soon? Her nipples are rock hard and she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs again. “You’re going to make me be so naughty, aren’t you?”
Midge straddles his lap, her hands digging in the hair on his chest as she hungrily kisses his jaw and neck.
"Make you?" He chuckles. "Darling, no need to hide from me. I'm just pulling out what you've been hiding under gloves and make-up." Which is pretty much saying that yes, he will, but with more words. Jaskier loves his words.
He gasps when she straddles his lap, because she's quite obviously not the only one who has been aroused by the conversation. Jaskier's dick has had time to rest and is slowly waking up. He mumbles a fuck when he notices she's wet against against his cock and his hips can't help thrusting a little.
"Eager to go for a ride?" he asks as he throws his head back to expose his neck (and its very light stretch marks) to all her kisses.
“It’s a side only you will get to see,” she murmurs to him. Even if their relationship is casual, Midge doesn’t expect that she’ll be sleeping with any other men. Jaskier will reap all the benefits of her losing all sense of propriety.
She moans softly when his cock slides through her folds. “Yes. Would you rather lie down or sit just like this?” Both positions have appealing aspects to them. Midge kisses his exposed neck, not realizing that the striations that she’s looking at are stretch marks.
That admission gets another mumbled fuck from him, this one a mix of arousal and frustration. A little voice in his head reminds him that they really need to have that conversation, but it's easily ignored because all his blood is traveling south.
He hums his appreciation for the kisses while his hand reaches behind him, patting the mattress to find the condom box. Thankfully, it didn't fall too far, but he doesn't do anything with it yet. Midge has taken control of the situation, and Jaskier likes it. He wants more.
"Both very tempting options." He lowers his voice like before, since she clearly likes it. "I'm in your hands, my witty lady. Show me this side of yours - let it out. It's earned some fun."
“Let’s stay like this,” she says. “Then I can have you close to me.”
Midge gets up on her knees and guides his head to her chest, wanting to feel his mouth on her breasts. With a sigh, she runs her fingers through his hair. There’s something so luxurious about doing this in the middle of the afternoon when other people are working or running errands. Time has seemed to stop for her since they entered her bedroom.
Before he can respond, she's pushing his head right into her breasts, and Jaskier isn't complaining. Gotta love a woman that gets what she wants. There's no hesitation in his reaction; his mouth immediately opens and gets down to work, his hands soon joining to help. He kisses, sucks, and squeezes rather enthusiastically, making lots of colorful noises to prove how much he enjoys it - and because the noises make it dirtier.
Realizing that this area is also usually covered, Jaskier nibbles and licks her inner breast, making a new hickey canvas to match her thighs.
Midge moans softly in response to his attention, her fingers sifting through his hair. “That feels so good…”
She giggles when she realizes what he’s doing. “Adding to your other artwork?” she asks. Midge doesn’t mind the marks, as long as they aren’t done in place where she might have to explain them.
Gently, she rocks her hips back and forth, pushing his hardening cock through her wet folds. That alone is a wonderful sensation, but it makes her yearn for more. She’ll have it soon enough.
“What did you touch earlier?” she asks. “Inside me… something that made my orgasm so intense.”
The compliment makes him smile against her skin, and her question gets a little nod out of him. But he never stops worshipping her chest, feasting like a famished man. This act alone is already helping him reach a full erection, but Midge's rocking is what gets him groaning. His hands get a little clumsier as they play with her nipples, his body already melting under her attention.
It's her next question that makes him freeze. He pulls back with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, and he has to stop his brain from opening his mouth with the worst comment for the occassion (this is why I fucked married women).
"...you've never touched it before? Not even with your own fingers?" He wraps an arm around her and lets his hand reach her entrance from behind, circling it with a calloused fingertip to gather her wetness before going in. "Nobody has taken good care of you, dear. I'll have to fix that. Thoroughly." His finger curls, searching for that spot again. "Most women have a sensitive spot inside them that can be stimulated for a better orgasm. Men do too, in fact, just at a different entrance."
“No— oh!” Jaskier’s fingers are inside of her quickly, due to how wet she is. They’ve gotten comfortable with each other rather quickly, haven’t they? He searches for just a few seconds until he finds what he’s looking for. Midge lets out a little yelp when his fingers brush that sensitive place, her own fingers tightening in his hair.
“I didn’t know it was there,” she says breathlessly. A lot of women don’t even know their clitoris is there, let alone men.” And men have it as well?
Jaskier gets comfortable around people rather quickly; he isn't exactly known for respecting others' personal space. And if a person has given him permission to touch? All bets are off, especially with lovers. His fingers have already been inside of her; he sees no reason to hold back for round three - unless she asks him to.
Judging by the hands pulling his hair, he doesn't think she will, which just feeds into his bad habits.
"Indeed we do. And you're welcome to play with mine any time you want." He winks before taking his fingers out. Her breasts bounced on his face when she yelped, and that has reminded him that he's supposed to be letting her take control. He can't help it - if he sees a needy woman, his first instinct is to please her. His fingers are quickly licked clean before he tilts his head. "If you have more questions, I'd love nothing more than to answer them - and mayhaps demonstrate. The reins are in your hands - express your wishes, my lady."
She thinks for a moment about how that might be accomplished on a man. Jaskier will probably have to show her. In fact, it seems like there’s a lot he’s going to have to show her. Midge always thought she was rather experienced and open-minded. Her knowledge is nothing compared to his.
Coming back to reality for just a second, she sneaks a look at the clock. They still have some time. Then she looks at the erection straining against his thigh. Jaskier’s already shown that he can be patient even when he’s aroused and waiting. He’s letting her decide what they do.
“Would you show me?” she asks somewhat shyly. “Maybe if I sit like this…?” Midge turns around in his lap so that her back is to his chest. “Show me how to find that place inside me and then I’ll ride that beautiful cock of yours.”
He gasps when Midge turn around and sits with that lovely ass of hers right on top of his erection. There's no stopping another light thrust from his hips or the grin that appears on his face when she makes her request.
"It'd be my honor."
His hands don't get down to business immediately, though. They fall on Midge's shoulders and start going down slowly, teasing every inch of skin they touch on their way. Jaskier drops a kiss on her neck before his mouth returns to her ear, since she likes it so much there.
"How well do you know your own body, darling? So many people have been taught to be ashamed of exploring." He grabs her hand and gently guides her finger to her very wet entrance, then by holding her wrist he makes it thrust a few times, very slowly for now just for the sake of build-up. "I want you to promise me that one day, you'll fill up the bathtub, play some relaxing music, and let your hands be your own lover. Don't leave part of yourself untouched."
His hand then cups hers as his finger joins Midge's inside, guiding it to the magical spot and showing it how to curl just right.
Midge sighs happily at the feeling of his fingers on her soft skin. A soft moan leaves her mouth when he starts to thrust her own hand inside of her.
“You’d think that women who’ve given birth are very familiar with that particular part of their body, but they’ve been taught it’s dirty to touch.” Midge isn’t that repressed, at least. “I know about my clitoris… I’ve had to show men.” Most men are absolutely clueless when it comes to a woman’s body, and then there’s Jaskier showing her things. “I promise.”
Her eyes are riveted to their hands between her legs. There’s something incredibly erotic about having both of their fingers inside her at the same time. Midge spreads her thighs more so that she can push her finger in deeper and be guided to that spot. When she finds it, she inhales sharply, resting her head back on Jaskier’s shoulder.
“Right there…” Midge rubs the spot in circles, starting slowly for now.
Another reason why I'm not friends with religion, he wants to say regarding the whole 'dirty to touch' deal. But this isn't the best of times for such a topic - he likes having a boner right now, and he isn't about to kill it.
"I'm not surprised. But to be fair - I wasn't so different. I had to learn too. That's what university is for, now isn't it?" And when a bunch of teenagers are living together away from their parents, well. Things happen.
Jaskier is grateful for Midge throwing her head over his shoulder because it makes it easier to admire the view. Masturbating makes her look absolutely stunning, and Jaskier wishes they could do the mirror thing now, but- baby steps. He's about to say something but Midge opening her legs and leaning back is capturing his very hard dick between them, so he needs a moment to inhale as well.
"Yes, that's it," he whispers in her ear while his free hand reaches for her breast. "Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous." His finger comes out but only to add a second of hers, showing her how moving them like scissors will do wonders. "Understand the touch of your hand. Be the mistress of your pleasure."
It feels like she has to reach deep inside to be able to touch that spot, but Jaskier’s guidance helps. Her toes curl into the bed sheets, wanting some sort of purchase even though Jaskier is a solid wall behind her.
Scissoring her fingers heightens her pleasure and she gasps before moaning openly. Midge’s other hand moves down between her legs in order to stroke her swollen clit in tandem. The sensation is unlike anything she’s felt before, like her whole body is alive with pleasure. Her thighs start to tremble and her back arches as she gets closer and closer to another powerful orgasm.
Whenever she moves, Jaskier's aching cock gets teased in the most maddenning yet delicious way. He rubs it against her every chance he gets, but he's more concentrated on guiding her. Every sound of hers is a brand new song that he wants to commit to memory, especially when she says his name just like that. Perfect.
It seems she's gotten the hang of it, so Jaskier removes his hand and joins the other one on her breasts, massaging and pinching in a rhythm that matches hers.
"Such a fast learner. I'm so proud of you." He drops kisses all over her neck and face. "Can you be a good girl and finish yourself for me?"
Does Jaskier know that she enjoys being praised? Maybe Yennefer isn’t the only one that’s a witch. He certainly seems to have bewitched Midge in under 24 hours.
Her hips buck against her hands. Between her own hands and Jaskier’s hands teasing her nipples, it feels like her entire body is about to explode with pleasure. Midge stiffens and then tips over the edge, her orgasm bursting inside of her. It’s possibly the most intense orgasm she’s ever had; she feels like she’s swimming in a sea of pure ecstasy. Sounds come out of her mouth, but they’re more noises than words.
When she finishes, she slumps back against him, panting, speechless and boneless.
Jaskier never stops touching her, whispering encouragement and compliments in her ear as he guides her through it. To be responsible for Midge's "firsts" is incredibly erotic in itself, and he hopes he can bring her many more "firsts" in the future.
After she collapses, Jaskier gently cradles her in his arms and makes her sit across his lap for some cuddling. All the brushing and bumping against his cock has him biting his lips, and he has to stop himself from just fucking her thighs.
After a kiss to the top of her head, he recites. "In this euphoria, senses entwine, / A universe of pleasure, divine. / Body and soul in passion's embrace, / A fleeting moment, love's sweet grace."
Midge is grateful for the cuddling after such a strong orgasm, and she buries her face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck. She’s very aware of his prominent erection and will be glad to take care of him, but first she needs a moment or two.
After he recites those verses, Midge hums against his skin. “I need to introduce you to Shakespeare,” she murmurs.
"Now that name I recognize. It's the first one everyone mentions when I explain I'm a bard. I've been going through his work." He rubs Midge's back while he talks, glad to have Literature as a topic to distract him from how needy he feels right now. "But I'd love to get more recommendations for you. I think you can learn a lot about a person through the stories they like."
She leans back just a little so that she can look at him. It’s clear that the two of them have a fondness for each other and a connection that goes beyond the physical. Midge hopes that they will be friends, at least.
“I studied Russian Literature in college. Not sure if you’d like those stories; they’re rarely happy.” She absently strokes the hair on his chest. “My favorite Shakespeare play is ‘Much Ado About Nothing’. Maybe I can find a local production for us to go see.”
Midge gives him a long, slow kiss. “That… was amazing. I’ve never come that hard in my life.” Her body still feels tingly in the aftermath.
"I don't know what Russian is, but watching a play together sounds like a fantastic idea."
After they have that conversation, though. They keep bringing up ideas that require them to have that talk now instead of Friday, but they keep getting distracted. Like the delightful kiss Midge gives him now. Jaskier happily kisses back, a little needy whimper escaping him in the process.
"It's a sin that you never were able to explore such a thing - but I can't deny I'm feeling rather proud, smug, and honored at the moment." A wink. "You're an artist. You bring pleasure to your public every day. You deserve to get as much in return."
“Thank you, handsome.” Midge gives him another kiss. “I’ve been masturbating since I was a teenager, but I never knew about the inside part.”
She turns in his lap so that she’s straddling him again. “Maybe when I touch myself like that in the future I’ll think of you.” Another kiss, before she reaches for the box of condoms. “Would you like that?”
Handsome, huh? Glad he's getting some compliments back, but he can't comment on it because he's kissing her again. No complaining, though. When she turns in his lap, he can't stop the groan any longer, a noise full of both need and frustration - especially when she says that. Talk about feeding his ego.
"My, my - such a promise... I'm starting to think you like torturing me." His hands fall on her thighs, slowly making their way up and then around to squeeze her butt. "I've created a monster." And he loves it.
“You love it, Dr. Frankenstein,” Midge retorts. “That’s another book you should read.”
He’s made her feel so good today that he deserves the ego boost. Before pulling a condom out of the box, Midge remembers something from earlier that he seemed to enjoy. She puts the sticky fingers that were inside of her up to her lips, slowly sucking her index finger all the way into her mouth and then out again. She offers him her middle finger to suck on while she gets a condom with the other hand.
Her fingers licked clean, Midge tears open the condom package and places the condom at the tip of his cock. “Let’s see… you made me come three times today.” She rolls the condom down his cock. “Do you think you can make it four?”
"That one rings a bell. Write it down later." And he means it. He truly wants to know what kind of art she likes.
His nails accidentaly dig into her skin while he watches her suck her finger, cursing under his breath at the sight. He said earlier that her mouth would look wonderful around his cock, and the mental image hits him really hard now. Before he can ask about their next position, Midge is offering her finger, and who is he to say no? He takes it into his mouth with clear expertise, sucking on it and licking the tip with gusto. It's not hard to guess what he's practiced on.
Jaskier gasps when she touches his cock, and the hand rolling the condom down makes him body shiver. He needs release immediately. "Four? Rookie numbers, my lady." He grabs his dick and teases her entrance, but he doesn't push in. "I believe you promised me a ride."
She would like to give him a blowjob in the future, but that’s not for today. They need to leave some things to look forward to. He sucks her finger so erotically that it sends a fresh wave of arousal through her. Her cunt is wet and ready for him.
“Oh really?” She teases. “I guess that means the goal is five next time.”
No more teasing. Midge sinks down on his cock with a moan and begins to rock her hips back and forth on top of him.
Next time. They keep bringing that up, too. And Jaskier wants it. He just hopes things go well on Friday.
He throws his head back to let out a really loud moan when she sinks down without warning, proving once again how feisty she is. It'll be easy to teach her to be shameless, he realizes.
Jaskier wraps his arms tightly around her, fingers digging into her skin as his face buries in her neck. He pants and groans with every movement of her hips, his own body trying to thrust in return to meet her. This is her fourth round and she's still so fucking wet for him, that alone is madenning. She's tight, and warm, and just perfect, making every inch of his body tremble with pleasure.
The nails of one hand dig into his back as the other goes between their writhing bodies to find her clit. Jaskier has been so aroused for so long that she thinks he’s too distracted to touch her at the moment. Her fingers flick fast circles in time with her movements and she moans softly for him. Her breasts bounce against his chest, her hard nipples giving her added stimulation.
Midge has never come this many times in one session before. She tries to relax her mind and focus on the pleasure, how good he makes her feel, in order to bring herself back up again.
"Like what?" he replies, attempting to sound cheeky too, but mostly panting between thrusts. "Your voice? Yes." He captures her mouth in a short, clumsy kiss. "Your tits? Yes." He buries his face between her breasts, rubbing his nuzzling and dropping a few open-mouthed kisses. "Your cunt? Fuck yes." He thrusts extra hard then. "So wet for me still. So eager and needy. How many times would you let me fuck you in a day, I wonder?"
It's then that he finally notices her hand on her clit. He grabs it by the wrist and takes it to his mouth so he can suck on her wet fingers while his own hand takes the place between her legs.
Midge lets out a squeal when he thrusts up hard. She’d be more embarrassed by the noises that she’s making if everything didn’t feel so damn good. She smiles when he moves her hand, leaning into his touch and relishing the sensation of her fingers in his mouth.
“As many times as you want if you keep making me come like that,” she pants. “Your cock feels so good.”
Her knees dig into the bed as she rides harder, tightening her walls around him with each stroke out.
He grins at the compliment. Women often call him things like "handsome" or "creative", but actually talking about his cock? That's new. More proof of Midge's lovely mouth being a feisty little thing that will tell you exactly what she thinks, which he's truly attracted to.
"I hope you know a good hotel, then." Because there's no way they'll be able to have a sex marathon in either of their houses. Yennefer has given him a potrective charm for his room and that works for quick fucks, but Midge deserves food and a shower. Not to mention fucking in other surfaces.
It's hard to keep talking when she's tightening around him like that. Jaskier cries out as he tries to keep up with her rhythm, his thumb taking care of her clit as they move in perfect sync, artists trained in the dance of pleasure.
(He refuses to finish first this time. He has a reputation to maintain.)
He’s both handsome and creative, but Midge has no complaints with his cock, and that’s what happens to be pleasing her at the moment. It’s a perfectly wonderful cock, and she thought she ought to tell him so.
“I’ll find one.” If they’re going to continue meeting like this, they’ll need a hotel. There are too many people in her apartment to use it on a regular basis. They just happened to get lucky this afternoon.
Midge can tell that he’s trying to have her come first this time, which might be a challenge considering how strong her last orgasm was. She helps him out by slowing down her pace. Her eyes slide closed and her lips go to his ear.
“Tell me how my cunt feels… how it tastes…”
She needs a little more than physical stimulation in order to come this time.
His whole body shivers when she speaks into his ear, a little whimper coming out of him - he's a musician, he likes sounds, and her voice is lovely, especially when she's speaking through her own moans. She slows down her pace and Jaskier immediately copies her, always making sure to be an attentive lover.
"Piquant. Rich. Aphrodisiac." Poetry is harder when his cock is deep inside her like this. He drops kisses on her chest, neck, and shoulders, giving his brain a pause to think. "Madenning. Addictive. I could drink you for dinner like a fresh pint of ale. Spread you open on a table and just feast."
She lets out a shuddering sigh. Midge likes words and Jaskier is full of them. It’s delightful to be with someone who has such a way with words and knows how to use them in order to turn her on. It’s working. She can feel her pleasure rising and wonders if he can tell.
“Yeah? How long could you keep your head between my legs? How many times could you make me come?”
It doesn’t have to be poetry. It can be pure filth and she’ll lap it up.
He can't help but chuckle before he returns the favor by talking directly to her ear.
"Midge," he whispers with the naughtiest tone he can achieve. "I'm a singer. And I dance while I sing. My lungs are strong and capable of going through lots of exercise." Another pause as he tries to think of a song to prove his point.
"♫ Splayed halve, Spread wide, Honey pooled within a pitless center. ♫" It's not his best singing, to be fair - they are still fucking after all. Every time she moves, it gets a moan out of him. But he thinks that the fact he can sing at all while never fogetting about her clit is still impressive. "♫ Pinkish flesh glistened in wet; The perfuming scent of her glistening nectar. ♫"
Midge can’t believe that he’s singing a dirty song to her while they fuck. It’s absolutely helping though. She moans out her appreciation for his voice, his fingers, his cock.
“Yes… it’s all for you. You make me so wet, so…” Another sweet moan as she quickens her pace again, chasing the orgasm that is rapidly building inside of her. “I’m going to come for you.”
"So wet, so sweet." He picks up the pace with her. "Come for me, darling."
His hands fall on her waist to help her ride along while his face falls on her breasts again, having learned how much she likes it there. There are no more words, just the music of their moans as both their bodies desperately hunt for that wonderful little death.
Midge closes her eyes, little gasps of pleasure dropping from her lips. Her body stiffens and then the orgasm blooms inside her like a flower. She shakes with ecstasy, not holding back her cries.
“Jaskier!”
Slumping forward, she rests her forehead on his shoulder as she keeps rocking her hips on top of him, squeezing her cunt around his cock and waiting for his release.
Hearing his name cried like that does plenty to his arousal, but Midge is also an attentive lover and keeps rocking her hips to help Jaskier reach his end, too. He thrusts one more time before she squeezes around him and he finally lets go, moaning her name and clinging to her as waves of pleasure hit every fibre of his being. For a few seconds, he sees and feels nothing but the stars of poor elation.
Once he's come through, he falls back on the bed, bringing Midge with him for the obligatory cuddling. Soon he's humming again.
The sound of her name from his mouth as he comes is beautiful. Midge looks up so that she can watch his face in ecstasy. She likes making him come, making him happy.
They cuddle close on the bed, Midge smiling at the fact that he’s humming again. She kisses him sweetly, brushing his hair out of his face.
Her touch is so sweet and soothing. Jaskier could see himself just hanging out with her to relax, touch each other while appreciating art. He returns the kiss with a smile on his face, basking in the sensitive tingling on his skin as their bodies brush.
"Me too. And I would love to do this again. Multiple times." A pause as he considers some options while rubbing her back. "I said before that we could talk on Friday, but since the subject of 'next time' keeps coming up, well- I don't know how stable your post-orgasm brain feels to do so at the moment."
She props her head up on her hand and looks at him. “We can talk.” Midge feels good. Satisfied, but not completely brain dead. She strokes a hand over his chest, gently fingering his tuning fork necklace.
Even if she already said so before, it still makes him happy to hear that she wants more of him. Which is why this conversation is important. He wishes he could leave it for later because it's such a sweet moment - he just wants to sing for her while she plays with his chest.
But he knows that if he postpones this, it'll be worse. He's already dealt with enough scorned lovers to learn his lesson. He sighs as he considers how to approach this.
"In many opportunities, Geralt has called me a hedonist. And I can't exactly deny it. I like enjoying myself. I like my freedom, I like fun." His hand never stops rubbing his back while he looks at her directly in the eye, hoping she can see he's serious but also how much he wants her. "That means I don't do relationships. Romantic ones, I mean. Tried once - well, twice, same person. She wanted a husband at home. I wanted to see the world."
The Countess of Stael also had an issue with his feelings for Geralt, but Jaskier doesn't think that's relevant.
"Friendships I do appreciate, and you'll find me extremely loyal. The three crazy immortals at home can attest to that. So if you want just a friend who can support you through your career and go shopping with, you can count on me. If you want a-- what is it that they call it here?" A second to think. "Friend-with-benefits? I can be that, too. Either choice would please me greatly. But if you want courting, I'm afraid that's not an option." His hand finally leaves her back to cup her cheek. His eyes soften. "If you don't want to see me ever again, that would hurt, because I've enjoyed your company, fucking or not fucking. But I'd respect that as well."
Maybe she’s still a little too come-drunk, but she wasn’t expecting him to say all of that. None of it is surprising though. Midge isn’t naive enough to think that Jaskier saw her and fell instantly in love with her. She’s not in love either. It was clear from speaking with people at the club that he enjoys having fun with as many people as possible.
Still, there’s a little stab of hurt in her chest. He doesn’t want me. I’m not good enough. Midge quickly tries to dismiss it. Those are her own insecurities after the failure of her marriage. Jaskier not wanting to be in a relationship doesn’t have anything to do with her.
She takes a deep breath before speaking. “Thank you for telling me that.” Midge wonders what the woman who wanted him to settle down was like. “To be honest… I don’t know if I want a romantic relationship either. After Joel…” She trails off for a second. “Besides, I have my career. That’s where my focus should be. That and my kids.”
“But, I would really like it if we were friends, and I’d also like it if we did this again.” She laughs lightly. “At the risk of sounding like a repressed housewife, this was… incredible. I really needed this.” Midge feels so relaxed that she could probably sleep for hours. Orgasms are great stress relief.
She gently drags the tines of the tuning fork over his chest. “You would do this again? When I need you? Or you need me?”
He’ll probably need her far less, as he’s got any number of lovers, male or female. Midge doubts that she’ll be sleeping with anyone else.
"Family and a career," he replies as he nods, tone full of understanding. "We have the same priorities."
His face beams when she agrees to be her "special" friend and he chuckles along to her comment. Taking care of repressed housewives is his specialty, but considering the Joel thing, better not bring that up.
"You honor me with your friendship," he answers before kissing the top of her head. Hearing her next question, he happily laughs and turns his body to drop her on the mattress. "We'll do this again, and again, and again--" Each word is punctuated by a kiss to different spots on her face. "--and again, until you can't walk anymore. Because you need me, or because you're horny, or simply because it's fun. We don't need a reason to have fun." He winks. "You have my number. And if you contact me while I'm in a swamp with Geralt in the middle of nowhere, then I'll gladly describe what I'd do to you on text. You know what to do with your hand now."
It’s hard to find a man whose priorities align with yours. Midge locks that revelation away for now.
She gasps in delight when he rolls her over onto her back, giggling as he kisses her. Despite her mouth and her stubbornness, Midge is decidedly feminine. Having a handsome man on top of her, kissing her, after he gave her four incredible orgasms, is going to produce some giggles. She can’t even be ashamed of it.
“I do. I’ll practice next time I’m in the tub. Also, I want to hear all about the adventures that you and Geralt have when—“
She’s cut off by the slamming of the apartment door.
“Miriam?” Her father calls. Then: “What’s all of this?”
Midge’s eyes go wide and panic grips her chest. “Shit!” she hisses.
There's nothing to be ashamed of. Jaskier loves making people happy, and her giggling is delightfully adorable.
Midge's eyes aren't the only ones that go wide when they hear Abe's voice. Repeating fuck over and over, Jaskier immediately gets off her and runs to the window to check if they're at a jumpable height. The building is too high, but there's a fire escape, and that's another thing he likes about this world.
It's clear that he's had to run from angry families in the past, be protective fathers or cuckolded husbands. He gathers the few clothes he can find and dresses very quickly while talking in panicking whispers.
"Pleasepleaseplease tell me you can retrieve my things?!"
“Coming Papa!” Midge calls, hurrying to grab her robe and wrap it around herself.
She lowers her voice to talk to Jaskier. “Yes. Just stay in here and try to keep quiet. You can leave through the fire escape.”
Midge leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Abe stands in the hallway, a look of confusion on his face. “Miriam, why is all of this stuff here?” He asks. “This isn’t a landfill to just dump your things in.” He looks up at her. “Are you feeling well?”
Go with it, she thinks, realizing that her face must be flushed and her hair a mess. “Oh, no, Papa,” she groans. “I got home from shopping and just… I felt so weak, I just dropped the bags and got into bed. I’m sorry.”
Quickly, she picks up her shopping bag and Jaskier’s, then turns to his doublet lying in the hallway.
“What is that?” Abe asks.
“Oh,” Midge replies, “that’s one of Ethan’s coats.”
“Ethan has a coat like that? With brocade?” Her father’s tone is skeptical. “It looks way too big for him.”
Midge picks it up casually, trying to stay calm. “Brocade is in for boys. They’re calling it the bard look. I always buy his clothes big, you know how fast he’s growing.”
“And the lute?”
Midge freezes. Jaskier’s lute is carefully propped up against the wall at Abe’s feet. Midge gingerly backtracks to retrieve it. “Also Ethan’s,” she says.
“Ethan has a lute.”
“Yes,” Midge insists. “I told you, the bard thing is huge right now.” With all items in her arms, Midge scurries back toward her bedroom. “Papa, I really feel lousy, I’m going back to bed, okay?”
She closes the door to the bedroom behind her and leans back against it, letting out a deep sigh.
Once Jaskier is dressed up, he opens the window as carefully as possible, feeling grateful that all the talking may cover up the noise. He sits on the edge of the window and waits, having no choice but to cover his mouth to stop his laughing. This has to be the most ridiculous conversation, and he loves it.
When Midge enters the room, Jaskier walks toward her and takes his things while whispering, "Lying to your father for me while naked under your robe. You're lucky we just finished, or I'd have another hard-on right now."
Jaskier finishes putting on the rest of his clothes and hangs his lute on his back, but he doesn't leave quite yet. He puts his arm around Midge's waist and brings her close for a short but still very deep kiss. "Talk to you later? I'm still not sure what the device etiquette is."
Midge wraps her arms around him and enjoys the kiss. “You can text me if you miss me, handsome,” she whispers back with a wink. “I’ll see you at my show tomorrow night?”
She’s looking forward to hearing what he thinks of her comedy.
"Winking fits you," he teases. A nod. "I'll request to change my schedule at Elftown, but I may still be a little late. So wait for me, alright?" He kisses her nose. "Bye for now, darling."
Escaping through windows is something he's used to, but he's never had to do it with a bunch of shopping bags before. Thank the gods for the fire escape. He only gets to walk two blocks before he realizes something.
Soon a text arrives on Midge's phone.
I promise I'm not being clingy, but I find myself in a little dilemma: we never did make-up, and if I return home with gifts for only half of the family, I may lose my cock. Would you mind recommending something for violet eyes? And the creams for my skin, since we're at it. I still have some kohl, but if you want to explain how to replace it now, I won't complain.
jaskier trying to teach Ethan to play the lute would be a disaster
Midge watches him climb down the fire escape, waiting to make sure that he ends up safely on the ground. She waves at him, then closes the window.
After flopping onto her bed, Midge sighs as she looks at the ceiling. Being friends with benefits with Jaskier is for the best. He’s not the type to settle down, and maybe marriage isn’t for her anyway. Her first marriage ended in disaster.
The ping of her communicator breaks her thoughts and she grabs it to look at the message.
Well, I can’t have you losing your cock, not after I’ve come to like it so much.
There’s a drug store on the corner where you can pick up some makeup and face cream. It’s not the same as B Altman but we can go back another day. For you, you’re going to want black eyeliner.
Thank you. You're a lifesaver. And cock saver as well.
For the rest few hours, he concentrates on finishing his shopping and finding the right subway to get home. It isn't until he's at home in a warm bath that he texts Midge again. He's really getting to like how these devices always get him someone to chat with.
Nothing like coming home to your best friend's judgmental stare because he can smell your sweaty activities.
A few hours later, the rest of Midge’s family returns home and she has a miraculous recovery from her illness. Fortunately, her father doesn’t say anything in front of her mother. Sometimes he’s good at keeping a secret.
After dinner, Midge is helping Zelda bring the dishes into the kitchen when she gets Jaskier’s text. She excuses herself and scurries into her bedroom.
Why so judgmental? Is he not getting enough?
Also, that’s kind of unnerving that he can smell things like that.
Can he smell that Midge was the one that Jaskier was with?
Oh, trust me, he's getting plenty. He just has lots of opinions about my "hedonistic philosophy". To be fair, today he was probably annoyed because I didn't shower before coming home.
Jaskier sips some wine and almost chokes at the rest of the comment. He's forgotten what Geralt's abilities are like to new people.
I used to believe so too, but after two decades, I'm used to it. I'll admit I wasn't precisely happy the first time I realized he knew if I masturbated while we camped, but nowadays it's fun seeing him use it on others.
You don’t have any special abilities? Just your golden voice?
You can have a shower next time. I remembered that Ethel and Irving Goldberg left me a key to their apartment in Midtown in case I ever need a place to stay after a gig and it’s too late to come all the way home. They’re friends of my parents’ from temple and they travel a lot. They’re gone more than they’re here.
I’ll bet that was an awkward way to find out that he could smell sex.
Alas, no, I'm a mere human with youthful looks, a golden voice, and a great ability to rhyme. I'm guessing you're fully human too, correct?
Friends with double housing, huh? She really has money and friends on the same social status. Jaskier looks at the screen for a moment and hopes this won't bite him in the ass later. He's charmed ladies in courts and mansions, but only for one-night stands - not counting the Countess de Stael, and we know how that ended. Hanging out with Midge may mean being dragged into that circle again, just like he was a kid. He doesn't miss it.
That sounds absolutely perfect. It means I can bend you over the couch and the kitchen table without interruptions.
At that time, I was indeed mortified. Now, we've seen each other naked so many times, that day has become just another funny anecdote. Actually, I think it's funny, Cirila thinks it's gross.
Midge can’t help the sort of family that she comes from, and she’d be remiss if she didn’t acknowledge that her family’s money is helping her with her career in indirect ways (having childcare, not having to bring in a paycheck, nearly unlimited wardrobe). But Midge is the type of woman who is as comfortable drinking champagne at a gala as she is having a beer in a dive bar. She might actually be more comfortable in the latter. Those people are more fun anyway. Jaskier will soon learn that she doesn’t run in upper class circles very often.
Your cock is special, though I’d argue that your fingers are even more special.
Me? I’m a goddess.
Let’s try not to break any of their furniture.
I’m glad she liked it. My ex-father-in-law owns a garment factory and he lets me buy from him at wholesale prices once in a while. I’ll pick up a few more things for her. I’m sure it’s hard for her coming to a whole different world as a teenager and having to navigate hell - I mean, high school.
I shall add "magic fingers" to my lecture curriculum then.
Oh, of course! How could I not tell! A goddess that requires oblation in the form of sexual gratification may be the only organized religion I get behind.
That's incredibly generous of you. Thank you. Cirilla has been doing well. She was lost at first, and she still has a few bad days, but you know - typical stuff for her age. All in all, she's quite happy here. We were in the middle of a war at home, and she's been through some... things. It's one more reason on the list for why we don't want to go back.
I'll share all the stories you want. Although I shall warn you, if you think women have it bad here, at home, it was much worse. From what I heard about your history here, it seems it was the same when you had castles and knights around.
That takes him by surprise, but the shock is short-lived. He grins like an idiot before celebrating by drinking directly from the wine bottle.
Excuse you, my ego is nothing but healthy and boastful!
That said, allow me to return the compliment. It's not every day that I meet someone capable of matching me in wit. Being with another artist does make a difference, doesn't it?
She calls ‘em like she sees ‘em, Jaskier. There’s no denying his ego. And yet, he’s also undeniably charming and gracious. Midge wouldn’t have slept with him if he was an unbearable prick.
You do back up a lot of what your ego says.
I never knew it would, but it does. It… felt different with you.
Oh darling, didn't you hear yourself lying to your father? Haven't you seen your make-up and your clothes? You're a walking piece of art, and from what I gathered from your sense of humor so far, I'm sure your act will only confirm it.
You haven't been treated well, I'm afraid. The 'repressed wife' persona doesn't fit a wild soul like yours. We shall correct that as many times as possible. Your dressing-room mirror is already on the list, but anything else on your bucket list? I'm all ears.
I meant the story you managed to improvise on the spot - the "bard look" fashion. And you don't look nice, you look absolutely stunning.
Ah, but an act is an act! We may put part of ourselves in our art, but our presence on stage is still carefully curated. In private, I want you to follow your heart.
Oh, right. That was a bit of improv. Probably not my best either. Papa didn’t exactly buy it, but he didn’t want to press either. He’s mostly accepted that I’m going to live my own life from now on.
You’re right… though I never want to be seen as fake. I know people like that, who act one way on stage and completely differently off. I want my persona to still be me.
Well… not that you don’t already know this, but I really liked it today when you spoke such naughty things in my ear. I also liked it when you praised me…
That’s a little embarrassing. It’s easier to say over text rather than face to face.
I wouldn't say "curated" means the same as "fake". One means choosing what to show, the other one is lying about it. I really like that you're so true to yourself, though. It's refreshing.
An eager ear for the mouth that won't stop talking - we truly make a great pair. That's easy enough for me to fulfil (and indeed, praise is absolutely delicious). Anything else? Or is that the biggest thing the "repressed housewife" could think of?
Oh, I’m sure there are things I’ve never even thought of. I like the idea of you fucking me on every piece of furniture… what about in the shower or the bath?
We're definitely branding every piece of furniture in that apartment you mentioned. Does it have a music player? Since I discovered those things, I love the idea of fucking with music playing in the background.
The bath has also become a favorite in this world. Tubs are so spacious here. And the instant warm water! What a marvel! I think we may have fun grooming each other.
From behind - you mean just the position or the actual entrance?
Time to start a collection, then. Ethel and Irving will have to live with it. To be a proper home, it must be fucked in. Thoroughly.
He just pulled that out from his ass, but it's poetic and he'll stick to it.
Washing your hair, soaping you up, massages... you get the idea. I believe grooming is a whole different level of intimacy, don't you agree?
That's alright, the position shall be then. We won't do anything you don't want to. And as I said earlier, if you want to play with my spot, that's available too.
I don't see why we can't do both. Variety makes life more interesting. And that would make for another fun shopping trip. Only you, however? Wouldn't you like seeing me in something sexy too?
I think you could tell that I enjoyed that suit on you today. There’s something so hot about having sex with your clothes on… removing just enough so that you can be inside the other person.
Agreed! It's why I was dying to get under your skirt - besides the obvious reason. Sex with clothes on speaks of urgency and passion. Does that mean I should wear the blue suit tomorrow night?
Mayhaps? I've heard some rumors. But I tried on female lingerie and I can assure you, my lovely bottom looks spectacular in it.
What can he say? All those years walking next to Geralt have given him strong thighs and a perky butt. The next text has a bit of a delay because that last part is giving him quite a mental image.
You'll never lack attention with me, I can promise you that much. And I would love to see your private space backstage. For professional reasons, obviously.
Gods, Midge. You can't make me such promise while I'm naked in the tub imagining it.
Yes. Your girls have a very interesting wardrobe. And thank you! Your ass was gorgeous too, although I think I have a preference for your delightful breasts.
Hey, don't put yourself down like that. You're young and newly divorced. Now it's time to get to know yourself again. Try new things, explore a little - in every aspect of your life. And if by the end, you still simply want mind-blowing sex and worship, that's alright as well.
I'm sure we can think of something to do with that suit tomorrow, worry not.
Stop. I'm supposed to join my family for dinner soon.
Oh. That's certainly... welp. Jaskier doesn't expect anyone to be as slutty as him, but he already had two as a teenager. They've been joking about the whole "repressed housewife" deal, but now he truly is wondering how much her family kept her as a good little lady. Thank goodness Abe didn't find him earlier, because Jaskier doesn't think he could've kept his mouth shut for long.
Don't tell me you made it to your wedding night untouched.
Because that's a terrifying thought.
If you don't make a story out of your father almost walking on us, I'll eat my hat.
I didn’t. Joel was my first time, but we didn’t wait until the wedding night.
Midge has always been sassy, but she’s mostly been a good girl. She knew she wanted to wait to have sex for the first time until she found the man she wanted to marry. Considering what Jaskier said about the place that he comes from, he shouldn’t be surprised that she hasn’t slept with many people. Women here seem only slightly more free to make their own sexual decisions than they are on the Continent.
Still doesn’t mean that I have to mention your cock as part of it.
I’ll stick to stand up for now. I like performing.
I guess we do. I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.
It’s a practice where a baby boy’s foreskin is removed from his penis. Different cultures and religions here practice it, including Jews. It’s an ancient practice and it’s considered a rite of passage in the Jewish religion. It’s actually becoming more popular amongst non-Jews in the US because it’s considered more hygienic and can help prevent some venereal diseases.
All that to say, I had never seen an uncircumcised penis before I saw yours.
Alright, give him a second, he almost dropped the device in the water.
I actually know what you mean. Kind of. I didn't know the name, or the details. But I've met a few guys in Rainbow Road like that. It almost killed the night the first time I saw it, I was quite disturbed.
Eight days old. Fuck. Jaskier drank directly from the bottle again, this time to drown the mental image. He takes a moment to relax before writing again, not wanting to send this conversation to hell with just one message. He promised respect after all - but man, this is truly testing him.
Well, then. I'm glad my cock became the sample of what a complete man looks like.
Circumcised men are not incomplete. Both of the previous dicks that I experienced worked just as well as yours.
We may need to agree to disagree on this.
Midge has no regrets about circumcising her child; if she had another boy, she’d circumcise him too. It’s prescribed for Jewish men in the Torah. It just is.
Jaskier isn’t Jewish though and she doesn’t care if he’s uncircumcised. It didn’t stop her from sleeping with him. Differing views on circumcision would be a dumb thing to end this friendship over.
[ OOC: imagine if Abe had physically caught them and seen Jaskier’s dick and instantly known he wasn’t Jewish. Yikes. ]
Edited 2025-06-29 23:53 (UTC)
laughing so hard at the idea of Abe freaking out not because of the lover, but because of the dick
She agrees they'll see each other, yet the conversation ends far from well and it won't leave Jaskier's mind. Is it already oveR? It'd be a new record for him. He waits until the next day to write again.
Many a artist have pre-show rituals. Does that affect comedians too?
Admittedly, Midge wasn’t happy with what Jaskier was implying the previous night, whether it was supposed to be a joke or not. She wants to afford him some grace though. He’s an Otherworlder, and even she can see how someone with no concept of circumcision would find it alarming. Therefore, when he texts her the next day, she’s no longer upset.
You mean other than downing a martini?
I guess the only ritual that Susie and I have is that we tell each other ‘tits up’ before I go onstage. What about you?
A sigh of relief escapes his lips as soon as he sees her text. Thank goodness things are fine.
"Tits up"? Oh, I love this. Absolute perfection. Confident, encouraging, AND sexy! A threat on all fronts.
Me? I down a drink sometimes, too, but those got rarer with the years. (Rarer before a performance, I mean. I'm still an avid drinker.) If Geralt is around, I send him to sniff the audience, then I know what to expect.
He has something with his fingers since they got burned during torture, but he doesn't want to talk about that.
I'm well. Getting ready to spend most of the day arguing with a bunch of old men about what counts as "fair payment" for magical services. And you?
The uncut dick was too good for her to quit talking to him
His "clan" is the wolves, so close enough. He can sniff tons of stuff, like level of intoxication, and you already know about the arousal. He can get an idea of the general mood, too. His ears are as good as his nose, so he picks up important bits of conversation, in case there's something I shouldn't sing about.
On behalf of the family. Geralt and Yennefer aren't the most social or pleasant people, so I do all the talking and negotiation. (And damage control.) Cirilla sometimes helps them, but we've been trying to keep her in school.
I'm afraid I shall be on the side of your children - lounging in your underwear can be quite relaxing.
You've only seen the beginning of what my tongue can do.
Do you actually need them for the errands? Because this little pants problem can be easily solved without stress by leaving the kids at home. You have free nannies after all.
Despite their disagreement, Midge was still thinking about his tongue, his hands, his (uncut) cock. Being with him was one of the best sexual experiences that she’s ever had. Of course she wants more.
I’m in my bedroom, so I’m safe.
Duly noted, thank you. Yellow like your namesake, my sweet Buttercup? And blue like your beautiful eyes?
Well, well. That sure is a lot of flirting. Jaskier wasn't expecting all this from her, especially not this early in the morning - maybe a few hours before the gig, and started by him. He really caused an impression, huh? Again: not going to complain.
Yellow like the sunlight reflecting on your smile, and blue like your eyes in the middle of an orgasm.
The first time, my eyes were too busy on your lovely cunt. But the other three? Oh, what a gorgeous shade of blue they were, full of passion and pure bliss.
Kind of? I spent my winters in Oxenfurt, so I would spend those few freezing months giving lectures. Guest staff, if you will. When my career took off they did offer me a permanent position, but I enjoyed traveling more. I had a vague idea of accepting the offer when my legs couldn't carry me anymore, however plans have changed. Since I'm here now and all.
I'm going to say this as affectionate as possible: every time I learn something about your father, he sound even more boring.
That makes sense. I saw books at the library that apparently list names for new parents? Should I get you one?
That’s where you’re from, right? Oxenfurt? I don’t blame you for wanting to see the world and perform while you’re still young. What did you lecture on? Poetry? Music?
He’s one of the most boring men alive, and I love him dearly.
That might inspire me, thank you. I need names that would be good for twins.
Is he originally from Oxenfurt? No. Is he going to correct her? No. He wasn't born there, but it became his home after he left Lettenhove.
Oxenfurt is home. The whole city lived off students, researchers, and scholars. So you could consider it the capital of art and progress. Indeed, poetry and music were my main subjects. I also tried to tell the youngsters what the real world is like, but the dean didn't always like that.
Do they have to be human names? Your tits would make great Carnadhiel and Tarathiel.
Yes, they do. I think it's been helping me and Cirilla blend in because we don't sound like otherworlders, but there isn't much we can do about Geralt's and Yennefer's eyes.
He sounds wonderful. I'm glad to hear you still think of him years later. It's powerful to leave an impact on someone's life.
Dried blood, like scars, can equal survival. A celebration of pushing through. But I understand.
Does Yennefer know who Elizabeth Taylor is? She’s an actress. People say her eyes are violet, but I think they’re really just a unique shade of blue. Yen’s are much more bold.
As for Geralt, not much he can do about that color, other than to argue that it’s a shade of hazel. A beautiful one.
And before you protest, yes, Jaskier, your eyes are beautiful too.
Anyway. Maybe someday you’ll get to go to England. The United States used to be an English colony.
You really like those names, don’t you? Is it because my favorite color is red?
I'll look the name up, but yeah, Yennefer's are truly violet, not just a trick of light. Heads up: don't shorten her name, only Geralt gets to do that.
I wasn't going to protest against a compliment I agree with. However, I will protest about your choice of shade. They're amber! Like a black cat.
I'd love to travel around this whole world, too. I want to get on those plane things. Flying must be such an amazing experience.
Oh, it wasn't about the names, they were just a random idea. It was about our perception of "morbid".
I like the sound of Professor Jaskier. We may revisit that in the future.
Good luck with the Great Pants War. See you tonight.
Arguing with a bunch of old men is as frustrating as he expected it to be. Perhaps even more, because they're bigots even though they don't know what a witcher is. It's insane. The thought of performing tonight and seeing Midge is what keeps him moving through the day.
He gets the second spot at Elftown, and it's a success as usual. The local elves have quickly taken a liking to him thanks to the songs defending their people he'd written back in his world. Some experiences are universal, and that's very poetic, but at the same time, it's depressing that the experience happens to be a race war.
All in all, he's in a great mood, and he wants to share this high with his new friend. He decides to do a little extra spending to keep the night going, and instead of taking the subway, he pays a taxi driver to go a little faster than allowed. Which turns out to be almost as fun as Geralt's bike.
He makes it to the jazz club right as Midge is walking on the stage, thank goodness. As much as he'd love to see her up close, he's afraid he may distract her, so he sits at the back and asks for a glass of wine. On the chair next to his, he drops his leather satchel, his lute, and a bouquet of roses - mostly pink and red, but also one blue and one black in the center, courtesy of certain witch's magic.
The blue suit is on - it's supposed to be a date, after all, and she seemed to like it so much. He's put on a yellow tie and bought a yellow pocket square to match. Both have gold touches for that extra spark. His hands have a few rings as usual, and he's added a button closure chain to the suit jacket as the final touch. The eyeliner Midge recommended frames his eyes, which currently follow every move of hers.
Susie can tell that Midge is fidgety before her set, though she doesn’t know why. Midge doesn’t give her any hints. It’s been a busy day. After finally managing to get her kids to act civilized, she went out to complete her errands, which included a stop at the store where a lot of the girls from The Wolford get their costumes. A few purchases were made and then dropped off at the Goldbergs’ apartment along with other necessities for the evening and a bottle of wine. Planning complete, Midge went home, did the handoff of the kids to Joel, and then got ready for her gig.
She’s wearing the new magenta Dior dress that she got yesterday. Susie grumbled something about it not looking good with the lighting but Midge shushed her. She keeps looking out into the audience for Jaskier, though it’s dark and crowded. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if he stands her up? Midge hopes that he’s the type of man who keeps his word, otherwise whatever this is between them will end before it really even starts.
When Midge takes the stage she puts all of that aside. She’s electric, as usual, trying out a few new jokes that go over well. About 5 minutes in, she finally notices Jaskier at a table in the back and grins. Then, she’s all professional for the rest of her 30 minute set.
After taking her bow, she meets Susie over by the bar. Nerves grip her again. She knows that Susie and Jaskier are about to meet for the first time. Maybe she should have told him to wait until Susie left before approaching her. Midge can see him walking towards her with a bouquet of flowers.
Jaskier sees that grin and winks. He isn't sure if she can see such a little gesture, but it's the thought that counts.
He's glad he's put on the blue suit, because she's left the black behind and is looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. The "testing" they did at the mall in front of the mirror is becoming a reality, he realizes.
Midge is electric, feisty, honest, and absolutely hilarious. Jaskier laughs at every joke and is happy that "witty" has become his nickname for her, because she deserves it. Honestly, the act ends too soon - Jaskier is left wanting more.
He gives Midge five minutes with Susie before approaching her. Usually, he'd be understanding of post-show rituals, but they talked about sharing their mutual high, and he wants that for their date. (Besides, he wants to meet Susie.)
"Congratulations, my witty lady," he says as he gives her the flowers. "You were as hysterical as your reputation promised."
There’s color high in her cheeks and a grin on her face when Jaskier approaches. She tries to hide it for Susie’s sake, but it’s beyond her control.
“Thank you.” She takes the bouquet and lets her eyes rake over his outfit. He’s managed to take a modern suit and make it into something that suits his style without being outdated. He looks fantastic. “These are beautiful. Where did you find black and blue roses?”
Midge looks up and catches Susie’s eye. The other woman is silent, but the look on her face says it all: who the fuck is this?
“Jaskier, this is Susie Meyerson, my manager. Susie, Jaskier.” A beat. “We met in jail.”
Oh, look at those cheeks matching her dress. He has to use lots of self-control not to kiss them right there.
"Magic," he replies with a wink, wiggling his fingers.
Susie's look says it all, and if Jaskier had been younger, he'd find it intimidating. But after two decades of Geralt, Susie is nothing but a hissy cat. He still wants to make a good impression, though - mainly for Midge, but also because he needs contacts in the industry.
At the mention of jail, he can't help but shake his head as if scolding her, but it's clear he's just teasing, and he's amused by her comment.
"A pleasure," he replies with a bow. "Midge spoke highly of you - said you were the one to encourage her to pursue comedy. Allow me to express my gratitude, then, for sharing her with the world. You have a great eye."
Susie stares at him for a moment, taking all of him in. Midge doesn’t blame her. There’s a lot going on here. For Jaskier, that introduction was pretty subdued. He’s really reining it in.
“Seems like your eye’s on my client,” she replies. “She’s got a lot of gigs. I keep her pretty busy.”
“He’s a performer too,” Midge cuts in. “A musician.”
“Oh God,” Susie groans, then looks at Jaskier again. “Is that why you’re dressed like Liberace?”
"I don't know who that is, but if they dress like me, then I shall consider it a compliment." He tilts his head at Susie, raising an eyebrow. "Is it truly that surprising to see your beloved client befriending people who match her outstanding sense of style?"
Befriending sure is a way to put it. Jaskier winks at Midge as he leans against the bar. It's true, he's reining it in. Partly because of the whole "wanting to make a good impression" deal, but also because he isn't trying to hit on Susie. He doesn't think she's unattractive (she isn't!), he's just getting many Rainbow Road vibes in here.
"Midge and I have already discussed priorities, and ours happen to match: family and career. I just came running from my own gig, in fact." He puts a hand over his heart. "You have my word as a fellow artist that I want nothing but to see her shine. If she ever even thinks about missing a gig, I'll personally drop her on your lap through a magic portal."
“Boy, you’re a slick talker,” Susie replies. He may not be hitting on her (he probably knows he’s barking up the wrong tree there), but she’s sure that he’s completely dazzled Midge.
Of all the things Midge is, stupid isn’t one of them. Probably too emotional, in Susie’s opinion, and doesn’t always make the best choices when it comes to men, but still a smart woman. She’s allowed dalliances, and that seems like what this is. Susie can’t fault her for that.
“I get it,” Susie says to Midge. “You’ve got needs.” She turns her eyes to Jaskier again. Susie’s not sure if Midge has the right genitals to fulfill Jaskier’s needs, but there’s no way she’s bringing that up.
“He’s an Otherworlder,” Midge says in an attempt to explain. “He’s came here with people who can do magic.” She turns to Jaskier. “That portal thing sounds very convenient.”
“Fine,” Susie says. “I’m out of here. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” Her eyes move back and forth between Midge and Jaskier. “Afternoon.”
Susie wonders where they’re going to go to fuck, but that’s not really any of her concern.
A chuckle. "That definitely is a compliment." He knows it isn't, Susie isn't impressed - but he'd rather keep the mood playful. Besides, he's proud of being a slick talker.
Honestly, it's cute how protective of Midge Susie is, and Jaskier is happy that Midge has someone like her. When Susie makes the 'needs' comment, Jaskier immediately laughs - and that laughter gets louder when 'afternoon' is added. Oh, he likes this woman already.
"A wise correction." He inclines his head as goodbye. "Have a good night, Lady Manager."
As soon as Susie has taken three steps away from them, Jaskier turns to Midge with a big grin and kisses her cheek.
"You were fantastic on stage," he says while offering his arm, intending to take her to his table. "But I wonder if the flowers were a good idea. They look ugly next to you."
Midge rolls her eyes, but she’s blushing again. Of course Susie was able to work out the exact situation between Midge and Jaskier in under 5 seconds.
She puts her hand on Jaskier’s arm and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek as well. “Oh stop it,” she says, though she loves being complimented by him. “That suit looks incredible on you.”
Truly, the more she looks at him in it, the more aroused she gets.
As they walk to his table, Jaskier will probably notice looks from a few men in the club who thought they were going to shoot their shot with a beautiful comedian tonight. They weren’t expecting Jaskier of all people to block them and now they’re sulking into their drinks.
"I look incredible in everything," he teases. "But for this one, you need to thank the lady who picked it for me. She has impeccable taste."
Jaskier steals a chair from another table for Midge so he doesn't have to move his lute and satchel, and she has a place to put down her flowers during their date. One thing that often bothers Jaskier about these clubs is the tiny tables. It's like being at shitty taverns again.
While Midge orders her drink and some snacks to share, he scans the crowd out of habit and notices all the sulking. He smirks, feeling rather smug.
"It seems some of your fans are rather passionate about you."
He puts the chair down very close to his. Wise man.
Midge looks up from the menu in surprise. She has fans? Then she realizes what Jaskier is talking about. “It’s amazing that some men can listen to me complain about men for 30 minutes on stage and then still try to buy me a drink and chat me up afterwards.”
Orders placed, she turns to Jaskier again. “How was your show?”
"Half of them think you were just joking and didn't take it seriously. The other half think they're different enough to make you change your mind."
Jaskier won't mention the fact he'd be one of those men if he had met her like this. He sips his wine while casually leaning back, putting an arm on the back of Midge's chair just to mock those guys further. Oh, how smug he feels.
He beams at the question. "It was wonderful! Elves make for a great audience no matter the realm, it seems. They like the songs I wrote for their people back in my world, but after tonight, I've been thinking of changing them up a little bit. A reprise to fit their local troubles."
Don’t think she hasn’t noticed, Jaskier. He’s laying it on thick, as usual. The bard is lucky that she’s not interested in any of these men, especially because they might have something to offer her other than friendship and sex.
Also lucky that she’s not looking for much beyond that right now.
“What changes are you thinking of making?” She’s sure the Elves have troubles, but Midge isn’t so involved with the community as to know what they are.
She pick up the bouquet and gives it a sniff, smiling at the sweet scent. “Why a blue one and a black one?” she asks.
"I'll need to study their history to answer that question properly, but the idea is to include local historical events to replace those from my world."
It may take a while, but he has time. The family has already decided they don't want to go home. Hopefully this world will feel like home soon.
"I wanted to do something different, and those colors don't occur naturally. But they're also dark, and I wasn't sure if you'd like a full bouquet of them. So I kept your favorites and only added those two as a little extra magical touch." His hand gestures a lot as he speaks. "Also I don't know how many I could convince Yennefer of making."
Midge gently touches the petals of the black rose. It feels just like any other rose. “They’re beautiful,” she says, “but you’re right. I prefer more vibrant colors. The black is a bit morbid for my tastes.” She glances up at him. “Guess we’re back on that topic, Professor Jaskier.”
The waiter brings her martini and a plate with rumaki, pigs in a blanket and deviled eggs. Midge holds up her glass to Jaskier. “A toast? To new friends?”
He laughs at the mention of the topic. "If you want a date filled with philosophical discussion, you have the right bloke."
The food looks amazing, and Jaskier is hungry. He came right after his performance, so he hasn't snacked on anything since teatime. But he's a man with manners, and he'll never say no to a toast.
"To new friends, and new experiences." He winks as he taps his glass against hers, then he takes a sip of his wine. "You called that one a Martini, right? What is it exactly made of?"
It does make Midge wonder why they’re on a date at all. He said he isn’t going to “court” her. Aren’t dates part of courting? Unless this is a friendship date of some kind. There probably ought to be another name for something like that.
“L’chaim,” Midge replies, clinking her glass against his and then taking a sip. “Gin, vermouth, a twist of lemon and an olive for garnish.” She pushes the glass towards him in case he wants to try it.
"Sharing your glass with a man on the first date? Oh my." Obviously teasing, considering the places they've already put their mouths on.
Jaskier recognizes only the olives and lemon, although the other things do ring a bell. He still takes a sip, because he's always open to trying new things. It's just a little sip, not wanting to take much from such a small glass.
"That's kinda bitter, isn't it?" His nose is wrinkling a little. "I wouldn't have expected it from you. Makes for funny contrast against our conversation about vibrant and morbid."
She quirks a smile at him and watches as he takes a drink.
“Did you think that I drink fruity drinks?” she asks. Midge enjoys a good mai tai every now and then, but her go-to drinks are a martini or old-fashioned, depending on how the night has been.
First dates are normally shallow. Getting to know someone. No religion or politics, especially after their disagreement yesterday. This isn’t really a date though, is it? Not a date that’s going to go anywhere anyway. Why not talk about philosophy?
“Do you feel like those are opposites? Morbid and vibrant?”
He has a sweet tooth, and coming to this world has been a blessing. Everything has so much flavor! And chocolate? Mindblowing.
"That's actually a really good question." And he means that. He loves how smart she is. Good fucking isn't hard to find, but good companionship? That's a different deal. He munches on a pig-on-a-blanket while thinking about how to answer.
"I used those words because they came up in our conversation, so it was initially part of the teasing. But if we examine it closely, then-- it depends on the meaning we're going for. If it's only 'vibrant' as in the shade of a color, then no, they aren't opposites. Blood can be vibrant. The brightest green I've seen came from a monster." Not gonna detail what part of the monster, since it's disgusting and they're eating. "But 'vibrant' is also something alive, full of spark and energy. And in that case, then yes, it's the opposite of morbid. That said, a good story may have both. A good outfit may have a morbid touch and still be vibrant."
She smiles at his assertion about fruity drinks and then listens to his explanation while munching on a piece of rumaki.
“I think you’re right,” Midge replies. “That’s a good analysis. I guess the better question is if one is better than the other. Personally, I prefer vibrancy in most aspects of my life. There’s such a thing as having a morbid sense of humor, which I generally don’t think I have.”
"Oh, vibrancy is the superior choice, no question."
He tries the rumaki next, being his first time with that one. It's quite delicious, he'll have to ask for the name later.
"Geralt calls me a hedonist for a reason - I think enjoyment should always be the biggest part of our lives. And that's why I like you - because your vibrant preference matches mine. But that doesn't mean I completely turn down morbid. I have sad songs, infuriating songs. Songs about death and betrayal. Those matter too - we just need to keep an eye on the amount. Not let it take our happiness from us. Which is why people develop a morbid sense of humor."
A pause to sip his wine. "For the record, if morbid is the only humor someone has, then I shall agree with you - it's depressing. But being able to joke about the morbid is a useful skill. And I believe people in certain jobs develop it as a matter of survival. If they don't learn to joke about it, then the darkness will consume them."
Another pause as he looks at her, considering his options. "I'm not Geralt, but I can't deny that two decades on his side, in his line of work, have taught me that skill too. It's rare, since I turn to irony more than to morbid humor. But it may happen. And if it makes you uncomfortable, you just have to let me know".
Because Cirilla sure does like complaining about it.
A lot of what he has to say resonates with her. They really are more alike than Midge would care to admit, though she would like to think that her ego is not as large as Jaskier’s. Still, his confidence is attractive. It’s not all bluster.
“Morbidity and morbid humor has its place, and I think all of us have some of it inside of us. As annoying as it is when a person is depressed all the time, it’s equally annoying when they’re happy all the time. I’d argue that’s actually worse.”
Hunting monsters for a living means that Geralt has probably seen some horrible things. Midge supposes it must be like that for soldiers or cops who solve murders. Morbid humor at least injects some levity into a miserable job.
“I don’t mind if you’re morbid sometimes,” Midge says, “but if you start grunting at me I’ll have to snap you out of it.”
It's hard to find someone with an ego bigger than Jaskier's. And thank goodness for that.
"I don't know if I'd call it worse, but I do agree that the other extreme is equally bad. Having a good cry is as important as having a good laugh."
And speaking of having a good laugh: the mention of grunting makes Jaskier laugh pretty hard. Seeing people being comfortable around Geralt and even teasing him because they haven't learned witcher bigotry in this world is still amazing, and Jaskier loves it everything. Not to mention Midge is just a funny lady, obviously.
"Aww, but I make such a great impression!" He frowns in the most exaggerated way he can achieve, making his voice deep and raspy. "Mmmh. Jaskier, don't touch that. Mmmh. Stop putting your sausage in the wrong pantry. Mmh."
Fortunately, Jaskier comes off as so gregarious that his ego is seen mostly as confidence rather than bravado. Midge would like him significantly less if he was haughty and looked down on people.
She snorts a laugh at his impression of Geralt. “There’s a wrong pantry for sausage?” she asks.
Midge stares at him for a moment until it hits her. “Oh.” She’s never heard that particular euphemism before.
“Do you mean that I’m the right kind… because I’m a woman?” Midge asks.
She doesn’t know how Geralt feels about Jaskier sleeping with men. He did say that where he comes from is even less accepting than here in that regard. But then, would Geralt be Jaskier’s friend if he was judgmental about the bard sleeping with men?
Her face when she figures it out is adorable, and Jaskier wishes he could have a picture of it.
"Oh gods, no." He looks horrified by the idea of Geralt hating him for that. "He doesn't like it when my fucking gets us in trouble, that's all. For example--"
His lovers may be married people. Right. Not mentioning that.
"--it may be women who were supposed to stay 'pure' until marriage and are going against their father's wishes. Or high-society ladies who shouldn't be touching a 'dirty' travelling bard. I've had many angry fathers and brothers threatening to cut my cock off for 'sullying' the women in their lives. Men aren't the wrong pantry for being men, the wrong pantry is not being careful about my flirting. Not hiding it may mean trouble too. Dangerous trouble." His voice and face have turned more serious at the end. He reaches for Midge's hand and gives it a squeeze. "I was only able to talk to you about it because Brandon did."
“What’s to say our fucking won’t get you in trouble?” Midge asks with a little smile. “Or is it different with me because I’m already… ‘sullied’?”
Midge doesn’t like that implication, that a woman’s worth can be boiled down to whether or not she’s had sex and who she’s had sex with. She doesn’t think Jaskier buys into that bullshit, and she’s mostly playing devil’s advocate by asking him that question.
She can guess what her parents would think of him though. In a practical sense, he doesn’t have much to offer her other than sex and companionship.
He laughs again. Gosh, she's so good at doing that. If she doesn't become the most successful comedian of a lifetime, he'll be so mad at the world.
"You're an independent woman who is already breaking your gender rules and understands what I'm offering, instead of expecting me to bring more." He explains genuinely. Her smile shows she's teasing, but since they're touching a serious subject, it's not a bad idea to be clear about some things. "So you already are a more fitting pattern than probably three-fourths of the lovers I've had in the past. However, you're right, I can't be sure. You like trouble. And so do I." He winks. "Not to mention that your father would probably also want to cut my cock off."
“I do like trouble,” Midge admits. “Being a divorcee or widow does give a woman a certain kind of power. Society thinks we’re already used. There aren’t as many expectations, sexually.”
That’s why she’s seized this opportunity. When else in her life will she get to explore her sexuality for sexuality’s sake? Jaskier has no expectations of her and, for the most part, society doesn’t care who she’s fucking or why. Jaskier’s handsome, funny, clever and very good in bed. He’s the perfect person for something like this.
“He may want to cut your cock off, but he won’t,” Midge says idly. “Jews don’t cut all of it off anyway. Just the tip.”
Not to open up yesterday’s disagreement again, but Midge couldn’t resist the joke.
"And what a pile of crap that line of thinking is," he replies with obvious distate. "You aren't used. But I can't deny the power aspect, and it delights me to see you embrace it."
This is the first time a joke of hers doesn't land, and Jaskier eats some more to hide his lack of laughter. Not going to ruin the date by bringing up that argument again.
He only talks after taking another sip of his wine. "Does that mean I do have a chance of charming your mother?"
"Takes one to know one," he replies between bites. Thinking about the whole concept of meeting the parents makes him pause, and he has another bite before talking again. "I hope this isn't a bad question to ask, but I'm curious - a charming lady like you, how did you get along with your in-laws?"
Is this another thing he may be put Joel on the fucking stupid list?
‘Meeting the parents’ seems kind of unnecessary in this situation, unless one of them happens to catch she and Jaskier in the act. Midge prays that never happens.
“Oh, we get along well,” she replies. “My family and Joel’s family still do a lot together because of the kids.” She sighs. “I’ve… forgiven him for what he’s done, at least in so much as we can both raise our children together.” Fighting and bitterness wouldn’t be fair to the kids.
Oh, no, not the sigh. It breaks his heart. Jaskier brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles.
"I didn't mean to get you all serious, I just thought meeting the in-laws usually comes with funny stories. But I'm glad you're making it work for the kids." A long pause. He stares at his rings on his hand and the lute on the chair. "I haven't seen my blood family since I was 16. I may tell you the story some day, but for now, I only want you to be sure you know you're doing a fantastic job. I know broken, and you aren't it."
She uses the proximity of her hand to his face to gently cup his chin.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry about your family. When you want to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”
Midge wonders if he ever misses them. Even if they fought and said horrible things to each other, they’re still his family. She can’t imagine going that long without seeing her family.
Taking his hand, she examines the rings on it. “Did you buy all of these?”
After nodding, he nuzzles her hand, but doesn't say more. That one line was already a lot.
Her taking an interest in his jewelry immediately brings a smile to his face and he raises his other hand to show off those too.
"Some of them are from home, others I bought here. This one-" He takes off a wing ring and shows her the inscription inside. "--was a gift from the elves. That's Elder for 'sandpiper'."
"It was my 'underground' name," he explains while putting it back on. "While I was helping the elves flee Redania- ah, that's the kingdom where Oxenfurt is. They've always been persecuted, but when the war started, it got much worse. It got--" A sigh. "Sanguinary. And a bard makes for a very unsuspicious smuggler."
Her eyes widen when Jaskier tells her that. Hearing that Jaskier helped persecuted people escape, potentially putting his own life at risk, raises her opinion of him significantly. Maybe he’s not just a frivolous bard - though appearing to be one would be a perfect cover.
“Do you ever sing about your own heroics?” Midge asks somewhat teasingly, then leans up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"I may have to if this is the reward," he teases back. After a quick look around the bar, he leans in to quickly brush his lips against hers. Honestly, he doesn't mind PDA, but he knows that may cause a bit of a scandal, and he'd rather not get them kicked out (yet?).
At that moment, a band takes over the stage, playing the jazz music that represents this place. Jaskier offers his hand to Midge.
A little kiss won’t get them kicked out. Midge doesn’t mind the kiss either, though she doesn’t press to deepen it. They’re not a couple. It would feel strange to her to kiss him passionately in public.
“You may,” she tells him, putting her hand in his.
The song is mid-tempo, easy to dance to. They get into dance frame with Jaskier putting one arm around her waist. Their bodies are touching, though not pressed together tightly.
“What kind of dancing do they do where you come from?” Midge asks. “I guess not any dancing to music like this.”
It feels good to have her in his arms again. A beautiful lover in his arms, and fine music in his ears. This is what the great moments in life are about. Jaskier has learned at least the most basic and common dances found in clubs in this world, but he's sure that if he makes a mistake, she won't mind correcting him.
She's warm against him and he has to resist the urge to bury his face in her neck.
"It depends. At court, everything is more--" A second to remember the words he's learned here. "like waltz. But with more variety in the steps. If you want real fun, you join the festivals and the taverns for people stomping to the rhythm of folk."
Good to know he isn't the only one enjoying the touching and hungry for more. He presses her against him as the hand on her back goes lower, not crossing to her lower region but stopping right above it for the perfect teasing.
Of course she knows how to waltz - she probably had the same lessons he had. He's growing more and more grateful for having dodged meeting her father.
"How about swing? Do you know that one? I've been trying to learn. It looks vibrant-" A wink. "And so much fun."
He doesn't see the next question coming and he loses a step, almost tripping but recovering quickly. Calling women 'my lady' has always been a term of endearment (unless he was at court), and nobody ever threw it back at him after he left home. Even at court, they called him 'Master Bard'. It feels weird, as if he was a Pankratz again.
"I think I'll stick to Professor Jaskier. But I'd also love something that comes from Midge herself instead of my world."
She lets out a little breath when she can feel his hand just above the curve of her ass. Involuntarily, she presses her body to his. Being this close to him is awakening her desire for him and for what she knows awaits when they get to the Goldbergs’ apartment.
“We did a little bit of swing, but it wasn’t like you see in those films of people after the war being thrown in the air.” She was a kid, after all.
Midge puts her lips to his ear. “Oh you like Professor Jaskier, do you?” she murmurs. “I called you my sweet bard. I’ll have to think about what else might suit you.”
Knowing nothing about courtly manners (and Jaskier’s past), Midge had presumed that ‘my lord’ was the natural companion to ‘my lady’. She won’t call him that though if he prefers not to be.
Having pressing back sends a shiver down his spine, yet he doesn't expect her to suddenly have her on his ear. A gasp escapes him when she says sweet bard, feeling his insides melting.
"I like that," he responds with a husky voice before kissing her temple. Flirting and dancing are such a delicious combination of two of his favorite activities. "Should I come up with a few more nicknames too, my witty lady? Bewitching Thespian, mayhaps?"
She laughs softly, also feeling exhilarated by the dancing and their flirting. Those things are also on top of giving a successful performance and some alcohol. Midge is feeling euphoric right now, a feeling that will peak for her later on when she’s naked in Jaskier’s arms.
“I like ‘my witty lady’,” she says. “I’m more of a comic than an actress. ‘Funny lady’ is an option too, but I like ‘witty’ better.”
"I know, I know," he responds with an extra dramatic sigh. "But 'comedian' and 'comic' didn't sound very poetic. Had to improvise." And 'jester' would be simply wrong.
He moves them a bit faster across the dance floor, wanting to chase this fantastic high. When he finds enough room, he suddenly dips her with a laugh.
"I shall keep calling you 'witty lady', if that's your wish." He brings her back up. "I don't think Susie would like it if I call you Divine Curves in front of her."
Her laughter will always be music to his ears. He wants to keep her laughing all night long (among other things).
"Sweet handsome bard is too long, isn't it?" He teases back. Her next comment makes him laugh, too. "Divine as in superb, stellar, marvellous. I'm afraid you're too naughty for heaven." Another wink. "And I like it that way."
“It is,” she agrees. “I’ll use both of them, depending on what is warranted at the time.”
The song changes to a slower one and the two of them slow their rhythm on the dance floor, each trying to catch their breaths. Midge’s body is still pressed to his, her lips inches from his as she speaks.
“I know. You like it when I’m naughty. How are you going to try to corrupt me tonight?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Because I’m sure I’m going to love every second of it.”
Those lips being so close are such a tease, and he loves every second of it. Jaskier is all for spontaneous hook-ups in bars, but nothing compares to the build-up and anticipation.
"If I remember correctly, certain someone asked me to take her from behind." It's his turn to whisper in her ear, his pinky going just a little bit lower to tease her arse. "Would you like me to bend you over, Midge? To get you on your knees on the couch and let you stain the cushions? Will you display yourself for me?"
Midge exhales slowly, her eyes fluttering closed. The pictures he paints with his words are always so vivid. She can feel her pulse begin to race, the area between her legs starting to throb.
“Is that before or after I suck your cock?” Midge murmurs back.
A mumbled fuck escapes his lip when the mental image takes over his brain. The image of that lovely mouth of hers around his throbbing dick is hella erotic, and he can't wait to have her on her knees like that. Jaskier concentrates on the music to stay in the moment, not wanting to lose it quite yet.
"After," he replies after taking a moment to think about it. "You may help me take the edge off. Then I can slowly open you up with my mouth while I recover, and I shall last longer inside you. I'll pound into you until you're begging me to let you come."
She laughs breathlessly at his little curse, even though moments later she’s moaning too at the description of his head between her legs, his tongue in her folds.
“That sounds incredible,” Midge gasps. “I have something to wear for you as well.”
Several things, though she doesn’t plan on bringing them all out tonight. The rest of them will be for future encounters.
"Oh my," he exclaims with raised eyebrows, hunger already appearing in his cornflower blues. "Someone has gone shopping at a very naughty place. What was that like, Midge? What did you feel when the clerk looked at you, knowing what you're going to use your purchase for?"
Midge blushes at that question, even as she looks into his eyes and sees the desire there.
“She told me that she hoped I would enjoy myself. I felt… a little smug, because I think she was jealous.” A woman working in a store like that wasn’t judgmental, at least. “I was aroused thinking about your reaction to seeing me in the outfits.”
It’s truly not like any lingerie she’s worn before. None of them have a practical purpose. They’re designed to be removed quickly or languished over during a fuck. Midge hopes that Jaskier will like what she purchased.
Jaskier can't help laughing when Midge says she felt smug, but it's laughter in absolute delight. Oh, how he wishes he could've seen it.
"You were right to be smug, my witty lady. Look at you, being all naughty in public. I'm so proud." He kisses her cheek. "I can't wait to see you in those outfits - knowing your taste, they must be marvellous. But for now-" He guides them through a whirl before talking again. "-we shall finish our dance, and our drink, and our food. And I shall keep talking sweetly to you, because dates are perfect to build up anticipation. Makes the final result more... explosive." He waggles his eyebrows.
Midge catches his mouth with hers in a kiss, longer and more passionate than the first one. It’s impulsive, though the longer the two of them dance closely together and say dirty things to each other, the more aroused Midge grows.
“Has that been sweet talk?” Midge asks. “It’s sounded rather naughty to me.”
It's so impulsive that it takes Jaskier by surprise, but he doesn't hesitate to kiss back, pulling her body closer as he tastes the martini in her mouth. He bets there's lipstick on his lips now, and he plans to keep it there without an ounce of shame.
"Can something not be both erotic and sweet?" he asks with a tilted head, offering his best 'innocent' expression. Jaskier knows exactly what she means and she's right, but he'll always use words to turn things around in his favor. "Specially when you happen to taste so sweet. I could drink you like fresh ale."
He shouldn’t be so surprised, the way he’s turning her on. Surely Jaskier knows exactly what he’s doing to her.
“Maybe,” Midge replies, “but I think you knew what I meant. That innocent face is a pure lie.” She’s smiling. “What do I taste like, then? Candy? Strawberries?”
He gasps dramatically at the accusation. Before he can respond, the music comes to an end. Jaskier considers offering his arm as usual, but instead he keeps a hand on Midge's back to guide her back to their table, always teasing the top of her arse. So close, yet so far.
"Right now, your mouth tastes like alcohol. Which is very fitting, because kissing you is addicting." He then leans in to whisper, "Your cunt is pure honey - sweet, rich, and refined."
Jaskier is in the middle of biting an egg when Midge makes her comment, and he pauses in surprise. He'd put his hand on her back to keep on teasing her, so he doesn't quite get where she's coming from. It also makes him realize she isn't one to pick up other lovers, and he can't help wondering what that may mean. Not gonna worry about it as long as things stay cool, but it's a funny thing to notice.
He finishes his egg while considering how to answer - he doesn't want to lap it all up himself, he'd be very open to a third joining them for some fun. But he can't just say that. And while he isn't that kind of possessive man, he does like being a smug motherfucker when it comes to getting the wanted hottie in a bar.
When he feels her foot on his ankle, he grins.
"Look at you, getting more and more daring in public." He drops a hand on her thigh, taking advantage of the cover the table provides to rub it slowly. "I bet none of these blokes could handle how naughty you secretly are. They just want to put you in your place."
That assertion took him more by surprise than she had expected it to. Midge anticipated him saying yes, that he does want her all to himself, the hypocrisy of that not dawning on him. Perhaps he really isn’t the jealous type. That seems rare in a man, in a person.
She inhales and then exhales deeply as Jaskier rubs her thigh. “Maybe so. That’s why I’m selective.” Her brow furrows just a little. “I feel like you of all people don’t think it’s naughty to want pleasure, to be satisfied.”
They’ve joked about it, but Midge doesn’t feel as if she’s doing anything truly naughty. Society might consider it to be that way, but is there really anything wrong with two consenting adults enjoying their time together and finding pleasure with each other?
His eyes soften and his hand leaves her thigh to gently lift her chin instead.
"Oh, darling." He kisses her brow. "There's nothing wrong with wanting and pursuing pleasure. I like all the things you've shown me about yourself, I like that you've been finding a way to let go of what society has taught you thanks to the divorce and a career in the arts, I like that you've been finding your true self and you're embracing it. When I say that those blokes can't handle you, it means they're bloody idiots who can't handle greatness. Too wired by what is proper to enjoy what is wild. That's what I think about those who can't handle me either."
His hand next falls to her back, but this time it stays on the shoulder area, rubbing in a more comforting way.
"Language is complex, and oh, what a complex word 'naughty' is. I don't think being naughty is inherently wrong. Mischief is fun. I do use that connotation as part of the tease, however - it's part of the thrill. I just heard your act, know the topics you touched. Are you telling me you don't feel that thrill every time you go down the forbidden subject road? Do you not love the power to be 'improper' on stage?" He gestures the quotation marks. "You and I, like many an artist out there, know these things aren't actually wrong. But we bask in the feeling of doing what is considered wrong by others."
He looks directly into her eyes, wanting to be sure he isn't sending this date right into hell. "I'll stop using that word if that's your wish, but I want you to think about it and swear it's what you truly want. Because I'm willing to be you were as proud to be in jail as I was."
His words and touch are comforting to her and she leans into it, suddenly wanting that reassurance and warmth. He’s very good at giving it.
“I like you too, Jaskier.” It’s hard to find people that support her wholeheartedly; she can count their number on one hand. Midge believes that he cares for her too, even if he doesn’t wish to be in a relationship. She hopes that won’t complicate things later. For now, she greatly enjoys his companionship - and his penis.
“I do,” she admits. “I like shocking people. Sometimes it’s the only way to get them to pay attention. You don’t have to stop using the word ‘naughty’. We both know that the meaning of it is nuanced.”
Midge has never been on a date like this before, where she’s discussed the meaning of words and general morality. Usually the conversation is about work and family. She and Jaskier have spoken about that as well, but this conversation is so much deeper, more intimate in a way. Slipping a hand into his, she squeezes it.
He instantly beams when she says she likes him, happy to know they're having fun together outside of sex as well. Jaskier likes having lots of friends, of the fuckery variety or not. When she takes his hand, he returns the squeeze before raising it to kiss her knuckles.
"I won't lie, I'm relieved to hear that. I like using the word - and I like how rebellious you are. It's very inspiring." He winks, meaning he finds it a turn-on.
At that moment, the waitress comes with their second round of drinks. Jaskier has chosen a fruity cocktail this time, not too big - they can leave after they finish these ones. He raises his glass. "To being naughtily talented?"
Her face cracks into a smile. “I find you very inspiring as well.” She means it the same way that he does, though she’s interested to see him perform. He might be artistically inspiring too.
Midge picks up her drink and clinks it against his, giving an amused look at his colorful drink. “What did you order this time?”
"Piña colada sangría," he explains after taking a sip. "Wine, rum, and lots of fruit. It's been one of my favorites so far. There's also one called Pink Squirrel that is deliciously sweet, unlike actual squirrels."
He takes another sip and catches a cherry, but he doesn't swallow either. Instead, he leans in and kisses Midge, sharing his drink in a more fun way.
Midge’s eyes open wide when she feels him pass the cherry from his mouth to hers. She laughs, her mouth full of alcohol, her hand up in front of her mouth in case some accidentally leaks out.
After chewing and swallowing the cherry, she speaks. “I have a new word for you: incorrigible.”
When Jaskier pulls back, he's laughing as well. She always has the most adorable reactions.
"And you like it that way." He eats the other cherry whole, stem included. The munching seems to be taking longer than usual, and when he's done, he takes the stem and presents it to Midge to show off the knot he just made with just his mouth.
Midge sips her martini as she watches Jaskier chew. For a moment, she thinks there was something inedible in the drink. Then he shows her the knotted stem and she smirks at him.
“Show off. I already know that you’re an expert with your tongue.” Her toe goes further up his trouser leg. “Very much looking forward to having you show me all your tricks tonight.”
He catches his breath as that toe goes higher, his mind filling with mental images of their plans. Midge promised a blowjob and some new clothing, two things he's greatly looking foward to.
"I should be saying the same thing. Can't wait to learn how talented your mouth is off the stage." He tilts his head, hunger clear in his eyes. "All my tricks? Does that mean I get you all night?"
She can feel her pulse ticking up again, that now familiar feeling of arousal flowing through her body at the way that he looks at her. Knocking back her martini glass, she takes a larger gulp, trying to finish her drink sooner.
“I’m spending the night there,” she confirms. “You’re welcome to stay.”
Is that what he meant? Midge has the sudden worry that Jaskier won’t want to spend the night there with her. Maybe he’ll leave in the very early hours of the morning. It won’t necessarily upset her if she does, but she misses being able to fall asleep in someone else’s arms.
Midge pushes that thought away. This isn’t a relationship. Neither of them want a relationship.
She's really eager, isn't she? Jaskier is both flattered and inspired by her enthusiasm. He meant it when he said he likes doing build-up, the chase does make it all more delicious - but he can't blame her, they've been piling it up pretty hard. He downs half of his drink too, and signals the waiter for the bill.
"It sounds perfect. Then we can wash up together too - please, tell me it has a big tub."
He's come to appreciate showers in this world, but tubs will always be superior.
Jaskier likes that anticipation. Midge is less patient. If they both want this, she doesn’t see a need to wait any longer. Besides, they have lots of plans for the evening.
Her heart leaps at the idea of him spending the night with her. At least it means that he doesn’t intend to just sleep with her and be on his way. She likes the cuddling afterwards, something that was interrupted during their first time together.
“They do,” Midge replies. “Big enough for both of us to fit, at least.”
After paying for everything himself, Jaskier finishes his drink and finally stands up. He hangs his satchel on his side and his lute on his back before passing the flowers to Midge.
"Did you leave anything backstage? Are we walking or taking a cab?"
“Thank you,” she says when he pays the bill. This really was a date.
“I have to get my coat at the coat check and then we can walk over there. It’s only a few blocks away.”
Midge cradles the flowers as the two of them walk through the club. They’re getting a few looks again. Guess a man with a lute on his back isn’t a sight that is seen every day.
Besides her coat, Midge had also checked a pair of lightweight gloves and a hat that matches her dress. Fully accessorized once again, she takes Jaskier’s arm as they walk out into the cool night.
New York is still busy, even this late at night. Midge leads him around people on the sidewalk towards the Goldbergs’ apartment.
“I know you had a show tonight,” she says, “but do you bring the lute everywhere with you?” The only time she saw him without it was when they were in jail.
She fits so easily on his arm, it makes him very happy to see her take it without even having to ask. Jaskier likes the energy of New York and its bubbly nights, so getting to walk also adds to the reasons for this night being so good.
The comment about his lute makes him laugh.
"Most of the time," he responds with a shrug. "I've been trying to change it here, but it's an old habit. Quite hard to drop it. After so many years, not feeling it on my back feels... empty, in a way." Remembering that they'll have the whole night together, he then adds, "But look at it this way: it means I may serenade you later. If it pleases you."
“It would please me,” she says with a smile. Jaskier has a very mellow voice and she’s enjoyed the little bit of his singing that she’s heard so far.
“Have you ever taught anyone to play?” Midge asks, leaning in to him as they walk together. Their pace isn’t hurried, despite what they both know awaits them. As eager as Midge might be to have sex with him, she can still enjoy a walk in the fresh air on the arm of a handsome man.
He's delighted to hear he may charm her with song, and his mind is already going through his dirtiest songs when she throws another question.
"I did a bit of that during my winters in Oxenfurt, but I've never done full tutoring. What about your studies? You told me you attended university too. Did you do anything with that?"
Oh, the dirty songs will amuse her, never you worry, Jaskier. She knows how much he loves to see her blush and to make her laugh.
“I majored in Russian Literature,” Midge replies with a sigh. “Honestly, I went to college to find a husband. I found one.” And look where she is now. “It was a totally impractical major, but I was interested in it. I speak a little bit of Russian. That’s probably the most useful thing I got out of it.”
Russian Literature didn’t often come up as a housewife, nor has it come up as a comedian.
Went to college to find a husband. Jaskier wonders if she regrets it, but he isn't about to ask that. He may be a dumbass, but he isn't dumb.
"Impractical is irrelevant - it's what you loved. Have you tried sitting through a subject you hate? It's pure hell. Your mind wouldn't have gotten anything out of it."
So many teens in his lectures definitely didn't want to be there, and those were always his worst students.
"Would you say something to me in the other language?" He repeats the question in Elder.
“That’s how I feel about math,” Midge tells him. “I’m good at it, but I don’t find it interesting.”
What would she have done with it? Become a bookkeeper? That sounds incredibly boring.
Her eyes widen when he says something in another language. “Oh, what was that?” Midge thinks for a moment about what she wants to say, then goes with: “Когда рак на горе свистнет.”
"Elder, the language of the elves in my world. Like my ring."
Jaskier has no idea what she said, but it makes him smile anyway. He loves language and accents in general, and this world is full of new ones, with all kinds of delightful expressions.
"That was interesting. I don't think I heard that one before. We were given English when we arrived, and I think I heard some of-- Spanish, I believe?"
“It sounds beautiful,” Midge says of Elder. The Elves do seem to have a lovely-sounding language with some beautiful turns of phrase.
“Spanish, yes.” She glances up at him, a smile playing at her lips. “Want to know what I said? ‘When the lobster whistles on the mountain.’”
After giving him a moment to react to that, she explains. “It’s an idiom. It means something unlikely to happen. Kind of like ‘when pigs fly’ in English.” She enjoys that Russian phrase. “And we’re here.”
Midge steers him to a well-to-do looking building on their left. The elevator takes them to the third floor and Midge retrieves a key from her purse to open apartment 308. The space isn’t huge, but it’s cozy and well-appointed. It’s clear from the decor that the owners have some money.
Alone at last, Midge turns to Jaskier and presses her mouth to his in a hungry kiss. Her hands go to his chest as she tastes the fruity alcohol on his lips. She lingers there, sucking gently on his lower lip.
He chuckles at the meaning of the phrase. "I'm sorry, but the Russians win this one. The lobster one is better."
This building is as nice as Midge's, which isn't surprising considering it's someone's second property. Thinking of it as another hotel, Jaskier allows himself to enjoy the sight of fine things decorating the room.
As soon as she turns to him, Jaskier puts his hands on her waist and happily kisses her back, making little noises when she sucks on his lip.
"And soon I'll taste of you. But we aren't hiding from your parents anymore, and we have all night. So we're doing this right."
Still determined to go through the whole seduction process, Jaskier kisses her cheek before moving to the living room. He leaves his lute and satchel on an armchair before taking off his jacket and shoes, delighted to feel the carpet under his feet. He also loosens his tie knot but doesn't take it off quite yet, hoping Midge may want to pull it.
Just as he hoped, there's a radio in the room. He quickly goes through a few stations before finding some soothing music. Grinning in victory, Jaskier then moves the coffee table out of the way. Once Midge has put down her things too, he grabs her hand and brings her to the middle of the room.
It's not just a slow dance, although the usual swaying is still there. Jaskier rubs her back while kissing her thoroughly, making sure to taste every inch of her mouth and suck on her tongue. His hands slowly go down and unlike the club, they don't stop - they fall on Midge's arse and squeeze, pushing her against him until not even a needle can get between them.
Midge takes off her coat and hat, watching as Jaskier loosens his tie and turns on the radio. She wills herself to be patient and allow him to seduce her. It’s clear that he wants to take his time with her tonight. They’ll have plenty of time to get through all of their plans, so why not follow his lead?
She allows herself to be pulled close, sighing when he kisses her. Her mouth open against his, the kisses grow a little sloppy, lipstick smearing over both of their mouths. There’s a soft moan when he grabs her ass and pulls her flush against him. She can feel his cock against her stomach. Midge’s hands go to his chest, caressing the muscles there through his shirt.
“Have you managed to go all evening without getting hard? Because I’m dripping wet for you.”
Her words are very erotic, but Jaskier can't help chuckling anyway.
"I was extremely close many a time, and if I had been younger, you would've easily gotten me. Alas, I've had many years to learn to avoid tents on the stage."
What he doesn't say it's that this was a technique he learnt by travelling with Geralt, constantly being exposed to his mighty tits and his third sword. Sharing beds, washing in the river, taking care of wounds... it was painful for his sexual drive.
But the past is in the past, and now he has a wonderful lady to take care of that lust. He buries his face on her neck and starts dropping open-mouthed kisses, being careful not to nip because he remembers the no marks rule. As they continue to sway, Jaskier lifts the dress from behind and lets his fingers tap her panties.
"Fuck," he mumbles against her neck. The erection is quite obviously forming a tent in his pants now. "You weren't kidding. Always so needy and eager for me. Part of me wants to just keep dancing with you, touch you just with my fingertips to see if I could make you come with the sound of my voice."
His finger lightly begins circling the wetness in her panties, just as a little tease. "Earlier, you asked me to corrupt you. Care to remind me of our plans? I seem to have gotten sudden amnesia." His tone is teasing as well, clearly asking her to talk dirty too and ask for what she wants.
She breathes softly when his hand travels under her dress. It seems that feeling how wet she is is all that it takes. Now she can feel his cock press more insistently against her.
Jaskier talks about her being needy and eager for him. To him, those clearly aren’t bad things. To her, she’s not so sure. Did she give in to him too easily? Will people think she’s a slut when — if they find out about what they’re doing? Midge might need some reassurance from him that being needy and eager for him isn’t a bad thing. She has no desire to ruin the moment though, so she tucks the feelings away for later, hoping that he will assuage her worries when the topic comes up.
There’s a breathless laugh and a little moan as strokes his finger over her wet panties. Her legs part slightly in order to give him better access. “You probably could,” she admits.
Midge kisses him and runs her fingers through his hair. She has a smile on her face when she pulls away. “Well, I think we were just supposed to have a nice night in, complete with handholding and chaste kisses.” She winks at him.
“I’m going to change into something that you will hopefully find incredibly sexy, and then I’m going to get down on my knees and take your cock in my mouth.” Reaching down, she cups him through his pants. “Starting to sound familiar?”
Jaskier loses himself in the kiss, letting those long nails of hers make his entire body shiver when they scrape his scalp. He licks his lips when she breaks the kiss, and it takes a second for his lust-filled mind to catch up on the joke. She gets him to laugh, of course.
Before he can reply, Midge is cupping his cock and Jaskier lets out a needy moan as he thrust into her lovely fingers.
"Rings a bell, yes. Mayhaps you should get changing now before an accident happens."
While Midge disappears into the bedroom, Jaskier takes out a few things from his satchel that he puts down on the coffee table: two mini champagne bottles, a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a box of condoms. He's got a jar of vaseline too, but he'll keep that in his bag for now.
Midge is a little bit nervous as she changes. Even though she’s pretty sure he’s going to like what she’s picked out, she wants to wow him. Plus, even though Jaskier seems to be very attracted to her body, she knows she has some imperfections. The days of her measuring every body part, of taking off her makeup after her husband goes to sleep are behind her, but echoes remain. It’s not easy to completely let go of habits like that.
After changing into the lingerie and making sure that it fits right, Midge takes a deep breath and steps back out into the living room.
She poses a little for him, trying to push down any anxiety that she might be feeling. “What do you think?”
She picked this lingerie set because it’s yellow and blue, his favorite colors. It’s feminine, but also sexy. It really doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Her eyes rest on the items sitting on the coffee table and her eyebrows raise. “Someone came prepared.”
omg that's so pretty and perfect (poem by Justin Farley)
As soon as she returns to the living room, Jaskier gasps and his eyes widen. Her comment on his preparedness is completely missed, he's too distracted by the beauty in front of him. It has his favorite colors and has flowers, which he also loves. The best part? It's the transparency, which allows his beloved colors and beloved flowers to frame those perfect tits and that wet cunt. A combination of various beautiful things.
Gods, he can't wait to fuck her in it over and over.
Licking his lips, Jaskier rushes to fall on his knees in front of her and rub his nose against the yellow panties.
"Allure me to dive into your deep, refreshing sea," he recites before dropping a kiss on her panties and standing up. "Like a moth mesmerized, hypnotized by a flame." He drops a few kisses on her breasts, letting his tongue quickly tease a nipple through the fabric. "A breathtaking bonfire built upon the balance of romance and sexuality." His arms wrap around her as he catches her mouth in a devouring kiss.
She can’t help but grin at his reaction. It occurs to Midge that as needy and eager as she might be, he is too. Even if he has other lovers, when he’s with her, he’s with her. There’s no shame in the two of them wanting each other.
Midge caresses his head as he kisses her mons pubis, then wraps her arms around him when he stands up. She returns the kiss to his mouth, speaking again when they break for breath.
“So you like it, right?” she asks somewhat saucily as she starts to pull open the knot to his tie.
"Absolutely stunning," he replies with no hesitation. He wants to keep touching her, so it's pretty damn hard to pull back his upper body enough for her to work on his clothes. "That's it, it's decided - I'm not undressing you tonight. I won't be done until every inch of fabric smells like both of us."
She tugs his tie off and tosses it to the ground before starting to unbutton his shirt. “I knew I had good taste,” Midge says. It probably helps that the bra is sheer and he can tease her nipples through the thin fabric. The panties are easily enough moved aside for his tongue or his cock. Midge will leave the lingerie on for as long as he wants. She feels pretty in it and loves his reaction.
Once his shirt is open, she takes a few moments to run her fingers through the hair on his chest and stomach, tracing the definition of the muscles there. God, she loves it. After another searing kiss to his mouth, Midge gently guides him backwards until he’s sitting on the sofa. She gets down on her knees in front of him, her eyes burning blue with desire.
“I’m not the only needy one, am I Jaskier?” Midge asks as she unbuckles his belt.
A happy little sigh leaves his lips when she starts touching his chest, once again enjoying the feeling of her nails scraping his skin. He hopes they'll leave marks on his back later. His eyes close as he hums in delight, a hum that gets swallowed by her kiss. Jaskier is about to wrap her in his arms again to bring her close, but then she starts pushing and he laughs, knowing where this is going.
There's no hesitation in the way he opens his legs for her, breath catching when she falls to her knees - what an erotic sight this is. At first, he only shakes his head at her question, biting his lip because her hands and wrists keep brushing his bulge, shamelessly teasing him.
When the belt is finally off, he reaches to cup her face with his hand, his thumb gently stroking her lips.
"Most definitely not. Seeing you like this is maddening itself. I'm rock-hard and aching for your lovely mouth."
Midge looks up at him and grins. She feels more confident knowing that he doesn’t view being needy as a bad thing, and surely doesn’t think less of her for it.
Her fingers tease the bulge through his pants for just a moment before she’s unbuttoning and unzipping them. “Oh, I’ve been told that I’m very good with my mouth,” she says, a playful look in her eye. “You know. Telling jokes.” What else would she be talking about?
With a wink, she urges Jaskier’s hips up so that she can pull down his pants and underwear. His cock springs free, fully erect. Midge’s fingers curl around it, stroking gently for now, feeling him throb in her hand.
The teasing continues and Jaskier whimpers, proving he's indeed desperate and needy for her touch. He can't help wondering if touching the fabric of the blue suit she likes so much does something for her as well.
"A very talented mouth indeed," he agrees with a chuckle. "A feisty mouth - one could even call it cocky."
He gets rid of his shirt while she takes care of his pants, raising his hips as soon as she requests it. The air feels a bit chill around his throbbing erection, but that soon stops being a problem when she wraps her fingers around it. Jaskier throws his head back and moans, his body decompressing on the couch as pleasure slowly melts him away.
The suit is definitely doing it for her, though now that it’s off, his body is doing it for her too. Still gently stroking his cock, Midge leans forward and presses kisses to his chest and stomach.
“Takes one to know one,” she replies saucily. Jaskier’s confidence borders on cocky, but Midge likes it anyway.
She kisses his tuning fork necklace, the metal warm from being against his skin all night.
There should be hundreds of comebacks for that comment, but right now he's letting his brain turn to mush for a change. While usually he's a very active lover, he loves attention and being pampered, so pillow-queening has its own merits. He doesn't get to do it often enough, especially with women, who are often holding onto what is taught to them and expect him to take control.
It's one of the many reasons he likes Midge - her independence makes her extremely attractive. Jaskier hums under every kiss, basking in the feeling of her sexy outfit rubbing against his skin. Calloused fingers land on Midge's shoulder, digging in as he indirectly begs for more.
Midge enjoys when a man takes control, but she also has no problem taking care of a man. In her (albeit limited) past experience, men enjoy it. It certainly seems like Jaskier is enjoying it.
Her kisses trail downward, over his right hip and down the inside of his thigh. She leans back again, this time bringing his cock close to her mouth.
“Do you wanna see what else my mouth can do?” Sassy. Midge is sure he loves it. She lays a kiss on the head of his penis.
The kisses to his thigh make him shiver, his nails digging a little deeper into her shoulders. He indeed loves her sassiness, which makes her ten times sexier than she already is.
Before he can reply, she kisses the head of his cock and he can only let out a heartfelt fuck. "Midge, please..." That's it, his begging is the answer.
The sting of his nails feels good. As much as Midge enjoys hearing him beg for her, she isn’t cruel. She opens her lips and takes his cock into her mouth.
She moves slowly, since it’s her first time doing this with him (and it’s been a while overall) and she needs to judge how far into her mouth she can comfortably take him. One of her hands grips his cock at the base while the other one rests on his inner thigh. The bobs of her head are shallow to start, though her lips are tight around him as she pulls his cock out.
After a brief pause, she takes him in again, deeper this time, working up to hopefully being able to take him to the hilt.
It seems Midge isn't having trouble with that foreskin, huh?
Of course, Jaskier isn't even thinking about that now. His back arches as he throws his head back, moaning out his pleasure. Her mouth is a talented as he expected it to be, and he has to make a great effort not to thrust into it.
"Yes... fuck yes..." he manages to mumble between pants. His hand leaves her shoulder to bury his fingers in her head instead. "You're so good to me, Midge..."
She’s never had a problem with his foreskin, and even though this is the first uncut dick she’s ever sucked, she’s quickly learned that the foreskin can retract and reveal the glans underneath. Midge doesn’t hear any complaints from him about what she’s doing, only moans of pleasure.
There’s something powerful and intimate about doing this. He’s at her mercy a little bit, and Midge likes that. She opens her mouth wider, pushing further until she’s able to get all of his cock in. She’s only able to hold it for a moment until she needs to breathe and she pulls him out. His cock is wet with her saliva.
“Do you wanna come in my mouth?”
They might as well establish that now, while her mouth is unoccupied. His hand feels good tangled in her hair. She gently strokes his inner thigh as her tongue moves over the head of his cock and down the underside.
They're even, then - he loves being at her mercy. He loves being someone's center of attention, doubly so when it's a beautiful, talented person who could have everyone - but chose him. Triple so when it's a woman breaking society's rules and embracing that power.
A very loud fuuuuuck echoes in the room when Midge takes him all in, his hand accidentally pulling her hair a little bit. Jaskier forces his eyes to open and admires the view - and what a view it is! Her mouth is warm, her tongue is talented, and there's lipstick on his skin. Absolutely perfect.
When she pulls him out, he whimpers, the night chill making his sweaty skin shiver. There's a trail of saliva from her mouth to his dick, so he brushes it off with his thumb and licks it.
Her question gets another fuck out of him. "Please? That would be divine."
A surge of pleasure goes through her when he tugs on her hair and she can feel herself throbbing for him. Doing this turns her on immensely.
“You may,” Midge replies, then goes back to work. The hand around his cock moves down to cup his balls as she sucks at his head, her tongue flicking over it teasingly. Jaskier’s moans and whimpers are beautiful music to her, but she has pity on him and doesn’t tease for long. Soon she’s bobbing her head up and down, taking more and more of him into her hot mouth each time.
The second she grabs his balls, he's completely gone. Jaskier is nothing but a moaning ball of wiggling muscles, letting pleasure fog his mind and happily drowning in it. His back arches multiple times, and even his feet do it too.
With every minute that passes, his moans get louder and the hand in her hair gets tighter. His hips move too, but thankfully, he's sitting and he doesn't thrust too hard. If he had been standing, he would outright be fucking her mouth. The sounds of her sucking are musically obscene and he wishes to pay attention to them, but his mouth is impossible to stop, constantly repeating yes, please, fuck, more, and of course, Midge.
Jaskier makes sure to enjoy every minute of it, telling his body not to hurry because her mouth is nothing but wondrous. Eventually, he can't take it anymore - his body bends forward and both hands land on the back of Midge's head as a warning. He tries to warn her verbally as well, but he barely manages to mumble something as he comes. His seed fills Midge's mouth as Jaskier groans, wave after wave of ecstasy shaking him to his core. Perfect orgasm.
He collapses back on the couch when he's done, panting while his mind slowly comes back from paradise.
[ OOC: sorry for my absence this evening, I saw Superman tonight! Rachel is a goddess, etc etc. ]
One of the things Midge likes the most about doing this is that it usually makes a man come incredibly hard. Jaskier is no exception. He’s like putty in her hands (and mouth). She wishes she could watch him, but it’s difficult to do while she’s trying to concentrate on his cock. Midge adjusts when Jaskier bucks his hips so that she doesn’t inadvertently choke.
She doesn’t stop until she feels his cum start to spill into her mouth, and even then she keeps going, working him through the orgasm until he falls back against the couch. Slowly, she slides his cock out of his mouth and lets go of his balls. With one hand to her lips, she puts up the index finger of her other hand. One minute.
Midge hurries to the kitchen and grabs a glass from the cupboard. She fills it with water from the sink and swallows Jaskier’s seed down. She’s learned that it goes down much easier with water.
Returning to the living room with her cup of water in hand, Midge smiles at him.
“Did you like that?”
He looks like she sucked the life out of him.
never apologize for having a life! glad to hear you had fun
It takes a few seconds for Jaskier to notice she's gone, since he's still recovering. He frowns when he comes back to reality and finally notices the lack of warmth between his legs. He's about to call for her but then she comes back with-- a glass of water. Huh.
It's just a silly detail, though, it doesn't stop him from smiling back at her, feeling pretty damn content at the moment.
"Like? It was absolute heaven. Your mouth is everything you promised, my witty lady." He reaches for her hand and lightly pulls, asking her to sit on his lap while his body recovers. "I didn't thrust too hard, did I?" he asks while nodding at the glass.
She’s glad to sit on his lap and cuddle with him while he recovers. Sitting across his legs, she leans against his shoulder.
“No,” Midge says with a shake of her head. “I was able to adjust. Honestly, I’m not sure if you were even having rational thoughts at that point.”
She takes another sip of water and then offers him the glass. Midge isn’t the type of person who usually feels smug, but she’s feeling pretty damn smug right now.
As soon as she sits, he puts his arms around her and nuzzles her hair, humming in delight. That humming becomes laughter at her comment.
"I was definitely not," he replies before accepting the glass and taking a sip too. "You sucked my soul out right through my cock. Are you sure you aren't some kind of succubus killing men to look pretty on stage?"
She grins deviously at him. “If I were, would that mean that you and Geralt would have to come hunt me?”
Midge kisses his neck, her hand brushing over his chest and playing with the tuning fork on his necklace. Leaning up, she finds his lips with hers and kisses him sweetly.
"Mmmh, I don't know." He pretends to think very hard about it. "If I keep you well-fed, there may be no need to hunt you." A pause. "Unless this is you indirectly asking for a threesome."
Which he wouldn't be opposed to, but with someone else. And not for reasons related to certain witch.
He's glad to kiss her back, of course, but he's a little disappointed that the water has washed off the taste of his seed. It's such a turn-on to taste yourself on a lover. "And I'm grateful for those wonderful lips of yours. You looked magnificiently lascivious with my cock in your mouth." He kisses her mouth again while his hand rubs her thigh. "Give me a minute and I'll be happy to return the favor."
That statement takes her aback a bit. And yet, is it really that surprising? Geralt is a giant slab of a man that Midge wanted a piece of at one point. She guesses it makes sense that Jaskier wants him too. Is he having sex with Geralt?
“Not sure how Yennefer would feel about that,” Midge says. That was the barrier that Jaskier threw up within 15 seconds of Midge meeting Geralt. Is she a barrier for Jaskier too?
“I’m sure that you and I can come to an arrangement, my sweet bard.” Midge kisses his neck, sucking gently at the skin. “One that is to our mutual pleasure.”
"She would kill us both," he replies with no hesitation. He's only half serious. "I only wanted to know if you wanted a threesome, I wasn't already planning one - not with Geralt, anyway. We can find a more suitable partner, if you're interested."
Thank goodness for those kisses to distract him, because this conversation is going down a dangerous path that he doesn't want to step on in the middle of sex and what is supposed to be a lovely night. Of course, he has nobody to blame but himself - as usual, his mouth opened without him thinking things through. Midge makes it so easy to banter with her, and he loves following every bit of teasing. Her hunting comment had been such a great innuendo, it was so hard not to fall for it. Hard for his stupid dirty brain, anyway.
He hums to show his appreciation for the sucking, throwing his head back a little to give her more skin to play with. (Can she see the very light stretch marks, he wonders.)
"Feasting on you is very pleasurable for me too, trust me. But if you have something else in mind, I'm all ears."
“I don’t want a threesome,” she answers rather quickly. Midge is able to stop herself before her next thought comes out. I only want to be with you. That’s not what he wants to hear. Even if this is casual, Midge has no plans of seeking out other partners. Why would she when he’s satisfying almost everything that she’s looking for?
“Oh, I meant that we could come up with an arrangement in lieu of you hunting me.” She kisses his neck again. “Basically, you’ll have to sacrifice yourself to my whims.”
Pulling back, Midge notices the pale lines on Jaskier’s neck for the first time. She traces a finger over one of them. “Are these scars?”
"Oh." Well, now he feels silly. "I wouldn't mind pleasing your whims." He chuckles. "Sorry, obviously I meant: to be a victim for my terrible sweet mistress."
Ah, there comes the question. He wondered how long it would take. His breath catches for a second when she traces one of the marks, unsure of what to expect. His hand tightens on her thigh.
"Kind of. They're more like stretch marks, but I'd say the context could make them scars. A djinn put a tumor on my throat. It swelled, to put it lightly, because the actual details are quite gruesome. Yennefer cured me."
She nods seriously. “Thank you for your sacrifice. I’m sure you won’t find it to be much of a hardship to have all of my attention.”
When his hand tightens on her thigh, Midge wonders if she hurt him. Maybe the marks are painful. What he tells her seems horrible and Midge sits up to look at him.
“Oh God!” She strokes his chest soothingly, concern in her eyes. “Did it affect your voice?”
It's a love song. He shouldn't. It's too much. Yet as soon as she says that word, he can't help to sing-- "♫ Ponder all your wants in life, and make a little sacrifice. ♫" At least he kept the heavy parts out, he thinks.
Her concern is touching, to say the least. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jaskier gets attached to people quickly, so he's glad that they're caring friends in her eyes too and not just fuck buddies.
"I couldn't even speak while it was there. It was terrifying. After Yennefer cured me, it wasn't as bad as I feared - kind of like recovering from a terrible cold."
He's greatly simplifying the story - obviously because this isn't the moment for gory details, but also because that day had been emotionally draining for him. It feels good to be able to talk about it all, though; it used to be much harder, especially when he still hated Yennefer. And Midge isn't asking about the burnt marks on his fingers, which would be the real awkward moment.
Jaskier kisses the corner of Midge's mouth. "Your kisses are a very effective healing balm as well."
She doesn’t know the song, so she doesn’t know that it’s about love. Midge just likes to hear him sing to her. Hearing it makes her heart flutter and she sighs happily.
Even though it’s only been a few days, she can feel herself growing fond of him. Sexual intimacy has that tendency, to spark feelings beyond the physical. Midge can feel them budding inside of her and tries to convince herself that it’s just friendly companionship and not something more.
“I’m glad she could help you.” When Jaskier says that her kisses are helpful as well, she resumes laying light pecks over the stretch marks on his neck.
“I’m sure Geralt was thrilled that you couldn’t talk.”
Since she's happy to go back to affection, so is he. He runs his hands up and down her body, even the parts covered by the lingerie. The fabric feels wonderful on his skin.
Her comment makes him snort. "Very funny," he replies rather sarcastically. "I shall not take any comments on silence from the woman who gets wet on my voice."
Suddenly, he brings Midge down on the couch, looking down at her with a big grin and a spark of mischief in his blue eyes. His hands are on either side of her shoulders and he makes sure he isn't touching, although obviously their bodies are brushing on various spots.
Jaskier puts his mouth against her ear, and sings. "♫ I can see it in your eyes / because they never tell me lies / I can feel that body shake / And the heat between your legs / You don't have to run, I know what you've been through / Just a simple touch and it could set you free ♫"
Midge gives a surprised gasp and then grins when he lays her down on the couch. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs happily as he croons so sweetly in her ear.
As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, his voice does turn her on.
“Well,” she replies, “please consider this your personal invitation to touch me however you please.”
Midge spreads her legs as much as the couch will allow, offering him a hint as to where he should start with the touching.
The hint is seen and understood, but he's being a tease now and he wants to have fun. He nibbles on her ear and makes his way down her neck with cute little kisses, but his hands never join. The kisses continue on her chest, and this time he can't stop himself: he does stop at her nipples to suck hard on both of them. The combination of the fabric and her flesh sends a shiver down his spine.
A few more kisses on her stomach, a lick of her belly-button... and then he's sitting back on his heels. With his best innocent face, he lets a calloused finger touch her panties, lazily going up and down her folds as if testing how wet she is. And gods, she's so wet already.
"Absolutely soaking," he purrs, looking happily pleased. Then he's moving back to lie down on the other end of the couch, his head resting on the cushions against the armrest. "Come," he asks as he taps his chin. "Sit."
She giggles as he moves down her body, her back arching up to try to get more contact with him. Her giggles turn to moans when Jaskier sucks at her nipples. Fuck, Midge loves when he does that. She brushes his hair off of his face, fingers tangling in it with gusto.
Her eyes stay on his face as he strokes her folds through her panties. Midge gives a shuddering sigh and raises her hips to meet his hand. She’s been soaking wet for a while now and sucking his cock only increased it.
At his request, Midge props herself up on her elbows and gives him a confused look. “Sit… on your face?” she asks.
His tone isn't judging, just curious. In fact, his smile grows, because he loves 'corrupting' her and teaching her things. He wonders if this also means she's never done mutual-oral, and he saves that idea for later.
"I'd ask you to crawl on top of me, but since it's your first, let's make it easy to avoid accidents, mmh?" A wink. "Get off the couch and walk over here to climb. Put your knees on either side of my head. You can hold on to the back of the couch or the armrest, but I wouldn't mind a hand on my hair."
“I never literally sat on Joel’s face,” Midge says with a laugh and a shake of her head.
Getting up, she follows his instructions, straddling his face on her knees. Admittedly, she’s kind of hesitant to sit down, though her arousal grows by the second as his face gets closer to her cunt.
“Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” she asks, hovering above him.
Her cunt gets closer and Jaskier licks his lips, already growing crazy over the scent of her arousal. She appears to be unsure, so he puts his arms around her thighs (which he'd been planning to do anyway) and rubs them gently.
"Just make sure not to drop your whole weight on me. Keeps most of it on your knees, and brace yourself on the couch. Feel free to rub yourself on my mouth or even thrust. And if at any moment you're uncomfortable, say the word and we stop."
Determined to make her less nervous, Jaskier makes sure to keep eye contact as he raises his head and licks a streak between her folds, once again being grateful for the lingerie idea.
Jaskier is good at soothing her. Despite not knowing him for very long, Midge trusts. She nods at his assurances and the gentle touches to her thighs. “Same for you,” she replies.
Midge settles gently on his face, following his instructions and keeping most of her weight on her knees. She grips the arm rest of the couch as he draws his tongue over the fabric of her panties.
The scent and wetness of her arousal flood his senses, and Jaskier can't stop a little groan of his own. From this angle, he also has a fantastic view of her tits, and he can't wait to see them bounce.
He starts slowly, letting her get used to the position and to handling her weight. His tongue laps at the wet spot on her panties, loving the sensation of the fabric against the skin of his face. With every second that passes, his pace picks up, and soon his licking is replaced by his mouth sucking around her clothed mound.
As her voice starts to crack, Jaskier pauses. "Enjoying yourself so far?" he asks before dropping a kiss on her thigh while a hand reaches in to finally move her panties over.
She moans openly when Jaskier starts to lick her in earnest. All of the want that she suppressed while she was giving him the blowjob has come roaring back with a few strokes of his tongue. Her hips gently move against his face, needing that extra bit of stimulation.
“I think you know the answer to that question,” she replies cheekily. When he finally pushes her panties to the side, she feels the cool air of the room hit her slick folds and she sighs needfully.
"Mmh, I don't know. Maybe you should keep moving your hips like that. To assure me, of course." And because he absolutely loves it.
His tongue buries between her folds and the lapping resumes, making sure to be extra noisy about it. He genuinely loves her taste, but he also adores the lewd sounds of sex echoing in the room with the radio's soft music. His hands move to grab her buttcheeks, squeezing them and pushing her against his face as an addict desperate for more. Soon the lapping stops at her clit, licking it for a few seconds before he starts to suck hard on it.
“Oh, I will,” she breathes. Her hips resume their movement in time with his mouth. The noises that he’s making actually make her giggle. “It sounds like you’re slurping me up like soup.” Not that she’s complaining.
When he switches to concentrate his mouth on her clit, Midge moans openly. She grips the arm rest with one hand, Jaskier’s hair with the other. “Fuck.”
A fuck escapes him too, muffled by her cunt - he likes her hand in his hair, and it seems she's confident enough in the position to keep it there. Good. Jaskier can already feel his blood starting to boil, and he knows his cock will be ready for round two soon.
While his lips keep on sucking on her clit like a feast, one of his hands reach from behind to gently insert a finger into her cunt, thrusting slowly at first. But as her hips continue to move, his hand matches the rhythm. Blue eyes full of desire keep looking at her face to enjoy how beautiful she looks in the throes of passion - but they definitely admire the bouncing of those glorious tits as well.
“Yes,” she gasps when she feels his finger prodding at her entrance. It’s so satisfying when he slides it in. Sometimes it’s as if Jaskier knows her body better than she does with how comfortable he is touching her. Midge's hips stutter as she feels herself starting to lose control. The walls of her cunt squeeze around his finger and she grinds against his mouth, breasts bouncing with each thrust forward.
“Jaskier…” Midge says his name amidst a series of moans. Her thighs start to tremble from the pleasure and from the effort of holding her weight. She’s been so aroused for so long that the first orgasm will be easy to coax from her body.
If he had been fully hard now, it'd be very difficult not to come when she says his name like that. He wants a recorder to get her voice, and a camera to get her face... she's a work of art from head to toes, and he wants to treasure her as art deserves.
Her trembling thighs speak for themselves, so Jaskier picks up the pace as he adds a second finger, rubbing her walls and looking for that special spot to play with it too. His mouth never leaves her clit, but he does make a humming song asking her to come right there on his face.
He finds her G-spot easily and Midge cries out for him when he pleasure spikes. Between his fingers there and the way he’s humming over her clit, she’s a goner.
Midge looks down into his electric blue eyes as the orgasm explodes inside of her. Keeping eye contact while orgasming is difficult, but she manages it, her whole body shaking with pleasure until it subsides. She collapses on top of him, then has the wherewithal to push herself up on her knees again so that he doesn’t suffocate.
Sliding back, Midge sits on his abdomen instead and looks down at him with a satisfied grin.
The eye contact is returned, of course, because Jaskier will never get tired of the beautiful face she makes when she orgasms. His mouth and fingers never stop moving, riding her through her ecstasy so she can get the most out of it. Absolute perfection.
It isn't so bad when she collapses - Jaskier has been under worse weight in worse circumstances. He won't be able to hold it for long, but she moves before it gets to that point. Noticing how satisfied she looks, Jaskier smugly grins from ear to ear, his mouth, chin, and cheeks glistening with her fluids.
Calloused hands grab hers and gently bring her down for cuddling. "An enjoyable first?"
Midge takes his hands and allows herself to be brought down on top of him. It’s a good thing that he likes to cuddle, because she does too. This friends-with-benefits thing wouldn’t be as good for her if they didn’t get to have these kind of intimate moments.
She kisses his lips and chin, sucking at the juices on his face. Midge gives a happy sigh. “You’re really fucking good at that.”
Since Jaskier is very affectionate in general, cuddling is important for him too. Once Midge is comfortable, he kisses the top of her head before nuzzling it, just basking in the moment.
"Glad to hear my mouth pleases my mistress' whims. Or was it 'goddess'? I lost track." Just a bit teasing about all the silly conversations they've had. He loves all of them and remembers them fondly; banter is so much fun. "By the by, fantastic choice on the lingerie. Felt amazing on my face."
“I think it was mistress, but I like the sound of goddess even better.”
Midge grins at him. Their banter is one of the best things about their friendship. Jaskier stimulates her both physically and intellectually. She finds herself growing more and more comfortable with him.
“Thanks,” she replies, gently stroking his chest. “Despite the store being a bit tawdry, they make high quality lingerie. I picked this for your favorite colors and for the flowers as well, even if they aren’t buttercups.”
"I'm quite sure you said something about a goddess on text. I think I just fulfilled my worshipping duties pretty well, if I say so myself."
His hand is lazily drawing random patterns on her back, but it stops to play with the straps of her bra when she describes the colors and the flowers. She's put a lot of thought into it, and Jaskier is genuinely touched by it. It makes him wish he had made more magical flowers for her instead of just two.
"I could tell. You have a lot of attention to detail. Thank you." He kisses the top of her head again. "Maybe we can visit one of those bawdy shops together sometime? It's the one thing I haven't done yet. Then you can be a first of mine, too. We didn't have such a variety of products at home."
“You did,” she agrees. “Although I may need some more worshipping soon.” Something tells her that won’t be a problem for him.
Midge finds that she likes making him happy. It’s clear that he appreciates the time she took to pick the lingerie out. “Sure. There weren’t any shops that sold sexy underthings where you came from?”
Admittedly, Midge isn’t sure how many of them there are outside of New York. That’s one of the great things about the city: you can find almost anything here.
"Worry not, there will be lots of worshipping tonight." His hand falls to squeeze her butt. Eating her out has already got his arousal going, his dick will be ready to go again soon.
That's something Jaskier can relate to - he loves making people happy too, loves pampering with their likes. Part of the hedonist life.
"Sexy underthings? Not impossible, but you needed good coin and it was hard to find. Not something for the milkmaid on the farm, you had to go to the cities for it. Lacked variety, too." His complaint about men not wearing colors will never stop. "And while I could get lingerie for me too, I was talking about the toys. I keep hearing stories at Rainbow Road--" Says a lot about the conversations he has. "--and they've made me extremely curious. Vaseline was easily found in the pharmacy, and let me tell you, it's already such a huge improvement over oil."
Midge’s eyes grow wider as he speaks. “You mean… toys for using during sex?” She’s pretty unfamiliar with that. “I’m sure they’re available somewhere though I wouldn’t know where. What have you been using Vaseline for? Lubrication?”
So far, things with Jaskier have kept her pretty wet. They haven’t seemed to have a problem with unpleasant friction. Then again, she’s not the only one that he’s sleeping with.
He can't help but chuckle at her expression. Not judging her at all, she's just adorable. Teaching her all this stuff makes it all more fun than it already is, especially because she doesn't judge either. At most, she may not be interested in something, and that's okay.
"Indeed. We don't have to use them if you don't want." He shrugs. "I thought it would be fun to at least look together, discover what it's about. No pressure." He knows he'll buy something for himself for sure, but gonna keep the topic light for now. "Someone at the club can get me an address, so no need to have another awkward conversation with the girls." A wink to show he's just teasing. "Yes, lubrication. I used oil back in my world, and it was incredibly bothersome. Made everything sticky, leaked down my thighs, and stained my underwear."
She nods, feeling unsure about something like that right now, but not writing it off forever. Jaskier has a tendency to make her feel very comfortable. He’s pushed her, never in a forceful way, to try things she hasn’t before. And so far, she’s having a great time.
Midge wrinkles her nose at his description of the oil. “Do you think you and I need it?” she asks. “You’ve kept me naturally pretty well-lubricated so far.”
"For us?" Jaskier frowns a little as he thinks about it. He hasn't realized that she hasn't caught on yet. "I don't think so. Your body has reacted wonderfully to me every time, and you asked me to take you from behind as in the position only. Which is perfectly fine, for the record." He's noticed that very few women are into that. "Oh, we did talk about massages and grooming, didn't we? But oil is still better for that. Especially the aromatic ones."
He tilts his head. "Unless you're interested in my behind? I didn't get that impression when I told you about the same spot in men."
When he talks about men, she understands. Men have to use lubricant to have sex with other men. Midge opens her mouth and pauses while she thinks about how to answer him.
“I would like to be able to give you that kind of pleasure someday, but…” She blushes. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
That should come as absolutely no surprise to him.
Oh, she's being adorable again. With a big smile, Jaskier gently takes her chin and raises her face so he can kiss both her cheeks.
"We don't have to do anything you aren't interested in. I was just checking for preferences. Brainstorming can be fun for more things than art." He winks. "And if you are ever curious yet unsure about anything, I can always do it on myself first for you to see. I don't know if you've heard, but I'm quite a showman." And a huge attention whore.
“Well, why are you holding out on me?” she asks teasingly. Probably because any massage that he gives her will turn into sex pretty quickly.
The idea of watching him pleasure himself pings her arousal. Midge feels it roll over her body like a wave of warm water. “I think I’d enjoy watching you stroke your cock,” she says, her voice low.
He laughs. "Because for a massage to be good, it must be slow and relaxing, and considering our current mood? We'll just fuck five seconds into it." A kiss for her forehead. "Later, when we take a post-coitus bath, I'll do you the honors." And that will probably end up in sex, too. Oh, well. He's willing to make that sacrifice.
"I meant fingering myself, but I can do that as well." In fact, he wraps his hand around his cock right now, lazily rubbing it as it starts to wake up. "Anything else my mistress wishes to see? Should I stand? Get on my knees? On your lap?"
Midge props herself up on her elbow. “It sounds like you have tonight all planned out,” she says, amused. A bath? A massage? Not that she’s complaining.
Baby steps, Jaskier. Midge looks down between their bodies and holds her breath when she sees him grab his cock. “Maybe we can at least sit up so that I can watch better…”
Another chuckle. "I'm a creative man who likes brainstorming! I still appreciate spontaneity above all else. If we follow my ideas or not, well, we'll see where the night takes us."
All that is true, but also in the particular case of Midge, he likes throwing those ideas aloud to get her ready. So much keeps taking her by surprise, and while she's utterly adorable, he doesn't want to give her a heart attack.
As soon as she finishes her request, Jaskier helps her sit up. Then he sits on his heels next to her, knees digging into the couch as he arches his back and continues to touch himself. "What next, lady goddess?"
Midge leans against him, her eyes locked on his hand, trying to memorize the way that he strokes himself so that she might be able to copy it another time. One of her hands traces the muscles of his abdomen as she feels her arousal grow.
“It’s so tempting to watch you to completion, but I’m also selfish and want you inside of me.” Midge presses a kiss to his temple. “Do you think we might be more comfortable on the bed?”
He whimpers when she flicks his nipple, and he makes a mental note to revisit this whole she touching him while he masturbates idea later.
"Yes, you are, my dirty little lady," he captures her mouth in a kiss as he puts his arms around her to pick her up. Her legs are guided to his waist so they can wrap around it, and he groans when his hard dick brushes her wet panties. Walking to the bedroom is going to be slow because he doesn't know the apartment well yet and, most importantly, he keeps kissing her on the way.
It’s something Midge would love to revisit, possibly even later tonight. A man has to pace his orgasms though and Midge is greedy to have him come inside of her.
She gives a little squeal when Jaskier picks her up, but her legs wrap easily around his waist. He inevitably backs her into the door jamb of the bedroom, but Midge just giggles and keeps kissing him.
“Everything about you makes my cunt wet,” she murmurs to him, capitalizing on being called his dirty little lady. “Your voice, your hands…”
Tonight, Jaskier's dick isn't the happiest person in the room - his ego is.
"My cock?" he asks with a wide grin on his face as he opens the door. "How long will you let it stay inside you, mmh?" He throws Midge on the bed and buries his face in her ear. "I'm going to fuck you until you're full of my--" Suddenly, he freezes. "--fuck. Just a second."
Cursing under his breath, he leaves the room and comes back with a couple of condoms. "Remind me to hide these all over this apartment in the morning, would you?" After throwing them on the nightstand, he climbs on the bed and lifts Midge's leg to start dropping kisses on it. "Now, where were we?"
It’s a double-edged sword, praising Jaskier. Midge loves doing it, and he certainly deserves some of it, but it also swells his ego. So far though, Midge hasn’t seen an ugly side to his ego, so she’s going to keep doing it. Praise riles him up, and she likes that.
“Your cock,” she confirms. “As long as you can keep making me orgasm.” If anyone can make her come twice in one go, it’s probably Jaskier.
His abrupt realization cracks Midge up and she lays back on the bed laughing. It feels good to laugh in the bedroom. That can be just as important to her as the actual sex.
When he returns and starts kissing her leg, Midge reaches down to run her fingers through his hair. “I think you were talking about what you’re going to do to me on this bed.”
Making a comedian laugh is a great honor, and Midge is lucky that Jaskier likes her laughter so much. Having people laughing at you instead of with you isn't exactly great, and he knows Midge isn't mocking anyway.
"A vast bed," he notices while moving his kisses to her other leg. This is much better than Midge's single. "Perfect to spread you like a feast."
He moves her panties to the side and licks his lips as his thumb reaches to massage her entrance, barely dipping the tip in. Another fuck escapes him. She's always so wet and ready for him, it's maddening.
"It seems we don't need to get you ready." He pats her thighs. "Very well, my lady - on your knees. Hands on the headboard." While Midge gets into position, Jaskier puts on the condom, fumbling a bit because his eyes keep staring at her arse.
“Oh, are you gonna eat me up?” Midge asks saucily. Her breath hitches when she feels his thumb over her entrance. She pushes her hips up to try to push it inside, but it’s too late. He’s already pulling his hand away.
Midge gets in the position that he requests, looking coyly over her shoulder at him. When she notices that his eyes are on her ass, she wiggles it a little bit.
"Cheater," he teases, grinning as he reaches to (very lightly) pinch her ass.
Then he positions his body behind hers, bending over too so his nipples and necklace are trapped between them. An arm reaches around her to grab a tit, squeezing it as he rubs his cock against her wet folds.
After a few kisses to her shoulders, he whispers into her ear. "Following my command so easily and eagerly... my dirty lady is playing with fire." He squeezes her tit again while her other hand keeps teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, not going in yet. "Is that what you want, Miriam? To let me do whatever I want? To let me take you over and over until you beg for release? Tell me."
How does he know exactly what to say to pique her arousal? Midge leans back when she feels the cool metal of his necklace and firm points of his nipples on her back. Every part of him is teasing her right now, from his hands, to his cock, to his voice.
It’s the use of her full name that makes her moan out loud for him. She’s never heard it said like that before and she feels flush, needy.
“Yes…” she breathes. “Please take me like this.” Midge tries in vain to push more of his cock into her. “My sweet bard’s cock feels so perfect inside me.”
There's no warning, no hesitation, nothing - as soon as she's done talking, Jaskier slides his entire cock into her in just one thrust, a long and loud groan leaving his lips as he feels her warmth surrounding him again. She's wet, tight, and so fucking needy - it's heaven.
His now free arm goes around her waist to hold her against him so he can start thrusting - once again, no warning, no word, no waiting. Taking somebody from behind doesn't always equate hard sex, it can just be a preference for position - but it seems she likes the angle Jaskier is going for. It fits the theme of their teasing: the repressed housewife, tired of the routine missionary, is finally letting go and presenting her cunt for a better man to show it the pleasure it deserves.
Jaskier starts thrusting fast and hard, panting in rhythm to the beautifully obscene sound of his balls hitting her rear every time. His other hand never leaves her chest, squeezing her tits and clumsily playing with her nipples. He can feel the fabric of the lingerie caught between them, adding delicious friction under their sweat.
“Fuck!” She calls out loudly when Jaskier suddenly pushes inside of her and starts pumping hard. Her knees dig into the bed, trying to gain purchase in order to push back against him. She grips the headboard tightly.
“Oh God, yes…” Midge tries to tighten her walls around his cock with each thrust out, though he’s moving quickly, making it harder to keep up with him. She’s happy to play the repressed housewife to his dashing rake, especially if it means she gets fucked like this. Honestly, the role play isn’t very far from reality.
“So big… you feel so big…” Her tits shake with each of his thrusts, even as he grips one and rolls the nipple between his fingers. One of her hands leaves the headboard so that she can reach down between her legs and play with her clit.
if he ever crosses a line please let me know, he just likes playing with her expectacions so much
The arm around her waist moves as soon as she reaches down and he grabs her wrist, stopping her from touching herself further.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grumbles into her ear, suddenly stopping his movements after one more thrust. "Naughty little lady, I meant what I said before. I'm going to fuck you until you're begging. I'm going to make this one last. I'm going to give you the mindblowing orgasm that such a stunning, witty, caring woman deserves." Since he's captured her hand, he uses the chance to guide it to her cunt so she can touch her own folds surrounding his throbbing erection. "Feel that? Open wide for me, taking me so perfectly. You're a marvel, Miriam."
Midge grunts in frustration when he grabs her hand. Those words whispered in her ear, so dirty and so complimentary at the same time, feel like they’re setting her body on fire. Midge trembles, her cunt positively dripping for him as she feels the way her walls stretch around his cock.
She arches her back, leaning her head on his shoulder so that she can look up at him with big blue eyes. “Please, Jaskier,” she begs. “Please fuck me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good orgasm. I need it. I’ll be good and do whatever you ask…”
"So long since you've had a good orgasm?" he asks in very fake offense, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at her. Jaskier knows what she really means, but it's the perfect opening for him to continue the teasing.
"Wasn't the orgasm from a few moments ago good?" He thrusts once, keeping her hand there so she can feel it. "Weren't those four orgasms the other day good?" Another thrust, this one a little harder. "And here I thought you liked my cock." Three thrusts in succession before taking her hand to his mouth to suck her fingers, thoroughly cleaning all her juices with his tongue. He then kisses her cheek. "You're always so good for me, Miriam. Always so wet and ready to play. Be a good girl a little longer--" He finally lets go of her hand. "--and touch me, or grab the headboard. But not touching yourself. That's my job."
“I meant— oh!” He’s thrusting hard again and Midge cries out with every pump of his hips. Perhaps he didn’t realize that she was trying to play the repressed housewife, but Midge thinks he’s just using it as an excuse to tease her. Being able to feel his thrusts through her fingers, the way she stretches and contracts around him, brings her to a whole other level of arousal.
“You… give me such… good orgasms,” she pants in between his thrusts. “I’ll let you make me come… I’ll be a good girl.” Midge reaches back with the hand that he cleaned off and tangles her fingers tightly in his hair.
He hums in approval at the fingers in his hair, his skin tingling at how tightly they're pulling.
"Yes, good girl. Wonderful girl."
Jaskier's arm goes back to wrapping around her waist so he can start thrusting hard and fast again. His own moaning and panting make it hard to talk, but this is Jaskier, and he never stops trying to talk. Shutting him up is impossible. He can feel his own body on fire as he tells her how good, how tight, how wonderful, how precious, how sexy and dirty she is...
The obscene sound of his balls hitting her rear continues to act as an instrument for their groans, and he often looks down to admire the way her tits bounce. The only bad thing about this position is not being able to bury his face in them.
When he feels her walls tightening around him and her voice breaking, indicating she's close, he simply stops again. Her clit hasn't been touched yet. His cock stays buried inside her while he drops light kisses on her shoulder and neck.
"Condoms are such a wondrous invention," he says between pants and kisses. "Enable me to come inside, who would've thought? Do you know what that means, Miriam?" His mouth moves to her ear again. "I could pull out but leave the condom in, and watch my seed drip out of your lovely cunt. Would you like that?"
Midge basks in his praise, loving every second of it as he pounds her cunt. Jaskier brings her pleasure up, up, until her clit is throbbing. One stroke of his fingers and she’ll come for him. Midge whimpers and grips the headboard and his hair tightly, wanting it so badly. She grunts in frustration when he stops.
His idea is so dirty and so wonderful that she moans in spite of herself. “Yes,” she gasps. “Please, yes, but… may I come first?” Midge tries to sound sweet, irresistible, as she bats her eyelashes. “All for you, my handsome bard. I’ll come so hard for you. Only you can give me such perfect orgasms.”
That little grunt is adorable, and it makes him laugh.
"It's hard to say no to those pretty eyes and smart praise," he responds before kissing her, making sure to suck on her tongue before pulling away. "And yet... you said you'd do anything I want, did you not?"
He doesn't actually answer her question. Once again, with no warning, he starts pounding hard and fast. This time, however, his words fumble more because he's starting to lose it, too. Midge reaches her edge faster, and he knows he doesn't have much left.
But when her walls tighten, guess what? He stops. Again.
"You're right," he purrs in her ear. "You've been such a wonderful, dirty girl for me. You deserve to come."
As soon as the hard thrusts restart, his hand reaches her clit, rubbing it to match the rhythm of his hips. His moans are full of her name and his blood boils hotter with every pull of his hair.
She whimpers again, begging with her eyes for him to have some mercy on her. Then he’s fucking her again and she squeals, unembarrassed by the noises that she’s making. It feels way too good for her to care.
Jaskier edges her perfectly, making her feel practically feral to come. She moves against him when he stops, fucking herself on his cock and tossing her hair back over his shoulder with a growl.
When he finally strokes her clit, Midge can’t even get any words out. She explodes nearly on contact, her wild cries ringing off of the walls. Her body jerks against his, riding out the wave of that perfect release. Her orgasm is long and intense. Somehow, Jaskier keeps giving her better and better orgasms.
Her knees sag when she finishes and she’s glad for his arm around her waist holding her up. Midge feels dazed, almost numb from pleasure.
Oh, a growl. That's new. And incredibly sexy - it makes his whole body shiver. He would be grinning smugly at this achievement if he weren't so lost in his thrusting. The chase for an orgasm is on, yes, but he has to be careful, because he still has a surprise left.
Her cries are the rawest, most beautiful music. Jaskier's arms tighten around her, basking in every jerk of her wonderful body, his finger rubbing her clit through every second of her climax, his hips doing shorter but still hard thrusts.
He's happy to hold her when she sags... yet he doesn't stop. Ah, irony. It's not just the thrusting, since obviously he hasn't come - his hand doesn't leave her clit either. It's hard to breathe, but he still forces his body to take a few deep breaths, silently begging his cock to wait just a little longer.
"Do you-- ah, fuck. Do you know what I envy the most about women, Miriam? They can have multiple orgasms."
His speed picks up. There's only so much self-control he can achieve. It's not something he could've done when he was an 18-year-old desperate to get his rocks off. Years of experience and the earlier orgasm today have helped him reach this point. Hopefully, he doesn't fuck up now.
It takes Midge a moment to realize what Jaskier is doing. She squirms, sensitive, but beneath that sensitivity is growing pleasure. If he keeps going, he can bring her up over the hill again.
No, she’s never done this before, but she doesn’t want to verbalize that, in case he misinterprets it and stops. Midge shakes her head.
“Oh my God…”
Midge rises back up on her knees, her head back on Jaskier’s shoulder as she wills her body to feel that ecstasy again.
Another first for her, then, and Jaskier is pleased by the answer. He's also unsure of how long he'll last, so he decides to drop the praising for now and go all out with the affection. A hand stays on her clit, rubbing as desperately as he thrusts to make her squirm even more (she's so cute when she squirms). His other hand grasps at her breasts, squeezing and pinching any spot he can reach. Finally, his mouth reaches for hers, kissing her clumsily yet thoroughly, causing drool to drip from the corners of their mouths.
His whole body is starting to shake now, his mind going numb with the delicious mix of exasperating waiting and endless pleasure.
She returns the kiss, whimpering into his mouth. Her eyes close, concentrating on just the pleasure and nothing else. Steadily, she climbs and climbs until…
Midge’s body stiffens again and she calls out his name. It’s not as intense as the first orgasm, but it’s still wonderful. She shakes with pleasure, the walls of her cunt squeezing his cock again.
When the waves subside, Midge falls forward this time, resting her head against the headboard.
As soon as Midge's body stiffens, Jaskier knows it's time at last. He gives one final hard thrust and his arms tighten around her as he comes too. His moan is long and loud, proving it's as intense for him as it was for her.
Absolute ecstasy spreads through Jaskier's body, from every strand of his hair to every tip of his toes. For a few seconds, his mind is nothing but fireworks and the music of Midge's voice. Heavenly. Sublime. Perfect.
When he returns to reality, he notices he's putting his weight on Midge, who is barely holding on to the headboard. Jaskier kisses her shoulder and whispers a sorry before falling on the bed, bringing her down with him. This time, he isn't as gentle as usual, but he's truly exhausted and his body is currently made of jelly. They land on their sides, and Jaskier spoons her while burying his face in her neck, absorbing the scent of their shared pleasure. He'll pull out in a moment or two when they're both feeling less sensitive.
Midge barely notices his weight on her, so lightheaded is she from two orgasms in quick succession. She turns her head slightly so that she can watch him orgasm, his face contorted in ecstasy. He looks beautiful.
They fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, his cock still snug inside of her. Midge lays back against his warm chest as she catches her breath. Then, she moves her shoulders and head enough that she can look into Jaskier’s eyes. Her own are burning bright blue.
It takes him a moment to react, since he's still floating in a cloud of bliss, and her request takes him by surprise. He remembers she chose 'Midge' for herself, and he used 'Miriam' as part of the teasing, so this is an interesting turn of events.
"Miriam," he murmurs back with a little smile. "Enjoyed yourself?"
She doesn’t answer. She just presses her mouth to his, her tongue hungrily seeking his. One hand goes to his cheek as Midge kisses him sloppily, needily.
Her birth name is something intimate, something only the people closest to her call her. Yes, she didn’t like it when she was younger, and she still prefers Midge, but hearing Jaskier say it unlocks a desire for intimacy with him that she didn’t know she had.
She only pulls back when she needs to breathe, and she doesn’t go far, rubbing her nose against his.
This takes him even more by surprise - he would've thought they were going to need a moment to recover, to just cuddle and at most share some pecks. He isn't complaining, of course, and after the initial shock, he's happy to kiss back. His body is still sensitive, so his skin tingles when their tongues touch.
"I'll take that as a yes," he replies with giddy laughter while she rubs their noses together. So cute. "May I?"
He reaches down to finally pull out, but just as he promised, his fingers hold the condom to keep it in. This is something that has been in his mind since he learned about condoms and didn't get to try before, so he hopes it goes well. And it does! His dick comes out alone and his seed drips out of her cunt - it's obscene and incredibly erotic. Jaskier loves it.
"I hope it feels as good as it looks." He kisses her shoulder while pulling out the condom as well.
Midge watches with fascination as Jaskier slowly pulls his cock out of her, leaving the condom behind. She makes a soft noise in her throat when she feels his warm cum travel down out of her vagina and spill over her labia onto her inner thigh. It’s erotic and intimate, and the only thing keeping her from wanting him again is the fact that he just made her come twice.
“You made a mess of me,” she says. She’s not only talking about the cum on her leg. Midge is covered in sweat, her makeup is smeared and her hair is in disarray. In other words, she’s been thoroughly fucked, and she could not be more pleased with that.
Midge scoops up a little bit of the cum on her thigh and rubs it on her lips. She licks a little bit of it off, but knows that Jaskier wants what she had washed down earlier.
"And you like it," he quickly replies. Jaskier likes fashion and style, but there's no denying there's something raw and beautiful about the thoroughly fucked look. He bets some of the people in her life would be scandalized by this look, and that makes it even sexier.
"Oh, you dirty little thing," he says between chuckles as he sees her 'paint' her lips with his cum. If he hadn't just come, this would be driving him crazy. Jaskier grabs the back of her neck and brings her head closer to lick her lips before capturing them in a short but deep kiss.
When he pulls back, he keeps looking into her eyes while rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "Tell me, my proper lady - how does messy feel now? Because messy was good during your first stage experience, was it not?"
“I love it,” she confirms. Midge feels a bit bad for any woman who has never experienced this feeling. They have no idea what they’re missing out on.
She grins at Jaskier when he leans in to lick the cum off of her lips. As for the rest of it, it can stay right where it is.
“Messy was… messy during my first performance, if you could call it that.” she says. “It was basically ‘drunk woman in nightgown rants about husband’.”
Edited (Didn’t see he already pulled the condom out lol) 2025-07-13 19:37 (UTC)
"We're artists. We do more than 'basically'." He pokes her nose. "Did you not feel free? Floating?" Sitting up now. "I want you to think of a better answer, missy, while I get refreshments."
That was one hard fuck, after all, they need to recharge. Jaskier's legs still feel wobbly, and he walks slowly, but he loves it - it's a reminder of what they just did. He feels light and floaty, simply content.
Of course, the word refreshment was used very loosely here, because he comes back with the two mini champagne bottles (now open) and the box of chocolate-covered strawberries. All piled up on some cushions that he's stolen from the couch.
"Sooo~?" he asks after handing her one of the bottles. The box is dropped on the mattress and the cushions piled against the headboard so they can sit back and relax.
Midge thanks Jaskier for the champagne and rearranges herself on the bed once he puts the cushions down. His cum is still sticky between her legs and on her thighs, but she likes it there. It feels like Jaskier has marked her as his, something that she finds incredibly sexy.
After helping herself to one of the chocolate-covered strawberries, she speaks again. “You want to know how it feels to be messy like this?” Midge takes a deep breath. “Indulgent. Freeing. Satisfying.”
"Smart lady." Jaskier's grinning from ear to ear as he leans in to kiss her cheek as a 'reward'. "That's what sex should always be like - not just an obligation to your partner or to procreate. It's what sex and art have in common - some would even say that fucking is an art, too."
'Some' meaning 'he'. He says it.
After clinking their bottles, Jaskier takes a sip and has a strawberry too. The satisfied noises he makes are almost naughty. "I take it back, condoms aren't the best invention this world has. Chocolate is."
“No doubt,” she agrees, smiling at him as she eats another strawberry.
Sex with Jaskier is exactly like that, which is probably why Midge is having such a good time. She cuddles up next to him, her head on his chest.
“I loved that,” she tells him. “The way you spoke to me… pretending you were corrupting me… praising me… using my full name. And then you fucked me so well. And made me come twice. It was incredible.”
Jaskier could probably tell that she enjoyed herself, but Midge wants him to know what particularly she liked about it. It can help to inform their sex going further.
As soon as she moves closer to cuddle, he puts an arm around her and the strawberry box on his groin. He thinks he's funny.
"Pretending to corrupt you? Is that our cover story?" he teases before taking another bite from a strawberry. He only eats half and feeds the other half to Midge. "I'm truly glad you liked it. I want you to experience everything you've been missing. I want to feed the artist in you and watch her grow."
He chuckles at her question. "There's something you have to understand about me: I won't sit through something I don't like, unless it has to do with survival." There's another exception: enduring something to get what he wants. But he won't say it aloud, he doesn't want her to think he's using her - because he isn't. "Of course I liked it, it was wonderful. You're always so eager and enthusiastic - and you tell me what you want. On a beauty like you? That's a killing combination."
Midge looks at the box of strawberries next to his cock and rolls her eyes fondly.
“It was, in our role play that was not at all similar to real life.” She slowly eats the strawberry out of his fingers, licking her lips and his fingers in order to lap up the juice. “Is it okay? That I’m… eager?”
Even though she’s feeling better about how much she wants him, hearing validation from him that she’s not some kind of deviant would make her happy.
"Oh, darling." He kisses the top of her head, internally cursing society norms for putting stupid ideas in her mind. "Never be ashamed of wanting to enjoy yourself - no matter if it's alcohol, sweets, or sex. You aren't hurting anybody. Your kids are taken care of. You earned your coin. You're allowed to do anything you want now. I like you eager."
Remembering how she giggled earlier, he starts dropping light kisses all over her face, hoping to bring her smile back.
"There's only one slut in this room, and that's me." He winks. Is he serious or joking? Yes. "So unless you're going to start judging me, too, then you can't judge yourself."
It’s a relief to hear him say that. Society might feel differently, but society doesn’t need to know what the two of them do together.
Midge squinches her eyes closed when he starts to kiss all over her face, then indeed starts to giggle. She’s so fond of him that he’s able to make her laugh easily.
“You’re right. You are a slut,” Midge says, giving him a playful kiss. “But you’re so… confident. You don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”
Oh, she's going to use that a lot against him in the future, isn't she? He's given her just a little word, and she's already absorbed it. She's so smart and quick to think; he adores her for it. Banter will only get better the more they get to know each other.
He laughs at her comments and looks at her for a second, considering something.
"I'm going to tell you something," he says after a pause. "And if this doesn't show how much I like you, I don't know what will. But you must promise you won't tell my family that I admitted this, otherwise I'll have to send you a curse." He takes another sip of champagne to gather courage. "I'm actually very easy to rile up. Remember how we met?"
Told a guy off for his opinion on his music. Yeah, not the best with criticism.
"He was really loud about it," he clarifies. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he just had left." He looks at her with his head tilted while munching a strawberry. "That night in jail... you told me you've told people off, too. Any stories?"
Midge thought there was more to the story, not just that he didn’t like criticism. Granted, what he’s describing is extremely rude behavior. Midge would have been annoyed about that too.
“What about constructive criticism?” she asks.
She exhales, thinking about his question. “Comedians have to learn how to deal with hecklers, especially female comedians. A lot of men probably think I just need to go back to the kitchen, but most of them aren’t rude enough or drunk enough to say it.” She sighs. “Actually, the biggest thing that I run into is not being taken seriously. I get a lot of people thinking, here’s a pretty young woman come to tell us some jokes, isn’t she adorable? They think this is a lark for me.”
He wrinkles his nose. "...it depends, I suppose." Translation: not a big fan either, but he's had his exceptions. Thoughtful help is rare in his experience. He thinks about Essi and how he won't be able to visit her grave again if he stays here. Fuck, better kick those thoughts away.
Her story gets all his attention and Jaskier rubs her back to comfort her, mumbling hypocrite cowards under his breath. He shakes his head. "And even if it was a lark, why would that mean you don't deserve respect? Fuckers just want free entertainment without having to acknowledge anyone that will put their world views in danger."
Jaskier pauses, covering it with another strawberry. He doesn't want to make this a sadness competition - it isn't, and it never will. But at the same time, he wants to give her hope.
"Very early on, I believed they only hated my songs because they were about Geralt. The witcher's whore, they called me." The growl in his voice shows how much he hated that. Being called slutty is one thing; insulting a relationship is another. "But even when I sang about drinking or romance, the judgment never stopped. I was too colorful for taverns." 'Colorful' meaning 'queer'. "Of course, I ended up singing in royal courts and they never left their shitholes. But it took years, and I had a bodyguard. I won't tell you it gets easier, because it won't, not until you make it, at least. And I know you will make it. So don't let them put you down. You have a manager and a supportive family that will be there for you. They only have their own bitterness."
She raises an eyebrow. Constructive criticism can be helpful. Lord knows Susie is full of it. Even if it’s not always delivered by her in a constructive manner, she usually has a point. Being that she’s been in the business longer than Midge, she usually takes Susie’s advice.
This must be the uglier side of Jaskier’s ego. Midge supposes that one day, she and Jaskier will clash over it. Fortunately, today is not that day.
“Thank you.” Midge kisses his cheek. “I don’t expect this to be an easy ride, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating to be underrated and overlooked. I can count on one hand the amount of people who really think I can make it in this business.”
"Oh, feeling frustrated is fine. Please do complain about them. I do it all the time! Shame them in public if you have the chance and no boss who may fire you is looking. That can be fun."
He wraps his arms around her and pulls to make her lie fully on top of him. The few remaining strawberries roll on the mattress, but he doesn't care. A kiss for her nose. "We'll have to make that number grow. You're coming to Rainbow Road tomorrow, right? I can introduce you to the owner."
"I meant 'shame your haters', but I'll never say not to shaming your family as well." His tone is teasing, but he also means it.
He kisses her when she says she'll come to see him perform, and hopes everything goes well. She's been extremely open-minded so far, but actually being there with his people will be the real test, so to speak. Unlike Brandon, she won't be paid to deal with it.
The question takes him by surprise, but he grins. It's not every day that he meets someone who can match him in levels of lust.
"Rumors say I can never be sated." He winks as he turns to drop her on the mattress with him on top. "Are you asking for me or for yours--"
The sound of something getting squished interrupts him. It seems he's dropped Midge on top of the strawberries. Jaskier's forehead falls on her shoulder as he starts laughing.
He gently turns Midge around and finds the offending fruits. Without hesitation, he proceeds to lick all of them off her skin, taking his sweet time with each of them. Now they taste like Midge, which makes them sweeter, he thinks.
She sighs at the sensation of his tongue on her skin. She settles in on her stomach while he licks the strawberries off of her back.
“Your tongue?” She asks. “Is that what I should be considering?”
Jaskier is perfect with his tongue. Even though he’s already given her three wonderful orgasms, Midge knows that if his head or his hand or his cock were to find its way between her legs again, she would allow him to do as he pleases.
The last strawberry is on her butt, so he uses the chance to suck on her cheek and leave a mark there too. This accident has become a wonderful little game, and he's starting to consider ideas for that syrup thing he saw on ice cream.
"I was thinking..." Always dangerous. He gets on top of Midge just to tease, making sure to put his weight on his knees not to crush her. His mouth goes to her ear as usual. "How about we leave the bath for tomorrow morning, before we leave? A nice massage to start the day as good as new. And now we may go for something more relaxed, to contrast against the intensity I just put you through." He kisses her cheek and her shoulder. "Lights out, radio off, just you and I caressing each other under the covers. Slow and sensual."
She hums in her throat when he says he’s been thinking. Highly dangerous indeed.
Midge turns her head so that she can see him after he makes his suggestion. That sounds wonderfully intimate and even as there’s a small pang of worry in her heart, Midge still can’t resist. “Alright.” She’s sure it will turn sexual but doesn’t have much of a problem with that. “Let me get cleaned up a bit and then I’ll join you in bed.”
Oh, he definitely meant it in a sexual way. Just a nice, slow fuck to end the night. Jaskier kisses her cheek and gets off her to get ready.
As promised, he turns the lights off around the apartment and closes the curtains. He also turns off the radio. He only leaves the night light in the bedroom on so Midge can make her way back. The used condom, the, box and the bottles are thrown in the trash and a brand new condom is left on the night table. Fortunately the bed has multiple blankets, so he removes the top one with the strawberry stains and loosens up the other ones. The couch cushions are thrown to the corner of the room for now, they can tidy up that later.
Jaskier gets under the covers and lies down with his arms under his head, waiting for Midge while singing.
"♫ My baby whispers in my ear / Mm, Mm, sweet nothings / He knows the things I like to hear / Mm, Mm, sweet nothings ♫"
While Jaskier cleans up the apartment, Midge takes some time to clean up herself. After taking off the lingerie, Midge takes a washcloth and wets it. She careful wipes the cum off of her thigh. Without her typical creams and makeup removers here, she’s going to have to improvise. She uses a different towel and some soap and water to remove her makeup. Then, she cards her fingers through her hair in order to untangle it a bit.
A smile crosses her lips when she hears Jaskier singing. She comes out of the bathroom and slips into bed with him.
“Uh huh, honey.” She grins. “You know that girl is like, 14 years old?”
Oh, she took off the lingerie. Not a bad idea for what they're about to do, actually, kudos to her. Jaskier openly stares at her gorgeous body and doesn't react to her question until she's in bed with him.
"...what." He drags his hands down his face. "I only heard the song, I didn't see her! What the fuck? That could've been Ciri!"
“Yeah her record label keeps that under wraps,” Midge says with a raise of her eyebrow. “But, let’s not ruin the mood.” Leaning up, she presses a slow kiss to Jaskier’s mouth. “You’re more than welcome to whisper sweet nothings to me.”
Her eyes adjust to the cool darkness of the room as she slides close to him. Jaskier’s blue eyes stand out, as well as the glint off of his necklace.
Jaskier lies on his side and puts an arm around her to pull her close, returning the kiss. It's a slow one, taking his sweet time to kiss her thoroughly, nipping on her lower lip and teasing her tongue with his.
His voice is kept in a sensual purr when he reaches her ear. "Close your eyes and touch my skin. Can you find my scars in the darkness?" His own hands slowly explore her body, too, going up her thighs and her back one inch at a time. "Can you hear our heartbeats echoing in the night?"
Midge is happy to cuddle with him. She wraps one arm around his back when he pulls her close and returns his kiss with equal passion.
Following his request, Midge closes her eyes and lets her fingers explore his skin. There are a few patches on his side that feel different. “Here?” she asks. Midge shivers when she feels his hands on her thighs and back.
His breath catches for a second when she finds the scar.
"Yes. Nails of a vampiress. Yours feel much nicer. I love the way they scrape my skin, making it tingle. Especially on my head." He kisses her neck while taking a moment to gather some courage. There's something he's been dealing with and he knows he must push himself through it to work it out. His left hand traces her spine, then the two scarred fingers from his right hand repeat the process. "Feel the difference?"
Laughing. "Oh yes, you absolutely did. A talented mouth indeed."
And to show his appreciation for that mouth, he captures it in another kiss as he hums in delight at the nails on his head. His whole body shivers and tingles, and his blood is slowly starting to travel south.
"Yeah. This one is-- a sadder story, for another day. Unlike my other scars, they do bother me a little bit. So I've been trying positive reinforcement. I like playing with sensations."
His hands fall on her thighs and caress them as they go up to cup her arse. The more they massage, the more the tips of his fingers slip in, teasing her inner thighs and her lips.
Then Jaskier’s hands travel into more intimate territory on her body and she inhales deeply, exhaling a light moan. Her legs part for his wandering fingers, eager for his touch as always.
"It would kill the mood. It's not a funny monster story." As always, the real monsters are humans. "I just like the reminder that they don't feel--" An awkward pause. "--wrong, I suppose."
Her legs immediately part and it's Jaskier's turn to inhale - she's always so ready for him, it drives him crazy. Being this needed and wanted is intoxicating. He still keeps his touch light, though, wanting to play with the whole slow and sensual idea. His fingertips brush her outer labia, not going far yet.
"I do. You're a piece of art." His hips move forward, his slowly awakening cock pushing against her thigh. "Do you like what you feel?"
Guess who has (shitty) internet on the flight eyyy
“They don’t,” she confirms. “I can feel the difference, but only when I’m looking for it. Your touch always feels wonderful.”
His fingers, as always, are teasingly perfect. Midge shivers, but as much as she wants more, she can appreciate this slow seduction.
“Jaskier…” she whispers. Nobody has ever referred to her as art before. She can feel him stirring against her thigh and reaches down to trace her fingers over his erection. “Of course I do.”
A happy little sigh escapes his lips when she touches his cock, and he's delighted to notice she's playing along with the small touches. It makes for a wonderful build-up, in his opinion.
"Miriam," he calls back, remembering how much she liked it. "Please don't stop."
As his cock hardens in her hand, Jaskier buries his face in her breasts, dropping light open-mouthed kisses on both of them. His hands never stop teasing, finally letting a finger slip between her folds to rub lazily.
[ OOC; the plane has mechanical problems and we’ve been on here for 2 hours but have gone nowhere. Still haven’t eaten dinner. 🔪🔪🔪 ]
With a soft moan, Midge tilts her head back so that Jaskier can have full access to her neck and chest. Her hips move forward when she feels his fingers move between her folds. Midge strokes her fingers down his shaft, then moves them underneath his cock, still keeping her touch teasing with her fingertips.
“I love when you say my name like that,” she breathes. “You make me so happy.”
oh no :( sorry to hear that, hope it gets solved soon!
Jaskier moans against her breasts as her hand continues to touch him, getting his dick fully hard now. He tries to make their bodies touch as much as possible so they can slide against each other, letting their skin communicate in pleasure.
"Miriam," he repeats as more fingers join the first, teasing her clit too now. "Miriam," he says again when his hips thrust into her hand. "Miriam," he whispers one last time before he starts sucking on her nipple.
Her moans grow louder as Jaskier says her name over and over again. She hated it in high school, thought it sounded ugly and old. When he says it, it sounds like the most beautiful name in the world.
“Jaskier…” Midge rocks her body gently against him. Even though they’re teasing each other and riling each other up, she wants more. She wraps her fingers around his cock more firmly, stroking him up and down. As always, he’s playing her like a fine-tuned instrument with his fingers and his mouth.
He gasps against her breasts when her hand wraps firmly around his cock, his hips thrusting into it a little harder now. This was supposed to be slow and sensual, yet now it seems it's becoming a competition. Not complaining, of course.
As their moans echo in the room, creating wonderful music in the darkness, Jaskier gets three fingers inside her and begins thrusting at a fair rhythm - not too hard or fast, but definitely not slow either. His mouth never leaves his breasts while he tries his best for both his sucking and his fingering to match her strokes, hoping for perfect harmony.
Three fingers inside her feels like an indulgence. He did that to her before and she absolutely loved it, though it’s clear she’s not used to it yet.
“I feel so full,” Midge gasps, her hand stilling on his cock for a moment as she gets used to his thrusts. Jaskier should have realized that they wouldn’t be able to keep it slow and sensual for long.
With her free hand, she digs her fingers into his hair as he sucks at her hardened nipples. He’s building her up slowly, and she’s fine with letting him do so. It will hopefully lead to another incredible orgasm.
"It truly is a fantastic feeling, isn't it?" he responds as his fingers stop and his hips make a single thrust, silently asking her to keep up with him. He understands how she feels, he loves being full as well. Jaskier would love to take two dicks like women do, he's a little envious.
His mouth goes to her ear and nibbles on it before speaking. "Have you ever gone to sleep with a cock still deep in you? Imagine waking up still feeling full." His tone says he's done it - both as a receiver and the giver. "Now that we have this place, it may be an idea for another night."
The little thrust wakes her up and she wraps her fingers more tightly around his cock before continuing to stroke him. Midge concentrates on stimulating his whole length, from tip to base, squeezing gently.
She moans approvingly at his suggestion. “Or I could wake up and roll on top of you, start to ride you in the middle of the night.”
A long, needy moan leaves his lips when she starts stroking him again. He pants against her ear as his fingers get back to moving too, thrusting to match her rhythm. His thumb searches for her clit to rub it along.
"Fuck," he curses when he hears her suggestion, the mental image making his cock throb. "That would be the most amazing morning call... start the day with an orgasm and a beautiful woman aching for me."
“I’m always aching for you, Jaskier,” Midge says. One of her legs slides up over his hip, opening herself further for him. His fingers find that sensitive place deep inside of her and she gives a little yelp. “There!” He won’t need to touch her there long to make her come.
Meanwhile, her strokes to his cock get faster, tugging at him in desperation. After her orgasm, she’ll be able to concentrate better on him.
"Oh, yes, you are," he replies as his free hand grabs her raised leg to pull her as close as possible, nails digging into her skin.
His fingers speed up as well, still determined to match her rhythm and create music out of it. They stay inside a little longer, though, to rub that wonderful spot inside her.
"How am I supposed to leave the bed when you're always so wet and ready for me? It's intoxicating. It makes me want to take a potion that keeps my cock hard and throbbing for hours so I can fuck you over and over again."
God, he always seems to know exactly what to say and do in order to get her off. She was going to say more, but now she’s too distracted by her impending orgasm. The idea of him fucking her until she’s completely exhausted makes her leg start to tremble. She heaves a deep breath as she stands on the precipice and then dives over.
Her moan is long and loud as he makes her come again. Is it her fourth? She’s lost count. All she knows is that he has the ability to make her feel complete and utter bliss.
His fingers never stop moving, riding her through her orgasm and rubbing both her special spots until the very end. Jaskier catches her mouth in a kiss, looking for a messy, desperate touch of tongues as he lays her down on the mattress. He raises his hips and inserts his cock between her thighs, gathering the slick that is dripping out of her to make his thrusts easier.
"Miriam..." he whispers as he also searches for bliss.
The way he’s able to set her body on fire is electric. The sensation of Jaskier rubbing her clit and g-spot at the same time just highlights how good he is at this. Midge feels tingly all over as she comes down, then feels him slide his cock between her thighs. She instantly squeezes them together.
“Feel that? How wet you make me? Your witty lady is always so eager and ready for you, Jaskier.” She bushes his hair off of his face so that she can watch his expression as he chases his orgasm. “I want you to come all over my thighs again. Three times in one night is impressive, my sweet bard. Surely I’ll completely drain your balls this time.”
Taking the hand that was inside of her, Midge sucks her juices off of one of his fingers.
"Fuck." Her squeezing thighs feel amazing, and Jaskier knows he doesn't have much left. Every word in her lovely voice makes his blood hotter, and the second she sucks her finger, he's finally pushed over the edge.
Jaskier moans loudly as he comes all over the mattress and her thighs, pure euphoria smashing every nerve in his body. This is what they mean when they see seeing sounds, because Midge's voice becomes explosive colors that blow up his mind. Even his vast vocabulary feels small to describe it.
As he slowly comes down from this amazing high, he collapses on top of Midge and nuzzles the nearest patch of skin he can find.
Even though the room is dark, Midge can still see his face and body when he comes. It’s a beautiful thing to behold. It occurs to her that she hasn’t felt like this about a man since Joel. Not even Benjamin was afforded this level of affection.
As he pants against her skin, Midge gently strokes his hair and places a soft kiss on the top of his head. As affectionate as she feels towards him, Midge knows that it can’t turn into romantic feelings. Jaskier’s made it clear that he’s not interested in monogamy. Still, she can’t help but cherish the time she has with him.
Midge tilts his chin up and places her lips on his. “Satisfied, my darling?”
Her gentle touches help him return to reality, and he hums in delight at the affection. He's a very touchy, affectionate man, and it pleases him to find someone who will be happy to share those sweet touches.
"Plenty," he replies with a nod and a big smile. "I long to have you lead me to that place. That ends with you lying on top of me. Satisfied. Happy. And replete." He then kisses her back, lazily and content.
Midge loves touching and being touched by him. This kind of intimacy has been lacking in her life lately. She’s missed it.
“Three orgasms from you in one night,” she says, her voice full of amusement. “That’s quite a performance. And four for me.” Midge kisses him more deeply this time. “Why wouldn’t I be wet and eager for you when you provide such services?”
Realizing he's crushing her, Jaskier moves off her and lies on his side again before bringing her closer for cuddling. His arms wrap around her, happily kissing her back. Post-orgasm bliss and praise? He can get used to this.
"You should've met me when I was younger; the numbers would be higher." But it wouldn't have been as good - he wasn't as experienced. Shouldn't it be quality over quantity, Jaskier? Ah, the ego to show off will always be stronger. "I'm guessing four is your new record? Maybe we can think of something for another weekend and see if we can break it."
Their limbs tangle together and Midge gives him lazy kisses. She enjoys praising him, even if it feeds his ego.
“I’m sure you’re more experienced now,” Midge says. “Men have to learn how to please women and I’d say you’ve got it pretty down pat. This repressed housewife hasn’t come like this in a long time.”
Thank the gods for those kisses keeping his mouth busy, because he almost spouts that he's great at helping repressed housewives.
"I've never left a bed partner unsatisfied," he replies while pouting a little. He likes to think so anyway. There may've been a woman or two who faked it, but that was very early on. When you're a teen, it's harder to tell. Jaskier tilts his head. "I understand your situation, and I'm happy to be many of your firsts... but from what I've learned about you so far, I refuse to believe you weren't adventurous with your husband at least once. What was the craziest sexual thing you did before me?"
She laughs softly at his question. “Joel and I enjoyed sneaking off to semi-private places. Bathrooms, things like that. I’m sure I’d enjoy doing that with you too.”
Midge strokes her fingers through the hair on Jaskier’s chest. “You make me want to be adventurous.”
He laughs in return. "Oh, that's a great one! You can definitely count me in for that. I haven't forgotten about the mirror in your dressing room."
His face softens when he hears the rest, and he really feels for her. He kisses her forehead. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that. I want you to be adventurous. I want everyone to be adventurous, because the concept of 'routine' was invented by the devil himself. But especially you. Because I can see so much in you dying to come out."
Midge gasps a little, thinking about Jaskier fucking her in her dressing room at The Wolford. It all seems so naughty, and that turns her on more than she can express.
“What do you think is dying to come out in me?” she asks curiously.
She likes being adorable to him. The kisses produce equally adorable giggles from her. “Freedom to bend me over my vanity and pull my panties down and fuck me from behind?” she teases. “Creative and passionate positions in bed?”
Midge knows he means more than that, but she can’t help herself. Plus, being tangled naked with him with his cum drying on her thighs puts her in a saucy mood.
Honestly, he could spend hours kissing her silly just to hear more of those giggles. He laughs at her questions, always happy to get more glimpses of her humor and to have more confirmation of the things she's been repressing.
"And here I was, being all deep and philosophical. Next time someone accuses me of having the dirtiest mind in the room, I'll send them to you." He kisses her ear before speaking again. "But I do like having the freedom to fuck you to the Moon and back."
“Freedom is what America is all about. Be glad your portal opened up here and not in Russia.” Things would be undoubtedly worse for him and his family there.
“I think you think I’m a lot more dynamic than I am,” Midge tells him with a smile. “I just say what other people are thinking.” Nothing really that special.
"I'll be glad but also I'll keep complaining about the paperwork. Freedom has a funny shape here."
He squints at her, not believing what he's hearing. Calloused fingers raise her chin so blue can meet blue. It's dark, but he can still see her lovely smile. "Look me in the eye and swear you don't want more in life."
He beams, incredibly pleased to hear that he hasn't read her wrong.
"Good. Great ambition is the passion of a great character." He gently caresses her cheek and kisses her forehead. "Don't let anyone force you into hiding behind the housewife. And don't ever feel like you must keep things under wraps around me of all people. Love yourself, darling. Be yourself."
Midge sighs gently. “It seems wrong to have that kind of ambition sometimes.” Jaskier is very easy for her to talk to about things like this. He understands what it’s like to be a performer, and he believes that she can be great. “A lot of people think I should just remarry and take care of my kids. I think I can have both though - my kids and my career.”
It’s going to take work and she’s going to need help. Fortunately, Joel and her parents will at least watch the kids while she’s working.
"No!" his hands fall on her arms, shaking her a little bit. "It's never wrong to have dreams and desires!" And just like that, he's sitting up, gesturing like crazy. "You're a person, not some animal that should be satisfied with just food and a place to sleep! Hell, even dogs have toys!"
So many toys. This world market for pets is wild.
"You CAN have both! You MUST! Miriam! Promise you won't let your family stop you from getting what you want."
Her eyes go wide at his reaction and she sits up with him.
“Jaskier, I don’t think anyone is as passionate about my career as you are.” It’s very sweet, considering that he hasn’t known her very long. Perhaps he forms attachments quickly. Midge strokes his cheek and then kisses him. “I want both and plan to work at having both. It just won’t be easy. I know that.”
Jaskier appreciates the kiss and nuzzles her hand. He's always felt strongly about this subject, but he's realizing now that the uncertain future of his career has put him a little more on edge.
"Just so you know, I do care about your career. But what truly pisses me off is the idea of someone leaving dreams behind because society is pushing them in the opposite direction." A sigh. "I've seen it happen so many times. I don't want you to be another victim."
Midge’s hand finds his in the dark and she pulls him gently back down next to her. She holds him closely, their legs tangled together.
“Did someone want you to give up your dreams?”
It’s a bold question. Jaskier has seemed kind of reluctant to talk about his past. He hasn’t even told her his real name. His passion for her to not give up on her career might be due to someone trying to make him give up his.
He's glad to let her pull him down, squeezing her hand as he rests his head on her chest. Her heartbeat has calmed down since the last orgasm, but he still likes hearing it, and even hums to its tempo. That humming instantly stops when she asks her question, and his body tenses.
"...men are 'supposed'-" Pretty heavy on the sarcasm there. "--to grow balls and provide for a family. Not be 'sissy' and 'vexatious' in public."
“Jaskier…” she says quietly. Midge gives him a gentle kiss and then strokes his hair soothingly. “I like when you’re vexatious in public.”
The way he talks about his family makes it clear to Midge that his family supported him even less than hers supports her. At least she knows that her parents love her.
That actually makes him laugh. His body easily relaxes under the gentle touch of her affectionate hand.
"That's because you have excellent taste." He kisses her chest, right above her heart. "But thank you. It means a lot." A pause before talking again. "I said earlier I didn't want to ruin the mood, so... oops?"
“It’s okay,” she replies. “I like learning about you, even the things that aren’t so… shiny.”
Jaskier might be able to tell that Midge likes him. It’s a little bit more than just friends with benefits, if she really thinks about it. She doesn’t like thinking about it though, as it makes her a bit sad, knowing that he’s not interested in monogamy.
He hums in agreement. "I like learning about you, too. I suppose this is what I get after I poked you after your divorce."
There's a long pause while Jaskier draws random shapes with his fingertips on her stomach, humming to the rhythm of her heartbeat again. If he's already killed the mood and she doesn't mind it, then...
"A sorcerer burnt my fingers," he explains in a whisper, almost as if his voice was far away in another land. "He wanted to know where Geralt and Ciri were. I didn't tell him."
The silence is comfortable, though Midge doesn’t mind when Jaskier breaks it.
“You’re a loyal friend,” Midge tells him, gently stroking his hair. She takes his hand and lays kisses on his scarred fingertips. “Maybe not so much of an egotist.” She’s teasing.
His whole body shivers when she kisses those particular scars, but also a little sigh leaves his lips. Relief, comforted. Assured. It feels nice.
"My ego takes offense to that," he jokes back. He's glad to do so, to let her keep the mood light. "How much do I have to pay you to say that to my couple of arses at home?"
He laughs again. "A very fair price from a fair lady." A kiss for her chin because that's what he can reach, and he doesn't want to move. "Although, is it truly 'paying' if I'm getting orgasms out of it too?"
i feel like he and the cat are making the same face
“Oh, were you expecting orgasms in return?” Midge asks, leaning her head down to catch his mouth in a brief kiss.
“Is it too forward to ask you to play something for me?” Midge realizes that she’s never heard him play his lute before, despite the fact that he carries it everywhere.
Before he can answer, he's enjoying a new kiss. Playing dirty, missy! But he can't tease her for that either, because then she's making a request... a big one. Jaskier instantly beams.
"Forward? My sweet lady, I'll never say no to performing. And I did say I would serenade you, didn't I?"
After pecking her lips, he leaves the room to get his lute and a towel. He comes back to sit on the edge of the bed and covers his naked groin with the towel before resting the lute - his precious instrument mustn't be stained by sweat or cum.
He plays a few random chords while thinking where to begin, and decides to go for A Little Sacrifice. His eyes close as he remembers the day it happened, his voice full of emotion softly echoing in the darkness of the room.
The sight of him playing the lute while (nearly) naked, brings a smile to her face. Midge lays on her stomach as she listens to him.
While she’s excited to see Jaskier on the stage, nothing can compare to the intimacy of this performance. She can hear every word that he sings. It’s interesting that he’s chosen to sing a love song, though she supposes that most songs are about love anyway.
Midge gives him a little round of applause when he finishes. “Do you believe in the sort of true love that song talks about?”
Back to the heavy questions, it seems. It’s easier to do in the darkness.
He smiles at the applause, giving a slight bow as thanks. His hands still play some random chords while she talks, but they freeze when she asks that question. Dropping all the heavy topics tonight, mmh?
Jaskier's expression turns more serious, but there's no hesitation in his answer. "Yes." There are thousands of things running through his mind, including decades of pinning, so he tries to ignore them by adding- "The song is a true story. Geralt and I helped the prince and the siren find happiness."
When she appears on his shoulder, he tilts his head to rest it against her - he likes the touching and cuddling too. His hands go back to picking strings, trying to find the right answer for that question. It seems she's determined to destroy him tonight in more ways than sex.
"I'm single," he replies as he chooses his words carefully. "And I've only had one failed relationship many a year ago." A pause. His eyes glance at his burnt fingers. "But I like to think I've loved that strongly."
She’s asking hard questions and he’s indulging her, so for that, she’s grateful. A gentle kiss to his cheek as she debates how far to push, and ultimately decides to stop. He’s already told her that he doesn’t do relationships. Midge suspects that failed relationship in his past is affecting his current decision. She can understand what it’s like to have a relationship go horribly wrong and to maybe think love is no longer worth it.
When she notices him glance at his fingers, she knows he’s talking about love for his family, not romantic love.
“You have good things to offer a partner,” she says, before choosing to lighten the mood again. “The orgasms alone are worth it.”
"He became a siren, too. Magic can be as useful as it can be dangerous."
He's talking about romantic love - but it's probably for the best that she can't tell. Jaskier is choosing his words carefully on purpose, after all. When she mentions a partner, he thinks this conversation is about to sink really deeply into dangerous waters, but she finishes talking and thank the gods she's just joking.
Jaskier chuckles. "If only sex was all it took, mmh?" But to bring the mood back, he plays Fishmonger's Daughter with a big grin on his face. Humorous ditties are as important as love songs.
She wasn’t entirely joking. Midge thinks he has qualities that would make for a good partner. The sex is a wonderful cherry on top.
Midge grins when he starts to sing again, this song funnier and more lighthearted than the last one. She runs one of her hands through the hair on his chest and toys with his tuning fork necklace. Jaskier manages to complete the song without being totally distracted by her.
“I like when you sing to me,” she murmurs in his ear.
Jaskier throws his head back over her shoulder, eyes closed as he hums in bliss. Her hands always feel so good on him, especially her nails - they get his skin all tingly and sensitive. It's delightful.
"Do you?" His tone is teasing. "Because it seems to me that you're trying to distract me from doing so."
“Maybe. But I probably shouldn’t rile you up again, my sweet bard.” She kisses his ear and then gently bites his lobe. “There’s always tomorrow morning. Are you ready for bed?”
The biting makes him gasp. "I shall not, she says, yet she does it anyway!" He turns his head to kiss her cheek, clearly doing more teasing. "You are no vampiress, you are a demon." Then he grabs her hand to kiss it too before nodding. "Let me put my lute away."
Because his baby deserves to sleep safely and comfortably in its case. When he comes back, the towel is wet, and he uses it to clean the cum on her thighs. He works gently but quickly, not wanting to do any riling up either.
Then he joins her under the covers and brings her closer to cuddle.
Now it’s her turn to gasp dramatically. “A demon? So rude.”
While he goes to put the lute away, Midge pulls back the blankets and sheets from the bed. When Jaskier starts to clean her thighs, she smiles at him and kisses the top of his head. It’s such a sweet, intimate gesture, and it only makes Midge grow more fond of him.
She lies in his arms, feeling safe and warm. “Goodnight, Jaskier,” she replies, giving him a tender kiss to his lips.
it can Jaskier's phone with a call from his family, or Midge's from Joel/parents. your choice lol
Jaskier loves sleeping with a warm body against his, and he plans to stay in bed until late. They fell asleep pretty late already, so it's only fair to get their obligatory eight hours. Beauty calls and all.
His plans are ruined early in the morning by the ringing of a phone in the living room. Not the apartment one, but one of their devices hiding in their bags. Hard to tell which one.
Jaskier groans in frustration and hides his face in her neck. "Nope, nope, not doing that, too early for that."
Midge has missed sleeping next to somebody. Throughout the night, if she finds that she has strayed, she snuggles back up against him and he welcomes her with his arms wrapped around her. She buries her head in his chest, breathing in the sweet scent of him.
She’s in and out of sleep when she hears the phone ringing. Midge groans and rolls over. “That’s not my ring,” she murmurs. The devices have three to choose from and she didn’t pick this one.
"Of course it isn't," he grumbles as he reaches for her, getting more frustrated because she's rolling away from him. "Maybe if I ignore it, it'll just stop."
It doesn't stop. In fact, the basic phone ring becomes Toss a Coin, which means this is Yennefer using magic and Jaskier's dick is in danger. While cursing in every language he knows, Jaskier (very reluctantly) leaves the bed and drags his feet to the living room, where he grabs his bag... only to remember that his phone is in his jacket. More cursing while he finds it among his clothes on the floor.
His grumbling calms down just a bit when he hears Yennefer's exhausted voice. She and Geralt dealt with some big bads last night, and now she needs to rest instead of working on a potion order. Usually, she'd be handling the client, being a powerful woman and all, but she doesn't have the energy. Jaskier promises to take care of it-- only to suddenly choke on his own tongue when Yennefer teases him about his current activities. Just in case Midge has been hearing him, he changes to Elder and ends the conversation as soon as he has an opening.
On his way to the bathroom, he peeks into the bedroom and tells Midge-- "The snake wants you to know she'll cover up for you if you decide to chop my cock off."
Midge hears the tune change and vaguely wonders how the device is doing that, but she’s still too sleepy to really process it. She sneaks a look at the clock. 9 AM. Not horribly late, but much later than she normally sleeps in. Bits and pieces of Jaskier’s conversation float in and out, but then he’s speaking in another language and Midge stops paying attention.
When he returns to the bedroom, Midge is half covered in the sheet. She stretches as she looks up at him with half-closed eyes. “Yennefer?” she asks, then gives a short laugh. “Why would I want to chop off something that gives me orgasms?”
"Something about spending too much time with me not being good for your mental health," he replies from he bathroom. He's already opening both taps and finding the right temperature to fill up the tub.
Jaskier then relieves himself and washes his face really quickly - simply because the cold water helps him wake up. He'd love to go back to bed, but he has to visit that client and get ready for his gig, so he doesn't have much time to spare.
While the tub fills up, he returns to the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed next to Midge, bending over to kiss her lips. "Good morning."
He laughs. "Every artist is a little crazy." Or he hopes so, anyway.
Usually, Jaskier is nothing but a gentleman and lets ladies go first - however, the tub requires a different setup. He gets in first and sits against the back before opening his arms and legs, inviting Midge to sit between them.
"She needs me to deal with a client. So I'll have to leave soon, but I do have time for breakfast. That is, if there's food in this place." It occurs to him now that if the place is usually empty, the fridge may be too.
So very inviting. How can Midge say no? Taking his hand, she carefully steps into the tub and sits down between his legs, her back against his chest. She pouts a little when he says he has to leave soon, though they have spent quite a lot of time together, and she’ll see him later that night for his performance.
“The one thing I didn’t think of,” Midge laments. “There’s a cafe on the corner though.” It will require getting dressed, but Midge supposes that they’ll have to do that anyway.
"A cafe sounds good," he replies while wrapping his arms around her waist. A kiss is dropped on the back of her neck before he nuzzles it. "Last night was amazing. Thank you for indulging me."
It's not every day that he meets someone who can match his level of horny, and she went along with every idea he had. Amazing isn't enough to describe it, really.
“Thank you,” she replies with a sigh of satisfaction. Midge has never come so much in her life. Just when she thinks her body can’t give another orgasm, he manages to get one out of her. She hopes they’ll have time for something quick this morning, either in the tub or out of it.
She’s become insatiable.
Midge takes one of his hands and laces their fingers before lifting it to her lips and kissing his rings. “I had so much fun with you.”
"Glad to hear that." Since his hand is near her face, he takes the chance to tilt her head back and kiss her - slowly, sensually. He definitely wants something quick too. But he did make a promise.
He's happy to kiss back while he reaches for the soap, humming into her mouth when he feels her teasing his leg. Jaskier loves how playful she is, but he can't help but tease when the kiss breaks.
"You have an amusing idea of what a massage entails." He winks at her before slightly moving her forward - as much as he enjoys the feeling of her body against his, he's got a job to do. The soap is rubbed on her back until she's well lathered up, then Jaskier puts those calloused fingers to work. He starts at her shoulders and slowly makes his way around her back, gently yet still strong touches that make sure to catch every knot.
“Massages make my body feel good too,” she says, moaning softly when Jaskier starts to rub her back. Midge closes her eyes and enjoys the touch of his hands. Calloused though his fingers may be, they feel fantastic on her skin.
“You’ll just have to make sure you get all of my parts.”
A chuckle. "Worry not, my lady. I shall be very thorough."
He still takes his sweet time with her back, because he truly wants to show off his massaging skills. The fact that bathrooms in this world have great acoustics also help; he enjoys hearing her moans echoing on the walls.
Once he's done with her back, he lathers up his hands before his arms go around her waist again. They softly rub her belly as they move up to reach her breasts, covering them with soap as he massages those thoroughly as well. His mouth falls on the back of her neck, dropping open-mouthed kisses while his cock begins waking up against her arse.
When Jaskier moves his hands to her front, she takes the opportunity to lean back against him, her head on his shoulder. His touch to her breasts feels absolutely divine and her nipples harden almost immediately. This massage may not be explicitly sexual, but he can’t put his hands on her without turning her on.
Midge can feel his cock starting to press against her. Apparently this is a turn on for him too.
"What could possibly give you that idea?" he asks in a joking tone. "I mean, they are quite magnificent tits."
Since the fact that they're both quite into this is out in the open now, Jaskier stops his massaging just to play with her nipples, grinning when he feels how hard they already are.
"I think someone is enjoying this more than I do, however." He nibbles her earlobe before whispering into it. "Always so ready for me. It's addicting - intoxicating, really. I want to keep you on my lap all day." His hands go down, rubbing her belly and playing with her belly button. "Maybe I should call the client here, while you're bouncing on my cock." Calloused fingers only tease the top of her mound before going to her thighs to continue the 'massage' there. "Take you to the stage with me tonight so I can perform with my dick between your tits and mouth."
“I know,” she replies. Her tits are magnificent and he’s a lucky man. Honestly, she loves it when he plays with her breasts, especially when he pinches her sensitive nipples.
A moan leaves her mouth at the naughty images his words paint in her mind. “Have you put some kind of spell on me to make me want you all the time?” Midge asks. “Some potion in my drink that makes me constantly horny for you?” Because she pretty much is. Jaskier could very easily have her just about anywhere. Her fingers stroke slowly up one of his inner thighs. “Do you think you could manage to not moan over the phone while my tight cunt is around your cock?”
"The only spell I've used is opening the doors to release what you've kept hidden and chained for so long."
His whole body shivers when she touches his thigh and his hand falls on her mound, lazily rubbing on the outside for now. The warm water around them makes his body feel even hotter than his arousal already does.
"Is that a challenge, my lady? Do you think you could make me break?"
“No one else has brought out this side of me,” she admits. Joel did, to a certain extent, but it wasn’t even like this when they were first married.
His hand is so close to where she wants it, and yet so far. The teasing is so delightfully frustrating for her.
“I know I could.” Midge is very confident about that.
“This bath was supposed to clean me up and yet you’ve just made me even dirtier.” Her lips find his for another kiss, her back arching so that she can reach his mouth.
He laughs into the kiss and his free arm wraps around her waist to bring her as close as possible so she doesn't have to arch so much. The height difference really helps for positions like this, even if it means Jaskier's neck may complain later.
"I made it dirtier?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "Remind me whose toes started the teasing?"
His fingers finally slip in and start massaging her folds. "I love sex in the bathtub, but it does have one flaw: I can't feel how wet you are. Care to tell me?" His ego loves hearing how much she wants him.
His breath catches when she says since you told me good morning as she opens her legs. She truly is always so ready for him, he hasn't lied when he said she'll drive him crazy. Part of him wants to take her away for the weekend and see how many times she can fuck her in a day.
Jaskier is a firm believer in foreplay, but they are supposed to have a quickie now, aren't they? He's done lots of teasing last night. And he may not be as strong as Geralt, but he is pretty fit and Midge is so beautifully petite...
It's easy for him to turn her around on his lap, making her sit on his throbbing dick and causing water to splash everywhere. He uses that water to wash the soap off her breasts so he can close his mouth around them, adding a new hickey to the ones he made last night. His hips keep thrusting against her to rub his cock against her groin.
Midge squeals when Jaskier suddenly picks her up and turns her to face him. Water sloshes against the sides of the tub and over the edge. She loves it when she makes him seemingly lose control, and her squeal turns into a giggle. Her arms wrap around him as his lips suck at her breasts. She can feel his cock hard underneath her, throbbing against her folds.
“Jaskier,” she breathes. “You don’t have a condom…” That doesn’t stop Midge from grinding on top of him, but she still wants to give him the warning.
She always looks so pretty when she laughs! Jaskier groans against her breasts as his hands reach behind her to squeeze her ass, massaging it with open hands. It isn't until both her nipples are hard and perky that he talks again.
"Are you going to leave this tub? Because I'm not." His hands guide her down and center, so his length is fully trapped between her folds and the bottom of her ass. His mouth goes to her ear. "So better keep grinding, darling."
The way he’s sucking on her nipples and squeezing her ass has her so distracted that she can’t even form a whole sentence. What she’s trying to say is that if he wants to have sex with her without a condom, they should be safe. Should be. The rhythm method is not an exact science and Jaskier seems very averse to getting her pregnant. Not that she’s looking to get pregnant either.
Midge tries for whatever purchase she can get with her knees on the slick bottom of the tub. She keeps moving her hips on top of him, sliding his hard cock through her folds. It’s a lovely sensation though she can’t help but want more.
It's indeed a lovely sensation, and Jaskier keeps moaning against her breasts as his hips struggle to thrust, also wanting more. It would be okay, she says. She also offers her hand, but the first offer is growing in his mind now. It's not like he didn't do it before - back in his world, it's all he had. But it isn't a perfect method. Discovering condoms has truly spoiled him...
He's had enough orgasms last night, he thinks, to be in control now. He definitely isn't desperate or on the edge. Mmh.
"You want to feel me raw, Miriam?" he asks before his hand reaches for his hard cock and guides it to her entrance, slowly going in as he throws his head back to moan.
“Yes…” she whispers, then feels the head of his cock start to push inside of her. Midge moans at the sensation. It’s nice to be able to feel him without the condom, even if she knows they can’t do this very often. It’s risky.
With Jaskier inside of her, Midge isn’t thinking about risk. She rides him in earnest, making small waves in the bathtub. She braces herself with her hands on his chest and tosses her wet hair back, her breasts bouncing in time with her thrusts.
He hasn't fucked without a condom since he arrived, so feeling her walls wet and ready for him right on his skin feels even more amazing. There's no denying how good it is, and it puts ideas in his head for later.
Jaskier braces his feet on the edge of the tub so he can meet her riding with his thrusts, panting and moaning with every move. His nails dig into the skin of her arse and his neck bends over the back of the tub so he can admire her beautiful face and the way her breasts bounce.
"Gorgeous, just gorgeous... that's it, darling, so good for me... ride me hard, show my cock how much you like it raw."
It feels so perfect without the barrier of the condom between them. Midge squeezes her walls around him with each thrust back, tugging at his cock.
“Touch me…”
Her pleasure is building slowly, but stimulation to her clit will cause it to build exponentially. Leaning down, Midge presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Jaskier’s lips.
As soon as she makes her request, Jaskier's hand flies to her clit to rub it. He's happy to return the kiss as his other arm pushes her down so they can be pressed against each other. The kiss grows desperate with every thrust and becomes clumsy, but he still makes sure not to break it - he moans right into her mouth, looking for her tongue with his and sucking on it as if his life depended on it.
The water is starting to get cold, yet he isn't aware of it - both their bodies are rather hot at the moment. The water splashing just adds to the music of their moans and the amazing sound of her bottom pounding on his groin.
A spark of pleasure ignites inside of her as soon as she feels Jaskier’s fingers on her clit. Their kisses are messy and desperate, but Midge can’t stop. She responds with her own moan as her pleasure grows, angling her hips against his hand so that he touches her just right.
Pulling back from his face, she gasps for breath, her eyes screwed shut as she chases her orgasm.
"Do it," he says between moans. "Come on my cock, darling. Show me how you orgasm with no barriers on - I want to feel it all."
Knowing how much she likes it, his other hand reaches for her tit, squeezing it and pinching before he closes his mouth around it again. Cock, hand, mouth - they all touch as much of her as possible, hoping to make every inch of her body succumb to pleasure.
A few more thrusts and she’s gone, her moans echoing off of the tile walls of the bathroom. Her cunt spasms around his cock, squeezing it tightly as she rides out her pleasure. She tries to wring every last ounce of pleasure out of her orgasm before it subsides and she slumps forward against him.
Midge breathes softly against his neck, keeping his cock inside of her.
Her walls squeezing around his cock definitely push Jaskier toward the edge. He makes sure to help her ride out her orgasm first, not letting go of her clit until she collapses on top of him.
"Gorgeous, simply gorgeous," he whispers as he showers her face with kisses. His cock pounds into her just a few more times before he pulls out, then a shaking hand places it between her folds and the bottom of her buttcheeks. Jaskier desperately rubs his aching erection against her, her orgasm serving as lubricant even underwater. Soon Jaskier's blissful moan is echoing in the bathroom too, his seed falling on her arse just for a second before the water washes it away.
His kisses, his words of affection, his hands — they all make her feel so warm in the wake of her climax. Midge wants to help him reach his too, so she thrusts back against him once she’s recovered. She feels bereft when he pulls out, though she’s not surprised that he did. Jaskier isn’t taking any chances.
The way he thrusts between her folds and butt cheeks is a different but not unpleasant sensation. His orgasm is beautiful music to her ears, and she doesn’t mind feeling him come on her.
Midge gently strokes his hair and gives him a tender kiss. “How was that, my sweet bard?”
Her hand always feels great on his head, and Jaskier hums in delight while enjoying the afterglow. He's pretty content right now - nothing else matters except for the bliss zooming in his mind and the warm body against his.
It's her question that brings him back to reality.
"The perfect way to start the day, if I say so myself." He kisses her just as tenderly. "Standing ovation, my lady. I'd ask for a reprise if I had the time."
Reality is quite boring, but Midge has some things that she needs to get done today as well. With a sigh, she tries to stretch out her legs for a moment before standing on them.
“There’s always tonight.”
They’re seeing an awful lot of each other, aren’t they? Midge isn’t really complaining about it, but Jaskier was pretty clear about not wanting a relationship. And yet, he seems to cherish her so much. It leaves her with mixed feelings, considering that she’s not even sure if she wants a relationship.
[ OOC: want to fast forward to his show? ]
we can fast forward after this amazingly awkward moment lmao
Jaskier closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is why having friends-with-benefits can be so hard at times. Which is frustrating, because they're much more fulfilling than one-night stands. He likes having a connection with his lovers.
He throws water on his face and rubs his eyes, gathering the strength to have this conversation.
"Midge," he says looking up at her, not daring to stand up yet. "I'd love it if you come to see me perform. But tonight is Rainbow Road. That means I'm leaving that club with a man."
She isn't the only one who wants to be dicked real good.
His words hit her like a bolt of thunder and she deflates immediately like a popped balloon.
There’s a long moment of silence before Midge replies to him. “Oh. Right. Of course.”
She agreed to all of this, didn’t she? What was she expecting? She said that she could handle a relationship like this, that she wanted it, even.
Why does she feel like she’s been kicked in the ribs?
Midge feels foolish standing naked in the middle of the bathroom, so she wraps a towel around herself and starts to dry off.
“You said your family would be there tonight, right?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.
She’d like to meet them, if he wants her to. If she backs out now or doesn’t show up tonight, Jaskier will think that she can’t handle something casual. Midge has no choice. She has to go.
But she’ll make a quick exit afterwards so that she doesn’t have to see who he goes home with.
Fuck. Double fucking fuck. It hurts him to see her like this, it truly does. But he's also done this song and dance before - so many fucking times, in fact. He doesn't want to give her false hopes, and he doesn't want to be chained. This is to protect both of them.
It does make him wonder if she can truly handle this. A worried Jaskier watches her for a second and remembers how new all this is to her - this isn't a woman playing some kind of game, she's a sheltered housewife. So he decides to give her a chance; she's earned that much. It may not be as fun as new sex experiences, but it's another thing she can learn about the real world, just like Jaskier got to see what the real world outside the fancy family estate was like when he was just a teen.
He leaves the tub and grabs another towel to help her with her hair, staying behind her in case she doesn't want to look him in the eye right now.
"Yes, they will," he answers as he gently dries her hair, softly petting her head in the process. "But you don't have to come if it makes you uncomfortable. I'll have other gigs."
Jaskier’s right that she’s never done something like this before. He’s only the third man she’s ever slept with, and she was married or engaged to the other two. What she didn’t expect was to grow so attached to him so quickly. That’s on her, though. Surely she’s old enough to not confuse sex with love. Maybe that’s what this is, the consequences of so many happy hormones coursing through her brain after so many orgasms. She’ll feel better tonight.
In spite of herself, Midge closes her eyes when she feels him drying her hair. “Scared that Yennefer is going to tell me something embarrassing about you?” she asks. “I’ll be fine.”
It’s easier to lie to herself when she can’t see either of their reflections in the bathroom mirror.
She's trying to kid around and he appreciates the effort, but it may also be a joke to cover up the other stuff, which is worrisome. He doesn't want to treat her like an idiot, though. So for now, he won't push. She deserves the chance - if it ever happens again, then he'll insist on having a new conversation about the topic.
"As long as you're sure." Jaskier kisses her shoulder before stepping back, leaving the towel on top of her head as a protective hood. He then steps back into the tub to wash up really quickly - he soaped her up, but he didn't clean himself. "Are we still having breakfast at the cafe?"
He isn't sure where their boundaries lie at the moment.
Midge is the type of person to make jokes and make light of things in order to hide her real feelings, because there are some things that will eat her from the inside if she doesn’t turn them into jokes. The insecurity that lies very deeply inside of her that she’ll never be good enough for another man to love. She buries it, makes jokes about it, because it’s one of the few things that truly makes her sad.
Feelings safely tucked away, she smiles at Jaskier. “Sure.” They’ll discuss other things and Midge won’t think about his gig until it’s time to go to the club. “I need some coffee after all that sex.”
"Ah, yes, the bitter fuel that keeps this city running." He doesn't like coffee very much, unless it has a healthy amount of cream and milk.
At least breakfast goes well. Once they're out and about, chatting about everyday things, it seems Midge's mood improves. Jaskier hopes it's a good sign for the future. Before they split, he makes sure to explain that these flowers will live longer, but they still need their water. Even magic needs its fuel.
The client is a complete ass, but honestly, Jaskier takes out his frustration from earlier with him, so it works out. The day passes in a blur, and before he knows it, he's at the club getting ready to perform.
He isn't on stage yet when Midge arrives. She'll notice only a handful of men turn to look at her - all the attention she gets comes from other women.
Yet it's still a very deep, manly voice that talks to her from the dark corner of the club.
"Did he bribe you to come?" The voice is, of course, Geralt's. He's sitting at a table with simple black jeans, a black leather jacket, and -you guessed it- a black t-shirt. A hand is on his beer pint, the other one is around Yennefer's shoulders. She also wears black, but her dress is elegant and beautiful, with touches of white and gray that emphasize her silhouette. A glass of whine is in her manicured hands, and the shadow that Midge recommended frames her eyes.
Midge dresses for the night at the club like she would any other, in a cocktail dress with heels and tasteful jewelry. She notices that a few of the women give her a once over, but Midge doesn’t react to them one way or another.
Geralt’s voice is hard to miss and Midge gives him a smile. “What do you mean?” she asks. “I’m here every week.” She wonders briefly if they think she’s a fool coming to a place like this. Regardless, even if Jaskier strikes out tonight (and she doubts he will), he’s not coming home with her. He’s made his choice for tonight and Midge won’t settle for being a consolation prize.
“You must be Yennefer,” Midge says to the woman whom Geralt is holding onto for dear life. The men in this club must have gone nuts when they saw Geralt, only to see Yennefer at his side. “Midge. Nice to meet you.”
She takes a seat next to Yennefer, not wanting to sit too close to Geralt in case the witch thinks she’s making a run on her man. “Your makeup looks great. Is that the liner that Jaskier bought you?”
Geralt snorts at her joke, and coming from him? That's high praise.
Yennefer keeps a close eye on Midge, curious about the woman Jaskier talks about so much. She does notice Midge's style and respects her taste. Her choice of seat doesn't go unnoticed; it confirms she's as smart as Jaskier said. Yennefer can appreciate that. Without Triss and Sabrina here, her contact with other women (besides her daughter) has been low. Maybe Jaskier is onto something here.
"Likewise," Yennefer replies with a nod. "Yes, it is. You have good taste." She knows who recommended it, alright. "Except for your music preferences."
Midge can tell that Geralt is not the type of man who laughs often, so to hear him laugh at something she said is very satisfying.
A waiter comes to take her order and she asks for a martini before turning back to Geralt and Yennefer.
“Yeah, well, try not to hold it against me,” Midge replies, realizing that she’s really insulting Jaskier. His ego does need a bit of deflating, doesn’t it? Midge did nothing but prop it up all last night. She guesses that’s what five orgasms in 24 hours does to a woman.
There’s silence at the table for a moment as Midge observes the other two, each of them with otherworldly eyes and auras. She’s never had much experience with the magic-using community here, though most of them don’t seem as ‘high fantasy’ as Geralt and Yennefer. Neither of them are very talkative either, so it’s up to Midge to do what she does best.
Geralt shrugs. "We are here too." So they all have 'terrible music taste', really. Nobody can hold it against anyone, no matter how much Yennefer likes to keep the tough mask up. They all have a soft spot for the bard.
Midge's next comment makes Geralt feel a bit awkward - even after all these years, he still doesn't like how Jaskier presents him as some kind of big hero. His self-esteem doesn't allow him to see himself as much.
"He exaggerates a lot."
"I sure hope so," Yennefer says at the same time, showing her completely opposite reaction to compliments. She may not be Jaskier, but she thinks highly of herself, too. "He spoke highly of you as well. You must've caused quite an impression to stand out among his usual lovers like that."
Geralt sighs, knowing Jaskier will get mad at her for that comment later.
Midge grins when husband and wife give conflicting answers. Geralt’s humbleness is refreshing, though Midge likes Yennefer’s confidence.
The witch’s comment takes her aback. Midge doesn’t think it’s intended to be a backhanded compliment, the way that some women insult each other with kindness. And yet, she’s not sure how she feels about being referred to as one of Jaskier’s lovers. It’s what she is, of course, though saying it out loud is rather blunt. Is it a good thing that he’s spoken about her to his family?
She clears her throat, her cheeks a bit pink. “Yes… well. I was glad I could come tonight. It’s one of the few nights when I didn’t have a gig too.” It doesn’t really matter that they’re at Rainbow Road. Even if the gig was at Elftown, he still could have gone home with someone else. Would it have been better or worse for her if it were a woman?
Not wanting to dwell too much on whatever is going on between she and Jaskier, Midge changes the subject. “How are you finding Earth?”
As Midge's cheeks turn pink, Geralt's nose wiggles, and he smirks.
Yennefer sips her wine while watching Midge closely, studying her reactions. Her eyebrows raise at the change of subject, but she doesn't comment on it.
"It's been... interesting, to say the least," she replies as she puts her glass down. "Mostly, it's been relief. We're willing to overlook this realm's quirks if it gets us away from war." From Nilfgard.
"Too much fucking paperwork," Geralt adds with a frown.
Geralt, Midge likes you, even if you can apparently smell her embarrassment. His blunt assessment of too much paperwork is bang on.
“You could have landed in a worse country,” Midge says. “Immigrants have been coming to America for over two hundred years.”
Her martini arrives and Midge has a sip, gazing up at the stage. “Jaskier said you had a rough night last night.” He’d given her what basic details he knew over breakfast. They’d had to deal with a monster, which was why he had to deal with one of Yennefer’s clients.
"I doubt it could be worse than our homeworld," Yeneffer replies. Cirilla isn't wanted here, and that beats everything else. "But if our landing place had been different, that's what portals are for."
I hate portals, Geratl grumbles under his breath. And that sound becomes a growl when Midge asks about last night. He drinks more of his beer before answering, although alcohol doesn't affect him that much.
"People here keep complaining about the monsters invading through the portals, but they still want to touch them and take pictures. So many idiots getting hurt. It was a fucking mess."
That might be the most animated that Midge has ever seen Geralt get, which is pretty amusing to her.
“With some people, it’s very tempting to let natural selection run its course,” she replies. “Do you get called in by anyone in particular? Local governments?”
"Maybe I should let natural selection take care of them," he grumbles. Her question gets a shrug from him. "Whoever pays."
Yennefer shakes her head, a bit tired of Geralt not paying attention to that kind of thing. She's about to tell Midge that Jaskier will have better knowledge of their clients, but at that moment the lights go down and the announcer invites Jaskier the bard to the stage.
Jaskier's wearing his full bard outfit today, except for the hat. Long coat, brocade vest, big puffy sleeves under the jacket. He's also made his eyes very smoky with the makeup Midge recommended, which emphasizes his blues. People here like it when he's colorful and outlandish; in fact, they encourage it. Saying fuck it to what is expected of their sexes is what their community is about, and Jaskier loves to encourage it. Besides, it feels fucking good to go all out like this.
He leaves the lute against the stool by the microphone before sitting down... with a guitar. Learning new instruments has been an obsession since he arrived, and while he hasn't mastered them, the guitar is close enough to the lute for him to do at least one song.
With a soft smile, he winks at the audience before he starts playing Love Run, his smooth voice flowing into the mic and echoing in the club. Jaskier looks at every face in the audience, making them feel like he's talking directly to them. When he notices Midge, his eyes soften and his smile grows.
Soon, couples are on the dance floor, rocking close to each other while basking in the lyrics. Midge may even receive offers to dance from other women. Geralt leans back and Yennefer rests her head on his shoulder, both of them keeping their eyes on the bard with all the attention in the world. They may give him shit, but it's clear they still care for him and do like the sound of his voice.
Midge’s attention turns to Jaskier as soon as he’s on the stage. He looks good in his ridiculous bard outfit; as out of fashion as it may be, he wears it with such confidence. Midge’s attraction to him is obvious. Even as she allows herself to feel desire while looking at him, she scolds herself for it. She shouldn’t be so easy for him. Besides, Geralt can probably smell her right now.
She politely turns down any women that ask her to dance. It’s flattering, but she’s not interested. Jaskier sounds great and Midge sits back to enjoy the show.
Having a bunch of people get horny when Jaskier performs is something Geralt has been dealing with for decades now, so he's learned to tune it out. Midge's smell is barely noticeable since, right now, there's a room full of desire, either for the bard or between couples.
Once the slow song is done, everyone claps and Jaskier bows to the crowd. But he isn't done yet. He grabs the mic and brings it close, speaking with his more seductive voice.
"Good evening, my rainbow walkers. Are we ready to have some fun?" The crowd cheers as he grabs his lute. "I think a few regulars may know this one~"
He jumps off the stage to join the crowd as he starts playing his tavern songs and funny ditties. More people join the dance floor, even without a partner. They're happy to stomp, clap, and do some of the moves Jaskier has taught them, going from arm to arm around the dance floor as if it truly was an old-timey tavern. Jaskier flows around them, never missing a beat as the end of a song becomes the beginning of another one in a seamless connection. He smiles and winks for everyone, not minding it when men get too close to brush their bodies against his.
When he has a clear view of his family's table, he grins at Midge and tilts his head, inviting her to join, too.
With the personal invitation from Jaskier, Midge gets up to join the group on the dance floor. Life’s too short not to be adventurous.
She gets the hang of the dances very quickly and is soon lost in the crowd, dancing with both men and women alike, though never partnered for long. It’s easy to get lost in the music, though her eye always searches for Jaskier. He’s in his element, performing his upbeat songs for the dancing crowd around him. Seeing him glow like this only makes him more attractive to her.
Jaskier jumps from song to song as he hops from dancing partner to dancing partner, even spending a few seconds to whirl around with Midge. He's genuinely happy to see her here, both because he likes having her around and because it may mean she's able to handle this.
After a few more songs, Jaskier returns to the stage to end his performance with another slow tune so the couples can enjoy themselves one more time. By the time he's done, the whole crowd claps for him with all their energy, and he bows a couple of times just to enjoy the attention. On his way out, he even blows a few kisses.
Minutes later, Jaskier approaches the table with open arms.
"Absolute success, and I'm kicking out anyone who dares to deny it."
Midge gives him another round of applause when he approaches the table. After Jaskier hugs his family, Midge goes in for a somewhat awkward hug. She’s still not sure what her role is here, or if she should be making herself scarce. Jaskier seems happy to see her though and she relaxes once his arms are around her.
“I could make jokes, but I won’t,” Midge tells him after she pulls back. “That was wonderful.”
Not to pump up his ego, but it’s true. Midge had a lot of fun watching him and it seems like the rest of the crowd did too.
"Thank you, my witty lady. I'm glad someone has good taste around here."
Both Geralt and Yennefer roll their eyes at that, so in revenge, Jaskier steals Yennefer's cup to drink her wine. She smacks his hand as he does so, but that doesn't stop him.
"Get me kicked out, this place is too loud," Geralt says in obvious sarcasm, but Jaskier kicks his leg anyway. He barely feels it. Geralt is supposed to be working on being a better friend after the mountain fiasco, though, so he adds- "You did well." Yennefer nods, and in both cases, those little things mean a lot in their grumpy ways of communicating.
Jaskier smiles more sincerely instead of his smug grin, and he's about to answer them when a gasp escapes his lips. He turns to Midge. "Speaking of jokes! Do you want to take over the stage? I can talk to the manager."
She enjoys watching the dynamic between the three of them. It’s clear that Geralt and Yennefer don’t just put up with him, but feel real affection for Jaskier. Midge would love to hear the story one day of how they all came together.
She’s a little surprised when Jaskier asks if she wants to get on stage. Her plan was to finish her drink and leave no later than Geralt and Yennefer do. With Jaskier’s concert over, they’re probably heading out soon and Jaskier will be on the prowl for whomever he’s going home with that night. Midge hesitates, eying the stage.
“Do you think they would let me?” Midge asks. And will Jaskier have the decency to at least wait until she leaves before cozying up to someone else?
"I could simply--" Yennefer's hand glows as she speaks, but she's interrupted by Geralt growling no.
"Let's leave that for Plan B," Jaskier decides, which earns him a glare from Geralt. He really hates it when they team up against him. "Be right back."
Jaskier rushes to the counter and bends over it, shaking his perky butt in the air while flirting with the manager. It only takes him a few minutes and a hand strategically placed on the manager's bicep to get what he wants.
He returns to the table with a fruity drink in his hand and a smug grin on his face. "The stage is yours, my lady," he announces as he sits next to Geralt. "Last door on left."
Midge isn’t sure what just happened, though she’s still staring at Yennefer’s previously glowing hand. Was she about to do some kind of magic?
When Jaskier tells her she can get on stage, she’s actually kind of nervous. Midge doesn’t really need time to prep. She’s done her jokes dozens of times and she’s good at improvising others. She’s just not sure how this crowd will react to her.
Any exposure is good exposure. She wills her feet to walk to the stage.
People in the club turn to look at her as she approaches the mic. Midge’s eyes dart to Jaskier, who is smiling at her. She takes a breath.
“Uh, hi. Good evening. I’m Mrs. Maisel. I hope you don’t mind that I’m up here saying a few things. My friend Jaskier has so graciously offered me the stage. Let’s give him another round of applause.”
The club roars its appreciation for the bard and Midge claps too.
“Yes, Jaskier is the only person I know whose tits are nicer than mine, though I think there might be disagreement about that amongst some of the women here tonight.”
[ OOC: I’m probably going to handwaive most of her set because I’m not good at writing stand up lol. ]
lmao dying at the tits jokes. and of course!!! wasn't expecting you to write the whole set.
Jaskier blows a kiss at her when she mentions him, ignoring Geralt and Yennefer mockingly asking her friend?. He laughs pretty hard at her joke, both because it's good and because it rubs his ego. It even gets a smirk from certain two immortals.
The joke is well received by the crowd, too, of course, especially the women. They cheer and wolf-whistled - a female voice from the back even yells exactly what she wants to do to Midge's tits.
Well, what else was she supposed to refer to him as? She wasn’t going to call him her fuck buddy.
Geralt actually has the nicest tits, but there’s no way Midge is going to make jokes about him.
The laughter boosts her confidence as always and she hears the heckle from the back of the room.
“Ma’am, please, control yourself. Save it for Marlene Dietrich. I heard the Sewing Circle is looking for new members.”
Midge hits her stride then, moving into her usual jokes, though trying to tweak them for the crowd here. She absolutely commands the stage, as more and more of the club’s eyes turn to watch her.
After about ten minutes, she wraps it up. They’re not here to see a comedy act and she’s not being paid to do one.
“Anyway, thanks for letting me get up here. You’ve been a great audience. I’m Mrs. Maisel… goodnight!”
Her act is an absolute success and she gets lots of clapping from the crowd. Jaskier is happy to see another step in her career going forward but also hopes the community has found another ally. He leaves the table and orders a Martini, intending to take it to her as 'pay'...
However the door that goes backstage has been blocked by women, who immediately surround Midge when she comes out. Jaskier finds this incredibly amusing, so he leans back against the bar and watches Midge deal with it while biting his lower lip not to laugh too hard.
“Oh! God. Hi…” There are a lot of women dressed like Susie surrounding her right now, offering to buy her drinks. It’s very flattering, and Midge actually blushes a bit. She’s never received this kind of attention from other women.
Eventually, she’s able to politely extricate herself from the gaggle of women and make her way to where Jaskier is at the bar. She thanks him for the offered martini and takes a sip.
“So, I think that went well.” Or at least it did to a certain population of women who are sorry about Midge’s divorce and wonder if she’s interested in trying something different.
“Thanks for helping me get on stage.” Midge was glad to do it, and glad that the crowd had enjoyed her jokes.
Rising to her toes, Midge kisses Jaskier on the cheek, but that’s as far as she goes with physical intimacy. She’s not sure what’s expected of her here, as she’s trying to respect the fact that Jaskier is looking for a man tonight. He probably doesn’t want Midge hanging all over him. Still, it feels so strange after last night.
“I’m glad I got to meet Yennefer,” she says. “I think she begrudgingly tolerates you.” Midge’s tone makes it sound like that’s a positive thing.
He wouldn't mind her getting affectionate at all - people here know he does things casually, and those who don't, well- they should learn it sooner rather than later. Still, he understands what she's doing and respects it. Appreciates it, even.
He snorts at he comment. "It's alright, you can say she hates my guts." He winks, clearly joking. "She's a bitch, I'm a bitch, it was bound to happen." He grins as his tone grows in teasing. "I'm glad you liked her. Here I thought you'd be jealous of her makeup."
It isn’t entirely selfless. Midge is holding back. If he doesn’t want to go home with her tonight, then she doesn’t want to cuddle up to him here. He doesn’t get to have her like that.
Midge shrugs. “Her makeup looks good. I like mine better. A bit more subtle.” She sips her martini. “She and Geralt seem well-suited.”
"You truly think so?" He's genuinely surprised by her comment, and he can't help but turn around to look at the couple at the table. They have come a long way and are in a good place now, but as someone who has seen all the steps in the middle and the judgment coming from third parties, Jaskier is still surprised by positive comments like this.
"To think I used to rant to Geralt about how she was ruining his life," he says with a chuckle. "Her people weren't happy either. A fine lady supposedly deserves better than a wild man." He pauses as he wonders if Midge's parents have commented on the flowers. "They sorted things out before we came here, but I admit I was worried war would tear the family apart. So I'm glad this place has given them stability." He tilts his head at Midge. "Not many people see that."
Midge follows his gaze back to the couple. She’s only seen them together for this short amount of time, but she thinks they work well together.
“They certainly look good,” Midge replies. A fine lady and a wild man. He could be describing the two of them, couldn’t he? “They balance each other out, his humility and her confidence. And it’s clear that neither of them are social butterflies.” Midge shrugs again. “It probably works for them. Imagine if one of them were wildly social and the other one wasn’t?”
Thank goodness she and Jaskier are both extroverts.
Humility? More like self-hate, but Jaskier isn't about to say that. The last part, though - he has to laugh pretty hard at that. Sweet, sweet irony.
"You're just describing twenty years of me dragging Geralt to places," he replies between chuckles. "Yennefer can be more social, but only if it's with people who can keep up with her. She appreciates good conversation, but she has 'no time for idiots'." He signs the quotation marks to indicate that's what Yen said. "I bet you could handle her."
Jaskier thinks Yennefer needs to get a bunch of female friends, but it's been hard to achieve that here.
“I probably could,” Midge replies casually. “She’s a little intimidating.”
More than a little, but as soon as Midge can stop feeling like she’s about to get turned into a frog at any second, they should be fine.
“It’s a strong personality. Most women aren’t like her.” Surely Jaskier has noticed that. She glances up at him. “Should I invite her for coffee or something?”
Midge can take the initiative if Jaskier thinks Yennefer won’t.
"Only a little?" His tone is amused. "Wow, she's been holding back, then."
Indeed, Yen's very different, and Jaskier likes that - he likes strong personalities. Of course, it took him years to appreciate it, but that's a different matter.
He beams when Midge considers befriending her. "You truly are interested? That would mean a lot." He glances at the table before looking back at Midge. "Let me chat her up during the week before I give you her number, does that work for you?"
“Sure,” Midge says. “I guess I could use some friends too.” It’s been difficult maintaining friendships after the divorce, since so many of her friendships involved being part of a couple. She still has Imogene. And Susie? “How fickle is she about using magic against people?”
Her eyes soften as they meet Jaskier’s. “You were really great tonight,” she tells him quietly. “The crowd here loves you.”
Another chuckle. "As long as you don't do anything that angers her, you'll be fine. Worry not, my lady - as a fellow woman who is trying to make it in a sea of pompous dicks, you've already earned sympathy in her eyes. She'll agree to all the things you say on stage."
He smiles softly in return. "Thank you. I admit it's my favorite place to perform. No need to hide anything here." He looks at the crowd, admiring all the people who have finally found the freedom to flirt. "I know there have been one or two comments about otherworlders, but they aren't common. This is a non-bigotry space." He nudges Midge playfully. "If you wish to perform here again, let me know and I'll get the manager's card for Susie. Most performers avoid it to 'protect their reputations'. We could do with the extra support."
Hopefully Yennefer isn’t hot tempered. This friendship might end before it gets off the ground.
“Ironically, Susie might be the one who doesn’t want me to perform here,” Midge says, sipping her drink. Her manager might see it exactly as that - putting Midge’s reputation at stake. Or she might think that it’s not high profile enough for her. “Do Hollywood types come in here?”
Jaskier wonders why Midge calls it ironically. It's because he knows about Susie, or because of her manager policies? Since he isn't sure if Susie is out, he decides not to ask.
"I heard stories of actors and musicians coming in disguise because they keep the truth from the public. But they're simply that - clients. They don't perform. And I don't think talent hunters come around either."
Maybe Midge is assuming, because she’s never said it out loud, but Susie is a lesbian. So, no, she’s not out, at least not to Midge. Still, it’s ironic that Susie wouldn’t want Midge to perform in a gay club.
“She won’t like that,” Midge replies. “But, not every performance that I do needs to go through her. I’m allowed to take the gigs that I want.”
He smiles proudly at her. "I agree. And good to know, too. I've been trying to get used to the way this world works, but I must admit - having someone telling me what to do with my art sounds... controlling." He wrinkles his nose. "Like witches assigned to be royalty advisors."
She hums in her throat. “Susie’s the whole reason I’m a comic. She told me that I could do this as a career and that she wanted to represent me. I don’t think she’s ever done this before, but there’s no denying that she knows the New York comedy scene. She’s a fierce negotiator, way better at it than I ever could be. It’s easier to let her deal with the bookings and payements. I trust her enough to do right by me. I still have to sign the contracts.” So far, everything has seemed aboveboard.
“Witches are assigned to work for royalty where you come from?”
"And I am grateful to her for putting you out there. Her knowledge alone is worth gold. The concepts just--" A shrug. "--bothers me." An awkward pause. "Although I suppose I'm a manager for my family, in a way."
He nods at her question. "If by 'work for' you mean 'they pretend to be advisors when actually they're manipulating the kings to control the realm from the shadows', then yes."
For the first time around Midge, he feels kind of awkward and he looks down at his feet. "Yeah, I guess I don't."
Is he managing himself alright? He isn't sure. This "industry" has been a hell to navigate. What does success look like here anyway? Jaskier never thought that something could give the Continent politics a run for their money.
He looks up again with a snort. "And that's probably why she didn't last long in the job. But don't ask her unless she brings it up first. Even I don't know all the details."
“What’s wrong?” she asks. The shift in his mood is evident. Was it something that she said?
“I won’t. So what you’re saying is that the magic users actually control everything where you come from?”
Magic users and non-magic users have clashed on Earth since the beginning of time. It’s only recently that they’ve finally started to put their differences aside.
Usually, he's the one telling Geralt to open up, share his troubles so they can work on them. Talking about your feelings is important! Right now, though, he doesn't want to ruin the mood. And being unsure about his career is one of the few insecurities he has, which he isn't proud of.
"Just frustration about feeling like an eighteen-year-old again. Don't worry." It's not a complete lie, at least. He does feel like a little bird newly out of the nest again.
"I wouldn't say everything, but they're indeed one of the main groups of power. But don't include Geralt in that. Sorcerers may be fine, but witchers are seen as the lowest of the low." He kinda growls that last part, forever angry at the bigotry.
Midge could push, but she won’t. Jaskier will hopefully tell her in time. This industry isn’t easy. It takes a long time to get anywhere, and having to start all over again must be agonizing.
“That’s what he is? A ‘witcher’?” Midge turns her eyes towards Geralt. “Seems like he performs a pretty important function for everyone. And looks hot while doing it.”
Yennefer is well out of earshot. Midge thinks she’s safe.
He has to laugh at that, even if he does agree with it.
"Next time he comes back covered in monster guts, I'll make sure to stop at your place so you can have a good sniff." He pauses and taps his chin, pretending to think hard about the subject. "Although I don't know if I want you to talk about his tits instead of mine."
She nods seriously. “It’s true. I might end up working them into my act. I haven’t even seen them and I’m sure they’re impressive.” Midge eyes Jaskier. “Yours aren’t so bad either.”
Despite the fact that she’s trying to remain aloof tonight, flirting with Jaskier is like breathing. Midge does it naturally without even thinking about it.
"I ended up working them into a song, so trust me, seeing them will change you forever. Biggest tits you'll ever admire in your life."
He isn't even kidding, even if he's keeping up the teasing. A hand is raised to ask for a drink - they could go back to the table, but they're having fun here and he isn't about to ruin that. It's how he always acts in clubs, anyway - it's rare for him to stay at a table, he flutters from pretty face to pretty face.
“I don’t know if I should be offended,” Midge says with an exaggerated pout. “I have the most life-changing tits, thank you very much.”
She declines another drink, planning to leave soon. Before leaving her apartment earlier, she’d told her parents that she wouldn’t be out late tonight. It’s the least she can do after spending the night in Midtown last night.
“They’re very cozy,” she agrees. “I liked sleeping on them.”
He's dying to kiss that pout, but since she's holding back on the affection, he'd better follow along. More tapping of his chin.
"Mmh, since those two are enhanced by magic, I suppose you do win first place for best tits." He turns around to look at 'those two' and sees they're leaving the table. "Fuck, I should say goodbye." But first he turns to Midge- "Are you staying for a dance, at least?"
...ah. He got so comfortable chatting with her that he forgot about the whole deal. Jaskier winces at the question and rubs his forehead.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's so easy to get lost in conversation with you." He takes a moment to make a gesture at his friends, asking them to wait. "Whatever you choose to do, I'll respect it. No hard feelings." A soft smile. "I can even ask Geralt to give you a ride, if you want to test the tit theory."
“I should probably go. I told my parents that I wouldn’t be out very late tonight.” Midge scoffs at that. “Oi, I sound 16… Anyway, I’ll take a ride if he’s offering one.”
It’s best if she leaves now. Dancing with him will only make her want him when she knows that she can’t have him tonight.
He laughs at her comment. "I bet you didn't do anything like this when you were 16." A waste, if you ask him. He takes her hand and kisses it. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot."
They join the others at the door and Jaskier convinces Geralt to give Midge a ride without much trouble. They discuss the drinks and the club, which Yennefer and Geralt appreciated because they felt comfortable in. Still not exactly their scene, but better than the average 'classy' restaurant - those may be calmer, but they get stared at a lot (and not for sexy reasons).
Geralt gets on his bike and offers Midge the other helmet with an arched eyebrow.
"Or is your hair delicate too?"
"Oi!" Jaskier complains, knowing that's a jab at him. Yennefer just looks amused.
Midge kisses his cheek again. “Thank you for inviting me. You were wonderful and I had a great time.” She really did, even if she thinks she likes it better when Jaskier sings for her one on one.
Riding a motorcycle in her dress and heels is going to be interesting, but Midge is game. She takes the offered helmet and straps it on her head. “My skull is more delicate than my hair.” It’s the end of the night anyway. Her hair can get messed up.
She turns to Jaskier before she leaves. “Will you text me?” Having him text her is probably easier than her trying to divine when he’s alone and ready to talk.
"I will," Jaskier answers with a nod. Yennefer opens her mouth to say something mocking, but Jaskier complains in Elder. The last thing Midge will hear before Geralt takes off is the two of them bickering and Geralt's sigh.
He hates the helmet, but he hates cops more, so he wears it to avoid trouble. Geralt drives pretty fast, but thanks to his enhanced reflexes, he's become a great driver in a short time. At the red lights, he checks on Midge for directions.
Once they reach her apartment, he only says goodbye to her with a nod. It isn't until she's about to cross the door that he finally thinks of something to say.
"I know he can be a lot. So-" An awkward pause. "Thanks." That's the best way he can express I don't know why you showed up and dealt with him flirting with everyone in the dance floor.
This is starting to remind her of when her grandparents used to speak Yiddish around her. Usually it was because it was something they didn’t want her to hear. Thankfully, Geralt takes off before she has to hear much more.
He’s a careful driver and Midge feels safe on the bike with him. Also, she can’t lie, it’s really nice to wrap her arms around his muscled abdomen.
Outside her apartment building, she hands the helmet back to him and nods in response. She’s used to him being a man of few words.
When he speaks again, she turns around. Midge can’t read his thoughts, but perhaps Geralt doesn’t realize that she and Jaskier aren’t exclusive?
“Believe it or not, I actually like him,” Midge replies.
Geralt does not seem like the type to mince words, so Midge takes what he’s saying to heart. If it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t be saying it. His gaze with those golden eyes is absolutely penetrating.
“Thank you, I guess. He and I aren’t… it’s not a relationship.”
"I know," Geralt replies without hesitation. "But you aren't just fucking him either." Yep, definitely not a man who minces words. "And that's fine. But make sure not to get caught in his hurricane."
He's seen enough women think I can fix him to know what happens.
It's actually a mix of his nose and Jaskier's stories. He nods at the thanks. "I better go back before Yen chops his dick off and you're only left with his rambling." Geralt, please.
The next day, Jaskier texts her in the middle of the afternoon.
Soooo How mighty were the tits?
awww I picked it because I don’t get to use it very often and I love her little face
Jaskier laughs as he takes tea and snacks to the garden, hoping to get some writing done.
It's not like I expected you to grope him! But if you wrap your arms around his torso high enough, you can feel the underboobs. Ah, but experiencing the torso itself is quite an experience too. The trip was not a waste then. I hope he scared one fancy neighbor or two.
The afternoon is a good time for Jaskier to text her. The kids are napping. Usually. If she can wrangle them into bed.
Yeah, speaking of that, my neighbors have already blabbed to my parents about the big mysterious man who drove me home last night. My parents are convinced that he gave me the flowers.
The idea of Geralt buying flowers for someone is absolutely hilarious, thank you for the mental image. Tell your parents and neighbors that you've been in contact with an otherworlder to discuss security for the building, since monster attacks are becoming more common. Which is not a lie, by the way, you know who to call if you find trouble.
Of course, if you want to say that you've caught a bad boy in leather, that'd be extremely funny as well.
Technically she doesn’t love him yet but she’s slowly falling as well
He doesn't answer as fast because he's searching the meaning of 'rabbi'. Ah. Well, she's joking about it, so hopefully he can too?
Of course, of course, we need to exorcise the naughty out of you. Don't you know? A bit of prayer and a longer skirt will make you a good girl again. How dare you show off your ankles, truly a sin.
Indeed they do. If you ask me, it sounds like the fun people aren't exactly in Heaven.
That depends. You want an answer that will calm them down or one that will mess with them? Because I've learned the term "boytoy" and it's spectacular.
He would not appreciate that it’s a sex thing though.
I don’t have fans, unless you count the men at The Wolford who heckle me to show them my tits.
I told them that you’re my friend and you liked my show the other night.
[ OOC: I’m tagging with a Jaskier at Folkmore and he introduced himself with his full name and title, though said that she should call him Jaskier. It was funny to me since yours doesn’t want to tell her all of that yet lol. ]
True. I may like pretty words and how witty you are, but it's fun when you are 'crass' too. Shows all the corruption doing its job. How scandalous of you to have a dirty mouth!
That's pretty funny. And will you be thinking of what we did with it while you wash it?
The two of them can’t text without it turning dirty.
You love my mouth, especially when it’s dirty.
You want me to think about how you sucked on my nipples through the mesh of the bra? How the satin of the panties rubbed on your face as you ate me out?
That I do. It's not so bad when it's clean, mind you. You have a lovely smile.
Gods, I can still remember the taste. Please do think about it, my naughty lady. I'm curious to know if you easily get wet for me just thinking about it.
[ She wonders how many of his other lovers he’s written songs about. ]
I carry a notebook with me, much like you do, and I jot things down when they come to me. It’s hard sometimes to find the peace and quiet that I need to think.
I did say I'd give you the things you deserve and you've been missing. If I may ask, what is the nicest gift you've ever received?
I see. Here is an idea: use that apartment your friend lent you. Not just to fuck me, but for you to take a break. When your ex has the kids, go there. Take a nap. Have a nice, long bath. Eat something tasty. Walk around naked. DANCE around naked. Let it be just you and your senses.
My engagement ring? Maybe that’s just the most expensive.
That’s really good advice, actually. I thought I’d never actually use the apartment because I didn’t want to be away from home overnight if I could help it. Even if I was out late, I still wanted to come home.
I suppose asking for your hand in marriage is the biggest step, yes. But how about outside of that? Something meaningful that you got for your birthday or just because? The one thing that bothers me about leaving home is some of the gifts I left behind. Geralt has carved many a cute thing for my shelves and made me a cloak out of basilisk skin. I miss it very much, it was amazingly warm in winter.
That's very sweet - and understandable. At the end of the day, we all want to go back to our families. And you are a mother! But even mothers need a break. It doesn't have to be overnight. Take two hours off in the middle of Wednesday.
There was a silk scarf once that I was admiring that was sold out in the store. Joel knew how much I wanted it and he actually tracked down the supplier, thanks to his father. I was shocked when I opened the box.
I didn’t know Geralt had a creative side.
I think the Goldsteins’ apartment is about to become my second home.
Now that is thoughtful! Do you still have it and wear it? I know some people who get rid of anything gifted by exes. No judgment if you have it, just curious.
Geralt is a very practical man. Everything he's carved, he did by copying the real thing. Horses, a pencil holder, a little lute. Lovely pieces, don't take me wrong, I adore them so. Yet I don't know how much the word "creative" applies here. He has... a foot dipped in creativity, shall we say?
That's the spirit! It may be the perfect place for you to explore your body like I've taught you, too. No possible interruptions.
That's actually very insightful of you. Will look very mature in front of the kids, too. Well played, my lady.
Talented indeed, that's something I can agree with. I wish he'd let me teach him embroidery; I bet he'd have a talent for it too. And he needs more hobbies that don't include cards and dice.
Oi, I was just being encouraging!
For pleasure is something to be expressed if we’re alone or in a marvelous coalition So I wish you satisfaction in elations quest as you work the knobs, slants and levers because this isn’t some kind of competition
I'm sure the kids will be grateful for that someday.
Kind of. Mostly he played Gwent (that's cards). He hasn't lost control of his life over it, but he does like it quite a bit. I haven't told him about that poker thingy and YOU WON'T EITHER.
I was encouraging you to do it in your me-time! But is that what you want to do next time? Watching each other masturbate?
That's not an answer! I need details! Have you been there?
That's a spectacular quote and I shall steal it, thank you. And while I absolutely love it when you're a bad girl, I need to inform you that Ciri is on the same table finishing her homework.
Yes, I’ve been there. I went to play some slot machines and see some shows and shop and drink. Some people go for vices that are more taboo, whether they’re strictly legal or not.
Taboo, huh? It sounds like I have a new city to visit soon. After I find a good beach, that is. Fuck, I miss the coast.
She is not, which is why I could tease and flirt, but this isn't exactly the best moment for an erection. However if you were hoping for some me-time with
We've been there! The games were quite fun but also a little nerve-wracking. I couldn't believe all the skin the women showed to go into the water. Those swimsuit things are a magnificent invention. You're correct, though, I was thinking something more... coast-y.
I shall channel that energy in my writing - to describe the fire in your eyes, the swing in your waist, and the joy in your cunt.
Yes, those! Lovely garments. The information will be very useful, thank you.
Are you sure you want to know that?
The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He's hesitant, but maybe it may help her get more comfortable with the subject.
Most of my lovers are one-night stands. Only three (besides you) have become repeated encounters, and two of those are men. We only flirt a little when we contact each other to meet later - I don't chit-chat with them as I do with you. I've tried "phone sex" once, and I've been curious about doing it on text, but need the right partner. I don't need someone to have a big vocabulary when we're in bed (the mind can be beautiful in such a variety of ways!); however, words are the protagonists when it comes to using these devices, and "phone sex" has taught me that wit is a must if I have to get excited merely by speech.
I don't think I need to explain who I see as very witty.
(If it counts, back in my world, I "offered my guidance" in the bedroom in the form of sitting back and talking while I watched.)
Apologies, I've been sent to my room like a hormonal teenager. I may control my erection, but it seems I was still smelling too horny to stay in the garden. This has been classified by the actual teenager as "gross". I could complain about my writing session and tea being interrupted, but I think I may join you and write with just one hand, if you know what I mean.
Let's set up a scene, shall we? Are you alone in the apartment? What are you wearing, beautiful?
ate dinner then passed out, worst time of the school year <3
No, he came out to sit with us. She has his sword skills and Yennefer's magic.
A private beach - that does sound perfect. Swimming together with the sunset behind us and the warm summer breeze brushing our wet hair. I can see the shape of your nipples on your bikini top, darling. They're hard to ignore.
We've been here all day. Our skin is starting to tan - do you have tanning lines, Miriam? I'm so curious to know. I'm so eager to check - to find them and kiss them all.
I swim behind you and drop a kiss on your shoulder while I start to untie your top. Salty, yet I can't have enough. You do have lines, and I shall kiss them all.
(Staying dressed in case you get caught, huh? How exciting, to be on the lookout for any noises outside the room. Such a naughty daughter. I am getting comfortable in only my robe, and playing soft music in the radio so I don't have to hold back. Make me loud, darling.)
Of course we are! If we are on a private beach, then we shall take advantage of it to the fullest! Have you never fucked in the water? Your body will float the same your mind does when you orgasm~
And that bikini top? I let the water take it away, so my hands can cover your breasts instead. They are magnificient as always, I love playing with them. Squeeze them, pinch them. Were they bigger when you were pregnant? Were they more sensitive?
I’ve done some fooling around in the water before.
Well don’t let it float away! I’m going to need that back.
I love when you play with my breasts, bouncing them with your calloused hands and pinching my nipples. They swelled a little bit when I was pregnant and were definitely more sensitive. Are you thinking about me being pregnant, Jaskier?
Because that’s a surprising fantasy coming from him.
(Of course I am, darling. I’m running my fingers over my folds, teasing myself and feeling the wetness pooled there.)
You won't need it. See that little shack over there? We're renting that. We shall walk naked and fuck all over this private beach as many times as we want.
If they're going to fantasize, then he'll go for his favorite thing: absolute freedom.
Goodness, no. I wanted to tease you about your sensitivity - which I love so. I turn you around and bury my face in your amazing tits, sucking and nibbling like a man dying of thirst. Leaving hickeys on the tan lines. I wonder, sometimes, if I could make you come just from playing with them.
(Always so wet for me, so eager, so pretty and lovely. I'm dancing around my room, rubbing the tent on my robe. The fabric adds a degree of separation - I don't feel my callouses, I feel your manicured fingers teasing me.)
(I can’t dance around or I might wake the kids. I’m gathering my skirt up around my waist so that I can spread my legs and use both hands to touch myself the way that you taught me.)
I capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, my hands never leaving your breasts. Everything tastes salty but I don't care, because I can still taste Miriam too - strong, feisty, addictive.
(Ooh, both hands! One for your clit, one for your cunt - simply perfect choice. I want you to take good care of yourself, beautiful. Don't let a single inch go unexplored. Get to know your body all over again, find all those spots that drive you crazy.)
And what about you? While you’re kissing me to oblivion, I’m cupping my hand over your cock through your swim trunks. Should I push them down and let the waves take them?
(It may become difficult to text with both of my hands occupied. My cunt is so wet for you. I’m getting my fingers nice and slick so that I can push them inside and find that spot that makes me feel so good.)
I hiss and thrust against your hand, the tent in my trunks already pretty obvious. Yes, please, take them off - my body is all yours, have fun with it.
(Always so wet and ready for me, it's intoxicating. Do you mind if I match you? I have vaseline and fingers eager to explore, too. Worry not, though - my cock is already hard and throbbing just by the thought of how wet you are for me.)
Once I’ve got your trunks off, I’ll take my bottoms off and then wrap my legs around you, letting you run your cock through my folds, teasing you. Do you want to be inside me? You want to fuck me in the water?
(You’re putting your fingers… inside? I wish I could be there to see that. Going to thrust your fingers and stroke your hard cock at the same time?)
I immediately put my arms around you, smugly smiling at how you're now using the sea as an advantage. It's wonderful, is it not? There's no weight to slow down our muscles, just free floating while we rub against each other. I moan as I tease your cunt with the tip of my hard cock - yes, Miriam, I'm always eager to fuck you. In the water, on the stage, on top of a table, against the balcony window. In every position you may think of.
(If you want to see it, I'll put up a show for you next time we meet. It's only the thrusting at first - two fingers, well lubricated, slowly opening myself up while I'm on my knees on the bed. I'm not sure how long I'll last in this position - what do you think? Should I let my body fall and trap my cock between my legs and the mattress?)
Then you should take me. Hold my hips steady and push your cock into me. I’d let you take me in so many different ways, Jaskier. In so many different places. The way we fuck is pure ecstasy and I can’t get enough.
(Would that hurt? How would you be able to stroke it that way?
I’ve got two fingers in my cunt and I’m pushing them in as deeply as I can, tilting my hips to try to find that spot. I’m spread wide open on the bed.)
How can I say no to such an entrancing invitation? My arms are wrapped around your hips tightly and push you down to penetrate you in one swift move. I throw my head back to moan - so tight, so wet, so eager, so fucking perfect.
(I could turn around later. Or get on my hands and knees. Or stand up. You tell me how you want me, darling.
All spread open for me, such a feast I'm missing out on. I know exactly where my spot is, but I shall wait for you, dear. For now, I add a third finger and trust, enjoying feeling so fucking full.)
I would kiss you and rock my hips against yours as best I could. Really I’m just enjoying the sensation of having you fill me. The water and the sun feel warm on my naked body. Are you holding my ass, fucking me on your cock?
(However you’re comfortable. If we do this together, I’d want you on your back so that I can stroke your cock while you thrust your fingers inside yourself.)
Meanwhile, Midge’s fingers find her spot and she lets out a soft mewl before biting her lip.
(Found it, though my fingers aren’t as good as yours are when you touch it. They aren’t as long or as dexterous as yours, my sweet bard.)
Yes, absolutely, I'm squeezing that lovely, perky ass of yours, my fingers digging in as they bounce you on my cock. There's no protection, just your skin, mine, and the water. I shall fuck you raw and hard for a long, long time, because this is a fantasy and that means I can stay inside you until the stars come out.
(I'm on my back, as my lady demands. I find my spot and tease it lightly, pretending it's your fingers - shy, exploring, learning what they're doing. Trying just for me - what an honor it is. Gaining confidence with each passing second, because you know what you want and how to get it. Stimulate that spot, Miriam, chase that thrill.)
As many as you want. I'll sit you on my shoulders and eat you out if necessary. For now, I'll keep thrusting hard into you, losing myself in your heat while my mouth attacks your neck. We're on a private beach with no stage - do you know what that means? I can leave marks on display.
(A good plan. I shall keep it slow, too, then. I'm not touching my cock, I only watch the precum gather on its tip, try not to imagine you licking it.
I'd love that. With your fingers, or with a toy - have you ever wondered what it would be like to be the one doing the fucking, Miriam? To have a man bent over for you, completely at your mercy?)
You can bring me to shore and lay me on the sand to eat me out. Then you can put marks all over my skin and claim me as yours.
(Fuck, I would flick my tongue over the head of your cock, licking up that precum while my fingers keep fucking your ass.
I’ve never thought about it like that, though I’ve enjoyed having men at my mercy with me on top of them. They’re mesmerized by my tits, begging for me to ride them fast.)
Not a bad idea at all. But let's have the first orgasm in the water, shall we? I want our bodies to float together with our minds. Let me stay inside you a little longer, feel you wrapped around me, lose myself in your skin.
(I dig my heels into the mattress as I yell, your tongue shaking me to my core. And who says we can't do both? You can ride me while I have something up my arse. Your tits ARE mesmerizing, but it'd be torture to merely stare at them instead of playing with them.)
You love having sex in the water, don’t you, my darling bard? We can orgasm as many times in the ocean as you want before you get me all dirty in the sand.
(And I love when you play with them. I love when you cup them and rub my nipples with your thumbs until they’re stiff peaks and then tease them. I love when you suck marks on them.
I’m stroking my clit now. It’s such a relief, though I’m still not ready to come yet.)
Indeed I do. I love the coast. Have I not shared that? Oxenfurt was a coastal city.
And he grew up by the coast, but he isn't about to go there. Would only destroy the mood.
I shall get you all dirty now, too, with slopping kisses that leave a trail of spit between our mouths, marks left by my nails on your skin, and coming inside you - because this is a fantasy without consequences, so I'm going to fill you up all so good.
(Good. Don't be. I want you to take your time, get to know your body. When you're not writing to me, play with your breasts. Do to them all the things you like me doing. I won't grab my cock yet, instead I'll also play with my nipples, pretend those pretty nails of yours are scratching by chest.)
I like when you come inside me… when I get to feel that warmth. I want to be filled by you.
(I’m still wearing clothes, but I can feel my nipples hard through my dress and bra. My fingers are still thrusting inside my cunt… I wish they were your cock instead. One day when I’m alone I’ll do as you said and explore my whole body, see how I can make myself come hard.)
I fill you with every thrust of my throbbing cock, I fill your mouth with my tongue to look for yours and lick every inch of it.
(Clothes, of course. I forgot about those, I just keep picturing your marvelous tits. My robe is completely open, so it's almost as if I was wearing nothing at all. I keep thrusting too, allowing myself to rub my spot - my back arches, and my moans are drowned down by the music.)
I think by the time you tire, I’ll have lost count of how many times you’ve made me come. I’ll be covered in sand and salt and your kisses.
(My tits are yours. All of me is yours, Jaskier.)
Even as she sends the message, she knows that he doesn’t see her that way. He’s not possessive; Midge wouldn’t want him to be, but she likes being his… even if she technically isn’t.
(I wish I could see you right now. I’m sure it’s even hotter than what I’m picturing in my mind.
I’m teasing my clit, stroking it so lightly in tandem with that spot and trying not to moan out loud, trying not to come yet, even though my whole body is on edge, trembling.
Tired, marked, and well fucked. That's when you're at your prettiest, darling. My hand reaches for your clit as I keep thrusting into you - no words, only your name moaned into the sunset.
He doesn't pick up on the extra meaning of her sentence - he thinks she's just saying her body is up for him to do whatever he wants, and isn't that a sexy thought.
(We'll meet again soon, and I'll put up a show just for you.
I'll close my hand around my dick, trying to stroke it slowly, but speeding every time I think about you being so naughty that you masturbate while your family is in the apartment. All naughty and wet for me, hiding your orgasm under your skirt.
As soon as she starts to rub both her clit and the spot inside her in earnest, her body explodes with orgasm. Midge turns her head and muffles it with her pillow so that she doesn’t accidentally wake the kids. Her body shakes with pleasure and it’s a long moment before she responds to Jaskier again.
I came so hard, my sweet bard. I wish you had been here to see it.
Just like Midge, Jaskier uses both hands to touch himself, trying to wait patiently but failing as his hands continue to pick up speed. When he hears the ping of his phone, he doesn't even look at the message: his fingers thrust harder and he stimulates his spot to hell and back until he's coming all over his hand and his stomach. The music covers his moans while his back arches, and Jaskier lets his mind sink into the heights of pleasure.
It takes him a few minutes to respond - first, he's gotta snap out of his blissful state; and second, he has to find wet wipes on his night table to clean his hand.
breathing his climax the storm calms down pleasure floods it while the breeze calms his body
Thank you for flourishing my Sunday, darling. Glad to hear your orgasm was exquisite as well. If this becomes a recurring way to blow each other's minds when we can't meet, mayhap we should take a few pictures? As inspiration.
I'll show you my handsome orgasmic face next week, when I come back from whatever a "masachusets" is.
No, I meant
Wait, is that something people do?
Fuck, of course they do, how did I not think of it? I'm disappointed in myself! What an amazing idea! So many new ways to use all the inventions this world has! It makes me even more eager to find one of those naughty shops.
Ah, worry not, darling. You don't have to go that far if you aren't comfortable. I just mean a picture of your lovely smile and bright eyes. Mayhaps a bit of cleavage - only for the dress, of course.
Monster in the swamps. It may be your chance to befriend Yennefer, since she's staying here with Ciri. I have to ask her about sharing her number - sorry that I haven't gotten to that yet.
He woke up late after his -ahem- busy night.
Indeed, I HAVE corrupted you - however, I think this is a case of you just having learned to expect salacious requests from me. A clothed picture would be lovely, thank you! Would you like one as well?
And you often make them, too, my naughty lady. My hope is that you grow more comfortable asking for whatever comes to your mind.
I'm still learning to use the camera, so I'm guessing a headshot is just the face on the frame, correct? That could work. Maybe something up close and another of the full body? I do like your dresses.
Thanks. I suppose I have another thing to look into.
He isn't sure he needs a casting agent - judging by the name, it sounds like something related to theater, and he isn't an actor. But it can't hurt to be ready.
The suit it is! If you take more than one, would you make it different dresses? I love seeing all your styles.
Can you blame me when you make such a gorgeous model? I've been befriending people in art circles, you know. I bet they'd love to make paintings or sculptures out of you.
Those are for anatomy classes, although I don't deny some artists do like naked women on their final creations as well. But they are not all like that! It sounds to me like a trip to the museum is in order. You have so many in this city, it's marvelous! And I've been meaning to take Ciri.
I want to see everything! I like exploring and experiencing new things. A native always knows the best spots. The big liberty lady statue admits visitors, right?
You underestimate how much time I spent walking while traveling back in my world. But I suppose there will be many a tourist, so that's indeed out of the question. What would be a fun place for us to get naughty at?
Getting dirty in both the literal and the metaphorical sense, I like it! But on a different day from the museum, unless you want Ciri to call us gross.
So she's really not taking other lovers. Not surprising, considering she's just learning to open up like this. Jaskier just hopes she won't waste her youth.
I don’t hate it as a concept, because people can do as they feel. But for me, I don’t think I would enjoy it. I like the intimacy with one other person.
You keep me very well satisfied, Jaskier. I don’t need anyone else.
For the record, if that's all you want, I shall respect it. As I said, I was joking. But if you don't mind me correcting a misconception... It's not about a lack of satisfaction. It's about intensified pleasure, about being touched in more places at the same time, about feeling more full, about new experiences.
I've visited many a court, sang for kings and queens alike. Seen dozens of women stuck in a life dictated by the rules of high society and what their words may do to their reputations, after their virginities were used by their lordy fathers as a bargaining chip to marry into an even bigger family. And when they become widows, they cry for their dead old bald heads but have nothing left to tell about themselves. I've seen what power does to art and creativity and freedom.
Power and religion, but he knows better than mentioning that one.
It would destroy me to see another beautiful soul been dragged to that hell.
I don’t think that whether or not I have a threesome with you and some other person is going to seal my fate on that one way or another.
That hasn’t been my life. I didn’t stay with my cheating husband. I’m trying to have a career. I appreciate that you’re concerned, but I’m taking steps to make sure that I don’t have any regrets when I’m older.
It's not about the threesomes, it's about trying out new things and learning who you really are. To express all the thoughts and feelings you may've bottled up for years, and not only on the stage.
I’m all for trying new things. What I’m doing with comedy… it’s mostly uncharted for a woman. What I’m doing with you is uncharted for me. But I can have boundaries too.
I’m glad you’re happy for me.
There’s a pause before the next message.
You care a lot about me and my happiness, and I appreciate that.
Of course you can, darling. Believe it or not, I have my boundaries too. I'm not trying to change your mind about threesomes, I promise. It's just the worries of a middle-aged bard.
Second time he's mentioned his age, not exactly a topic he likes. That's how much he wants to reassure her.
I do. You're a witty, funny, smart, gorgeous, and creative soul. It'd be a crime not to pray for your happiness.
Mmh. Don't you have more money than I do? Mayhaps I can be the kept toyboy.
Impossible to be as funny as you.
She has a type, he realizes, because everything she just said applies to Jaskier as well. Yet she didn't feel the spark with Joel - would it be the artist connection that he keeps mentioning?
Oh please, you aren't shy with the family money. Your comedy isn't paying for all those lovely dresses.
That's not what I asked. I simply want to make sure you aren't (unconsciously?) seeing me as some kind of replacement. It wouldn't bother me - I've been the rebound many a time. But I'd worry it wasn't healthy for you.
I'd better take a shower and pack for my little trip. Talk to you later?
The next day, Midge will wake up to find a box on her window. Isn't magic great? The cute red box with a pink bow has chocolates and the envelope on the bow says Midge in Jaskier's fancy penmanship.
Inside the envelope, she'll find a little piece of paper that says Yennefer in a different handwriting and her number under it. There are also three Polaroid pictures:
The first one is Jaskier taking a close-up selfie on his bedroom mirror. He's winking for the camera and wearing his robe, so some of his chest hair is visible.
The second one was clearly taken by someone else. Jaskier is sitting on a reading chair by the fire, legs crossed, looking at the glass of red wine in his hand. He's put on his blue suit and all the little accessories he wore for her gig, including eyeliner.
The third picture is wrapped in a piece of paper and has a note from Jaskier. This one may be a little too much. Feel free not to open it at all, or to burn it if I've crossed the line. No pressure. In this one, Jaskier is sitting naked in front of his bedroom mirror, arm resting on a raised knee. He's winking again, and the camera is covering his groin just to tease.
His little gift is a pleasant surprise to wake up to, and the naughty picture makes her gasp. It’s so like him though. Midge grabs her phone and sends him a message.
Oh, darling, getting to read you again is a ray of sunlight in a fucking storm. Sorry I didn't see this before; it's been a very long, muddy day. I'm glad you like it. Were the chocolates good? Did you open the third photograph?
Aww, aren't you sweet? Worry not, I'm fine. Well, as fine as someone with mud and swamp water on his hair can be. Want to bet on how many shampoo bottles I'll go through this week? That toothy bastard hasn't shown up yet, so we have to go back to the swamps tomorrow. We're at the motel now. I'm pretty sure I've slept on stables more comfortable than this bed.
Especially, huh? Are you saying I'm better than chocolate?
I do help! Just because it's not actual fighting, it doesn't mean I'm a mere observer - although that IS my main job.
I talk to the locals to gather information. I argue with the client to get well-paid, and with motel and diner owners to get good prices. I gather ingredients for Geralt's potions. I stitch him up when he's done, massage him if he's sore, take care of the tangles in his hair. Back home, I would brush Roach's mane, too. And sometimes I play bait.
To be fair, they're all things I learned through the years. I definitely started as a mere observer. He taught me to start a fire and clean a fish. Setting up camp used to be part of my duties, too.
Oh, yes! You must be the first person in the history of humanity who got that from context and didn't jump on the bug. Geralt calls all his horses Roach, after the fish. He clearly misses her - so do I, honestly. I know he's been looking at horses here, but we can't exactly have one in the garden.
I'm unsure whether to say thank you or be offended. It's a very important distinction to make that shall decide if I ever make stew for you.
Police horses?! Why do those motherfuckers have horses in this world? Must the poor creatures walk the street among the very dangerous cars?
You can't drop such a revelation and then ask me not to do anything about it! Geralt will probably want to rescue them. He's already quite annoyed by the whole helmet nonsense.
Ah, it's just... stew? Chopped vegetables and the meat of whatever animal Geralt could kill. Some spices, if I have them at hand. I wouldn't call myself a cook; I've learned a few rustic things to get by on the road. Stew, roasted meat, mashed potatoes, you get the idea.
Those poor things... as if I needed another reason to hate those cockheads. By the by, do you know how to ride? I haven't done it in a while.
I'll cook for you if that's your wish. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. And I'd love to try your ingredients either way. We can take some food to the apartment next time, cook together.
You don't need to be great just to have fun. Aren't you curious to see how many 'riding' jokes you can make in one afternoon?
I try to keep Kosher, which is a Jewish way of eating and has certain rules. I’m not always perfect at it, because some forbidden foods are delicious, such as bacon.
Squirrels are not Kosher.
Not yet! I’ll do it tomorrow if you think she’s ready for it.
The answer takes a few minutes to arrive because, first, Jaskier has to rant to Geralt about religions controlling what you eat. Geez, what else comes next?
Brisket is cow, correct? Then I shall get chicken. Is there anything else I should know about these 'rules'? I don't want to be afraid of getting you chocolates again.
Please do. She needs friends, especially lady friends. The mall will be fine if you need a place to meet, she'll like the makeup counter and the fancy dresses. But if you have lunch or tea, choose somewhere nicer, not a diner. (And let me know how it goes, or I'll die of gossip deficiency.)
Jaskier, it’s fine. She’s choosing to do this, and she’s practical enough that if her options were to eat bacon or starve, she’d eat the bacon.
I’m not supposed to eat meat and dairy together, so a cheeseburger, for example (also delicious), or drinking milk while eating meat. Chocolates are fine.
Geralt has finally freed the shower, so I need to get rid of the miniature swamp on my head before the smell gets stuck in my clothes. Straight to bed after that, since we're waking up at sunrise.
Talk to you later, darling. And good luck with the witch.
The next day, however, Jaskier doesn't answer any of her texts. Same on Wednesday. If Midge worries too much and asks Yennefer, she'll tell her it's normal. Magic may interfere with the signals, or Geralt may've demanded that all devices be off. Noises may attract dangerous things.
It isn't until Thursday evening that Yennefer writes to Midge with some news: the mighty heroes are back... and Jaskier is sick. It's not serious, just a cold - well, not a normal cold, exactly. Because he was stung by the monster, and while that usually can be easily healed by an antidote, this time the poison has mixed with this world's cold virus, mutating it into something new. Some Yennefer has to do some research to create a new potion. Jaskier isn't in any danger, but he is a bit delirious. If it wasn't for his sick face, she'd almost find it funny.
I’ll try not to think about your body all wet. Have a good day tomorrow.
Midge does worry a bit when she doesn’t hear from him for a few days, but Yennefer reassures her that it’s normal. They make plans to get together next week.
She’s alarmed when she hears that Jaskier is sick. Midge doesn’t want to impose too much. She asks Yennefer if she minds if Midge comes to see him, and the witch agrees.
After cooking up a batch of matzo ball soup, she puts it in a casserole dish and carries it in a taxi over to where Jaskier and his family live.
It's hardly imposing when this is exactly what the family needs - Yennefer and Geralt just happen to suck at asking for help. So when Midge offers to come by, she's doing them a big favor. Yennfer asks her to come in the morning, that way she can watch over Jaskier after Geralt and Ciri are gone and Yen can concentrate on developing the potion.
When Midge makes it to the address Yennefer gives her, she'll find a typical Manhattan house. Realistically, newbies like them shouldn't have been able to acquire such a house so quickly. But the place was haunted and barely standing when they arrived; the owner was desperate to get rid of it. So they got it for cheap by throwing an exorcism for free.
It went from 'barely standing' to 'gorgeous' thanks to Yennefer's magic, and the previous owner hates them for it. Inside, Midge will find a very nicely decorated house that shouldn't surprise anyone who has seen how Jaskier and Yennefer dress. They keep the 'average' looking exterior not to get more attention.
Yennefer gives Midge the quick rundown: kitchen on the first floor, a bathroom on each floor, bedrooms upstairs - Jaskier's the third one on the left. The room at the back of the first floor is the magic/potion room, so Midge should stay away from it unless she needs something, and then she should just knock and quickly step back for her own safety. The herbs and the flowers in the garden should be watched at a safe distance, too, unless she has a guide.
When Midge knocks on Jaskier's room, she'll hear a grunted 'yeah' as an answer. Inside, she'll find a mound of blankets on the bed, hiding an annoyed bard.
The inside of the house is impressive and Midge tells Yennefer so. Perhaps it’s sexist to presume that she’s responsible for the interior design. Jaskier might have had a hand in it as well.
Before she goes upstairs, Midge asks for a pot so that she can reheat the soup on the stove. It can simmer for a bit before she takes some to Jaskier. That done, Midge is lead to the sick bard’s room. She smiles at his response. Apparently he didn’t know she was coming over.
Midge opens the door a crack. “It’s Midge. May I come in?”
"Midge?" It takes his feverish head a second to process the information. He moves the blankets just enough to take a peek, revealing his hair to be a mess. She's a sight for sore eyes, yet he can't find the right words to express how happy he is to see her. Ugh, he hates being sick.
"I want to see you," he manages to say. The words are a bit slurred. "But don't want you to see this. Too nasty." He frowns. "Dunno how to do both." Definitely a bit delirious over the fever, just like Yen said.
She’s never seen his hair look this disheveled. He must be really sick.
“You could cut a hole in the sheet,” Midge offers, trying not to laugh. She steps into the room but doesn’t move any closer to the bed yet. “I promise I won’t judge you on how you look.”
"Everyone judges me on how I look," he instantly replies, definitely not calculating his words very much today. If he was rational, he'd tell her he could pass the cold to her and therefore to her kids. But he isn't. He desperately wants her to hold him. "Come onnnnnn, sit down."
A hand peeks out to point at the reading chair that Geralt left next to the bed last night.
Midge sits down on the chair, looking at the lump under the sheet and trying to keep her distance. She’d prefer that neither she nor her kids get sick.
“You’re really going to stay under there the whole time?” she asks skeptically. “How are you supposed to eat soup like that?”
"I'm not hungry," he replies with slurred words. However his body reacts to her tone, so he lowers the blankets down to his neck to at least show his face. He's very pale, with bags under his eyes and a runny nose. He offers a little smile at her, because that's the effect she has on him. "Hey, pretty thing. You're making me feel uglier than I already do."
"...I do want to try your food." He pouts. Today is full of contradictions.
Jaskier waits for a gesture of disgust, but she doesn't even wrinkle her nose. Usually, he'd know her better, but the current dizzy state of his brain means he's having funny thoughts, like wondering if she bottled up her real reaction.
"Yeah. Fucker stung me. And now Geralt is doing that thing where he lets guilt make him look like a kicked dog. If he could pout, he would."
He nods. "Now he just needs to get better at showing it."
Jaskier's room is as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. Art hangs on the walls, he has a very large mirror, his own radio and record player, and a walk-in closet. His desk is cluttered with a bunch of piles of paper, plus a combination of both pens and quills.
He should thank her for the compliment, share a story about getting the house and all, but his brain is being dumb today. Jaskier frowns. "...did she drag you here?"
Of course he has a huge mirror. That’s the least surprising feature of the room.
Midge furrows her brow at his question. “No… we spoke last week to set up plans to get together and she told me that you probably hadn’t texted me back because of bad service on the monster hunt.” Was it desperate of her to even ask why he hadn’t texted her back? Jaskier technically didn’t owe her a response. “Then the next day she told me that you were sick and I asked her if it was alright to come see you.” A beat. “Maybe I should have asked you.”
"Oh." Well, he feels silly now. When she says she should've asked, he immediately shakes his head, which doesn't help with his headache. "Nonono! I want you here. Seeing you makes me happy." Not even right now, just... in general. "I was worried they dragged you to be my nanny. Although you're much better than my old nanny. Gods, I hated that bitch." So much random rambling. Then his eyes widen. "Or maybe they're pranking me." He suddenly giggles. "I brought a girl to my room. I broke the rules."
Yes, he's implying she's the first lover in this world who has seen his house.
"I wish. I could've outrun a poor old granny." He rubs his eyes as he thinks about the old days, the fever completely messing with his boundaries. "She wasn't even a nanny. I called her that to piss her off. And governess was harder to pronounce."
He laughs at her joke, although it quickly transforms into lots of coughing. "Would you believe me if I say I'm not in the mood? My whole body is sore. Even my pinky."
Midge raises an eyebrow when he says the word governess. “So she was more like a tutor?” Perhaps it’s wrong to try to get information about how he grew up out of him while he’s sick, but Midge doesn’t think she’s pressing too hard.
“I’m actually shocked,” she replies. “You must be on death’s door.”
"He fucked as many maids as she fucked stable boys." He doesn't even sound sad or mad. It was expected - they had been an arranged marriage for power. Their only responsibility was to keep up the smiles in public.
Jaskier instantly melts under her touch, and a little happy sigh escapes his lips. Her question goes unheard. "Pet my head?"
"Stuffy. Restrictive." He wants to think of more adjectives, but he continues to melt under her petting. As usual, her nails make his whole body shiver. Although that may be the fever.
Unfortunately, another coughing fit comes, and this one is so bad that Jaskier needs to sit up. As the blankets fall, Midge will notice he's wearing pajama pants and a tanktop a little too big for his body - clearly Geralt's. There's a reason for such a choice in clothing: there's a bandage around his shoulder and part of his chest. The most upsetting part is the veins around that area, which look green.
Midge is getting the inkling that Jaskier’s childhood wasn’t just stuffy and restrictive, but rich. For some aspects of his personality, that actually makes a lot of sense.
She feels like a shrink asking about his childhood, though she doesn’t think hair stroking is part of psychotherapy. When he sits up, he moves away from her hand. That wound looks nasty and otherworldly, like nothing she’s ever seen before. This is why she doesn’t visit swamps.
Once the coughing fit passes, Midge moves to perch on the edge of his bed, then continues stroking his hair. She feels like his mother. Freud would be pleased.
To be fair, his mother was never this caring, so at least there won't be any Freudian slips from him.
Jaskier's surprised to see her come this close, considering his current state, so he's truly touched. He barely blinks at her before he's resting his head on her shoulder. His body may be shivering, but he's craving human contact more, so he's happy to stay there and sigh again.
"It isn't so bad now that Yennefer sedated it. You should've seen it when it happened; I was a walking emerald." Meaning, the green veins were all over his body. "But at first? Yeah, hurt like fucking hell. My insides were burning."
Freudian or not, her mom instincts are kicking in. All men turn into little boys when they’re sick. Midge wouldn’t be here if she didn’t mind having him get close to her.
“You know, some people say green is the worst color, but I disagree. I’m sure you looked fantastic in green.”
That makes him smile. "I look fantastic in everything. Maybe we should both put on some green for our plans in the bushes." Just because he isn't in the mood to fuck now, it doesn't mean he can't think about it.
At that moment, Yennefer comes in without even knocking. Her hair is up in a bun, which wouldn't be a big deal for anyone else. But letting a visitor see her like this? Speaks volumes about how hard she's working to get Jaskier better.
"I could hear your lungs leaving your body from downstairs," she says before Jaskier sticks his tongue out at her. Very mature. His head doesn't leave Midge's shoulder until Yennefer touches his forehead... with her free hand. The other one has a glass with a black and gray potion. "This should help you breathe, at least." Jaskier reaches for it, but Yennefer moves it away. "Not with an empty stomach." She turns to Midge. "Would you mind bringing him some food?" She knows Midge brought something, just not what.
When Midge comes back, Jaskier is sitting against a pile of pillows and Yennefer's glowing hand is on his shoulder, making the green slip back under the bandage. "Thank you," she tells Midge with a nod. The potion is left on the night table, which is covered with used tissues and an empty tea mug. "Don't get any funny ideas," she warns Jaskier before leaving the room.
“So we match the nature around us?” she asks. “Before we take off our clothes at least.” Another thing about men, they can think about sex no matter what’s going on.
At Yennefer’s request, Midge goes downstairs to get Jaskier some soup. After finding a bowl and a tray, Midge ladles the soup into the bowl and then places the bowl on the tray. She finds a spoon and then walks carefully back upstairs with the tray.
She watches as Yennefer leaves, then carefully places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “What are you getting funny ideas about?”
"Fucking," he replies as he follows every movement of Midge with a goofy smile on his face. He likes being pampered, but he also likes Midge simply being there. "She didn't believe me when I said my body is too sore to do anything now. She doesn't trust my hands." And for a good reason. Yennefer's magic has temporarily encapsulated the poison and therefore calmed the fever a little, but his body is still warm and his mind is still high on a bad combo of body temperature and toxins. His boundaries are still down.
The soup looks fantastic, and with the poison under control for now, his stomach has settled. The smell alone already makes him hungry. "Thank you, darling." He raises the spoon and tastes the broth, humming in delight. "Oh, this is good." He pokes at the matzo balls with the spoon. "What are these?"
“We’re not fucking,” Midge tells him. Sitting next to him and stroking his hair is as much as he’s getting today.
She sits back down in the chair. “Matzo balls. They’re made from unleavened bread called matzos, kind of like crackers. They can be broken down to a sort of corn meal that’s then mixed with eggs and oil and formed into balls. They become very soft when they’re cooked in the broth.”
"I know! I told her so! Is it my fault if she doesn't believe me?" Yes, Jaskier, you have a reputation. "Even if my body wasn't nasty and sore, I promised I wouldn't do any fucking in the house because of Ciri, who will come back from school at any moment. Funny enough, that has never stopped them." Meaning Geralt and Yennefer. But he doesn't really mean it, he's just teasing. A 'married couple' getting it on isn't the same as bringing random strangers. And Jaskier wouldn't want to share this with one-night stands either. Midge is different. "At least they've been careful since Ciri came into their lives. Do you have any idea how many times I've walked on them through the years?"
(Geralt would want to point out he's walked on Jaskier even more times, so they're even.)
As soon as she finishes listing the ingredients, Jaskier bites one of the balls. Another appreciative hum leaves his lips before he quickly finishes it. "This is delicious. Maybe we should hire you as our chef."
“I think your reputation proceeds you, my darling bard,” Midge tells him. This is the only time she hasn’t seen him horny, because he looks like he’s on death’s door. Whatever Yennefer did seems to have caused a bit of improvement though.
“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles. “I’ll make my brisket for you next time.”
Jaskier pouts at her teasing, and his fuzzy brain makes the wrong connection. "Fucking women on their monthlies is not the same as fucking while sick."
He eats another ball and sips more broth before finally grabbing the potion, only drinking half of it now. His nose wrinkles at the taste and he mumbles fucking witches before going back to the soup, which tastes a million times better.
"I can't wait," he replies between sips and bites. "Sorry I worried you this week. I know how hard it can be. When Geralt takes longer with a hunt than usual, it can get quite nerve-wracking as well. What Yennefer told you is true, however. Sometimes I won't be able to reply in the middle of a hunt." He looks at her with glazed but still soft eyes and a small smile. "So I hope you can be patient with me."
Part of his brain detects he's putting some extra weight under those words, but he can't tell what.
“You don’t let anything stop you, do you?” Midge asks, a smile playing at her lips. She’s never done that, and isn’t even sure if she’d want to. Joel was always very grossed out by that.
Midge removes the tray and sits back down on the edge of the bed. “It’s fine. I didn’t… think you technically owed me a reply anyway.”
That’s the nature of their relationship, isn’t it? But Midge cares enough about him to want to make sure he’s okay.
"Sickness is stopping me," he replies with another pout.
As soon as she sits on the bed, he puts his head on her shoulder again, bringing up a blanket to cover his shivering body. Her presence is really comforting. Her comment, though, makes him frown a little. "Are we not friends? It would be rude of me to ignore a friend's message. You don't have to drop whatever you're doing to answer my silly messages but... if you stopped talking to me, I'd miss you. I like chatting with you."
“Yes, you’re right,” Midge replies. “I wasn’t thinking of it that way.” She meant that they aren’t exclusive. This isn’t a relationship. How close he wants to allow her to get is entirely up to him, though it seems they’ve gotten very close in the short time that they’ve known each other.
"Good," he replies with a smile now. "I'd kiss your cheek right now, but I don't wanna leave snot on your pretty face." He's slurring his words again. "Geralt can't get sick, you know? It's not fair. I bet he'd look hilarious with a snotty nose." Suddenly he snickers. "I blew my nose with my brother's jacket once. It left a stain on his pants when he was riding. It was soooooo funny."
"How dare you," he says in fake offense, just to tease. "Little Julian was an angel." Translation: he definitely was a rascal. "I'll take an apology in the form of head petting."
The question makes him squirm a bit, but he can't quite understand why. He isn't thinking clearly, but he knows Midge makes him comfortable. "I was disowned when I left," he clarifies as his mind still makes the wrong connections. "So your credit card still wins."
"Don't call me that." He's pouting again, but it quickly goes away when she starts stroking his hair. Once again, he sighs in the closest thing to content he can be while sick. "Can't be angry at you when you're petting me," he teases.
The silence makes him uncomfortable, even if he can't exactly tell why. He instantly relaxes when she answers, feeling as if he's passed some test.
"You can fucking bet it is," he replies as he searches for her free hand to squeeze it. His body is sore, yet in a weird way he feels-- at peace? Kind of? It's hard to tell anything right now. "Sometimes I like to imagine that me wandering around with a witcher gave father a good ol' heart attack. But I dunno if he realized the famous bard is his estranged son."
“I like it,” she says, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “but I won’t call you it if you don’t want me to.”
“He probably does. Parents know their own children. I can’t imagine my kids doing something that would make me never want to see them again. It’s hard to know how he feels, I guess.”
Maybe his parents regret running him off, or maybe they’re just assholes.
Oh, the kiss has him nuzzling closer. "It's not a bad name," he clarifies. "Better than fucking Alfred. But I left Julian behind when I left. I am Jaskier. The bard is the real me, not the viscount."
He doesn't think his family truly knew him, but before he can say anything, Midge talks about her own family, and Jaskier knows how hard it's been to juggle career and children. Jaskier squeezes her hand again.
"Your kids are lucky to have you." He tries for a soft, sincere tone of voice, but he's still slurring his words. "Not a single adult in this house had proper parental figures. We don't say it aloud, but I know we all worry about how we're raising Ciri."
Her eyes grow wide and Midge is glad that he can’t see her. “You’re a viscount?” So not just rich, gentry rich. Titled.
“I can let you know when I meet her,” Midge jokes. “Honestly, as long as you love her and protect her and accept her for who she is, then you’re doing just fine.”
Midge you said no sex, don't get your panties wet over 'viscount' haha
"Not anymore. Disowned, remember?" She's so lucky he can't see her. He wouldn't exactly have liked her reaction. "I sang for queens and kings. I was the bard at the most important royal wedding of the decade. My talent got me there, and that's more powerful than the fucking family estate."
Or at least, he likes to think so. He knows reality isn't so kind.
"Nobody in this family of misfits will ever disapprove of anyone for being different, you have my word." A little sigh. "I do want you to meet her. I wish your kids were her age and they have playdates."
“You didn’t want to get by on any advantage that your name or title would have afforded you,” Midge replies. She knows how that is. She never wants to be accused of sleeping with someone in order to gain success. It’s honestly a good thing that Jaskier isn’t more famous here, or she might have turned down his advances.
“Does she babysit?” Ciri’s used to wrangling monsters.
"Mmmh-mmh." He's glad she gets it. People can get angry at the idea of what he could've done with the money, when the real answer is nothing. "Although I suppose I do take advantage of the Pankratz blues to be cuter."
He loves the color of his eyes, damn those great family genes.
“So I have your whole name now.” She not going to say it aloud. Julian Alfred Pankratz. The viscount. In some ways, he still has the hedonistic attitude of the titled class. “I guess I have your rotten family to thank for your beautiful eyes.”
Midge glances down at him. “My kids. She could babysit my kids. I’d pay her.”
"My name is Jaskier of Oxenfurt," he immediately corrects her, stubborn even while sick. "Let's not thank them for anything and merely be grateful for the circunstances."
His own eyes are closed, just comfortable to be resting against her. "...oh. That's not a bad idea. I'll talk to the whole family. Mayhaps she can do it just once or twice a week. Teach her to have a job. And... learn more about this world? In your home?"
Midge kisses the top of his head again. “You’re wonderful no matter what your name is.” He’s very insistent and Midge isn’t going to try to persuade him otherwise.
Sitting here stroking his hair, Midge feels like she’s petting a very particular cat.
“She only really would be needed if I’m going out and my parents are also going out. I can always give the kids to Joel, but then I have to bring them over there and get them back if it’s not his weekend… We really do need a babysitter. Do you think she’d be interested?”
"So are you, darling." He's smiling. "Pretend I'm kissing you very softly right now."
He does hum in delight when she pets him, but he'd argue that the cats here are a certain couple. Jaskier sees himself as nothing but a beautiful peacock.
"Honestly? I don't think she would. But I think Geralt and Yennefer may want her to do it, to teach her responsibility and independence. I also think it's a good idea. So let us talk to her."
“I do miss your kisses,” Midge says, closing her eyes as well. “And the way that you touch me.”
No. As much as she might miss him, she would definitely get his cold if she had sex with him, and she’s not sure if any of the green venom would come with it.
He is a beautiful peacock, isn’t he? What does that make her?
“Alright. My kids can be monsters, but she has experience with that. She might like earning her own money too.”
"You miss your boytoy," he says with a giggle. Indeed, fucking would be a bad idea and he isn't about to try anything, but it's fun to tease.
It makes her a swan - beautiful, elegant, romantic, but also an unexpected serrated mouth.
He nods against her shoulder. "Yeah, I think getting her own money will be the main appeal. But I'll still buy her dresses." He likes pampering her, sue him.
“Jaskier, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t enjoy chatting with you,” she replies. Midge didn’t come here expecting sex. She was worried about him and wanted to make sure that he’s okay.
“My father-in-law, yes.” Midge waves a hand. “I won’t owe him anything because I’ll pay him for them. He lets me buy at cost rather than with the retail markup.”
"...true." He falls silent for a second, realizing it's the same thing he's been telling Geralt for years. What a hypocrite he's being. "Sorry. I feel weird now. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad the green didn't scare you off."
Suddenly, he walks off the bed. His body is shaking and his legs are wobbly, but he's still determined to reach his desk. From a small box on the first drawer, he takes out a very pretty, sparkly scale, which he gives to Midge with a little smile.
“I’m a mom. Nothing scares me off.” It’s true. After you’ve pushed out children, then wiped their noses and asses, there aren’t many bodily issues that bother you.
Midge is surprised when Jaskier gets up. She offers him a hand, but he seems okay. She’s even more surprised when he returns with a jewelry sized box.
“Oh!” she says upon opening it and gazing at the sparkly object within. “What is it?”
When she says things like that, Jaskier is tempted to share some of the nastiest things he's seen during his travels, part of him curious to know if she'd stay like he did. It's rare to find a soul so much like his own. But he knows better than putting a friend through pointless tests, or kill the mood by describing what Geralt's instentines felt like in his hands.
"Sea serpent scale," he explains as he puts it in Midge's hand. "Keep it. Mayhaps you can turn it into a necklace charm or a brooch for your hats."
"Geralt killed it here. Lake on the north, next to the other country?" He means Lake Ontario. "We arrived with only the things on our backs. I'll have to rewrite all my books from scratch."
He tries to get comfortable on her shoulder again, but he keeps fidgeting. After lots of hesitation, he gets up again and brings his lute case. The fact he's showing her the secret pocket inside proves how important she's becoming to him.
From that little pocket, he takes out two things. "This is from the day I met Geralt," he explains while showing her an old, foreign coin.
The next item is a signet. He thinks the family crest on it requires no explanation. "Never could get rid of it," he admits.
She is a little surprised that he’s showing her all of these things, but she’s pleased as well. Midge has felt herself growing closer to Jaskier as the days have gone by. There’s no way for her to tell what he does or says or gives to his other lovers. Maybe she can subtly ask Yennefer or Geralt.
“Why the coin?” She asks. She takes the ring and runs her thumb over the raised bumps of the crest. “I’m sorry that your family didn’t see the lovely person that you are.”
That happens too often, especially in wealthy families.
"Thank you, darling," he replies as he finally rest his head on her shoulder again. His body is shivering, so he brings the blanket up too. "I'm sorry that your husband didn't see how amazing your are."
The coin question makes him chuckle. "He left it on the table in the smelly tavern I found him at. I thought it was for my performance, but later I learned it was for his drink." Oopsie, someone accidentally stole. "The first song I wrote for him is Toss a coin to your witcher, in which I ask people to pay him what he deserves. But, you know, indirectly and with a catchy tune."
“He made a huge mistake,” Midge replies, “and he knows it.” Unfortunately, actions have consequences, and the consequences of his cheating were permanent.
She smiles. “You should ask for a cut of his payments, since you’re the one making sure that he’s getting paid in the first place.”
"If you ever want to shake him up a little, let me know and I'll send Yennefer his way." The witch would love to curse a man that has a hurt a woman, he's sure.
"How do you think I've been buying clothes and makeup?" He sighs. "My music isn't making much money, if at all. Do not take me wrong, I love helping my family, I always did. We used to share the coin with Geralt while we traveled. But we both earned equally back then. Now... I don't know what I would be doing if I hadn't arrived with them."
Midge gives a short laugh. “Joel would probably piss his pants if Yennefer came his way. I’ll let you know if he ever really pisses me off.” It would have to be something hugely offensive. Midge has mostly forgiven him for cheating on her, for the sake of her kids. Plus it’s clear that he really does regret it, even if he’s never apologized.
“It must be hard, having made it back home and now trying to make it here. It’s not easy to make it here.” Ask her how she knows. “And while I think you have a lot of talent, bard music isn’t exactly what the radio is playing these days.” That can’t be helping either.
"Technically, he's already really pissed you off," he points out quite cheekily. Joel is lucky Jaskier hasn't met him yet; otherwise, he could already be sending a curse his way.
"I know. At least, not the catchy songs. My ballads do work, I think. I've been trying to learn..." He points at the guitar in the corner of the room. "It's not very different from the lute. But I've been dying for a piano. Percussion and strings at the same time? I would've never guessed. It sounds so pretty, too."
“Yes…” she replies with a sigh, “though I’ve forgiven him as much as I can for the sake of our children. Doesn’t mean I won’t make jokes about him though.” The hurt will always be there.
“If I hear about anyone selling a piano, I’ll let you know,” she continues. “There seems to be a rise in acoustic folk music lately. That’s similar to what you do.”
"Oooh, burning the witch on the stage. I like it." He's giggling. "And to think you didn't believe me when I said you're an artist. Making entertainment out of your suffering is art, darling."
He repeats 'acoustic folk' under his breath while he crawls on the bed to reach his night table. Thankfully, he always leaves pen and paper there, so he doesn't have to stand up again. However, all this movement is taking its toll on his sick body, so when he returns, he lies down and drops his head on Midge's lap before handing her the pen and paper.
"Write it down for me, please? Also your book recommendations, I haven't forgotten about those." They were fucking at the time, though, so recalling the names themselves is harder. "I think a person's favorite art says a lot about them."
“Is it? I thought it was a form of expression.” Expression of her suffering, apparently. She’s been using humor to deal with things all her life.
Midge glances down at his head in her lap and shakes her head fondly before writing down some of the book and music recommendations that she had given him earlier.
The sound of pencil on paper is soothing, and Jaskier soon falls asleep on her lap. He's comfy and warm, although the warmth is probably his own body. Even if his mind is working slowly right now, part of him is aware of a presence that he finds comforting.
Around half an hour later, Midge will hear the front door opening and closing, and lots of heavy things being dropped around the house. In just a few minutes, the door to Jaskier's room opens and Geralt appears with wide eyes, not expecting to see her there. There's a reason for that: he smells like absolute dogshit, and that is blocking his nose. His shirt is clean because he took off the real offender (his armor) and he's barefoot, so no mud left behind. But there are some weird stains on his pants and hair.
"...hello," he says as intense yellow eyes take in the scene in front of him. Soon, the kicked dog face that Jaskier described earlier takes over his expression. The guilt is strong. "Did he trap you here?"
“That’s what I meant. I thought art was a form of expression.”
When she finishes writing down her recommendations, Midge glances down and is surprised to see that Jaskier has fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him to move him, Midge settles in against the headboard of the bed and gently strokes his hair before dozing off herself.
The bangs in the house wake her. She can smell Geralt before she can see him, and tries not to make a face at the stench when he appears at the door.
“Not on purpose,” she replies quietly. “I didn’t want to wake him.”
"Mmh." He wants to say she should've asked Yennefer for help, but if she's in the lab, then she wouldn't have heard her anyway. And yelling would've woken up Jaskier. In other contexts, waking Jaskier up is the right answer, but right now Geralt can't deny that he appreciates Midge's gesture.
He enters the room and gently picks Jaskier up to free her. It's clear he's done this thousands of times before: he knows exactly how the bard fits in his arms and how to drop his head on his shoulder. Jaskier's body unconsciously recognizes Geralt, too, and cuddles closer. He weighs nothing to a witcher.
"Move those things so we can--" tuck him in, he means to say, but Geralt cuts himself short when he notices that next to the paper and the snake scale, the coin and -most importantly- the signet are there too. He growls. "Where did you get that?"
Midge is trying very hard not to gag on whatever that stench is. Monster guts? It’s really sweet how Geralt picks Jaskier up and the bard cuddles closer. Maybe it’s just familiarity, but Midge files that information away for later.
She gathers up the items on the bed, trying not to take Geralt’s tone as accusatory. This is how he always talks. “The ring and the coin he got from his lute case to show to me. He’s given the scale to me as a gift.”
Ironically, this time it was indeed accusatory. Jaskier doesn't show those to anyone, after all. ...or apparently he does?
"He did?"
Huh. Geralt stares intensely at Midge, realizing she isn't lying but still struggling to believe it. He then looks down at Jaskier as if seeing him for the first time. This is confusing, to say the least, which is new. Geralt usually doesn't have trouble understanding Jaskier, not since the early days when he wondered why the fuck he was following a witcher.
As confusion takes over the guilt on his expression, Geralt tucks Jaskier in. His movements show what a gentle giant he can be, and he even brushes Jaskier's hair off his face before touching his forehead. It seems he's still warm, but at least it isn't burning fever anymore.
He then turns to Midge and stares at her again for a second. "I have to take a shower. You should eat something. Grab whatever you want from the kitchen."
“Yes…” Midge has gathered that Jaskier doesn’t talk about his former life much, so maybe that’s where Geralt’s surprise is coming from. “He was telling me a little bit about his life before becoming a bard. He doesn’t usually talk about that, does he?” She glances down at him. “Maybe it’s the fever?”
Geralt is very tender with him and Midge can see the fondness there.
“I should probably go, actually,” Midge replies, gathering her purse and the scale. “I brought some soup over which is for everyone, not just him. Will you let me know if there’s anything else I can do?”
Jaskier’s resting, so she’s content to leave him to it. Hopefully he’ll message her when he’s feeling better.
"He does not," Geralt confirms as the confusion rises. The mention of the fever gets another mmmh from him. It does explain it, but only to a certain extent. Not even the drunkest Jaskier has shared so much.
He nods at her question. "Thank you. For taking care of him." When he fixes the blanket, he glances at Jaskier's bandage and wonders if Midge saw the poison. "For staying."
It isn't until 3am that night that Midge's communicator gets a message from Jaskier.
Fuck, I didn't mean to wake you up. I sent it now because I wanted it to be the first thing you saw in the morning. Sorry.
I'm much better now - Yennefer finished the potion, and the venom is out of my system. My body is still a little weak, but it's good old "recovering from a cold". I slept most of the day and drank the potion after dinner, which is why I can't sleep now.
She watches the dots, wondering what he’s trying to put into words. Sometimes simple and direct is the best course, as evidenced by what she ultimately receives.
You did. Geralt seemed surprised.
I hope you don’t regret it. I liked learning about your past, even if it wasn’t a great time in your life.
Jaskier's face falls on his pillow - of course Geralt was surprised, fuck. He made a few comments while he was changing Jaskier's bandage, but didn't push too much. Probably because he's still recovering, but Jaskier can guess there's a big talk coming.
The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He rereads her text over and over, taking in what's happened. She says she liked it, and she was understanding through the whole deal, if he remembers correctly. As nervous as he is, he can't stop smiling at his phone, knowing exactly why his heart is skipping a beat. Even if the fever and poison lowered his boundaries, there's no denying why that part of his life came out and not something else. He has a crush on her, one that may grow into something else if they keep going like this.
Geralt will tell him to end it before it gets worse, he knows. Jaskier bites his lower lip, thinking about all the good points his best friend will have. And then he ignores them.
I'll be honest, I panicked a little when the potion cleared my mind and I remembered everything. I won't pretend that the fever didn't have anything to do with it, because it did. It's something I keep under wraps.
But you were nice. Understanding. Supportive. Somehow, I was... comfortable, in a way.
Midge sees it as them getting closer, because it’s clear that he doesn’t tell these sort of things to everyone. She might even be daring to hope that he’ll develop feelings for her that go beyond sex. Maybe he’ll want to be with her exclusively.
She’s getting way ahead of herself. She’s not even sure if this is what she wants, even as she can feel herself starting to fall for him.
I’m happy that I make you comfortable. I think I just have one of those faces, you know? People want to tell me things. One time, a guy in an elevator told me all about his prostate problems.
I'm going to take a guess and say they weren't the sexy kind of problems related to the prostate.
As much as I love your beautiful face, however, you must give yourself more credit. People wouldn't open up to you if your spirit wasn't so welcoming and judgment-free.
Is there something you want to tell me or ask? About today?
While he doesn't have any regrets, writing that question is harder than he looks, but he'd better get used to the idea.
Writing it all down takes some minutes - it's hard, but also kinda therapeutic.
Father paid for Oxenfurt University so I could learn Administration & Finances. As soon as I got there, I changed to the Liberal Arts. He didn't find out until the second year when I went home for my break. As you can imagine, he didn't take it well.
That's definitely it. I can barely believe it myself.
It was a shouting match, so I'm not sure what was first: me announcing I was leaving or him disowning me. Probably happened at the same time. I took some gold from his office before leaving, but once I settled down in Oxenfurt, I started to work. I had a noble education so my skills were valuable. My penmanship is exquisite, so I mostly worked as a scribe. Lots of university documents, but there was also a hidden book shop with taboo texts that printers wouldn't take, I copied those too. The city's theatre troupe taught me how to sew and a bit of embroidery so I could take care of my clothes.
I was not, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard as fuck - so thank you, darling.
It flatters me that you see it that way. I like to think so, too, but I can't deny that my education and that initial gold gave me a hefty advantage. At the same time, however, it's a bit funny that the skill I used the most on the road was sewing, just to keep my witcher in one piece.
Oh yes. I'm a filthy bard kidnapping this sweet, witty lady to corrupt her.
Hedonistic lords, huh? You think I'm hedonistic because of the fortune I used to have? That's interesting. I've always seen it the opposite way - I got tired of all the rules and having to behave in public, of having to hide who I really was. Life is too short not to be enjoyed.
For you? Not necessarily. But I know that people who are extremely wealthy can be hedonistic. You’re saying you come by it naturally. What constitutes as ‘behaving’ in public is subjective.
Oh yes, very sinful. You won't be able to pray again because you'll burn.
True, such people do exist. I noticed that these "celebrities" in this world do engage in a lot of wild behaviour behind the scenes. As for what counts as "behaving"... you know what I meant! You can't repeat the things you say on stage in front of your mother's friends!
Yes, that’s true. I can barely repeat them in front of my mother. Her response to my comedy career is to pretend that it isn’t happening. Or be drunk while watching me.
And yet I know plenty of perfectly decent people who do it.
My parents support is more… tacit. Adjacent. Not active. Knowing they can’t forbid me from doing it. Not thinking I’m really going anywhere with my career. But still willing to watch my kids if I have a gig.
Yes… but I also don’t think I’m necessarily being a bad Jew by sleeping with you.
It could be worse. Even if they’re not really supportive, they also haven’t really tried to stop me. I think they’re hoping that this is a phase I’m going to grow out of, like a teenager.
Jaskier has a suspicion that the temple people wouldn't agree with that, but he lets the matter go. Not in the mood to argue over religion. He thought just a few jokes would be fine, but it seems he'll have to avoid the subject altogether.
That's very true - the fact that they aren't interfering is quite the blessing. I wonder how long they'll keep up the denial. Some day you'll invite them to your hard-earned mansion and they'll pretend they're at the opera.
Midge isn’t the most pious Jew, it’s true. But she equates ‘sinning’ with ‘bad’. She has sex with men (one man, currently). She makes off color jokes. She’s not perfect by any means. But she doesn’t think that she’s ‘bad’, and doesn’t like feeling truly bad. Naughty, perhaps, but not bad. She’s a good girl, Jaskier.
And tone is sometimes lost over text.
I’m sure they’ll be much more supportive when I’m making a lot of money. If.
The next text takes him by surprise, and he can't deny the way it makes him feel all nice and fuzzy inside. There's something to have someone in the middle of the night telling you that they miss you.
I've missed you too. You've spoiled me with good conversation. How am I supposed to argue with small-brained clients now?
[ OOC: just decided to do this, let me know if it doesn’t work. ]
Midge sighs deeply. She was hoping that she wouldn’t have to talk about this, but apparently she can’t even hide her emotions over text.
Joel and I got into an argument.
He came to drop off the kids this afternoon and my parents asked in front of him who I had made soup for. I don’t think they meant to ask in front of him, but of course it set off his radar. I told them about you, briefly. Nothing my parents didn’t already know, that you’re a friend of mine that I met recently and that you were sick. My parents are a little less insistent on prying into my social life. Joel still sometimes thinks he’s owed the explanation that a husband would be, which is ironic when you think about it.
He spoke with me in the hall and wanted to know more about you. I gave him a few details that he… wasn’t impressed with. He asked if we were dating and I denied it, because, technically, we aren’t. Joel knows when I’m lying. He knew we were fucking and I denied it because I didn’t want to argue with him, but it turned into an argument anyway.
I know. It’s okay. You need to rest and regain your strength.
I’m not ashamed of you, nor am I hiding you from them, but… they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t approve of the nature of our relationship. Joel could hardly believe that I was sleeping with someone else. He’s blaming it on the people I’m meeting in the clubs, since I told him that you’re a musician.
Darling, it's alright. I wasn't expecting you to tell them anything, nor did I ever think you're ashamed of me. Clubs have changed you. Your career has changed you. And that's perfectly fine - natural, expected. Not something to weaponize.
Joel is an absolute arse who needs a good punch in the face. You don't owe him any explanations, Midge. I would've understood if I was around the kids, but I'm not. So next time? Just tell him to mind his own business.
Just a moment. A few minutes later, she gets a new text. Go down the ladder outside your window.
Meaning the fire escape. When Midge goes down, she'll find an open portal waiting. Crossing it will probably make her a bit dizzy, but hey, it takes her right to Jaskier's room. He's still tucked in bed and Yennefer is sitting on the edge, wearing a robe.
"Get me a hair of his and I'll curse him in the morning," she tells Midge as a wave of her hand makes the portal disappear. After reminding Jaskier of the rules, she leaves the room.
Jaskier just lifts his blankets and sheets, inviting Midge to get in.
Midge has the wherewithal to put on her robe and slippers before going outside. She finds the strange glowing circle, a window into Jaskier’s bedroom. It’s a weird sensation to step through.
“Boy, you can’t beat travel time like that,” Midge says, sniffing and trying to hold back her tears. She nods at Yennefer, not sure if she really wants to curse Joel.
After the witch leaves, Midge crawls into bed next to Jaskier and lets her tears go, sobbing against his shoulder.
As soon as she crawls into bed, Jaskier covers them both with the blankets and wraps his arms around her, bringing her as close as possible. He kisses the top of her head and rubs her back as he rocks her, very lowly humming a random tune while letting her cry her heart out. Not a word for now, he thinks she needs to let it all out first.
Earlier, he'd been worried about her kids. Now, though? Now he just wants her to get better and fuck everything else. Besides, it's become a normal cold. The main danger is gone. Getting a normal cold won't kill the children.
Jaskier cups her cheek and kisses her forehead. "You can cry as long as you want. Stay as long as you want. You're safe here."
"Of course you care," he says in his softest voice, still rubbing her back. "He was the love of your life, the one you chose to marry. That won't go away overnight. Your heart aches for whom it used to crave." Another kiss for the top of her head. "You mentioned that first, he wasn't impressed by the details - I don't know exactly what you told him, but if it was about life in clubs and the stage, then I imagine that hurts as well. Because he may've been attacking me, but he was indirectly attacking you, too, since we share that lifestyle."
His voice loses its softness with each word, getting angrier by the second. Jaskier takes a moment to take a deep breath and calm down - she needs comfort, not bitching.
"He's just a bitter arse, angry at himself for losing something wonderful, but taking it out on you. Of course it hurts to be attacked for his mistake. Remember that, Miriam: his mistake. Not yours. You haven't done anything wrong."
Midge lays her head back on his chest, nuzzling up underneath his chin.
“I told him that you were a musician and an Otherworlder…” She sighs again. “He knows you’re not Jewish.” It will most likely be the biggest problem that her parents will have with Jaskier as well, should they ever learn the true nature of he and Midge’s relationship. “He shouldn’t have a problem with clubs. The idiot is trying to open his own club in Chinatown.”
Midge puts her hand on Jaskier’s chest, stroking gently and feeling the warmth of his body next to hers.
“It’s hard to remember sometimes. Sometimes I still think I must have done something to drive him away.”
"For fuck's sake..." Of course, it had to be the religion thing. Of fucking course. Jaskier sighs and thanks the gods that Midge is still talking, because he's pretty fucking angry at Joel now and who knows if he could've contained his religious rant.
(If this is such a big deal, he doesn't look forward to meeting her parents, then.)
"That's the kind of argument I would've expected from people in my world. Many a person was stuck in unhappy marriages and couldn't escape - cheating was their only choice. But here? You have fucking divorce. I seriously doubt you did anything, considering he wants you back - but even if you had, he could've just asked for divorce. Yet he didn't. He kept using you as his maid, nanny, and cook. And now he behaves like a controlling arse, which proves he's like that in his spare time and not because of your marriage."
Midge doesn’t want to get into religion right now either. She’s weary and upset. Someday she will try to explain it to him, but not at nearly 4AM.
“He thought he could have me and her. He thought I would forgive him when he came back.” She shrugs. “Joel’s really not a bad guy. He just made a huge mistake and has to suffer the consequences. You’re not the type of guy he thinks I should be with, but he doesn’t get to dictate that.”
"Nobody gets to dictate that, except yourself," he immediately points out, not wanting to think about shit like arranged marriages. "I won't deny that I'm not the kind of bloke a lady introduces to her parents. But I don't think Joel thinks anyone is the 'type of guy' you should be with. So fuck him."
He kisses Midge's cheek. "Worry not, Yennefer will teach him to behave."
“You’re a good person, Jaskier.” Midge wants to make that clear. “But I understand what you mean.” He doesn’t want to settle down. Most parents don’t want that for their children.
“Joel didn’t have much to say about Benjamin, but Benjamin is Jewish, and a doctor. There wasn’t anything he could say. That’s like… the ideal thing a Jewish mother looks for when it comes to a husband for her daughter.” Thus why Rose was so disappointed when Benjamin and Midge’s engagement fizzled.
Midge hums a worried note in her throat. “I don’t want Joel to be hurt,” she warns.
A chuckle. "I'm a bitch. But thank you." It's not even about settling down. It's about him having a dirty mouth, about not behaving according to society's rules, about being a slut, about being an artist without what is considered a 'proper job'. Settling down is the least of his worries when 'meeting the parents'.
Benjamin. That name is new. Jaskier remembers she said she's only slept with two people, so he guesses he must've been the second guy. A doctor, of course - a respectable profession. He bets Joel didn't like him either, but couldn't complain because he liked arguments.
"What happened with this 'ideal' Benjamin?" Curiosity is killing him. Part of him wants to jump on the obvious conclusion: Midge doesn't want traditional anymore. But who knows, maybe he dumped her. "We won't hurt him. Just... scare him a little."
Maybe he’ll have no reason to ever meet her parents, but Midge will deal with the situation if it turns into a disaster. Jaskier has manners, at least.
She sighs. She hasn’t told him about Benjamin has she?
“We were engaged, but it was… too much, too soon. We didn’t want the same things. He wasn’t against my career, but he wanted to have a wife at home and have children. I’ve… done that.” A pause. “It’s not that I wouldn’t have more children if my new husband wanted them, but I want to be able to have my career too.” It seems like an impossible task for a woman to have both.
She glances at Jaskier. “And how are you going to scare him?”
You aren't to me. That's... incredibly sweet. He doesn't have the heart to destroy the idea she has of him. He wants to kiss her properly, but considering the cold, he sticks to kissing the top of her head again.
Engaged?! Hopefully, she's still comfortable on his chest and doesn't see Jaskier's very shocked face. Nothing wrong with wanting to get married again, it's not like he expected Midge to completely give up the idea, he's just surprised by how soon she jumped on it again.
It seems she's aware too - 'too much, too soon'. At least, it doesn't sound like he was a dick to her - it seems he didn't try to change her. So he gets a pass.
"He sounds like a nice bloke. Sorry it didn't work out. I'm glad you're so passionate about your career - although I admit I'm also surprised to hear you'd have more children."
He shrugs, the hand on her back going up to play with her hair. "I'll have to talk to Yennefer. Nightmares are always an option. Or Geralt could pay him a visit. He's good at being intimidating."
Admittedly, her feelings were hurt when Jaskier told her he was seeking a man after his gig at the club, but she didn’t think that was him intentionally trying to hurt her feelings. She agreed to not being exclusive, so she didn’t have much of a right to complain. Otherwise, Jaskier has been nothing but sweet and encouraging to her.
“If my new husband didn’t have a child of his own and he wanted one, I’d try to give that to him.”
Midge huffs a laugh. “Geralt would scare the piss out of him.”
"Try," he repeats. The use of that word immediately raises some alarms. "But is it what you want?"
Ah, she's laughing. Good, it seems the cuddling and chatting truly are helping her feel better. "He's very good at that, too. He's made many a man piss their pants. Literally."
“I don’t know,” Midge replies. “Love and marriage make you sometimes change your mind about what you want. I always wanted to have three children anyway.”
Her fingers gently stroke over his chest. “He can’t know anything is connected to you or I, otherwise he’ll accuse me of trying to attack him.” Midge doesn’t want to deal with the fallout of any potential pranks.
Love and marriage make you sometimes change your mind about what you want.
But where is the line between changing your mind and surrendering a part of yourself? Jaskier doesn't have the answer, and he doesn't want to sound like he's shitting on her ideas either. She may be feeling better, but still not the best of moments. So he only answers, "Mmh." Geralt has taught him well.
"Aww, but the idea was to get him off your back!" He's pouting - see? A bitch. "You take the fun out of it."
Marriage is a give and take. Not big things. Not your whole life and personality. But compromises have to be made. You do them because you love the other person. Jaskier seems to reject all of it outright, despite having a song about making a little sacrifice. It might be a good thing that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship.
“It will create more problems,” Midge says. “He’ll tell his parents, who will tell my parents and then suddenly I’m getting called on the carpet and being asked why I put a curse on my ex-husband.”
Funny enough, he thinks he's sacrificed for Geralt - being the White Wolf's barker meant bigots have treated him like shit for supporting a witcher.
"Because he's being a controlling motherfucker," he immediately replies, his voice almost a growl. She's right, though. This place isn't like home, a curse will only get her in trouble. Jaskier sighs. "Fine, I promise we won't mess with him. But next time he tries something, let me know during it. We'll make him piss his pants on the spot."
“Jaskier.” Midge looks at him. “He doesn’t control me. We argue about things because we don’t always agree and he knows exactly how to push my buttons.”
She sighs. “I guess that’s embarrassing enough that he won’t tell anyone about it. I just don’t want any negativity coming back on you or your family. You have to be careful with magic here.”
"I'm not saying he controls your life, I'm saying he's trying to." Totally different, if you ask him. No, really!
There's a pause before he buries his face in her hair, nuzzling it. "Fuck, I want to kiss you so badly right now. Do you have any idea how sweet you are?" Another pause while calloused fingers draw random shapes on her back. "None of us is strangers to the public seeing us negatively. But I won't deny that being here is a good chance to start over. At the end of the day, though... we must choose to do what is right, not socially acceptable."
“And I’m not going to let him,” Midge replies emphatically.
She leans against him, a smile crossing her lips. “I more often get told that I’m sassy,” she says. “Maybe a little tart.” Pulling back slightly, her eyes rest on his lips. “Do you think you can give me a chaste peck on the lips?” she asks softly.
Reaching up, she runs her fingers through his hair. “Don’t go to jail because of me. I can deal with Joel.”
"You are sassy," he replies with a grin before pressing his lips against hers, chastely and quickly. It's not enough, and pulling back is much harder than it looks.
Jaskier purrs when she pets his hair, always glad to feel her nails on his scalp. "If I hadn't gone to jail, I wouldn't have met you."
It’s not enough. Midge wants him, even though she knows she can’t have him right now. She suffices with resting her forehead against his.
“That’s true. Are you looking to meet some new partners?” she teases as she continues to rub his scalp. The purring is such a lovely sound to her ears.
Jaskier tenses and the purring pauses. If this had been another lover, he wouldn't mind talking about it. But while Midge has agreed to his terms, she hasn't been exactly interested in the details (which, you know, fair). Last time in the bathroom, she didn't take it well. Add to that what has brought her here tonight...
"Is that something you really want to talk about?"
Her hand stops moving in his hair. “I was trying to make a joke… jail isn’t usually the best place to meet lovers.”
Midge moves her head to the crook of his neck. She thought they might talk playfully about it, but she guesses that Jaskier is trying to spare her feelings.
Maybe Joel is right and this isn’t the sort of arrangement she should be in.
"Oh." He instantly relaxes. He's about to ask her to pet his head again, but then she's hiding her face in his neck. Fuck. Jaskier wraps his arms tightly around her, and a hand reaches for her head - now it's his turn to pet her gently.
(This should be a red flag - can she handle this arrangement after all? Jaskier ignores that little worry. Tonight she's vulnerable, he decided the other day that she deserves a chance, and--- and, well, this newly discovered crush is making it hard for him to even consider ending things so soon.)
"Apologies, darling. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I'd feel like that any day, but after seeing you cry like that? I wouldn't forgive myself for making it worse." He drops another kiss on her head. "Honestly? I'm the kind of person who makes friends even in the weirdest contexts." Friends, sure, let's call it that.
“You’re not making it worse,” she says. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought you did.” Any jail lovers they talk about would technically be hypocritical, wouldn’t they?
Midge is feeling vulnerable though. Her heart feels like it’s on the sleeve of her robe and all she wants is to not mess up this good thing in her life. She hasn’t been this drawn to another person in such a long time.
“I like you a lot, Jaskier. When I’m with you, I’m happy. You… make me feel like I really can make it in this business.”
"You came here for the promise of comforting cuddling, not for details about my other lovers." He's half serious, half teasing. "I don't look down on curiosity. So if you want to know what my life is like, like when you asked me about text and phone sex with others, I'll share. If you want us to look at cute men together, we can. But not tonight. Not with you like this."
He thinks that's a fair middle point - a way to show that he'll trust her to handle it, but only if she chooses to.
Her next words make his heart skip a beat, and once again, he wishes he could kiss her right now. But even if he didn't have a cold, Yennefer has reminded him of the rules, and Cirilla continues to be his priority. If he kissed Midge right now, he wouldn't be able to stop.
"See? An absolute sweetheart." Still hungry for contact, he reaches for her hand and kisses it before nuzzling it. "You honor me by calling me your happiness and your encouragement, darling. I like you a lot, too. You're a spark capable of brightening any day."
She nods against his neck. Someday they might be able to get there, but he’s right that tonight isn’t the night. “Proof that not all of my jokes are winners,” Midge says.
Cuddling with him is so nice. She loves the feeling of his arms around her and his warm body pressed up against hers.
“Thank you, my sweet bard.” Midge feels sleepy from the release of emotion and she murmurs against his chest. “Do you mind if I go to sleep?”
lmk if the timeskip prompt doesn't work and I'll change it
He laughs. "To be fair, these were extenuating circumstances. A joke about going to jail to find lovers may be pretty good if you add it to your act."
Her question gets her one last kiss on her hand before he lets go. "Goodness, no. We both need to rest. Good night, darling."
Being emotionally exhausted and having a warm body against his is the perfect combination to help him sleep. In fact, he sleeps past breakfast, but luckily his family doesn't interrupt his rest - they were expecting it because of the cold. It's not super late, either, Ciri and Geralt just happen to be early risers.
When he wakes up, he looks at Midge and smiles. It warms his heart to see she's been comfortable enough to fall asleep so deeply after such a long, vulnerable night. It's a lot of trust.
Does her family know she's gone? She did disappear in the middle of the night, after all. He doesn't know what time her household wakes up - she works late at The Wolford, doesn't she? Maybe they're used to her sleeping in.
Part of his mind says he should wake her up, urge her to go home - but Jaskier is selfish and wants to have her a little longer. He also thinks she needs a break from her parents. So he just brings her closer and lets her sleep on his chest while he reaches for his notebook on his night table. He opens the notebook on his lap and writes a few lines as he hums, inspired by all the little jumps his heart has been making since he texted her last night.
Sleeping with another body next to her makes her feel so comfortable that she drops into a deep slumber. Not even the sun being up wakes her. It’s clear that she needed the rest after an emotional night.
Midge finally stirs against Jaskier, humming in her throat. Waking up next to him feels wonderful and she smiles sleepily up at him. “Good morning…”
She kisses him, forgetting about his cold - and not really caring anyway.
Jaskier hasn't had a proper kiss since last weekend, right before he left for the hunt - so he's definitely starving for affection. His lips respond to her without giving him time to think, and his whole body shivers. Gosh, he missed this.
She looks around, then remembers that she put her phone in her robe pocket before leaving her apartment last night. Midge pulls it out and looks at the time.
“9:24. I’d better call mama.” Midge dials and puts the phone up to her ear. Her parents don’t use these new-fangled devices, so she’s calling the landline. “Hello, mama? Yeah. It’s Midge. No, I’m not calling you from the bedroom. That’s why I’m calling. I’m not in there.”
"Yes. It has white hair, yellow eyes, and a habit of waking up at dawn."
Jaskier leaves the bed and puts on his robe, too. He snickers when he hears her talking and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "You're telling her?" he whispers. "We could've put you back in your room!"
Midge waves her hand at him. She didn’t want her mother to go in her room and panic if she wasn’t there. Now she doesn’t have to rush back.
“I’m okay. Everything’s fine. I’m just letting you know so you don’t think I was kidnapped or something. Should I be offended that you think nobody would want to kidnap me?” Jaskier enjoys kidnapping her. “I’ll explain later. I’ll be back by 10:00. Don’t let Esther eat that sugary cereal for breakfast. I couldn’t get her down for a nap yesterday. Love you, mama. Bye.”
She sighs when she hangs up. “I’ll think of something to tell her. Is your family as nosy as mine?”
Jakier keeps snickering, just amused by the whole deal. However, his laughter instantly dies when he hears that Rose doesn't think anybody would kidnap her daughter. Wow, just wow. His dislike of her parents grows by the second.
"We can get nosy when it comes to Ciri, but that's because we worry about her. But among the three of us?" He shrugs. "We're quite independent. It's normal for us to wake up and find one of us gone. We may ask later about it, but that's more of a 'how was your day' thing." The amusement returns to his expression. "How exactly are you explaining disappearing at 3 a.m. in your robe?"
“Well, Ciri is a child,” Midge says. “Of course you’re concerned about her. The rest of you are adults.” Just like she’s an adult and technically doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.
“Maybe I won’t explain it. Do I have to? Why do I still have to explain myself to my mother?”
Culture. The fact that they all live together. The fact that Rose has to take over mothering duties in Midge’s absence.
He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender at her questions.
"Don't look at me, I didn't think you had to - we could've sent you back without issues. But knowing you and what I can see about your relationship with her? You'll end up explaining anyway."
Jaskier's tongue peeks out, an old habit that shows he's thinking hard about something (usually composing). "If I get you a dress, could you tell her you left early in the morning because Susie called you for a sudden meeting? You had breakfast with a club owner or something. For a potential gig."
Midge grumbles at that observation about she and her mother’s relationship, mostly because Jaskier is completely correct. She would love to tell her mother that she doesn’t owe her an explanation, but it would probably just cause more problems.
“Yeah,” Midge sighs. “That could work. I’m tired of having to explain myself to my parents. I love them, but they don’t need to know everything about my life.”
Jaskier can't help but to sigh as well. It kills him seeing her like this. He wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly.
"I don't think you have to explain yourself, no. My first instinct is to advise you to tell them exactly that." An awkward pause. "But you also have kids. And I know I'm not the right person to comment on how to handle that."
This adds another reason to why he doesn't want them in the first place.
She rests her head on his shoulder, under his chin. Her head seems to fit in that space so well.
“You’re not wrong.” A thought strikes her. “Oh God… I left in the middle of the night. Just… left. Am I a bad mother?”
It’s not the first time she’s had that thought. Obviously if her parents weren’t there, Midge wouldn’t have left her kids all alone, but they could have woken up and been looking for her. What if they discovered that she was gone and they were scared?
"I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't know your parents could watch the children," he clarifies. Honestly, deep down? He isn't so sure - he can be a selfish bastard sometimes. But reassuring her is more important.
Jaskier rubs her back while thinking of what to say. He just wants her to be free - but he also remembers what it's like to have parents who ignore you. What is even the right answer here?
"We should've... handled it better. Left a note or something. But I don't think your leaving was wrong. You need your space, too, Midge. Being a mother doesn't stop you from being a person. And you were having a breakdown. Do you think you could've changed diapers in that state?"
“No,” she replies. “Coming here helped me. I was actually able to sleep.” Midge had been tossing and turning for hours at home. She wipes her eyes and takes a ragged breath. “I don’t want to come up with a lie this time. I’ll tell them that I needed some space and I’ll apologize for not leaving a note, though they hadn’t even noticed that I was gone yet.”
Midge looks up at Jaskier, her blue eyes watery. “I’m sorry to bother you with all of this when you’re sick.”
The fact nobody noticed she was gone says a lot, Jaskier thinks. But it's not the right moment to bring it up. Besides, this is more about her children than her parents - and he can't deny they did fuck up in that regard.
"Oh, darling, never apologize for seeking a shoulder to cry on. Isn't that what friends are for?" It's weird to use the word friends, but there isn't a better option. He reaches for some tissues from his night table to gently wipe her eyes and nose. "Besides, I got to cuddle you. So I can't say I kidnapped you for completely selfless reasons." He winks. It's hard to say if he's being serious or not.
Then he kisses her forehead. "You still want that dress, correct? Because even if you're telling them the truth, I'm assuming you're planning to go back through the front door."
‘Friends’ is probably the best word. ‘Lovers’ sounds weird in this context.
She scrunches her nose a little when he wipes her face. “I enjoyed being cuddled. You’re very nice to sleep with.” Midge means that in both senses of the phrase.
“I probably ought to go in the front door, hadn’t I?… though I don’t have a bra. Hopefully whatever dress you have can hide that fact.”
He smiles softly. "Same to you, darling. You fit really nicely against me." He laughs at the mention of the bra. "That does sound incredibly sexy, to be fair. But don't worry, I got you." He plucks a single strand of hair from her head. "I'll be right back. Enjoy the show, if you want."
If Midge looks out the window, she'll see Geralt and Ciri in the backyard doing sword training. A sweaty Geralt in a tanktop may be good for her mood.
Jaskier comes back moments later with a bundle of clothes in one hand and a tray in the other. There's coffee, warm bread, and jam.
"Would you stay for breakfast at least? I don't think you should go to battle with an empty stomach."
“Ow,” she says when he plucks one of her hairs. Midge imagines it’s for Yennefer to do some kind of spell. Should she be more concerned about the witch having a strand of her hair?
Midge sits on the edge of the bed and watches Geralt spar with Ciri in the yard below. Like the rest of her family, Ciri is beautiful, her hair a golden blonde. It’s the first time Midge has seen her. Sweaty Geralt and his muscled arms are distracting though and she watches him more than the teenage girl.
Oddly, it makes her want Jaskier. He’s not built like Geralt, but he has a very nice body all the same. It’s more than good enough for her.
She grins when he returns with breakfast. “I will. I have some time, assuming I’m going to get home the same way that I got here.”
"Of course. Wouldn't expect you to get in a cab without makeup." Just a bit of teasing. He isn't the kind of person who likes to go out without looking his best, either.
His initial idea is to clean his desk, but he notices where Midge is sitting and grins. He leaves the bundles of clothes on the chair before sitting on the bed next to her, the tray between them. Jaskier has brought her coffee like he remembered from their time at the cafe after their sex marathon, but he's having (a very aromatic) tea.
"Enjoying the view, I take it? If you want a 'taste of that'--" He waggles his eyebrows, grin still in place, tone joking. "Geralt made the bread and the jam." He then drinks his tea, amused by his own stupid joke.
She rolls her eyes fondly at his joke. “The only one I want a taste of is you.” Midge innocently sips her coffee (which he made exactly how she likes it, she noticed) and playfully rubs her toes against his calf.
“I know we can’t have sex here. I have a gig later this week though, so I hope you’ll be feeling better by then.”
Jaskier can't help wondering if that would still be true if Geralt was single. But before his thoughts can wander too far, he feels her toes on his leg.
"She says she knows, yet she teases. Mischievous lady." He nods while spreading jam on a slice of freshly baked bread. "Count me in. Honestly, I'm feeling better already. Today is recovery day. I'll probably be out and about tomorrow." He tilts his head. "Some musician friends told me about an art jam on the weekend. Would you be interested?"
Midge can’t say for certain if she wouldn’t rather be with Geralt, but the fact is that she and Jaskier have much more in common than she and Geralt do. There’s much more to attraction than just the physical and Jaskier stimulates her brain as well as her body.
She picks up a piece of bread and starts to spread jam on it. “What’s an art jam?” she asks.
"Oh Midge, it's this most amazing concept, I was so happy when they told me about it," he explains as his general body language gets rather bouncy. "Artists get together in a club or a bar and just... create! They drink and chat, bounce off each other's ideas. Build something together, or mayhaps simply get inspiration. Great to exchange phone numbers too." He takes a bite of his bread and chews it rapidly when he remembers something. "I guess I need to get those card thingies, don't I."
“Oh,” she replies. “Alright. I guess I can bring my notebook and work on some new jokes.” She’s needed to take some time to do that. Midge might be distracted by all the other artists present, depending on how loud they are, but it can’t hurt to go.
“I never really felt like an artist before I met you. Comedy isn’t seen as an art, you know. Not like painting or ballet.” She shrugs. “I don’t have business cards. Should I have business cards?”
He beams when she agrees to come, clearly very excited to have her there. He promises to send her the details later and takes another bite of his bread, almost choking when she mentions what art is.
"How can it NOT be art? You tell stories! You write! You need creativity! You need timing and charm to take control of the stage! You call out society for their crap! You make people think and feel new things! How are all those things not art? How is it any different from a comedic play? Your characters just happen to be your children and your ex."
Does she need cards? He thinks about that for a second. "I'm not sure how things with a manager work. Is Susie the only one allowed to make contacts?"
His words make her grin. He’s always so complimentary of her and what she does. Midge feels like he’s one of the only people who understands why she has to pursue comedy as a career.
“Thank you,” she replies. “I can make contacts if I want to.” She takes a bite of the bread. “Maybe I do need business cards. What would they say? Mrs. Maisel - Comedian? Would yours say Bard?”
"Just 'comedian' works. I suppose we can't exactly add 'tits of a goddess'." He winks before taking another bite of his bread, thinking about his answer while chewing.
"Musician. Singer. Composer. Poet. Writer. Chronicler." Suddenly he wrinkles his nose. "I'll have to make a different set for Yennefer's and Geralt's services, won't I? Should I call myself their manager?"
“I could add it,” she says with a little smile, “but I don’t want to be hired just for my fantastic tits.” Midge has been working hard to book gigs because she’s actually funny, not because of how she looks.
“You’re multitalented.” Midge takes another sip of coffee. “How do you think they would feel about you considering yourself their manager.”
He chuckles. "We'll have to hide them. They're very distracting."
The question leaves him thinking for a second. "I don't know. The word is still new to us, we're trying to understand how it works. They want me to do all the talking with clients, promoting, and negotiating. Isn't that what a manager does?"
“Well, I don’t want to hide them completely…” Midge arches her back a little, pushing her breasts forward. Not to entice him too much, but she isn’t wearing a bra under her nightgown and her nipples show hard through the satin.
“Yes, that is what a manager does. I always think of the manager as the person who is in charge.” A beat. “But I don’t see Susie as being in charge of me.” The two of them make decisions together.
His eyes definitely go down, and he can't help but lick his lips at the sight. Jaskier hasn't had an orgasm in almost a week, and for him, that's a sin. "Like I said: very distracting."
He can't help glancing at her chest while the conversation continues, so he tries to keep himself busy by eating and drinking. "Yeah, that's the sense I got from what people I said, and why I wasn't precisely on board with the idea of getting one for myself." Another pause. "You're right, you don't let Susie be in charge of you. I'll talk to Yennefer and Geralt, see what they think. Nothing says we can't add our own spin to it, right?"
Fortunately, Midge doesn’t mind if he stares at her chest. She wants him, though she’ll have to be content with meeting at the apartment later in the week.
“Maybe you’re more of a spokesman,” she says. “Somebody who speaks for the group, but you’re not in charge.”
A gasp. "A spokesman is perfect. Oh, you brilliant, beautiful woman--" His hands reach forward, but he pulls them back at the last second. "Fuck. It's so hard not to kiss you right now. You're torturing me here, my witty lady."
She grins and closes her eyes for the kiss, but is sadly not rewarded. “You can kiss me,” Midge says, “unless you think you won’t be able to stop.”
Leaving him is going to be difficult today. It’s going to take everything in her to go and be responsible instead of dragging him off to the Goldsteins’ apartment. Jaskier needs to rest though. He’s still not 100% well.
"I won't be able to stop," he says. Yet he still leans in to press his mouth against hers, closing his eyes so he isn't tempted further by her lovely body. By concentrating on the sound of swords clashing outside, he manages to keep it chaste. Pulling back takes effort, and he ends up resting his forehead against hers. "Thanks, by the way. For playing nurse for me. Napping on your thighs was really nice."
She hums against his mouth, enjoying the kiss until he breaks it. At least he stays close to her.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you… but I also wasn’t sure if you were just… busy.” With other lovers. “Or maybe you didn’t want to talk to me.”
It was a fine line between feeling like she was concerned and wondering if she was bothering him.
"Oh, darling..." Desperate for more touch but not wanting to push the temptation too far, he brings her hand up to nuzzle it. He's smiling softly, his heart feeling all fuzzy by her affection.
"What Yennefer told you wasn't a lie - during hunts, I may not always be available to answer. But even if I'd actually been busy-" He waggles his eyebrows. "There'd be nothing wrong with you messaging me. I'd just answer it when I see it. I promise you I don't expect you to answer me immediately, either, if you're with the kids. Or any other kind of busy." He'd pout a lot, because he can get annoying when he's attention-hungry. But that's not her fault.
Then he kisses her hand. "I love talking to you, of that you can be sure. Being a hedonistic bitch means I don't keep around anyone or anything I dislike."
She strokes the back of her finger down his cheek. “I love talking to you too,” Midge replies. “And sometimes letting our bodies talk instead.” Leaning in, she kisses his other cheek.
Midge smiles at him referring to himself as a hedonistic bitch. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to me.” Mostly. “I guess you must like me a lot.”
Her kiss makes his whole body shiver, and he lets out a little sigh. He likes sweet moments and small tokens of affection - not everything has to be about sex (no, really!). But considering the current context, he can't help but feel a bit frustrated. Hearing Ciri's laughter coming through the window is what helps him pull back.
"You're an absolute sweetheart, and it's contagious," he explains after another sip of his tea. "I joke a lot about corrupting you, but the real miracle is that you've managed to keep so much of the sweet housewife with you after so much time in clubs, the stage, and the harsh reality of the nightlife." He wrinkles his nose. "And you can't tell Geralt that I said that, because usually I'm the one trying to bring sunshine into this family."
But he's also seen the world, and had to learn to navigate what it's made of outside the family estate.
She loves to make him shiver like that. It’s comforting that even a small touch from her can make him react in such a way.
“It’s not an easy business,” Midge says, resting her head against Jaskier’s shoulder, “but I don’t want it to change who am I. I’d like to think I’m not naive about a lot of things, although you’ve perhaps changed my mind about that. I know showbiz is ruthless. I hope I can survive without becoming ruthless myself.”
"It's not only about the business," he clarifies. There's an awkward pause then. When he first talked about his family, he was high on fever. The second time was on text, and the devices help put a distance when it comes to difficult matters. Having to bring this up face-to-face feels different, but he's glad he can trust her with it. "It's also about living in the real world outside the family money."
Been there, done that; many harsh lessons were learned. Her comment on naivety makes him wonder if she means in general or regarding sex.
He grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I hope you achieve it, I truly do. It's always been my goal while traveling with Geralt, helping him see the brighter things in life while walking in the dark. And we're hoping we can keep Ciri safe in the sunshine, too, which is why we don't want to go back to our homeworld. But like I told you about morbid humor, there's no denying I've absorbed some of it." Cynicism, he means. He lets his head rest on top of hers. "Although I suppose my own family made me a bit of a bitch, too. That's the other amazing thing about you - you're not snobbish."
Midge wraps her arms around him, unable to help herself. “Even though my family has money, my parents always wanted me to be practical. I also never really looked down on people for being different. The way I see it, my people have been judged to the point of almost being wiped off the Earth. I can’t very well believe stereotypes about black people or gay people if I know that the ones about Jews aren’t true.”
She raises her head to look at Jaskier. “I haven’t met her yet, but I think all of you are doing a wonderful job with Ciri. You make your decisions based on what’s best for her, which is what you should do.
I’m no stranger to morbid humor, but there’s a time and place. I don’t want to live being cynical all the time. My comedy points out hypocrisy in what I hope is a funny way, but a way that still makes people think.”
And what else can he do but hug her back? He's weak. Sue him.
Her explanation makes a lot of sense, yet here's when Jaskier's world perception comes in - sadly, not everyone who belongs to a certain group is as accepting of other groups, too. He's met many bigoted elves and racist queers. Hell, the fact that he's here thinking she's very accepting for a religious person says this about himself, too. Is he going to say that aloud? Hell no.
The comment about Ciri makes him smile. "Thank you, darling. It means a lot to hear that." He kisses the top of her head, his body still itching for more affection. "You're right, it's not fun to be cynical all the time. That's usually my philosophy, too - I never meant to argue against it. I simply can't help being amused by how you see me. That's all."
She’d like to think that her religion is a little bit different, but she won’t ever press Jaskier on it. It’s clear that he has had bad experiences with religion that were very formative for him.
Midge rests a hand on his chest. “Because I see you as sweet and not as a hedonistic bitch?” She looks at him with obvious fondness in her eyes. How quickly she’s grown attached to him.
There’s a pause and then she speaks again. “Do you have plans for the last weekend of September? I was hoping you’d come to my cousin’s wedding in the Hamptons with me. As my date. A friend.”
Perhaps that’s too much to ask, and she hadn’t exactly meant to ask him now. It has just… come out when she was contemplating how much she liked him. Jaskier is probably the only person who can help her get through this God-awful wedding.
Jaskier puts a hand on top of hers on his chest, nodding as he hopes she can't tell that his heart skips a beat when she looks at him like that. It's too much, too risky - yet he can't help but bask in it.
He's distracted by the way she looks at him and how he's internally dealing with this crush, so her question catches him by surprise, completely throwing him off.
"...what?" His eyes are wide, his body tense. He's touched that she wants him there; he's also absolutely panicking. "You-- you want me around your family? As your-- plus one?" He can't say 'date'. It's fine to tease about going on dates in private, but context suddenly makes it a big word. "What are you even going to tell them?"
“Yes,” she says, her confidence faltering a bit at his reaction. She did spring this on him out of nowhere though. “I’ll tell them you’re my plus one for the wedding. They already know you’re my friend.” Midge sighs. “I understand it’s a lot to ask, and you can have some time to think about it, but my cousin and her family are absolutely insufferable. I can’t go alone.”
Having Jaskier there will make things so much better.
Seeing her falter does make him feel a bit bad, but it's not enough to overtake the panic. Even if she only introduces him as a mere plus one, he knows exactly what they'll say behind their backs. And if this was merely like being seen with one of his other lovers in a bar or something, it wouldn't be a big deal - but he knows how much the family affects Midge's life. Not to mention, he has to wonder if she asking him means something else from her in the first place.
"A lot indeed," he replies as he swallows. Fuck. His hand tightens around her. "Let me think about it and I'll get back to you soon? This is... a lot." He already said that, didn't he? But his silver tongue is rather stuck at the moment.
“Of course,” she replies. That’s fair, isn’t it? Midge will try not to be disappointed if he says no. She thinks a lot of him, and thinks that a man who grew up rich and who has sang in the courts of kings and queens will know how to charm her relatives.
She kisses his cheek again, then picks up her coffee to finish it. “It’s getting closer to 10:00. What clothing did you bring me?”
That kiss almost makes him want to say yes on the spot, and that thought alone is terrifying. Thank goodness she changes the subject.
"Oh, right!" He leaves the bed to get the clothes, which he hands to her one by one. "Panties, bra, flats, aaaand-" He unfolds some dark green fabric. "Dress. Yennefer's spell used your hair, so it should fit perfectly. You'll be able to wear it one or two more times before it fades away, if you wish."
“Oh,” she says, looking at and then feeling the fabric of the dress. “That’s beautiful.”
Done with her breakfast, Midge pushes down the straps to her nightgown and lets the satin fall down her naked body. She’s sure this is doing nothing for how much both she and Jaskier want each other, but Midge allows him to admire her for a moment before she reaches for the panties and bra.
His breath catches when her nightgown falls (gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous), and Jaskier forces himself to look away before his cock wakes up. Looking out the window is a horrible idea, however, because a sweating Geralt makes it worse. Jaskier is mostly immune to it nowadays, but right now his body is needy and sensitive to certain kinds of stimuli.
He distracts himself by searching his closet for one of those retail paper bags from his many purchases so she can throw her robe and nightgown in it. When he puts it down on his desk, he notices his Polaroid camera and picks it up.
"Do you think we could--" He then realizes how it sounds for him to ask for a picture when she's still getting dressed. "-once you're done, of course."
Midge doesn’t blame him for looking away in this situation. It’s hard not to try to entice him at this moment, even though she knows she can’t.
She glances up when he speaks again. While she might not be opposed to doing pictures for him in her underwear, or even topless, now isn’t the time. It’s a relief when he says he wants a picture of her in the dress, though she’s still unsure.
“Really?” she asks as she steps into the dress. “But my hair’s a mess and I have no makeup on.”
"So you look like I just fucked you? Oh no!" It's both sarcastic and extremely dramatic. "How could I live with that image taunting me between the pages of my poems?"
He comes closer to help her with the buttons at the back of her dress, moving a bit more slowly than he should because he wants to savor the brush of his fingers against her skin. "I think you look amazing in everything, including naturally." He kisses her shoulder. "But I understand wanting to look your best. Bathroom is at the end of the corridor. You'll find my brush, my creams, and my eyeliner. I know it's not much, but it's safer than Yennefer's private vanity."
She closes her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his fingertips on her skin. The offer to use his cosmetics is nice, but she thinks she can bear this. Midge looks in the mirror and runs her fingers through her hair, flattening it down. She twirls a little in the dress too; it fits her like a glove.
“You can take a picture of me like this,” Midge tells him. “It’s just for you anyway.”
"You are too good to me," he replies with a soft smile. Jaskier makes her sit on his desk, just because he likes the idea of her next to his work, and quickly takes the photo.
While he shakes it, he looks at her with his head tilted. "Should I take the camera to your next gig? I'd love to take one together, too, but no makeup will save my nose now."
Not to mention he seriously needs a shower. When the picture is ready, he shows it to her and kisses her cheek. "As pretty as the real one."
“Sure, if you want to. Don’t let Susie tell you no photos.” Knowing her, she’d try to monetize it somehow.
Midge smiles at the Polaroid. Fortunately, they don’t show a lot of detail, so you can’t really even tell that she isn’t wearing makeup. “Thank you. This dress is beautiful.”
it's a few years off for the pill but fuck the timeline
Jaskier tucks the picture in his notebook but before he can answer, the door opens.
"Thank you. Enjoy it while it lasts," Yennefer replies as she comes inside.
"Don't you know how to knock?" Jaskier glares at her.
"As if that stopped you before." Yennefer doesn't even look at Jaskier, who pouts at her answer. She approaches Midge and hands her a box with twelve small potion bottles, all filled with a grayish-purple liquid. "Birth control. That pill your doctors sell here--" The disgust is clear in her voice. "-messes with women's hormones. These are safer." She looks at Jaskier then. "What did you call the tiny ones?"
"Oooh, free samples! You finished them?" He runs to peek inside the box. "Most of our clients are men. Husbands think magic and monster matters are too dangerous to be handled by their wives." He rolls his eyes. "We've been looking for a way to reach women."
Yennefer nods. "You can keep one or two, if you wish, but we'd appreciate it if you share them with your friends." Her eyes are rather intense when she says appreciate - she's playing nice, but she thinks Midge owes her after so many portals. "Together with Jaskier's number, of course. So they can order more."
Midge is taken aback when Yennefer presents her with the box of potions. A tinge of pink forms on her cheeks after the witch explains what they are.
“O-Oh…” she says. “Yes, of course I will.” Giving out an unregulated potion sounds like a way to get the FDA on your case, but Midge knows that women will be very interested in this, even if it’s considered taboo to talk about.
She glances at Jaskier. “Did you put her up to this?”
"To make free samples? Yes, it was my idea. To ask for your help to hand them out, though?" Jaskier shakes his head and raises his hands in a gesture of innocence. He doesn't say more, wanting Yennefer to finish explaining. Like Geralt, she needs to socialize more.
Yennefer glares at him before turning to Midge. "Well. Since you wrote to me, asking for--" She hesitates, unsure of how to approach this.
"Frieeeeeendshiiiiiip?" Jaskier teases. Yennefer smacks him on the arm, but he just laughs.
“I meant to make it in the first place,” she clarifies. It seems like a very Jaskier thing to ask for, considering that it will enable them to not have to use condoms anymore.
Midge won’t bring it up right now, but there’s still the risk of disease, especially because she and Jaskier aren’t exclusive. Unfortunately, they may not be done with condoms after all.
She grins at Yennefer. “I know. It feels weird asking for something like that as an adult, but adults need friends too.”
"Oh." His eyes widen when he realizes Midge may think he asked Yennefer to do it for them. Or for Jaskier's night adventures. Or both. "Oh, fuck no! Nope, nothing like that - that was all her." He waves his hands in Yennefer's direction, so she smacks them away. "I didn't even know she could do that until she brought it up."
Yennefer offers Midge the tiniest of smiles - just the smallest turn of the corners of her lips. But she has a reputation to maintain. "You sound like him. No wonder you two get along so well." She turns to Jaskier. "Is everything ready?"
Yennefer raises her hands to open a portal behind Midge's building, near the fire escape. Even if she's entering through the front door this time, she shouldn't show up in the middle of the street.
Jaskier rushes to put Midge's clothes and the box of mini potions inside the paper bag and hands it to Midge as he kisses her cheek. "Let me know how it goes with your family, alright?"
She raises an eyebrow at Jaskier. “Well, trust me when I say that a lot of women will be very interested in these, if I don’t use them all myself.”
Midge takes the bag from Jaskier, then gives him a gentle kiss. “I will. I’ll see you on Wednesday night? You can always meet me at the apartment if you don’t want to come to my gig.” She won’t be offended.
“Thank you,” she tells both Jaskier and Yennefer. “If you really want to market something, it should be this thing.” Midge points to the portal. “With how traffic is in the city, people would pay good money to get somewhere in an instant.”
He knows women would love something like this, that's why they've chosen it as one of their main products to market. But he doesn't have time to express that thought - Midge says she may use them all herself, and Jaskier's breath catches. Is it a joke or...?
"I won't miss it for the world."
Marketing portals would be impossible even if they wanted to, but Midge is already gone so Yennefer saves the explanation for when they finally go out on their girls' date.
Jaskier knows he has to give her time, and dealing with family (especially hers!) can't be easy. But he's worried about the consequences of this little escapade. He doesn't regret it, but he'll still feel bad if shit goes down.
Only an hour and a half passes before he texts her. How did it go?
She wasn’t joking, though maybe these potions don’t work like the pill she’s heard about. Her understanding is that you have to take them every day or they don’t work. Maybe the potions are different.
When Jaskier texts her, she’s walking to the grocery store to pick up a few things. She stops to reply.
Not as badly as I thought it would. They were concerned and weren’t exactly sure why I went to see you. I said I needed some space and that I also wanted to make sure that you were feeling better. They would prefer if I don’t make a habit of it and that I leave a note next time.
The potions are indeed different! The label explains that one sip a week is enough. Isn't magic great?
The reply takes a little longer to arrive - Jaskie is in shock. She told them she went to his place? Holy crap. He thought she would tell them she went for a walk to clear her mind or to a bar. It's touching to see her be open about their friendship, and his little crush giggles like a schoolgirl. The rational part of him, however, knows that a woman sneaking into a man's room in the middle of the night is going to bring assumptions. He wonders what her parents think of him now, which makes him more wary about the wedding.
I'd make a joke about them ruining my future kidnapping plans, but honestly - I'm just relieved to hear it went well. I'm not about to regret anything (except the lack of note), but no matter how much they may irritate me, I wouldn't want to get between you and your parents either. I can see how much they mean to you. Are you feeling well? They didn't leave you too shaken, did they?
Maybe she shouldn’t have been so honest, but she’s tired of making up stories. Midge won’t be telling them about she and Jaskier’s rendezvous at the apartment, but she thought she could manage with this. It’s made them want to meet Jaskier, probably because they can tell that something is going on, but she’s going to put that off as long as she can. Hopefully, he’ll agree to come with her to Leah’s wedding.
It won’t ruin anything. I’m trying to set some boundaries with them. We’re all fine. I’m sure they suspect that we’re together, as they want to meet you, but don’t worry. I’ll hold them off as long as we need to.
...they want to meet him. Fuck. There's no way that fucking wedding can go well, but he's not about to bring that up when she just went through that awful night.
Boundaries are great - I'm proud of you, my dear lady. I'll see you on Wednesday, then?
Not his smoothest exit from a conversation, but the subject is getting on his nerves. This is going down a dangerous path, and yet he can't bring himself to pull out. He rants to Geralt about it, and his friend says that Jaskier knows what the right thing to do is.
He's weak, though. He just can't. Things haven't blown up yet; is it so bad to hold on to hope? They text a few more times during the week, because chatting with her is always delightful, but the subject of the wedding doesn't come up. The elephant in the room is clear, though.
On Wednesday, Jaskier shows up at the club wearing a dark green suit that he's purchased himself, in honor of how much she liked Yennefer's dress. He's brought his lute and his satchel as usual, but no flowers - he doesn't want to give her parents another excuse to talk. This time, the gift is smaller (hideable!) and waiting in his bag.
That was a quick exit, and Midge wonders if she’s done something wrong. He seems absolutely terrified of meeting her parents. Maybe it’s just what that implies. Perhaps he’s panicking. Midge doesn’t want him to panic though. She can tell them no. As difficult as it may be, she has a right to some privacy.
They speak a few times during the week, but Midge doesn’t bring up the wedding. She doesn’t want to push him. It seems difficult to find a balance with him lately. Perhaps they’ll talk when she sees him next (between rounds of sex).
The one thing she knows they’re in sync with is sex, and Midge is very happy to see him at her gig on Wednesday. She kills her set, then meets him in the club afterwards. “You look incredible,” she murmurs to him after kissing his cheek. She’s wearing a rich purple dress that unintentionally compliments his suit. “We could have a drink, or we could get out of here…”
Yes, she’s horny for him. No sense in beating around the bush.
"Takes one to know one," he replies as his eyes admire her body from head to toes.
Midge looks gorgeous in that dress, and Jaskier can already feel his own body reacting to her. It's a bit surprising, to be honest. He's always been a horny bastard, but this is strong - and it's not like he hasn't slept with anyone since he recovered, because he has. A week without orgasms had to be taken here of. And yet, here he is, hungry for their spark.
"We're so getting out of here," he replies as he licks his lip. "But first..."
He grabs her wrist and pulls to make her sit on his lap. Then he hands his camera to a waiter for a picture, making sure to tip her well. Once the photo is bright and clear in his hand, he grins at Midge.
It’s saucy, sitting on his lap in public, but Midge finds that she doesn’t care. She wraps her arms around him and leans in close, mugging for the camera a bit.
“We shall,” she replies, taking his arm.
The pick up her coat, hat and purse and leave the club. “Did you take any pictures during my set?”
Susie wasn’t there tonight, so Jaskier didn’t have to worry about her trying to stop him from taking photos.
"No, I didn't think of it," he explains as he uses the excuse of their linked arms to keep her close. He can already feel the warmth of her body. "I was too distracted by your jokes. And by how amazing your tits look in that dress."
As soon as they step out, Jaskier stops a cab. He loves walking and chatting with her, but tonight he's desperate to just lose himself in their fucking and stop thinking so much about where this relationship is going.
He makes sure their legs are brushing when they sit, and he uses the chance to take out his gift for her. "I know flowers are the traditional gift after a performance, but I wanted to do something different." The real reason is that he doesn't want another gift that her parents will notice, but details. He hands her a small box of chocolates and the label says they're filled with liquor.
Most importantly, when Midge opens the box, she'll discover that the chocolates are shaped as boobs, dicks, and tits.
She’s surprised that he wants to take a cab, but she goes along with it, sitting close to him in the backseat.
“Another gift? What have I done to deserve all this?” Opening the package, she ooohs at him. “Liquor filled chocolates are the best of both worlds. Want one?”
When she opens the box, Midge stares at the shapes of the chocolates inside. “Are those…?” Immediately, she starts cracking up. “Where did you get these?”
"Oh yes," he says very dramatically. He loves it when she gets sassy. "Your jokes are great too."
Jaskier casually shrugs when she asks if he wants one, leaving it vague on purpose in case she doesn't want to take the chocolates out in the cab. He grins in excitement when she does open the box, and laughs along, delighted by her reaction.
"There's a store that will make any shape you want for the occasion. Like pacifiers for a baby shower. I take it my lady likes them?" He winks. Obviously she does, but he likes it when she praises him. Sue him.
Jaskier smirks at her choice and reaches into the box to steal a pair of tits (that sure is a sentence). He gives them a lick before pushing them into his mouth.
"They're yours to do as you please." He leans in to whisper in her ear, "as am I."
A shiver runs down her spine and Midge turns her head to capture Jaskier’s mouth in a chocolatey, alcoholic kiss.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” she murmurs to him. “I missed you.”
Not just the sex, but his company. The last time they met like this, it was wonderful. It ended on a sour note, but hopefully that won’t be the case this time.
Jaskier has always been shameless, but he doesn't expect Midge to be the one starting a kiss in the cab. Maybe he is corrupting her after all. His hand falls on her thigh as he kisses her back, humming in delight.
"I've missed you, too."
Before they can forget where they are and let things escalate, the cab makes it to their destination, and the driver is clearly relieved to get rid of them. Jaskier puts his arm around Midge's back as they make their way into the building, and as soon as the elevator doors close, his hand drops to squeeze her arse.
"Kissing me so needily on the back of the cab," he whispers against her ear. "My witty lady is in a daring mood tonight."
It’s just a little kiss. Midge isn’t trying to start anything in the cab, nor is she trying to make the driver uncomfortable, but maybe she got a bit carried away. At least they’re at the apartment now.
She gives a little yelp when Jaskier grabs her ass. “Just showing you how much I missed you, my sweet bard.” Reaching back, she gently cups his penis.
Jaskier gasps and quickly follows it with laughter. She's definitely very daring tonight, and he's loving it. He wraps his arms around her, bringing her close to kiss her again. He barely gets started when the elevator reaches their floor and the doors open.
"Unfair, I was having fun." He isn't coming out. "What if I push that big red button and fuck you here?"
She grins and laughs with him before turning around to kiss him as the elevator takes them up to the third floor.
“I don’t think my claustrophobia would like that very much,” Midge replies before taking his hand. “There’s much more room in the apartment. Remember how big the bed is?”
"But the bed is so far awaaaaaaaaay..." The whining tone is exaggerated and dramatic, making sure she knows he's teasing.
Jaskier follows her into the apartment, and as soon as she locks the door, he pushes her against it and captures her mouth in a kiss. It's rough, needy, desperate - his body has missed her curves, his heart has missed their shared spark, his mind wants to get lost in mindless fucking and stop thinking. He only breaks the kiss to drop his satchel on the floor and put down his lute on top of it - the only thing he does slowly and gently, because his instrument is sacred.
Then it's back to kissing her- not, devouring her. His tongue searches for hers and his hungry lips smear her lipstick all over both their mouths. Calloused hands fall on Midge's thighs to raise her, guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist. Now he can grind against her, his cock slowly waking up in his pants.
It’s always amusing to her how he treats his lute with such care. She doesn’t blame him, of course, but he could be in the middle of a hurricane and his lute will still get laid down gently, like a baby.
Midge doesn’t have too long to contemplate this because soon she’s up against the door with his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers. She kisses him hungrily, then wraps her legs around his waist, her skirt hiking up. No sexy lingerie seduction tonight. Both of them are starving for each other.
“Fuck,” she gasps in between kisses. “I’ve missed your cock, my sweet bard.” She can feel him growing hard against her.
"Good," he replies with a husky voice. "Because I'm going to fuck you so many times tonight, you'll still be feeling my cock in you while you're on stage."
While kissing her again, he carries her to the living room, dropping both their jackets along the way. Her hat has already fallen, which makes him feel very smug. Without much warning, he drops Midge on the couch and takes off her shoes before doing the same with his own. He takes off his belt and his vest, too, but he leaves his tie on for her to grab if she wishes.
Now that the annoying layers are off, Jaskier climbs between her legs to resume the kiss, the tent in his pants quite obvious. Once again, calloused hands wrap her legs around him so he can grind against her - is she already wet, he wonders. Will it leave a stain on his pants? He doesn't care - no, scratch that, he does care, but only by finding it terribly arousing. Once he's tasted every inch of her mouth, he drops a trail of kisses down her neck until he reaches her cleavage and just buries his face in it.
“Yeah?” She grins. “You want me to feel it and think about you while I’m up there?”
Midge does grab at his tie so that she can pull him in for another hungry kiss. A soft moan leaves her mouth at the sensation of grinding against his cock. She’s not drenched yet, but she’s getting there. While Jaskier concentrates on her breasts, Midge reaches down and adjusts herself so that she can get her panties off. Once they’re tossed on the floor, she digs both of her hands into Jaskier’s hair, tugging gently at it.
A glint appears in Jaskier's eyes as she gets her panties off, and he grins against her breasts.
"Always so eager for me. Madenning."
He nibbles on a tit before going down, disappearing under her skirt. She's not drenched yet, no, and it's his job to do so. There's no foreplay on her thighs, not this time - they need a good orgasm to burn this need off. Jaskier wraps her legs around his head and neck before diving in, taking her into his mouth with the same desperation he used to kiss her.
Midge lets out a moan when Jaskier presses his mouth against her cunt. She spreads her thighs eagerly and pulls up her dress so that she can watch him between her legs. Just seeing him down there makes the honey start to pool between her folds. Her fingers stay tangled in his hair, gently guiding his tongue where she wants it.
His reply is a simple hum of agreement. Of course he loves it.
Her moans are such beautiful music, and Jaskier is eager for more of them to caress his ears. He wraps his arms around her legs, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth closes around her clit. He sucks with the thirst of a man in the desert, letting his tongue flick it and lick it with gusto. The act itself is incredibly arousing for him, too, and his hips start to thrust into the couch.
Midge’s eyes flutter closed for a second as she enjoys the sensation of his mouth. Her hips rock gently against his face, wanting more. After going without for so long, it won’t take Jaskier long to make her come.
“Your tongue is so good…” She gasps and moans. “That’s it… get me dripping wet for you.”
When she starts rocking against his face, he knows she's ready. But he keeps pleasuring her just a bit longer, always eager to spoil a lover and tremendously addicted to the taste of her cunt. He doesn't pull back until his lower face is completely wet with her arousal and his underwear feels too fucking tight.
Jaskier sits on his heels and guides Midge's hands to the front of his pants. "Want to do the honors, darling?"
He brings her up and up until Midge is about to orgasm, then pulls back. She whimpers in need and quickly unbuttons Jaskier’s pants. He looks even hotter than usual with his face covered in her juices like that.
Pants open, Midge pushes them down along with his underwear. “I took the potion,” she tells him breathlessly. Are they safe without a condom? Technically, they’ve already fucked without a condom.
Jaskier’s hard cock springs up and Midge wraps her fingers around it, stroking him to further hardness.
Before he can say more, Midge wraps her lovely fingers around his throbbing cock, and Jaskier lets out a very needy moan. He holds on to the back of the couch and thrusts into her hand, desperate for more.
"Midge... I want you..."
Her movements slow down when he becomes fully hard, and he sees that as his sign to continue. Jaskier captures her mouth in a needy kiss as he lowers his body on top of hers. His hand guides his aching cock to her entrance and he penetrates her slowly, keeping an eye out for any discomfort - he may've eaten her out, but this is still round one and they didn't do much foreplay. He mumbles a whimpering fuck under his breath, driven crazy by how tight and wet she's around him. Without the condom or the bathtub, he's feeling her all, and gods, he should've asked Yennefer for that damn potion sooner.
Once he's sure she's fine, all bets are off. It's clear they're both desperate for each other and they need to get it out of their system. Jaskier makes her wrap her legs around him for easier access and starts thrusting into her hard, panting and moaning her name right into her ear. She's always felt amazing, but without a condom, it's even better.
Midge moans in satisfaction when he pushes his hard cock inside of her. She’s wet enough that there is no pain. Without the condom, she can really feel him and the sensation is incredible.
At his urging, her legs move easily up over his hips. Midge arches her back, doing her best to meet each of his thrusts. It’s intense, and desperate, and just what she needs. Her hands dig into his hair.
Her moaning his name is the sweetest music and it drives him crazy. His fingers dig into the skin of her thigh, needing to hold on as he picks up speed. Every moan of hers, every look, every drop of her arousal wetting his cock make his blood boil.
"Midge..." he moans back with his mouth still against her ear, his mouth clumsily trying to kiss the closest skin available. "Fuck, you're so good and wet for me. And raw. It's so fucking good. You're a dream, darling."
His free hand reaches between them, struggling to move off the skirt of her dress for a second before finally finding her clit to rub with the same desperation.
All Midge can really do in this position is hold on for dear life, but sometimes just being fucked into a mattress or couch is perfect. It’s all she needs right now, to feel his weight on top of her and his hard cock thrusting inside of her. Midge gives another loud moan when she feels his fingers in her clit.
“Fuck…” She trails off, lost in the pleasure that’s about to envelop her body.
It's a miracle he can form any kind of sentence right now, honestly. Jaskier continues to fuck Midge hard and fast, letting his brain get lost in the pleasure. There's no thinking anymore, just repeating Midge and fuck among moans over and over. The fabrics of their clothes add extra friction and feel fantastic on their sweating skin. He buries his face in her breasts, internally cursing himself for not having lowered her cleavage a little when he had the chance. It doesn't matter, the parts of her tits that are exposed are plenty for him to suck and nibble, hoping to leave a hickey.
Midge doesn’t have the brain right now to care if he’s leaving marks where other people might see them. He feels way too fucking good for her to ask him to stop. His cock, his hands and his mouth all work in tandem to bring her pleasure to its peak.
With her moans echoing off of the walls, Midge comes beneath him, her body trembling in ecstasy. A wave of satisfaction flows through her, a longing finally fulfilled after what felt like forever.
As soon as her orgasm begins, Jaskier lets go as well, thrusting hard one last time before coming inside her. The fact that he gets to fill her up is incredibly erotic and makes his orgasm infinitely better. His toes curl and his back arches as pure euphoria spreads through every inch of his body, their joined moans caressing his ears as a final extra touch.
Jaskier collapses on top of Midge when he's done, his mind floating on cloud nine while he catches his breath. It takes him a moment or two to return to reality, and he grins against her neck.
"Not moving," he teases as he reaches for her hand to squeeze it. "I like it here."
When he comes, she can feel his warmth inside of her. There’s something so intimate about that feeling that makes her want to always fuck without a condom. In the back of her mind, she knows she needs to broach the topic of diseases in a way that hopefully won’t offend him. Later.
Jaskier looks like he’s in absolute bliss and Midge loves being the one to put that look on his face. She leans her head back against one of the couch cushions and giggles. “I like having you here.” Her legs are still locked around his body and she kisses his temple as her free hand smooths back his hair.
He hums in delight when she smooths his hair - he always loves it when she pets him. And while his words had been teasing, he's truly enjoying just lying with her like this, her legs still around him and his cock still inside her. It's a different kind of cuddling: more intimate, but also messier, like proof of how good that orgasm was.
"Mmh, yeah, it was." He kisses her cheek before dropping his head on her shoulder again. "Maybe we should just go to sleep like this. With my arse exposed in the air and my leaking cock inside you. Obviously it's outstanding comfort." He's joking.
“Sleep?” She teases back. “After only one round? I don’t think so. We have so much to try tonight.” Midge blushes, pausing for a second. “You were going to show me… how you use your fingers on yourself…”
Maybe he won’t want to, but Jaskier doesn’t strike her as the type to be embarrassed by anything sexual. By all accounts, he’ll be eager to show her and she’ll be eager to watch.
He thinks she's about to say something crazy to continue the joke, but instead she makes a request. Jaskier raises his head to look down at her, surprise obvious in his expression - but it quickly changes into a grin. Midge is right, he's not embarrassed at all.
"My, my, it appears that my teasing became a prediction - you are quite daring tonight." Still grinning in a way that would make Cheshire proud, Jaskier finally pulls out, hissing at the sensitivity. But he's doing this for a reason: he wraps his arms around her and turns both their bodies on the sides so they can cuddle properly. "I'm so proud of you right now. I'm going to give you a show that you'll never forget."
Let's ignore the fact that their clothes are falling on the wet spots now.
She flushes even more at his comments and grin. Midge isn’t sure why she’s so embarrassed; maybe it’s because she’s never seen a man do anything like that before. She’s curious though, and Jaskier is happy to sate that curiosity.
After crawling into his arms, she gives him a tender kiss. “Just rest a moment. Then we can take all our clothes off and move to the bed where we’ll have more room.”
Midge lets out a contented sigh. “I missed this so much.”
"Worry not, that was indeed my plan." Now that he's gotten his orgasm, he isn't in a hurry. They can go back to the teasing and taking it slow to enjoy each other to the max. Besides, he does need to rest; his cock isn't magical (gods, he wishes).
He happily returns the kiss, and then kisses the top of her head when she lets out that cute little sigh. It perfectly matches what he feels, too: just relaxed and content.
"Mm-mmh. It was very frustrating not to be able to kiss you for every cute thing you said when you were at home." His hand rubs her back. "Didn't you get some alone time with your hands while I was away?"
He laughs as well - the fact that she blushes at his question proves how she still has lots of things to learn and get used to. She's adorable, though.
"You're so cute when you blush," he replies before kissing both her cheeks. "I asked because I love hearing how far you've come since I started to push you into exploring your sexuality more. But I admit-" He licks his lips on purpose. "I'd love to hear the details when my cock is ready to enjoy them."
"I didn't say you were. The feisty mouth of yours knew what to do with my cock." He winks. "But there still was a lot for you to experience. And I know I haven't seen the real Miriam yet. Not fully."
She's still worried about what her parents will think, he knows. But he's not about to mention themin the middle of the post-coital cuddling.
Her idea makes him grin. "Oh yes, that does sound perfect. You'll tell me how you touched yourself, and I'll try to follow."
Midge raises an eyebrow at him. “You've had your fingers up my cunt. What do you think I’m still hiding from you?” She thinks she’s been pretty real with him. How else is she supposed to be?
Idly, she strokes his chest. Laying here in the afterglow is almost as nice as the sex. Almost.
"I'm not saying you're keeping things from me, or that you're lying, or wearing a metaphorical mask, none of that crap," he explains while reaching for her hand, fondly rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "I think that you're still discovering yourself. I think that the divorce still hasn't fully sunk in. I think you still haven't fully embraced the freedom you've acquired."
That makes more sense. Midge nods. “I can see that. It’s all kinds of freedom though, not just sexual freedom.”
The type of relationship that she and Jaskier are having would have seemed impossible a year ago. Midge wouldn’t have thought she would be interested. She’s let go of the idea that sex needs to take place in a relationship with someone you love.
Although perhaps she ought not examine her budding feelings for Jaskier too closely.
"Yes, that's what I meant by 'the real Miriam' - all of you, not just sex. Sex simply inspired the observation." He picks her chin and makes her look up at him, smiling softly with clear affection in his eyes. "I want to see you shine as bright as the sun itself."
He doesn't see that question coming, and answering is harder than it looks. Jaskier bumps his nose against hers, playfully rubbing them together while thinking how to answer. If this was just flirting with an average one-night stand, he'd spew something about how special they are, but Midge deserves better than such a generic answer.
"You're kind," he finally decides on. "We've discussed this a little, but the fact that you continue to hold on to that kindness while swimming in the waters of the stage life is fucking important."
Jaskier isn't the kind to blush. He's fucking shameless. But tonight, for the first time, he blushes just a bit for Midge. "And I can't deny you remind me of myself."
“Thank you,” she replies. “I hope to always hold onto it, no matter where my career takes me.”
His second reason surprises her though. So does the blush. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen him blush. Midge furrows her brow and looks at him curiously. “How so?”
Hitting all the hard questions tonight, isn't she? He rests his forehead against hers.
"You were born into a family that expected you to play a pre-shaped role, and a society that tried to shackled you to it." Like he was. "It prides me to see you break those shackles." Like he's always tried to do. "I don't wish betrayal and pain from a loved one on anyone. But it terrifies me to think what would've happened to the real Miriam if Joel had never cheated." The same way he's afraid of what would've happened to his life if he hadn't met Geralt.
She reaches up to stroke her fingers through his hair, knowing how much it soothes him.
“I understand what you mean,” Midge replies, “but I wasn’t unhappy with Joel. I think I would have found ways to be content as a housewife and mother.”
It does soothe him - Jaskier closes his eyes and hums like a happy pet getting his ears scratched.
"I understand what you mean, too. But in my experience? You would've resented it in the long run." A sigh. It's not a nice thing to say, but they're having a serious conversation, so he isn't about to sugar-coat it. "Just a few days ago, you shared your frustration about your parents being too nosy. Remember that feeling clawing at your chest. Now picture it growing bigger and hotter without no outlet for years."
As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, he’s right. Midge sighs. Sometimes she wonders if she should swear off marriage completely, but she also wants someone to love, someone who will be faithful to her.
"Is that so bad?" he asks with clear curiosity. "I mean, I do kind of know what you mean - I remember being disappointed to discover that knights, princesses, adventures, and mighty quests weren't what the popular tales said. But if you ask me now..." He shrugs, but he's also smiling. "I would rather eat squirrels and sleep in stables with Geralt again than go back to my old life."
She looks at him, thinking. “I like what I’m doing, my comedy. I still have my kids and my family. Sometimes I worry that I’ll have no one to share it with. No… romantic partner.”
“I don’t mean anything by that,” Midge adds quickly. “I’m just saying… in general.”
She didn’t want him to think that comment was aimed at him, trying to make him feel bad or anything like that.
"I know what you mean, don't worry." He kisses her forehead to reassure her. For a second he wonders if the subject of the wedding will come out, but thankfully, it doesn't, and he can stay relaxed.
"Your love life isn't over just because of the divorce, darling. You'll find someone sooner or later; you must give it time. You're young! Forget about what they've taught you, you aren't obliged to find the love of your life at twenty-two. Do you have any idea of the huge number of people you'll meet on your tours?" His tone becomes teasing. "Before you know it, you'll have to choose between that humble, cute shepherd from the farm and the handsome, headstrong businessman from the city."
And when she does, he'll be happy for her and he'll sing at her wedding. Because that's what she deserves - a man who can provide the married life she still wants.
Midge won’t push him about the wedding, at least not yet. As it gets closer, she’ll need an answer, but she understands that it’s a big ask.
She chuckles softly at his description of the two men she’d be torn between. What if who she wants is a handsome, sassy bard? It worries her, but not enough to stop what they’re doing.
“And you’re going to do this forever?” Midge asks. “You never want to settle down?”
"That's a funny question, because I keep feeling that's where this world is pushing me," he explains with a big sigh. He rests his head back on the cushions and stares at the ceiling, a bit lost in thought. "I miss traveling. Staying so many months in the same house with a family - it's almost become domestic. If I have to go out to promote their work or mine, I have to do it on schedule." His nose wrinkles with obvious distate.
"I like not knowing what will happen next. I like not knowing what the next kiss will taste like. I like not knowing what kind of song I will dance to in the next club." He drags a hand down his face. "I used to like seeing my career develop a step at a time. But here, it makes me feel like it's in a limbo."
“You find the unknown exciting, not anxiety-producing?” It’s a genuine question. “A lot of people settle into routines because they’re easier. Sometimes routines can get boring, but they can help ground a person as well.”
Midge continues stroking his soft hair. She knows that the progress of his career here has been frustrating for him. Many people work for years and get nowhere.
“Even if I’m technically in the entertainment industry, I don’t think I’m the best person to give out advice about it.”
"Of course! How can it NOT be exciting? There's so much to see in the world! Beauty waiting around every corner!" The passion in his voice is mixed with frustration. "I understand needing an anchor. I returned to Oxenfurt every winter, after all. Mayhaps routines wouldn't be so bad if people didn't apply them to their free time as well. They take it too far. They abandon all sense of curiosity and discovery. It's depressing."
His expression softens and he cups her cheek to kiss her sweetly. "I wasn't expecting you to. Sorry for souring the mood. My plan was to have a naughty night with more orgasms and less thinking, not to have an existential crisis."
“It’s nice to be able to see the world with someone else though, isn’t it?” She turns her gaze up to the ceiling. “Eventually, the party ends and you just want someone to come home to.”
“You haven’t soured the mood at all. We always end up talking about stuff like this between orgasms.”
Midge likes talking with him as much as she enjoys the orgasms. Almost as much.
"Of course. That's why I traveled for two decades with Geralt. I used to go home to Oxenfurt, to my peers. Now I come home to my family."
He's definitely not the loner type - he needs people and hates loneliness. But he's fine with getting his orgasms at one place and his emotional affection at home.
Her question makes him grin, and after quickly pecking her lips, he jumps off the couch. Turning around, he shakes off his hips, letting his pants and underwear fall off to present her arse to her. After toeing his socks off, he takes off his tie and throws it at her.
The buttons of his shirt are undone very slowly, and he leaves it on just as part of the tease. Then he goes to the door to pick up his satchel and lute, making sure to fully bend his body over to leave his perky arse up in the air, shaking it a bit before coming back.
Jaskier puts down his things on the reading chair and searches his satchel for a small jar of vaseline, which has clearly been used before. He lightly dips a finger in it and boops Midge's nose, leaving a creamy dot.
She grins as she watches his little striptease. His butt is very cute. Midge can’t deny that. As he slowly unbuttons his shirt, Midge reaches behind her to unzip her dress. As he goes to his satchel, she pulls her dress up over her head, leaving her in a bra. It’s a nice bra, one that matches the panties on the floor, but it’s not particularly fancy or sexy.
Midge scrunches her nose when she’s booped, then reaches up to wipe the Vaseline off. “I guess your cock is ready,” she says. “Where do you want to put on this show for me, my darling?”
After winking, he grabs the back of Midge's head and captures her mouth in a long, deep kiss that gets his body tingling again. When he breaks it, he doesn't go too far - he rests his forehead against Midge's with a glint in his eyes.
"That depends on how much you want to see," he explains in a husky voice. "Do you want me to lie down or get on my fours, have a full view of my arse getting pounded? Then we shall go to bed. Or..." He climbs on the couch then, putting a knee on each side of her legs and letting his cock brush her wonderful tits. "Do you want me right here on your lap so you can see my getting fucked face up close?"
Midge returns the kiss, opening her mouth against his as he fingers stroke down over his bare chest.
“I’m thinking… you on your back on the bed with your legs spread, me on my stomach with my head between your legs so that I can watch your fingers move and stroke your cock at the same time.” He might even get her mouth, if he’s a good boy. “Does that work?”
He gasps as the mental image starts sending his blood south.
"Fuck yes," he replies before taking her hand so he can drag her to the bedroom. On the way, he embraces her from behind and drops kisses on her neck, his hands making sure to squeeze her breasts before removing the bra.
In the bedroom, he takes off his shirt and puts it on her shoulders before crawling onto the bed. He does so slowly, shaking his arse a little more before lying down. Jaskier never stops looking at her as he opens his legs wide in a silent invitation.
"It's easier and more enjoyable when I'm aroused," he explains as he takes some vaseline and starts by stroking his cock, prompting it to wake up. "So maybe you can share some inspiration by telling me about your adventures with your hand while I was away."
Watching Jaskier lay down on the bed and spread his legs wide for her is so erotic. Midge can feel her pulse start to race. She joins him on the bed, lying between his legs on her stomach and watching as his hand moves up and down his cock.
“Now that you’ve showed me that spot inside me, I always try to touch it whenever I touch myself. I have to spread my legs wide and arch my back and push my fingers deep inside to get to it.”
Jaskier licks his lips as he watches her get comfortable between his legs, and the sight is enough to help him get fully hard. Gods, it's so hard not to reach for her and ask her to just ride him.
When she starts talking, Jaskier gets some more vaseline on his fingers and reaches down to start massaging his entrance. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, as if following her 'instructions' - which is also why he arches his back, giving her a full display of two fingers going in as Jaskier's moan echoes in the room. Sadly, he can't keep this position for long, but he does make sure to keep his arse up for a few seconds so she can see him open and stretched before his body falls back on the mattress.
"Yesss..." he hisses under his breath as his fingers start massaging his walls. His eyes are stuck on Midge. "You're a quick learner - I'm proud of you. Tell me more. How many fingers did you use? How fast did you thrust?"
She watches in fascination as Jaskier pushes two of his fingers into his ass. Midge has never seen anything like this, and watching it makes her body flush with heat. Reaching out, she wraps her fingers around his cock, ready to take over the stroking.
“Just two. That’s the easiest and feels the best. I don’t thrust hard. I like to go slowly and stroke that spot with one hand while I rub my clit with the other. I like to work myself up.
Jaskier gasps when Midge wraps her hand around his cock, not expecting it - but definitely not complaining either. "Fuck, Miriam..." He wonders if she can tell how easier it is to stroke his cock when it's covered in vaseline and if it does anything to her, but he doesn't want to interrupt her.
His fingers start thrusting slowly, working himself up just like she describes. His whole body feels hot, and his moans get louder when he realizes that looking at Midge between his legs means he can pretend she's the one fingering him. He wonders if she'd do it for him one day.
The mention of his spot makes him chuckle. "Already? What happened to working myself up?" He's teasing. Suddenly, his fingers come out, which makes him groan in both pleasure and frustration. "My lady will have to forgive me for breaking one of her instructions," he says while getting more vaseline. "But I like feeling full."
This time, three fingers go right in, and Jaskier's whole body arches, heels digging into the mattress. He then starts thrusting, and he still keeps it slow to match her story, but he does look for that spot like she asked. The loud fuck that escapes his lip and the way his cock throbs in her hand should be proof of it.
“Whatever you want, my darling.” Midge’s eyes are absolutely riveted to him as she slowly strokes his cock, made well-lubricated by the Vaseline. His ass opens up so easily for his fingers. She gasps when he cries out and his cock throbs.
“Did you find it? You should play with it… tease it.”
Leaning forward, Midge licks a stripe up Jaskier’s cock. Unfortunately, Vaseline doesn’t taste great, so he won’t be getting all of her mouth this time.
“Watching you do this is making me so wet, Jaskier. My cunt is soaked for you. Will you be a good boy and lap it up when you’re done?”
What started as just sharing her experience has become Midge taking full control of the situation, and Jaskier loves every second of it.
(He's so proud, too!)
(And she called him darling. His heart definitely skips a beat at that.)
He nods at her question as he inserts his fingers as deeply as possible, leaving them just to continue to tease his magical spot, his whole body shivering and sweating more by the second. Her wonderful tongue transforms his moans into the neediest of whimpers - that whimper only gets worse when she calls him a good boy.
The fact that she gets turned on by him fingering himself is incredibly erotic, greatly intensified by how she continues to direct the scene, talking about herself so naughtily and without shame (he really needs to tell her how proud he is later).
His fingers pause as he gets an idea, but he needs to catch his breath before speaking. "We don't have to wait," he says with a grin. "You can ride my face, or lie on top of me with your head between my legs. It would still give you a good view. Unless you want to look at my orgasming face, too. Then you can stay there and mayhaps grab my wrist to direct my thrusting." A wink. "My lady is in charge. The choice is yours."
It’s clear to Midge that he’s enjoying this, and not only because of what he’s doing to himself. Her words and actions are adding to it, and that only turns her on more.
Jaskier’s suggestion is too good to pass up on. She releases his cock and turns herself around on the bed, hoping that she doesn’t look like an idiot doing this. After getting up on all fours, Midge slowly backs up until Jaskier’s face is between her legs. She has to arch her back a little and lean down on the bed, but she’s able to position her cunt at his mouth.
“What a naughty suggestion, my sweet bard. Can you see how I’m dripping for you?”
Midge rests her head on one of Jaskier’s thighs, then grips his cock again, her strokes firmer this time.
An idiot? Far from it. The view is absolutely amazing and Jaskier mumbles fuck yes before licking his lips in anticipation.
"Absolute drenched," he manages to say between moans. He's getting overwhelmed with sensations, after all: her hand on his cock, his own fingers up his arse, and now her cunt on his face. He can even smell her arousal, which helps him feel consumed by her. "Always so good and eager for me."
Jaskier buries his face in Midge's cunt, licking between her folds with gusto as his free arm wraps around one of her thighs to keep her in place. He savors the amazing taste of her fluids, making sure to clean them all before inserting his tongue into her entrance. That's when his fingers start thrusting again, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it thrusts too. Jaskier moans against her, sending vibrations right into her cunt.
He makes her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world with the way that he reacts to her. Midge settles in, spreading her knees and digging into the mattress.
“Always,” she confirms. “And you always lick me up like the good boy that you are.” He’d seemed to really like it when she called him that earlier. She gets off on being called a good girl too.
Midge squeals when he grabs her to him and starts to lap at her cunt, rocking her hips gently back against his face.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re so good at that. You pamper me so well. When I was alone, I kept teasing myself, bringing myself almost to orgasm but then waiting, wanting it to be so good.”
She releases his cock and lets her thumb tease the head, her fingers brushing against his now throbbing shaft.
His hips thrust into her hand when she calls him a good boy - yep, definitely likes it. She doesn't stop there, though, oh no - she keeps praising him, stimulating his mind the same way she's overwhelming all his senses.
His movements start getting a bit clumsy as he begins to lose control, every word leaving her lips plus the combination of her fingers and his on his sensitive areas driving him absolutely crazy. His hand picks up speed as he fucks himself harder, and with his face covered by her cunt it's even easier to pretend those are her fingers.
She edged herself, he realizes, like he did for her last time. Then waiting, huh? He wants to follow her game, he really does, but it's just too much. Especially when Midge teases his head and says she pretended it was him - that's enough to send him over the edge.
Jaskier feels his walls tightening around his fingers as he comes all over her hand, with a few drops probably falling on her face too. It's one hell of an intensive orgasm and his whole body arches once more, perfect ecstasy hitting every single nerve of his body. He makes sure to keep stroking his spot, making the orgasm last as long as possible. His moan echoes in the room first, but his arm moves from her thigh to her waist - he wants to keep her cunt on his face so she can feel every second of it.
Midge has never seen a man come like this before. Jaskier explodes all over his stomach and her hand as she feels his body stiffen beneath her. His moans against her sensitive folds send shock waves of pleasure through her body.
She wipes most of the cum on her hand on his stomach before wiping at her face. She licks the remnants off of her hand.
“Wonderful, my darling. You came so much. Is it my turn?” Midge whimpers, her hips insistent against his face. “I’ve been such a good girl, haven’t I?”
His mind is still floaty and the body of a beautiful woman is on top of him. He could die right here pretty damn happily, honestly.
Her voice brings her back to reality, and he can't help but chuckle at the way her hips are asking for more. Always so eager for him - an observation he makes all the fucking time, but can you blame him? He just loves it so much.
"Oh yes," he replies as the arm around her waist brings her as close as possible to his face. The smell of her arousal is intoxicating. "You've been such a good girl for me, Midge." She's so wet that it's easy for him to insert two fingers into her cunt, curling them to find that spot on her. "Do you know how amazing it is when you're in charge? I love seeing you take control of your sexuality. There's something so fucking erotic about a woman telling me what she wants, what to do. I want you to command me like you command the stage."
His fingers then start thrusting. "Feel free to sit up if you wish, darling." And with that his mouth closes around her clit, sucking on it like a starving man while his fingers continue to thrust.
Midge cries out when he starts to fuck her with his fingers, her hands gripping tightly at the bedsheets, her moans turning into a squeal when he finds that spot. He’s so much better at touching it than she is.
“Yes… please don’t stop.” Her thighs tremble and she doesn’t think she can sit up. Staying just like this is absolutely perfect. Her pleasure grows exponentially until she can feel herself just on the edge of orgasm.
"Be a good girl and come for me," he talks right against her thigh, and drops a kiss there before his mouth gets back to work. His tongue continues to play with her clit and his fingers do one hard thrust before staying inside, calloused tips rubbing and pressing her spot.
Even when she reaches ecstasy, he never stops moving, riding her through it to make it last and because he loves tasting her orgasm with all his senses.
He doesn’t edge or tease her, and Midge is grateful for that this time. She loves it when he calls her a good girl and there’s nothing more that she wants to do than come for him.
With a loud moan, the orgasm slams into her like a tidal wave. The walls of her cunt spasm around his fingers as her whole body succumbs to ecstasy. It’s over too soon and she collapses on top of him, her head still on his thigh as she tries to catch her breath.
Jaskier could hear her coming all day long - just make a song out of it, play it while he's composing. He licks her folds to collect every drop of her orgasm and doesn't stop until she collapses. Then his hands gently rub her legs, and he even drops a kiss on her ankle.
She pants softly for just a moment, then huffs a laugh at his comment. “I did, and it’s pretty obvious that you did too.”
Carefully, she pushes herself back up on her hands and knees so that she can turn around. Midge gives him a long, sensual kiss before laying her head on his shoulder. Her fingers stroke his chest, playing with his necklace.
“Something about enjoying seeing me take control of my sexuality?”
Jaskier laughs back. "Of course I did! I am a free bird, but there's one cage I'm willing to accept, and that's having all my senses enveloped by a beautiful, witty woman."
He waits patiently while she moves and meets her kiss with a big smile. His arms don't hesitate to wrap around her, bringing her close for the mandatory cuddle. His nose buries in her hair to nuzzle it, and he chuckles at her comment.
"Oh yes, you were fantastic, darling. Taking control, getting what you want, having your man caught under your metaphorical heels. I'm so proud of you, darling. And turned on, but proud sounds deeper."
She actually blushes a little at his praise. Out of the moment, she’s less confident.
“I’m glad you liked it. I didn’t see it so much as being in charge. It felt more like giving you instructions.” Midge gives him another kiss. “I didn’t know how I’d feel watching you do that, but it was… really arousing. You liked it when I called you a good boy, didn’t you?”
"Call me crazy if you must, but I believe that a person giving instructions is usually in charge."
He's happy to kiss her again, and when he notices that she's blushing, he kisses her cheek too. How can she be so sexy one second, and the cutest thing the next? "I'm glad you like it too. It's uncommon for women to interact with that side of me. They see it as less manly." He chuckles. "And you liked it when I called you a good girl. We're nothing but stage hoggers hungry for approval."
“It’s true,” she admits. “I love it when you call me that… when you praise me.” It’s still a little strange for her to admit that out loud, but Midge is getting very used to discussing her turn ons with Jaskier. There’s never any judgement from him whatsoever, and that makes her feel safe.
“I could tell that it felt good and ultimately that’s what this is about. I want to make you feel good.”
Her kiss is sweet this time, with a lot of emotion behind it. Having these sort of intimate moments only make her budding feelings for him swell.
"Another thing we have in common, then." He kisses her nose with a grin. "Happy to hear you confirm that. It means I can shower you with poetry describing how pretty you are."
And boy, does he have a lot of that. He's been with many lovers who enjoyed compliments in the form of poetry, but they often got tired of it after a while.
Her comment makes his heart swell, and Jaskier can't stop looking at her with adoration in his eyes. That's indeed what sex is about - making the other person feel good, and finding your own pleasure in that act. ...well, there's also feelings, and the fact that his crush is shaking with glee thanks to her words and this amazing kiss, but he is not supposed to be thinking about that tonight. That's what he tells himself, but he returns the kiss with as much emotion anyway.
He rests his forehead against hers when they pull apart. "You're right, that's what this is about. I love making you feel good, too. So never hesitate to ask me for things to try. Because that just now? Absolutely marvellous."
“I would love that,” she says with a sigh. “Even if I get embarrassed and tell you to stop… you shouldn’t.” His poetry is lovely, and she’d have to be a fool to tell him stop writing verses about her.
Midge grins and rubs her nose against his. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something before the night is over. You bring out my creative side, Jaskier.” Reaching down, she grabs at his ass. “You have a very cute butt. Watching your fingers go inside was so erotic.”
"Your wish is my command," he says with a grin before reciting. "Her laughter, a symphony of delight, / Echoes in dreams, igniting the night. / Her touch, a whisper, gentle and kind, / Leaves a lasting imprint on my mind."
That compliment takes him by surprise, and he beams. "Inspiring an artist's creativity is an incredible honor." He gasps when she grabs her ass, not expecting it either - again, she's being very daring tonight, and he loves it. The comment makes him laugh. "That's what years of walking get you." A wink. "Having you between my legs was amazing because I was pretending they were your fingers down there. Which is on the table if you ever want to try."
Midge smiles lovingly at him. “It’s amazing how you can come up with that so quickly.” Maybe he wrote it earlier and memorized it, but still. She’s terrible at poetry.
“I meant creativity in the bedroom, but now that I think about it, you’ve inspired my comedy as well.” She’s added in some jokes about the guy she’s ‘seeing’ and the sex they have. The blush returns to her cheeks when he suggests that she could finger him. “I’m not saying no…” she tells him, “because I like making you feel good. But maybe we can work up to that.”
Gosh, she has such a beautiful smile. Jaskier can't stop himself from kissing the corner of her mouth, as if trying to taste the sunshine in that smile. "I actually wrote that one when I was in the backyard composing the other day. Remember? When you texted me for 'guidance'?" He waggles his eyebrows.
"Even if you'd meant only sexual creativity, I would've still been honored. I did notice certain new jokes in your act tonight, though. It almost made me hate the anonymity; you're doing wonders for my reputation." He smiles softly at her response, still finding her blushing adorable. "That's perfectly fine. We have all the time in the world."
"Imagining little Midge trying to rhyme is the most adorable image." It's a tease, but he also means it. "Surely you did well in other areas of your Literature classes? You have a way with words, it just happens to be different from mine."
Cuddling is indeed great, and Jaskier's hand draws random shapes on her back while enjoying the closeness. Her being so petite makes her the perfect fit against his body.
That question makes him laugh pretty hard. "I wouldn't mind that at all." How could he? He loves attention. "Just make sure it doesn't trigger a series of events that ends with your father stabbing me."
“I did,” she replies. “I liked literature so much that I studied Russian Literature.” Midge shrugs. “It seemed interesting and I needed to pick a major.” She went to college to meet a husband.
A snort of laughter is given at that response. “He won’t stab you. As much as I’m sure you’d like the free promotion, I don’t name names onstage. It’s easier for listeners to imagine themselves in the position if there’s no name attached.”
People come to her shows for escapism, but they also have to be able to relate to her.
"Oh, speaking of Literature, that reminds me. I started 'Frankenstein' from your list. It's been wonderful." He closes his eyes as he concentrates to quote- "The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine."
He nods along at the explanation - it does make lots of sense, but he can't help wondering if that decision was also influenced by having to keep face with her family and social circle. "So you want your crowd to imagine themselves giving you those amazing orgasms? I see how it is." His tone is teasing. "Your father would totally stab me. Or cut my cock off at the very least."
“I’m glad you like it. It’s the first horror novel written by a woman.”
She laughs again. “No, I want to imagine that they’re getting the orgasms. Living vicariously through me, though honestly I’m not sure if they want my life.”
Midge takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Papa wouldn’t do either of those things. People aren’t like that here. If he cut off your cock, he’d go to prison. And I’d be really pissed.”
"Really?" His eyes widen. "That makes it even more special." He's glad to get to know something so important in art history.
What she says leaves him thinking for a moment. He squeezes her hand and rubs her knuckles with his thumb while deciding how to respond to that.
"...maybe your papa is not. I do admit I was going for a bit of hyperbole, although I do think he wouldn't like me very much." Thankfully, it doesn't matter, since they aren't in a relationship. Right? "But even if my world was worse, please do remember - people can be like that here. It's why Elftown and Rainbow Road exist. They're safe spaces."
Jaskier wants to explain that this isn't about murderers, it's about hate seen as the natural order. But then she brings up the Jewish thing, and it's his turn to sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
Right there, in the corner of the room, an elephant called Family Wedding stares at them.
"Of fucking course."
He doesn't say more. He should, because the silence is getting awkward. And Jaskier hates silence. Usually, he's a pro at filling them, but he still remembers their first lunch together, how she said that the only thing she asked for was respect. And honestly? Right now, he can't think of a single honest thing to say that won't start a fire. If the tension of the Wedding™ wasn't hanging between them, maybe he could've sailed through this more easily - it's like he survived court for years, after all. But he doesn't want his relationship with a beloved friend (a crush) to be like that.
"I'm getting hungry," he suddenly announces as he sits up, using the sheets to clean off the cum on his stomach. "We did let our genitals decide over our stomachs when we left the club, huh?" He's trying to joke, but he's obviously tense. "Something I love about this world is this whole take-out deal. Do you think there are flyers in the kitchen?"
Midge doesn’t want to start a fight with him, but she doesn’t want to sweep this under the rug either.
“My parents would have no problem with us being friends, but I think they’ll be perceptive enough to know it’s more than that.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I choose who I want to sleep with. It’s not… this isn’t a relationship. It’s not as if we’re getting married.”
She stares at the bedsheets in silence for a moment. “They would like you if they knew you, Jaskier. If they saw how happy I am around you,” Midge continues quietly. “Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter to me.”
Ah, it seems they're talking about this. Which is quite ironic of Jaskier to think, considering he's usually the one scolding Geralt for not wanting to talk about stuff.
Hearing her say how happy I am around you makes his heart skip a beat, the big traitor. Jaskier tries to concentrate on the other sentence before he does something stupid out of affection. She's right, they aren't in a relationship, so it shouldn't matter. And if this conversation had come up before her invitation, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but it doesn't hit the same when the elephant keeps staring at them.
He also notices that she thinks he's upset about her parents liking him, when what bothers him is the why. But like he already thought, there's no bringing up that topic without starting a fire.
Religion or wedding? Are those two truly his only choices?
Fuck.
"You think they'll be perceptive enough to tell, yet you still want me to be your plus one?"
“I don’t think we’ll be able to hide our affection for each other,” Midge says plainly. “Unless you want to pretend that you aren’t fond of me. We don’t have to be in a relationship for you to come to the wedding with me. I just…”
She gives a shuddering sigh, tears forming in her eyes.
“I don’t want to be the pathetic divorcee, not at this wedding of all weddings. Leah’s family has more money than ours and she never lets us forget it. I don’t want to go alone. I thought that maybe since it’s out in the Hamptons we could go to the beach the day before. We’d be in a hotel. We could sneak into each other’s rooms. You could charm everyone there. We could say we’ve been seeing each other, which isn’t technically a lie. I wouldn’t introduce you as my boyfriend.”
Midge pulls a tissue from the box on the bedside table and dabs at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to guilt you into it and I know it’s a big ask. You don’t have to answer me about it yet.”
Fuck, are they really that obvious? He supposes that with her being a close friend and not just a fuck buddy, the message does get muddled a little. The idea of him pretending he isn't fond of her makes his eyes widen and he finally turns around to look at her, clearly offended by the mere idea.
"I would never--" He freezes when he sees crying. "Fuck."
He doesn't stop to think, he just moves - he wraps a sheet around her body before dragging her onto his lap, hugging her tightly and rubbing her back as he rocks her. Everything she says does make sense, and his first instinct is to want to protect her from that awful fucking life, because he got to escape it, but she didn't.
Mainly, however, he feels like shit for making her cry. He's about to say that yes, he'll go with her, just to see her smile again. But when he's about to talk, she adds the guilting him line and Jaskier sighs. Any answer that gives right now will be 'tarnished' by this conversation, and he doesn't want her to think he's doing it out of pity - although that first thought was an emotional reaction, so she wouldn't be too wrong.
And isn't the fact that they're both having such emotional reactions in the first place another thing he needs to consider? This will be another week of thinking, won't it? Geralt will be reminding him to end it again, but how can he do that when she needs him so much? (Which is even more ironic, because that need may be pushing the boundaries they decided on.)
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, darling. Please don't feel bad, this is all on me." Well, this bit is. He does wonder if she can keep on handling their agreement, but he doesn't mention it - he tells himself it's not the time, but in reality, it's because he's afraid of the answer. "There's nothing wrong with your invitation, and I've never felt pressured by your questions. I promise. I was just--" Being a fucking bitch, like he's already warned her. "--trying to avoid the subject of religion. Somehow I made it worse. But it isn't your fault, I swear. I'm sorry I made you cry." He kisses the top of her head. "I'll have an answer by the end of next week, does that work?"
Usually, he doesn't like putting deadlines on feelings, but it'll force him to consider things seriously instead of ignoring the subject more.
There’s a little bit of relief when he scoops her up in his arms, as Midge thought he would get angry and accuse her of crying in order to guilt him into saying yes. It’s what Joel would do. She rests her head on Jaskier’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be a Jewish wedding, so that will be part of it too,” she says. “They might want you to wear a yarmulke at the temple, which is a sort of hat, but I can probably get you out of that. Nothing will be expected of you, I promise.” Picking her head up to look into his eyes, Midge brushes her fingers through his hair. “The end of next week is fine.”
Things aren’t just casual between them, whether Jaskier wants to admit it to himself or not. Both of them feel strongly about each other. They talk all the time. They go to each other’s gigs. The sex is incredible. It’s not a relationship, because they don’t want it to be, but it’s more than friends with benefits.
Midge is glad to have more, but she doesn’t know if Jaskier feels the same way.
Other lovers definitely pulled that trick on him in the past, but he can tell Midge is genuine about this. Jaskier doesn't want to poke at this subject anymore, terrified of making it even worse, but after he made her cry? She deserves the truth.
"I didn't mean the wedding. I can sit through a ceremony, that's not a big deal. I meant your parents not approving of me because of religious reasons. I tried to dance around that, but ended up tripping right into the wedding anyway." He kisses her wrist when her hand comes close to his face. "Although I suppose they're connected. It's fine if your parents don't like me - they aren't the first, they won't be the last. But it's not the same thing thinking about that in an abstract way, than having to consider it to make my choice. It adds... extra weight, if you know what I mean."
She nods. “Perhaps if you do decide to come you ought to meet them ahead of time. Then the weekend won’t be so awkward. They want to meet you, of course. The man who gave me enchanted flowers, who I made soup for, who I ran off to in the early hours of the morning.”
Midge kisses him softly.
“We don’t have to define what we are to them or to anyone. We’re friends who enjoy each other’s company and make each other happy. That’s it.”
Any pushing by her parents won’t be done in Jaskier’s presence, and she can handle them. She just wants his presence and his support at fucking Leah’s fucking wedding.
That list of actions makes his stomach turn. When she puts it like that, it's impossible for him to blame her for getting emotional over any muddled messages. How did they even get to this point? They've let the river of passion just push them with its currents without a lifejacket.
"...I'll keep that in mind." It's an honest answer. Meeting them in private means he can't lose them by mingling at a party, but Midge has a point: it would get every needed conversation out of the way. It wouldn't ruin the wedding.
It's hard to think when she's kissing him.
"You are a beloved friend of mine, Miriam Maisel. I hope you know that." He agrees they don't have to define this, but he wants her to know she can count on him, regardless of the wedding issue. "Even if tomorrow you choose to get married to that humble, cute shepherd from the farm, I'll still enjoy your platonic company."
A smile crosses her face and she feels relief, finally.
She gives a soft laugh. “Where on Earth would I ever meet someone like that?” She asks.
In her heart, Midge knows that Jaskier is the only person she wants to be with right now. No shepherds or big city businessmen are going to change that for her, at least not any time soon.
“Are you really hungry? You want to order some take out?”
Oh, thank the gods. It kills him to see her sad. He should answer the question, but he can't help himself and--
"You have such a pretty smile," he says before capturing her mouth in a kiss. It's a sweet one, just trying to be there for her.
"...actually, I could do with some food right now. We did left the club in a hurry. And we need to regain energy."
He winks before gently putting her down to leave the bed. Without warning or asking for permission, he opens the closet and finds two robes. Grinning, he throws one at Midge.
"We can wash them with the sheets in the morning. Your friends don't need to know."
Complimenting her smile only makes her smile grow. She accepts his sweet kiss, just as she would accept all of his kisses.
Wearing the robes is probably fine. Midge picks up the one that Jaskier tosses on the bed.
“They’re monogrammed,” she says, showing him where the name ‘Irv’ is stitched over the left breast. “That one’s probably going to be small on you.” He’s got Muriel’s.
"Oh, is it?" He puts it on anyway. The sleeves are short, and his hairy legs are very exposed. "Is this what wearing a short skirt is like? I must say, I like feeling the breeze down there."
Jaskier puts his hands on his hips and turns around rather coquettishly, looking over his shoulder to wink at Midge. "Mrs Maisel, the boytoy you ordered is available now."
Why is she not surprised that he wears it anyway. “I usually wear panties with my short skirts,” Midge replies, slipping Irving’s robe over her shoulders.
She cracks up when he turns around and winks at her. If he bent over, his whole ass would be exposed. “They got my order exactly right,” Midge says as she stands up. She playfully grabs his ass, then closes and belts the large robe. “Come on, Muriel.”
Jaskier laughs when she grabs his ass, loving how much more comfortable she is with it now. He wonders what else they'll end up doing as their sexual exploration progresses.
The name makes him wrinkle his nose. "Ugh, don't make me regret putting it on."
He follows her to the kitchen, where they're lucky to find a few take-out flyers. They're short and to the point, so there's a lot that Jaskier doesn't get. "Please tell me at least one of these has good wine."
“Maybe if we order Italian…” Midge muses, picking up one of the flyers. “I was thinking Chinese, but they’re not exactly known for their wines.” There are several flyers for Chinese restaurants.
Jaskier lets Midge make the order since she understands the options better than he does. While he waits, he takes a look around the kitchen. There are many gadgets he doesn't recognize, and a few that his family has already bought. It seems they still have much to learn. The fridge is empty and unplugged, which makes sense if the apartment is empty most of the time.
When he peeks into a drawer, he chuckles and speaks up when Midge hangs up. "I must say, it's a bit worrying that housewives have as many knives as Geralt."
“It should be worrying, shouldn’t it?” Midge says, taking out a large butcher knife and holding it up. “Women are left alone all day to cook and clean with nobody to talk to but toddlers and then they give us knives like these. I’m kind of surprised that more men haven’t been stabbed.”
After putting the knife down, Midge looks in the cabinet and finds two wine glasses. She sets them on the small table in the kitchen.
“Do you have any cash, by the way? I might need some extra to tip the delivery boy.”
She's saying something important, something he agrees with. He has to listen. But looking at her like that, he can't help but lick his lips. "For the record, you look amazing with a weapon in your hand." Maybe she could get a bit of stabbing an asshole. As a treat.
Jaskier nods at her question and goes back to the living room to get his satchel. He also uses the chance to pick up their clothes and leave them on the reading chair. Wallet in hand, he decides to look around the apartment while waiting for the food, since last time they were too focused on the fucking to notice anything else.
When he enters the studio, Midge will hear him gasp and curse.
"Motherfucker-- MIDGE! Why didn't you tell me about this?!"
The sound that follows is keys being pressed. Someone has found a piano.
“Thanks,” she says, brandishing the knife like it’s a new piece of jewelry. “I think it brings out the color of my eyes.”
While Jaskier goes in search of his wallet, Midge finishes setting the table, putting out plates, napkins and some silverware just in case. She finds a corkscrew in a drawer and puts that on the table too. Then Jaskier is hollering for her and she hears the plink of a piano.
“I didn’t know it was here,” Midge says as she enters the room. “I’ve never actually been in this room.”
They’ve been a bit distracted both times they’ve come here.
Jaskier is already sitting at the piano, eyes closed as he plays with the keys. After trying one by one, he plays a very basic children's tune, ending it with a sigh. It's the only thing he can do for now, and only thanks to an elf who taught him.
He opens his eyes as he turns to look at Midge, and a grin appears. "I'm so fucking you on top of this."
“Hopefully with the lid closed or the neighbors will probably call the cops.” She can’t imagine the kind of racket that fucking on top of piano keys would make.
“Scootch over,” Midge says, sliding Jaskier down on the piano bench. “Let’s see if I can remember anything that Papa taught me.”
After a few false starts, Midge bangs out a pretty decent rendition of Heart and Soul.
He laughs at her joke as he scootches over. "The way you moan for me, they may do so anyway." They can get pretty loud, can't they?
"Your father plays?" Goddammit, he isn't supposed to like the guy. "Wait, does that mean you have--"
Jaskier immediately closes his mouth, eyes widening when she starts to play. Oh, this is lovely. With a big smile on his face, he rests his chin on her shoulder and puts an arm around her waist. Blue eyes follow the movement of her fingers, trying to memorize them.
"That was delightful. I hate you," he says in a teasing tone. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me."
“He might be willing to give you lessons.” Maybe. Her father’s method of teaching is what made Midge stop her piano lessons, but she also wasn’t really interested in learning. Abe seemed to prefer teaching Noah anyway, and he was far more diligent at practicing.
Midge picks out another simple tune. “I don’t know how to play!” She protests. “That was the most complicated thing that I know.”
Jaskier winces at the idea. "I'm not sure if you want to torture me or him."
He watches her fingers move again - he's always liked them, but now they're even more sexy. "I suppose it's not good for your nails, huh?" He kisses her cheek. "Stay right here, keep that going."
After a quick run to the living room, Jaskier comes back with his lute. He sits next to her again, but with his legs on the other side of the stool, not wanting the piano keys to get in the way. He plucks a few strings until he finds her rhythm and easily matches her so they can play together. It's far from a perfect harmony, of course, but he loves it all the same. It makes his heart burst with happiness to share this with her.
The tune kinda matches his song My Story, so he sings a bit of it with a slower rhythm to kind of make it fit. "♫ The doubters and the haters tried to make my tale about them / I invested in erasers and took care of the problem ♫"
Midge has never considered herself a musician. She can’t carry a tune in a bucket, and her dancing leaves a lot to be desired. Playing music with Jaskier is fun though. Midge keeps playing her little tune over and over because any improvisation on her part will likely send the whole thing off the rails.
His rhyme makes her smile. Leaning over, she kisses his cheek.
The kiss transforms his soft smile into a wide grin and he leans in to kiss her properly.
"Thank you for that. It meant a lot." He rests his chin on her shoulder again and stares at the piano. "If I steal, do you think your friends will notice?"
Her heart flutters when he smiles at her like that, and she gladly returns the kiss. Even if he’s hesitant, there’s nobody that she wants by her side at Leah’s wedding more than Jaskier.
“Hmmm, probably…” she muses. “It kind of ties the room together.”
The top of Jaskier’s robe is gaping open and Midge uses it as an opportunity to pet his furry chest. She hasn’t been this attracted to a man in a while.
"We'll replace it with something. Like a pile of cats."
He hums in delight at the petting, always happy to enjoy this kind of affection, especially when it comes from her perfectly manicured nails. Seeing her on a musician's stool is definitely doing it for him, so his arm returns to her waist as he starts dropping open-mouthed kisses on her neck.
Sneaky fingers start making their way up, intending to grab her tits, but at that moment, the bell rings. Jaskier throws his head back and groans in frustration. "For fuck's sake!"
She sighs and closes her eyes when Jaskier starts kissing down her neck. His fingers move up her side, and Midge is just wondering how much time they might have before the delivery boy gets here when there’s a knock at the door.
She laughs playfully at Jaskier’s frustration. “You were the one who said you were hungry.” After another kiss, Midge gets up and goes to the door. She pays the delivery boy for the pizza and wine, then brings it into the kitchen.
"Oh sure, blame the guy who needs energy to get his cock running again." He's pouting, but he can't complain when she's kissing him like that.
Jaskier waits for her in the kitchen and takes the wine from her to uncork it - gotta pretend he's manly once in a while. As he pours for both of them, he snorts at her comment and raises his eyebrows.
"I am insatiable? When have you ever said no? Who cut our shopping trip short and texted me on a quiet Sunday afternoon?" His tone is teasing, it's obvious he doesn't mind at all. "You are the first woman who has ever matched my libido."
Midge smirks, knowing that she can’t dispute that, because it’s true.
“Maybe you bring it out in me,” she says as he hands her a glass of wine. “I guess Joel and I had a lot of sex too when we first got together. That was a long time ago though.”
Midge opens the box of pizza and puts a slice on each plate.
"Only at first, huh?" He shakes his head. Story as old as time. "Told you that you would eventually resent it."
He can't help but wonder if she likes him because he's exciting, new, and different, but when she finds a proper husband that can 'provide', she'll forget he even exists. That is also a story as old as time.
(In the past, those times didn't ache like this. This is too close to the Countess.)
Pushing those thoughts aside, he raises his glass for a toast. "To a life on the stage."
“I didn’t resent it,” she responds, wanting to make that clear. “Life gets busy with careers and kids and chores. We were still having sex right up to when he told me he was leaving me. It’s wasn’t like it used to be, of course.”
That’s a normal part of a relationship. Sex becomes less important as you start to settle in with the person. It’s hard to be with someone forever if all you have is sex. What do you do when you’re too old to have sex anymore.
She’d be hurt to know that he thinks she would forget all about him if she found someone more traditional to have a relationship with.
Midge clinks her wine glass against his. “To success.”
"I said eventually," he clarifies in return. "But thanks for reminding me why I don't want children."
Oh, that's a good one. Jaskier grins, always proud to see her so determined to have a bright career. "To success," he agrees with a nod and clinks back before taking a sip. He licks his lips when he's done. "Not bad at all. I still can't believe I get to drink wine and ale cold. It truly is a wonder."
He takes two bites of his slice in succession, showing he wasn't lying about being hungry. "By the way, I haven't forgotten about your brisket. I'm even more eager to try it after tasting your soup."
Not having children because they might get in the way of his sex life is… truly something. But, Midge supposes that it’s less selfish to not have children if you don’t want them. It’s irresponsible to have children and then not take care of them to the best of your ability.
It’s funny, she never felt like she had the option to not have children. It was just an inevitability.
“Refrigeration is a wonder,” Midge says, tapping the fridge, “especially these things. They’re relatively new.”
They sit down at the table, Midge taking a bite of the pizza and humming her approval. “I’m happy to make it for you. Maybe I could come to your house one night.”
Jaskier seems to be avoiding coming to hers, though Midge still thinks that a dinner with her parents before the wedding would be a good idea, if he agrees to come.
To be fair, it's not the only reason why he doesn't want children. But it definitely adds to the list.
Midge coming to his house? That leaves him thinking for a second. He's not opposed to it, it just feels... funny. The family is still figuring out many things related to having a normal, everyday life. Well, as normal as they'll ever be.
Jaskier munches on the pizza to cover up the pause.
"The idea of you feeding my family is actually very sweet," he finally says with a little smile. "I'll talk to them. I don't know where you fall under the 'rule'. Geralt and Yennefer have already met you, and they let you come to check on me. So that makes you my first guest there." Another sip of the wine. "The idea of the rule was to avoid exposing Ciri to a parade of different lovers. I didn't mind at all, I prefer to have somewhere where I don't have to keep it low anyway." He winks.
"But you, darling... you are a friend. So."
It's different. And yet he isn't bothered by the idea of her coming home - it doesn't feel as 'official' as her introducing him to her family. He guesses it's because Geralt and Yennefer won't drop expectations on them.
“Oh,” she says, “I hadn’t realized… I just thought that since I’d been there before…”
Midge hasn’t met Ciri yet though. She understands. The girl isn’t little, but she’s still a child. Not wanting to expose her to a lot of different people makes perfect sense.
She smiles. “I sure hope I’m a friend. Not sure if your family members like me or if I’m merely tolerable by comparison to other people you might be with.”
"Don't worry, you're right - you were there before. You've already been considered an exception. I'm just not sure if it was in general or only for sick day."
The rest of the comment makes him laugh, and he almost chokes on the pizza crust. "Both! The answer is both. They do like you, and you better be proud of that, because they don't like many people." He tilts his head with a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That said, if you do come, I don't think I'll be allowed to let you stay the night. Or maybe I can convince them we'll only cuddle. So not getting distracted by my chest hair." Another wink.
“I wouldn’t expect to stay the night. It’s pretty clear that they don’t want you fucking in the house.” She knows that his illness wasn’t the only thing holding him back that morning. Midge rolls her eyes when he mentions his chest hair, as if she wasn’t petting him earlier, as if she’s not staring at it right now.
She may roll her eyes, but Jaskier notices how she keeps staring down. Snickering, he opens the robe a little more before returning to his pizza.
"Eyes up here," he teases. "Pizza has been a delicious addition to my meals, but I must admit, it can get quite... messy." He then licks some sauce off his fingers, totally doing it on purpose.
“Oh, you think I’m staring at your tits?” Jaskier happens to have a very nice chest. His physique is excellent overall. Midge has zero complaints about his body.
She watches his tongue lick the sauce off his fingers and feels a jolt of want go through her body.
"Think? I know. It's alright, darling, I like looking at yours too." Besides, he loves being the center of attention. Midge is always good for his ego.
He pretends to think hard about her question while he finishes the slice. "Mmh, do I? I'm not a vampire. Last time I checked, you were my vampiress." He takes another sip of wine and lets a drop fall from the corner of his mouth, also on purpose.
"I do like playing with you, though. Seduction is an art, one I enjoy very much. Many a person think they have to stop trying once they get together with their crush, and I greatly disagree with that philosophy." This adds to his ideas of marriage and resentment, which he's watched through the years. "Seduction isn't merely the means to an end, it's a journey to be savored. Like good wine."
“I do enjoy sucking the life out of you,” she confirms. Having a man’s dick in your mouth can make a woman feel powerful. There’s a lot of trust required for it, and men are usually absolute putty during it.
Midge finishes her piece of pizza and dares to get another one, though she thinks food is about to be the last thing on her mind.
“Married people can still seduce each other,” she says. “How do you plan to seduce me tonight, Jaskier?”
"Your mouth is very talented." And it's another way for her to be in charge, which Jaskier adores.
He can't help but snort at her comment. "They can, yes. But do they?" He keeps eye contact as he sips his wine. "Part of me doesn't want to share the details, should teach you to love the unexpected." He stands up and walks behind her. "But you like it when I talk." He lets a finger trace the line between her shoulders before he leans in to whisper in her ear. "You like it when I describe in great detail how hard I want to fuck the housewife out of you."
His hand reaches over her shoulder, and for a second, it appears to go down... but it actually grabs another slice of pizza before Jaskier returns to his seat to eat. He's grinning around the cheese, perfectly aware of what he's doing.
“Sometimes,” she replies. Marriage isn’t necessarily the death of interesting sex. It doesn’t have to be. But that’s a moot point, considering that she and Jaskier aren’t getting married.
“Yes, I do,” she says, her pulse ticking up just a little when he moves behind her. Her breath hitches at his words and she lets out a little ‘oh’. Then he’s teasing her again.
Two can play at this game.
Midge’s foot stretches out and her toes caress over his ankle and up his calf. “That’s one of my favorite scenarios for us to play out. Me, the curious housewife. You, the charming rake. Showing me what I’ve been missing.” Her toes keep going higher. “What do you plan to show me tonight? I love hearing exactly what you want to do to me.”
Jaskier throws his head back and laughs, delighted that Midge is joining the seduction game and amused by being called a rake. That's a new one, although he's been called many similar things.
Jaskier tries to keep it cool and takes another bite of his slice, but he doesn't hide the way those toes are making his body shiver.
"Is it truly a 'scenario'? Or just the truth?" He grabs a string of cheese and rolls it around his tongue before swallowing it. "I believe I've already shown you something most housewives haven't seen earlier." He lets his free hand fall on her ankle, caressing it lightly. "How did that feel, by the way? Erotic, yes, you said as much. But what else, Miriam? Did it feel powerful? Dirty? Forbidden?"
“There’s a lot of truth to it, though we have played it up in the past.” It arouses her, all the new things that they’re doing. It’s part of why she said yes to him in the first place. Midge wanted to experience heightened pleasure, and he’s given her that tenfold.
“You certainly did.” Her toes move over his knee and start to creep up his inner thigh. “It felt very forbidden, but watching you turned me on so much. You looked like you were in ecstasy.”
"I was," he replies, but something else she said has caught his attention. "Playing it up, huh?"
Jaskier squints his eyes at her, an idea forming in his head. His hand grabs her ankle, stopping it before it goes any farther. There's some things to consider, which he does while finishing his slice - cheating is probably not a subject he can joke about. Mmh.
He takes a good moment to plan things in his head, always keeping eye contact with her while he eats. When he senses she's about to speak again, he finally says something.
"Princess Miriam," he says before lifting her leg to kiss her ankle. "Are you sure? Your parents could come back any minute. If the king were to discover I'm taking your flower, you may lose your right to the throne. And I may lose my head."
In all fairness, playing a cheating role play where she’s a frustrated housewife doesn’t bother her that much, even if it’s very close to reality. The difference is that neither of them are actually cheating on anyone.
Does that make sense? Maybe not.
This role play piques Midge’s interests as well though. She gives him a small smile before slipping into character.
“Jaskier, I’ve wanted you ever since you became my father’s bard. You’re the only one that I want to take my flower, before father marries me off to some horrible lord.”
It does make sense - that's what fantasies are about.
Jaskier grins at her reply, so fucking giddy at the fact she's playing along. He gently puts down her leg and cleans his hands with a napkin before leaving his chair. It's clear he's spent a long time in court by how easily he falls on one knee and takes her hand to kiss her knuckles.
"Your Highness flatters me," he says as he turns her hand around to nuzzle it. "Yet I can't deny I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you as well." And hey, that's actually true. "Is it true that the king has eyes and ears in the walls? Do you think someone can see me now?" He then takes one of her fingers in his mouth to suck it, taking most of its length with no difficulty to breathe.
Oh, there’s something absolutely charming about seeing him get down on one knee and kiss her hand. Her breath catches when he sucks her finger into his mouth.
Midge supposes that her answer partially depends on where Jaskier wants to fuck.
“In many rooms, yes, but not the music room. We would be safe there.”
He grins around her finger and almost drops character to kiss her for remembering that detail, but catches himself just in time.
"As Your Highness commands."
Determined to make a whole performance out of this, he tiptoes to the kitchen door and looks both ways, as if checking that the corridor is clear. Then he comes back for her, gently taking her hand while a finger goes to his lips to ask for silence.
Jaskier guides Midge down the corridor, walking against the wall as if they were really sneaking around. They make it to the studio, and Jaskier closes the door before turning to look at Midge with hunger in his eyes.
"We'll have to keep it quiet - guards are patrolling the gardens." He tilts his head to indicate the window. Then he walks toward her, forcing her to step back until her back hits the piano. Jaskier puts his arms on either side of her, grabbing onto the wood as he leans in to whisper in her ear. "How protective of you has your father been, princess? Is it merely your flower that he's protected? Or you haven't kissed a man either?
If he gets upset about this joke please let me edit it lol
Midge follows, playing along with the whole scenario as she looks fearfully over her shoulder. Once inside the studio, her face registers some relief.
She gasps when she’s backed against the piano, trying to remember back to when she was a virgin and draw from that for inspiration.
“I kissed the son of a viscount once,” she murmurs, “but no man has taken my flower. Father told me it was only for the husband he had picked for me, but I think I should be able to give it to whomever I choose.”
Jaskier bites his lip to stop a chuckle from escaping him, not wanting to ruin the scene. Leave it to Midge to still be a hilarious little shit even in a context like this. This is why he adores her so much.
After taking a deep breath, he pulls back and cups her face, his thumb lightly tracing her lips.
"Only once. So you haven't experienced the art of kissing. Not truly."
He kisses her then, slowly and sweetly, guiding her like she was a precious young thing that just came of age. Once she's into it, his hand moves from her cheek to the back of her head at the same time that his body moves forward to keep her pressed against him. Jaskier takes his sweet time keeping the kiss chaste, letting her bask in it and looking to melt her little by little. Eventually, his tongue searches for hers, and the contact is electric. He tastes her thoroughly, letting out a little hum of delight.
Midge almost got him to laugh, and that will never NOT be her goal, regardless of what they’re doing.
She closes her eyes and allows herself to feel the same way that she did the first time that she was kissed, or at least the first time she kissed Jaskier. It was at her apartment, the afternoon they sent shopping. It felt like longing fulfilled. There’s something sweet and romantic about kissing like this, starting gentle and chaste and working up to something more heated. Her tongue pushes tentatively back against his before deepening the kiss.
Their lips part to breathe and Midge murmurs to him. “I’ve never been kissed like that before, my sweet bard. I want you so badly.”
When she says she's never been kissed like that, he can't help but wonder how much it's part of the act and how much she means it regarding the only two men she's been with. He can't stop thinking-
"You haven't been treated well, princess. Kept away in a tower like that..." He shakes his head. "Your beauty should be admired by the whole world."
He kisses her cheek and then her ear, nibbling on it before whispering again. "You want me, huh? You want this scoundrel to debauch you?" His hands lower the robe from her shoulders to expose them. "You want to prove your father that you're capable of choosing whose cock will fill you up nicely?" A kiss for her shoulder. "What naughty princess you are."
His kisses start light, going from her should to her neck where he starts devouring her properly. He licks and sucks, moves to the other side to repeat the process. "Oh, how I wish I could mark your neck. Let those candidates of yours know they must step up. Your pearls would make a great contrast with them. Alas," he sighs dramatically. "We can't let the king know what we're doing, can we?"
She’s kissed more than three men in her life, but she has to admit that it’s different with Jaskier. It feels like how it was with Joel; a spark igniting a flame.
Midge moans softly at the words whispered in her ear. “Yes,” she replies. “I want you to show me the pleasure that I know my husband never will.”
As he kisses over her neck and laments not being able to mark her, Midge lets the robe slip fully down and off of her body. “Mark my breasts, where my clothing will cover. I want to feel your hands and mouth on them.”
She's brought up the husband. Not the ex, not the cheating, but still close enough for Jaskier to use it soon. This is going to be fun.
He gasps dramatically again, a hand on his chest as he steps back to admire her naked figure. "Your Highness! This is a complete lack of decorum! What would your father say?"
Jaskier grabs her hand to raise her arm above her head, making her turn so he can eat her with his eyes as he recites. "Ode, to Your Nakedness, Your, Lovely, Silhouette, Such Beauty, as yours, Arouses me, so." After a few turns, he pulls her against him, her back against his chest, the fluffiness of his short robe caressing her skin. Speaking of the robe, a tent is already starting to form on it.
"Here's, to Your Body, Pleasing, Perfect. May I Bask, one day, in the Glow, Of its Alluring, Angelic, Contours." His hands close on her breasts so he can play with them, massaging lightly at first, but quickly changing to pinching her nipples.
"Fuck your husband," he growls against her ear. That may be inspired by a certain reality of hers. "None of those snobbish lords know what to do with a real woman. If Your Highness excuses me..."
Suddenly, Jaskier lifts Midge and sits her on the piano. Now he can stand between her legs and bury his face in her breasts to mark them like she asked.
Midge turns around not like a blushing virgin, but a woman who likes being admired from all angles, especially when it’s Jaskier doing the admiring. It won’t be a 100% authentic acting performance on her part, but she thinks he’ll be able to deal with that.
“I’ve always admired your ability to come up with quick poetry.”
She moans softly when he grabs her breasts. Jaskier hasn’t played with them much tonight, and she’s been sorely missing that.
There’s a more genuine gasp when he growls in her ear and then lifts her up onto the piano. Midge spreads her legs so that he can stand in between them. She digs a hand in his hair.
“That feels so good,” she tells him. “That’s why I want you, Jaskier. I know that you’ll make me feel the sort of pleasure that only my hand can bring me now.”
He can help but snort against her skin, and he looks up at her with a glint in his eye as he takes a nipple between his teeth. After nibbling a little bit, he pulls back, licking away the trail of spit between his mouth and her tit.
"Your hand? Princess, don't offend me so. I'm so much more than your hand." He pinches both her nipples at the same time. "Than any hand. Do you think your future husband, whose hands barely leave their gloves, will know how to touch you?" Jaskier snorts as his hand falls between her folds and two fingers gather her wetness.
"Marked and wet - what a debauched little princess. How much do you want me to corrupt you, mmh?" Those two (now wet) fingers touch her lips. "Ever tasted yourself, Your Highness?"
The way he handles her body with such confidence is a huge turn on. His attentions leave her feeling like her body is on fire.
“I know that lords are too proper for what I want. That’s why I want you to fuck me, my darling bard.”
Midge spreads her legs wider when she feels his hand stroke at her folds. She licks at his fingers before taking them deep in her mouth and sucking them slowly out, reminiscent of how she sucks his cock.
“I have, after I’ve touched myself.” Her eyes flick downward at the tent in his robe. “Does it make your cock hard to know that you’re going to get to fuck the princess? So many lords wish they could be in your place right now.”
Jaskier closes his eyes and moans at the divine things that pretty mouth of hers is doing to his fingers. It's very hard not to get on the piano too and just make her suck something else.
"Your Highness should go ahead and find out," he replies with a grin. "You've been brave enough to expose yourself to a servant - are you brave enough to undress him, too? To come face to face with the nude form of a man?"
“I am,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him as she reaches down to untie the belt to the robe. When the robe falls away, Midge lets her eyes roam over his body and feels her desire for him ticking up.
“You’re so handsome, my sweet bard.” Pulling him closer, her fingers dig into his chest hair as she kisses him again. “And your cock is so big. I can’t wait to feel it inside of me.” Her lips press to Jaskier’s ear. “Is that what you want? To feel my warm cunt tight around your cock? To know every time you look at my husband that you got to feel it first?”
As he happily kisses her back, he shakes his arms to let the robe fall off his body, whimpering right into her mouth when the fluffly fabric brushes his throbbing cock on its way down.
That whimper becomes a moan when she praises his body and makes such dirty comments. Oh, how much he adores her and her feisty mouth, a mouth that is reaching a new level of eroticism thanks to the context of the fantasy.
"Feel it. Mark it. Teach it what it should be like." He playfully nibbles the tip of her nose. "Every time you are with him, you'll have to think of me to be able to come at all."
Jaskier then finally gets on the piano and sits next to her, making sure the sides of their bodies are touching as much as possible. He wraps an arm around her waist and his hand dives down between her legs to let his fingers rub her folds. "Never touched a cock, yet already so eager after just seeing it. You're a very naughty princess indeed. Go ahead, continue to be brave - get to know it. See how thick it is next to your dainty fingers."
Midge hopes this piano can safely hold the weight of both of them, because she does not want to have to explain to the Goldbergs how their piano got broken.
Her fingers reach over and wrap around his cock, as her legs spread to allow his hand more access between them. She strokes his cock up and down slowly under the guise of exploring, but actually teasing him.
Or maybe they should break it, and Jaskier can take home the pieces! Just kidding. Maybe.
"How could I not be?" he asks after letting out a needy moan. That she pretends to explore just to mess with him is driving him crazy, especially since it fits the fantasy so well. "Your Highness is giving yourself up to me - your flower shall be mine. I could come just by thinking about it."
He kisses her then, his fingers starting to massage her entrance as his tongue searches for hers in a deep, devouring kiss. When they pull apart, he brings his fingers up with a grin. "Look at you, so wet for your servant. What a dirty princess you are."
Jaskier gently lowers them both on the piano, keeping their bodies on their sides with him staying behind her. He groans as he inserts his cock between her legs, teasing her folds with his length but not entering her quite yet.
“I don’t see you as a servant,” Midge says. “You’re brilliant and talented. If you were born a lord, you would be more than worthy of me.”
It’s kind of hilarious that one of them actually was born a lord.
Her breath hitches when Jaskier positions himself behind her and pushes his cock between her thighs. This is not a ‘take your virginity’ position, but Midge doesn’t care. She loves it too much to stay true to the fantasy.
“I want you to take me just like this. Push your cock inside me.” She looks at him coyly over her shoulder. “Will it hurt?”
"If I was born a lord, would you have looked at me at all? Am I not more attractive as your dirty little secret?"
It's indeed hilarious and hits home at the same time.
Jaskier wants both of them to be on the piano as part of his kink, so the position is a bit of a compromise. And they haven't done this one yet, so that's more exploring.
Gosh, not the coy look again. She's going to kill him with it. It makes his need to 'corrupt' her boil.
"You're wet enough and I'll be gentle." He kisses her nose. "So you have nothing to worry about."
A calloused hand raises her leg so he can finally go in. To follow the fantasy, he penetrates her very slowly while dropping little kisses on her shoulder and neck.
"Your flower is no more," he finally says when he's fully inside. She's tight, and wet, and just perfect. "You've claimed, Your Highness."
“Perhaps,” she replies, “but then we could be together.” Maybe that ruins the sexual fantasy of this whole thing, but Midge sees her character as a young woman infatuated with the handsome and charming bard who serves her court. She would probably want more than sex with him.
She moans softly as he pushes into her, putting her upper leg behind his so that he’ll have room to thrust. “Fuck, you feel so big.” Not an exaggeration. That’s part of why Midge loves this position.
“How does my cunt feel?” She asks. “Should I touch myself while you fuck me?” Last time he took her hand away when she tried to rub her clit.
"Your Highness dreams big," he simply says, unsure of how much of that was a fantasy anymore. He isn't supposed to be thinking right now, goddamit.
"It feels absolutely marvelous. So wet and ready for me," he replies against her ear. "Mmmh. I was about to say that's usually my job, but... go ahead. Because if you leave my hand free, then I can do this."
Jaskier's hand sneaks under her arm to grab her tit, squeezing it as he starts to move. "Moan for me, princess. I don't care if a guard hears. I shall gladly give up my head to hear your song."
His thrusts start slow and his mouth never leaves her ear so he can keep telling her how wonderful she feels, what a good girl she is. Her hand never leaves her breasts either, playing with them and pinching the nipples just to make her moan harder.
Midge gasps when he grabs her breast, and moans as requested. “I love when you play with my tits…”
Her hand moves down between her legs in order to stroke her clit, matching the speed of his thrusts for now. It’s perfect like this, with his cock pushing into her from behind and his lips at her ear, whispering things to her. Midge lets out a yelp of pleasure when he pinches her nipples.
His, huh? Don't mind him, gonna take that as permission to start moving faster, thrusting into her as if his life depended on it. His sweaty skin slips on the wood and later he'll realize what he's doing to the poor instrument - right now, he just loves fucking on music.
"Nobody will ever fuck you like I do," he grumbles between pants and moans, fingers digging into the skin of her breasts. "You can go back to your lordlings and your engagements, but you'll always miss my cock."
"Oh yes. I love it when Your Highness is naughty - and that's what makes you so good in my eyes."
Jaskier doesn't notice the change of pace from her - he's already lost, his body moving on its own as he fucks hard into her, the sound of his balls hitting her rear making outright filthy music.
"Like animals do, princess? Should I get you on your fours and mount you later? Is that what you want?"
She lets out a loud moan at his words and the image that they form in her mind. “Fuck, yes,” she pants.
Unfortunately, their sex can’t go on forever. Jaskier is going to come soon enough. Midge speeds up the pace of her fingers over her clit, feeling her pleasure rise rapidly.
“Jaskier…” She reverts to the innocent princess. “I… I think you’re going to make me come.”
Oh, she really liked that, huh? She liked that so much that she broke character. Jaskier saves the information for later.
"Good. Come for me, princess. Come for me, and I'll reward you with my seed." his thrusts start going harder and faster, and his hand doesn't let go of her tits. "You would like that, would you not? To be nicely filled up?"
The orgasm hits her hard and Midge’s moans of pleasure ring off of the walls. Her body stiffens, then arches as the waves of pleasure flow over her. It’s perfect as always, especially the way he’s grabbing her tits. She clutches at his hair, never wanting it to end.
When it finally does, she slumps back against him, spent for the moment.
As soon as Midge starts orgasming, Jaskier lets go as well, only thrusting a couple more times before staying deep inside her to fill her up as promised. It still blows his mind that he's allowed to do that at all and it makes the orgasm so much better. His hand digs into her skin as his body shakes in ecstasy, sliding on the wood of the organ for that final touch. His body bends forward as if curling around her, clinging to her as he moans right in her ear.
Getting to feel her body against his from head to toes just makes it extra special.
Jaskier collapses when he's done too, but he leaves his head on her shoulder for the obligatory cuddling. After a few seconds to recover his breath, he finally speaks.
Midge absolutely loves the sensation of him coming inside of her. Yennefer’s potion is a miracle drug. The only bad thing about this position is that Midge can’t watch him when he orgasms.
She leans her head against his as he comes down. “Very satisfied, my sweet bard.”
Jaskier chuckles and kisses her shoulder. He would like to lie down and turn their position to cuddle properly, but now that he's going through post-nut clarity, he's thinking about the poor piano. He'll have to find something clean the wood - but that's for when his legs function again.
"That holds a new meaning after this. How was that for seduction?" he replies with a wide grin on his face. "Should I keep calling you princess, then?"
Jaskier doesn't know about his princess, even if it does make his heart feel all fuzzy, but he reminds himself that he isn't supposed to think tonight.
He laughs pretty hard while finally pulling out. "Yes, we are. I don't know about you, but I loved this part too."
After a kiss to her cheek, he gets off the piano and takes her hand to help her down too. He also picks up the robes and this time he puts the small one on her shoulders while he puts on the big one.
With an arm half way through a sleeve, he freezes. "...please tell me you know where the cleaning products are." He falls to his knees as he puts a hand on the piano. "I'm sorry, dear. Your sacrifice is appreciated. I promise I'll leave you sparkling again."
Midge has a way of reminding him about their non-relationship relationship, doesn’t she?
“It’s truly the most unique place I’ve ever had sex,” she replies, taking Jaskier’s hand as he helps her off the piano. She wraps Muriel’s robe around her, and snorts a laugh at Jaskier’s actions.
“Wow, you get me dirty all the time and I’ve never seen this level of concern for me,” Midge teases. “Unbelievable. Cleaning products are probably under the kitchen sink. I’ll go look.”
Mental note: look for more unique places to fuck her.
Jaskier laughs as he leans over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. "That's because you look sublime when you've been properly debauched."
He rushes ahead to the kitchen without waiting for her and gets another slice of pizza to munch on it while he searches for the cleaning products. The pizza is cold by now, but he doesn't care. It's still good.
As soon as he has the cleaning products, he rushes back to the studio to start cleaning the poor piano. He's very concentrated on the task, singing along while he works. He only pauses to curse when he notices a dirty spot that he didn't see before.
Once he's done, he steps back to admire his work. "I wish I had wood wax. But it still looks good, right?"
While Jaskier cleans the piano, Midge cleans up the kitchen, washing and drying their dirty plates. She keeps the wine glasses out for now, in case they want to finish the bottle. Knowing Jaskier, he will. When she finishes tidying the kitchen, she joins him in the extra room.
His care for all things musical shows through with his attention to detail as he cleans the piano. Just like he’s always so gentle with his lute. It’s really quite sweet.
“Looks like it’s never even been fucked on,” Midge replies with a nod.
"A pity," he says with an exaggerated sigh. "We should be allowed to keep souvenirs of our fucking."
It's a joke, of course - even if he had his own piano, he would clean it after fucking on it. Which he would often. He picks up the cleaning products and takes them back to the kitchen before pouring more wine. Midge knows him well.
"Did you hear about that artist who covered himself and his wife in paint?" he asks while pulling at Midge's hand to sit her on his lap. He wants his cuddling! "They fucked on a big canvas and framed the result. The literal 'art of fucking'."
"I did notice that lots of the art here is blotches without meaning," he replies while wrinkling his nose. "But watching that one while knowing how it was made was definitely an interesting experience." He tilts his head, smirking. "I was sharing a story, I wasn't expecting you to like it. Count me in, though. It does sound fun."
He wraps an arm around her, keeping her close while he reaches for his own glass. However, he freezes to stare at her with clear surprise.
"I always think of your moans as the sweetest music. You would be ok with something like that?"
"Do they actually have meaning, or is the artist pretending they do?" He sounds very skeptical. Because he is.
He sips some wine while closely watching her reaction. Her question actually leaves him thinking for a moment.
"I suppose it'd depend on the type of song and how much moaning sounds I use. My first instinct is to say yes, it'd be very obscene, and that's the point. But it could also be a story about two people coming together, and the moans only fade away at the end as their bodies finally crash into passion."
“It could be a whole grand conspiracy between the artists and the museums and the art critics,” Midge says. “If our sex painting isn’t hailed as the next Picasso, we’ll know why.”
She shrugs. “Might be hard to get radio play with actual orgasm noises in the song unless they’re really well hidden.”
He laughs pretty hard at that. Gosh, she's always so funny. Luckily for her, he's heard of Picasso already, although he could've figured it out by context. "If our painting isn't a hit, it's obviously because everyone will be jealous of how amazing our sex is."
The radio, right. Jaskier adores the invention, he really does. He has it on at home whenever he isn't making music of his own - the fact that these recordings allow music to play everywhere all the time is amazing and he welcomes it. But wrapping his head around putting his music there is still something he needs to get used to. It's not bad, just... new.
"It wouldn't be a song from such a context, no. The raunchy ones never are. Do you think I sang my dirty ditties at court?" He shakes his head. "Those were for the tarverns, mayhaps a festival." A pause as he remembers something. "Now I think about it, there've been a few exceptions. I got away at court with some lyrics that hid the naughty bits with metaphors." He sips his wine. "Although you'd think those so-called smart lords would get the very obvious meaning behind To pull on my horn / As it rises in the morn." He sing-sangs that bit.
“Oh, people come up with all kinds of things to avoid the censors,” Midge says. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”
She studies him for a moment, sipping her wine. “What if everyone knew it was me moaning in that song?” That’s kind of embarrassing. More than kind of. She thinks adding her orgasm noises to his music would require more of a commitment on his part.
"Speaking from experience?" he teases. He's heard her act, after all. Not to mention the place of their first meeting.
He stares back, trying to understand where that question is coming from. It bothers him that he can't tell.
"For the record, you brought up the radio. I just toyed with the idea of making the song - I am still shocked to hear you're considering it. I was expecting you to ask me to keep it private. Like the picture I sent you."
“Admittedly, I was joking, but you seemed very interested in the idea. I’m not sure how I feel about us recording our sex. Or rather, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable with it, even as a private thing between us.”
Private things have a way of getting out, it seems.
"I am very interested in the idea," he admits. "But if you're uncomfortable, then we shall drop the subject."
Jaskier cups her face, brushing his thumb on her cheek. "I want you to enjoy sex, to embrace it. Not to feel uncomfortable. Society already does enough shaming as it is."
Midge leans her head against his hand. “You make me feel very comfortable trying things with you, though that’s in the privacy of this apartment. I want to keep things between us for now.”
She presses a kiss to his wrist. “You’ve helped me to explore all kinds of things that I never thought I would. This is the most open that I’ve ever been.”
She wants to keep things between them, yet she also wants him to be her plus one and thinks her parents will tell something is going on. Jaskier wants to say you have a funny way of showing it, but remembers how she cried on the bed earlier and bites his lower lip just in time.
Can she really take this? Jaskier can hear Geralt telling him to end it before she gets hurt - hell, the rational part of him thinks the same. But Jaskier is more emotional than rational, so he melts under her kiss and his heart aches when he hears her say that this the most open that she's ever been. It only makes him want to give her more.
"I am really happy to hear that," he says after a long, awkward pause. "You honor me so. So never be afraid of saying no, even if we are in the middle of whatever idea we get in the future. Not everything will land, and I don't want you to have any regrets."
She means their sex, of course, not their friendship or relationship, however it’s being defined. The long pause makes her feel self-conscious. Did she say something stupid? Midge wraps the robe more tightly around herself.
She nods. “You’re always gentle with me, pushing me but not forcing me to do anything.”
"As it should be." He did many stupid things as a teenager, so he's proud to have learned from past experiences and provide safe options for her.
"Of course, if you want it just a little rougher, just let me know. We did have a good time when I fucked you hard on your knees last time." A grin. "And you seemed very interested in the idea of mounting you just a few moments ago."
A flush forms on her cheeks and neck. “It gave me a very vivid image,” she replies. “Ideas for another night. Right now, I want to cuddle with you in bed.”
It’s late and they’ve gone 3 rounds. She’s not ruling out a fourth, but she’s in the mood to wind down and have Jaskier hold her in the dark.
"You're so cute when you blush," he says before kissing her cheek. "As the princess commands."
Jaskier isn't a jock or anything like it - he isn't the kind of guy who is known for physical feats. But he's fit enough, he thinks, and Midge is on the smaller side, so it's easy for him to pick her up in his arms and take her to the bedroom.
He kisses her sweetly as he disrobes her, getting rid of his own robe too before joining her under the blankets. Nuzzling her hair, he wraps his arms around her, loving how perfectly she fits against him. "Better?"
Midge thinks he’s quite fit. She lets out a little squeal and wraps her arms tightly around his neck when he picks her up. The sweet kiss is returned as both of them take off their robes and get into bed.
“Much better.” She feels warm and safe here, lying against his chest with her fingers stroking it idly. “Did Geralt teach you how to fight?”
It’s just something she thought of and isn’t asking for any reason in particular.
He blinks twice before bursting into laughing so hard that he covers his face with a hand.
"Please, please, say that in front of Geralt sometime, I beg you." He shakes his head. "I can't fight to save my life. And that's why I have the person equivalent of a brick house to do it for me. I start the fights, Geralt ends them." He raises his eyebrows. "Do I want to know where that came from?" He doesn't sound judgmental, just curious. And very amused.
“Him finishing your fights after you start them with your mouth sounds… correct,” Midge says. “I was just curious, since I saw him training Ciri. I wondered if you picked up a few things.”
Guess not. She will absolutely mention it in front of Geralt.
"Ciri can overpower me with her pinky," he admits with a nod and zero shame. "Everything I've picked up from him is more related to life on the road. Starting a fire, cleaning a fish, knowing what mushrooms are edible, tying stronger knots, some monster facts... Does talking to your horse count?"
Because he's pretty sure that he ended up talking to rats in prison because of Geralt.
“Oh, we can go camping. Too bad I hate camping,” Midge says. “Actually, that’s not entirely true, but my idea of camping is probably not your idea of camping.”
There is a cabin, and a dining hall, and activities, and a hair salon. No tents or foraging required.
"That sounds very ominous. What is your idea of camping?" he asks with genuine curiosity. "Because don't take me wrong, while I've come to enjoy nature much more than I did as a teen, I still wouldn't mind a few amenities. It doesn't have to be all or nothing."
He's seen RVs and he thinks they're a great middle point. An actual bed but you still get the forest.
The question makes him laugh. "Not in the same way he talked to Roach, but he may say a little thing once in a while. Like I did to the piano." Then he realizes. "Do men talk to their cars here?"
“Every summer, my family goes to Camp Steiner in the Catskills. It’s technically camping but there’s no survivalist stuff. We stay in cabins and do outdoor activities. There’s even a hair salon.”
Geralt would probably hate it, but it seems right up Jaskier’s alley. Midge stops herself before she invites him to come with them. Let’s see if he comes to the wedding first.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the men here fucked their cars,” she replies.
"That does sound lovely, but I wouldn't call it camping." He grins. "It sounds like something Yennefer would like, not Geralt. But please, do tell him about a hair salon during 'camping'. Just let me grab my camera first."
Imagining his face already makes him snicker. That snickering becomes full laughter when she mentions the car fucking.
She grins. “That’s as close as it gets to camping for me.” Surely that doesn’t come as a surprise to Jaskier. Midge can rough it if she absolutely has to, but she doesn’t like it.
“Far better,” Midge replies with a nod, then leans up to kiss his cheek.
“I had a good time tonight.”
I was watching the movie Glass and got a surprise Lenny lol
A sly smile crosses Midge’s face. “So long as we go back to our cabin afterwards.” While not into the idea of roughing it, sex outside is a different matter.
Cuddling like this makes her feel so close to him, and not just physically. Her heart swells at how right this feels. Maybe it’s the hormones released during sex that are making her feel this way, but Midge thinks it’s more than that. The sex is only one part of what she likes about Jaskier.
She doesn’t dare voice any of that, because she fears it would drive him away. Someday, maybe, they will need to talk about it, but right now she’s too happy to potentially ruin it.
“I missed you too, and not just the sex. I like talking with you, making you laugh.”
Jaskier teases, but to be fair, he used to be like that, too. That doesn't mean he shouldn't share what he's learned. Nature is an artist too.
He nuzzles her hair, because he likes it but also because he wants to hide his eyes when she says that. Can't show too much.
"You like making everyone laugh." His tone is light - not offended, just teasing. Calloused fingers rub her back. "Just don't tell Susie I get it for free."
“No,” she replies. “You want to keep me out there all night?” It sounds delightful, actually.
“Susie knows what you get from me for free,” Midge quips. “It’s true that I like making everyone laugh, but I really enjoy making you laugh most of all. I love the sound of your laugh.”
She kisses him sweetly. “And you’re great to cuddle with, my darling bard.”
"I was thinking of waking up early, but your idea works too."
In fact, he's getting a new idea now. And he saves it for himself to surprise her later.
Jaskier laughs at the Susie thing, and makes a mental note to tease her if they ever meet again.
"Now you've made the musician curious. Do comedians have preferences for the kind of laughter they hear?" He wonders is she likes his because of sound reasons, or just because it's his. He isn't brave enough to ask. At least the kiss provides a distraction - he grabs the back of her head and deepens the kiss just enough to tease but not crossing the line into starting something. "Mm-mh, you do fit perfectly against me, it's quite lovely. Maybe you should stop wearing heels, then I can always have you under my chin."
“I don’t know if I have a preference. Sometimes if someone has a particularly loud or obnoxious laugh it can get annoying, especially if I think they’re faking it,” Midge replies before returning the kiss. She keeps her lips close even after they break it.
“It might be difficult for you to play the lute like that.”
"The fakers are the worst," he agrees with a nod. "If they're so fucking unhappy, they should just fucking leave instead of ruining it for everyone."
It's hard to resist when she leaves her mouth so close. Jaskier kisses her again, short and sweet. He just likes casual affection - and feeling close to her, he must admit.
"I'll put my arms around you and the lute on your lap. It may be more difficult to sing if I keep nuzzling your hair."
“They’re people with puppets and they make the puppet’s mouth move so it seems like it’s talking,” Midge explains. “Most ventriloquist acts are nightmarish, so maybe don’t look into them. I guess Howdy Doody is technically a ventriloquist act. I don’t know how it doesn’t scare Ethan to death.”
"Oh! It's a kids' thing. Yeah, let's not sit you on my lap in front of the children. Especially yours." When she says that she doesn't know, though, Jaskier can't help but snort. "Children love the grotesque. My most popular songs among them are always the ones that mention monster guts the most."
“Yes, they do like gross stuff,” she agrees. “You should look up Punch and Judy shows. Those aren’t gross so much as violent and are also supposed to be for kids.”
Midge smiles at him. “Can’t have me in your lap without getting hard, hmm?”
"It sounds like you'll have to get Ethan a sword for his birthday." Just kidding.
Jaskier laughs at her question. "Can you blame me? You're so-" Every word that follows is punctuated by a kiss to a different spot on her face. "Addictive. Gorgeous. Witty. Alluring. Affectionate. Charismatic. Eager. Charming. Seductive."
“A lute,” Midge says. “Remember, bard stuff is very in fashion right now.”
She closes her eyes and scrunches her nose when he kisses her and tries not to giggle, but he only gets to the third word and kiss before she’s giggling like a girl.
“Thank you. Do you really think I’m all of those things?”
Laughing. "Now I'm afraid he may break the lute on someone's head."
Jaskier loves listening to her giggles - they're cute, and a pure expression of joy. Music from the heart, so to speak. Her question, however, takes him by surprise. He tilts his head.
"Of course. Do you think I'd lie about something like that? Or do you not believe it yourself?" She's always seemed so confident in his eyes, but minds are complicated things.
“I’m not accusing you of lying. Maybe exaggerating.” Midge shrugs. “That’s a lot of things to be. I didn’t feel like much of any of those things after I found out Joel was cheating on me.”
It was a big blow to her self-esteem, and she’s not sure if she’s recovered entirely. She can act that way on stage, but real life isn’t always the same.
Jaskier really wants to find Joel right now and punch him in the face. Or rather, make Geralt punch him in the face.
"Oh, darling..." He hugs her tightly and kisses the top of her head. "Your husband is an arse, so you shouldn't take his opinion seriously. Who do you trust more? The fucking bloke that cheated on you? Or your manager, who only needed to hear you once to know she found someone special? As for me..."
He kisses her head again, as if asking her to be patient while he explains. "I believe I told you I don't keep things or people I like around, unless it's for survival. I may use my silver tongue in court, or with a client, to write songs that make people Geralt. But in my personal time?" He shakes his head. "I won't deny that when I meet someone, I may exaggerate a bit as a seduction technique. Those are one-night stands, however. But you? I'm keeping you. Because indeed, you are all those things. What Susie sees, I see it too."
His words are surprisingly touching, even if they aren’t quite words of love. He’s keeping her. He wants her for more than just one night, which is apparent since they’ve had sex multiple times. He likes her and wants her around. For him, that means a lot. The smile returns to her face.
“Oh you’re keeping me, are you?” she asks teasingly. “Where are you keeping me? In your bed?”
Jaskier's so relieved to see her smile again - he hates to think what that bastard of an ex must've done to her soul. At least, she isn't one of those cases where the art suffers because the artists took a hit. The exact opposite, in fact, her suffering creates her art. And that's a story as old as time.
"I'm so glad to see your pretty smile again," he says before kissing the corner of her mouth. Her questions make him laugh. "I wish. In your bed, maybe. And this bed. And the couch, and the piano... We said something about your dressing room, didn't we?"
He’s right. Comedy is how she’s dealing with everything. It’s better than therapy, in her opinion.
“We did.” She grins. “Next time I have a place with a private dressing room. You said previously that you want to keep me in your lap all day. What would you to do me if you kept me like that?” Her fingers stroke slowly over his chest.
"Mmmh..." He thinks of an answer while his fingers draw random shapes on her back.
"I could keep my cock inside you all day. Compose dirty lyrics right by your ear. Fill you up with my seed over and over, to the point you're leaking on my thighs."
“Fuck,” she whispers, her eyes closing for a moment so that she can better picture what he’s describing. “I’d ride your cock as many times as you wanted me to, your eager princess. You’d feel the walls of my cunt get tight around you and you’d know I was ready to go again. Do you think you’d really get much writing done like that?”
His fingers dig into her skin when she describes her cunt tightening around his cock, and Jaskier curses as well.
"I don't know about the writing part per se - but you are great inspiration. I would struggle to put rhymes together while you ride me to whisper them in your ear". His hands fall on her arse to squeeze it as he buries his nose in her ear. "She felt his hands move like they’d just been gifted a map — not to conquer, but to understand."
Midge lets out a small sigh of want. “I’m very glad to inspire you. We inspire each other.”
She presses a kiss to his jaw. “Maybe one day I’ll get up on stage and tell the audience how incredible your cock is, how you can make me come so many times.”
"That's true," he responds with a big smile. He loves the idea. "It's the spark."
Jaskier isn't sure if she's kidding or not, but he groans anyway because he absolutely loves the idea. "What else?" he asks as his hands start to roam around her body. "What else would you tell your crowd about me? Do you think they'd picture you taking my cock so enthusiastically?"
Midge furrows her brow. “Not sure if I’d want them to picture it. I’d like them to be jealous of the fantastic sex that I’m having though.”
Her arousal starts to increase as Jaskier’s hands start to move over her body. “Probably how well you eat my cunt,” she says. “Another thing for them to be jealous of.”
"Ah, of course, you want to show off," he teases before his mouth lands on his neck, dropping slow and sweet open-mouthed kisses to punctuate every word of hers. His hands soon land on her breasts to play with her nipples.
"Would you tell the women in your audience not to get married?" he asks between kisses. "To just get themselves a boytoy with a skilled mouth?"
Jaskier can't help but snort at her comment, but he doesn't reply. Not out of manners, but because his mouth is going down to attack her breasts, very happy to feast and add a few hickeys. His hands grab her legs and wrap them around his body, groaning when her body crashes against his slowly awakening cock.
"Your husband never bothered to care," he says with a growl. It's not the roleplay anymore, but something tells him she liked that part. "You've never been fucked like this. Say it."
The way she says his name always makes his whole body shiver. Jaskier starts grinding against her as his head moves back up to find her mouth in a hungry kiss, making sure to play with her tongue and taste every inch of her mouth.
"You've never been kissed like this either," he adds when he breaks the kiss. "Tell me what you want, Miriam."
She returns the kiss with equal eagerness, her tongue sliding over his. It’s a messy, desperate kiss, one that only leaves her wanting more from him. His steadily hardening cock grinds against her thighs.
“I want you to fuck me,” Midge says. “Make me come hard for you. And I want to feel you come inside me. Do you have another orgasm in you my darling bard?”
"I always have another orgasm for you, darling." He winks. "If ever ask for an orgasm and I say no, you'll know I've been cursed."
He grabs her hand and kisses each of her fingertips. "Think you can give me a literal hand to help me get there?" He lets go of her hand so his thumb can tease her clit. "I shall return the favor."
His hand trembles against her clit when she starts stroking him, his moans echoing in the room. With her touching him and saying all those dirty things, it's pretty easy for him to get fully hard.
"And I love how well you always take me... wet and tight and madenning."
Jaskier kisses her again, as hungry and needy as before, while his hand gently removes hers so he can finally move inside. His back arches as he groans, basking in the feeling of how amazing she feels around him. Soon he's thrusting into her, always keeping his eyes on hers just to admire how pretty she is.
Midge hitches her leg up further on his hip as he pushes into her. After taking a second to adjust her position, she’s able to meet each of his thrusts, a soft moan escaping her lips every time.
“Why wouldn’t I be when it feels this good? You spoil me.”
"I love spoiling you," he says between pants and kisses, leaving a peck on whatever spot of skin is the closest. "You deserve to be spoiled." He punctuates that last word by reaching between them to stroke her clit. "You're such a good girl for me after all."
With every second that passes, his thrusts go faster and harder, his words more slurry. It's easy to lose himself in her, to let her take him in and keep him captured in her cunt in a cloud of pleasure and passion.
Her moans grow louder when he starts to rub at her clit and her eyes flutter shut so that she can lose herself in the pleasure that he’s giving her.
“I love being a good girl for you,” Midge breathes. “Love being your spoiled princess.”
Midge tugs at his hair, knowing that he enjoys it. Her breasts bounce against his chest with each thrust, her hardened nipples giving her extra stimulation.
Her moans are the sweetest music and Jaskier wishes he could record them - not for a song, just to have them for inspiration. Of both the creative and the alone with his hand kind.
Every detail of hers adds to the pleasure to the point of overwhelming him: her moans, the hand in his hair that makes his skull tingle, and those wonderful breasts bouncing against his chest - if someone wanted to hypnotize him, they could just show him that.
"A very dirty princess." How he's managing to talk, he isn't sure. Part of him wants to just his brain off, but his mouth is always bigger. "Taking my cock so well. So wet and so eager. You love being debauched, and I swear I'll keep fucking you so thoroughly that you'll come by just dreaming about me later."
Neither of them can stop talking. Despite that fact, they somehow manage to make this work.
“You think?” She grins. “Never had an orgasm in a dream before…”
Her words trail off as the pleasure grows, her moans echoing off the walls of the bedroom. Jaskier always seems to know exactly what to say to turn her on.
"Mayhaps I should wake you up with my cock then..." Another idea for the future.
When she says she's close, Jaskier adds another finger to her clit, rubbing as desperately as he thrusts into her. No matter how many times they do this, she always feels absolutely divine. "Then come for me, darling. Let me feel your delightful cunt swallowing me all. Let me fill you up."
For that final push, he buries his face in her breasts, sucking on them like a man dying of thirst.
Midge is quiet for just a moment before the orgasm explodes inside of her. Her back arches, pushing her breasts further into Jaskier’s face as her whole body shakes with pleasure. She feels like she’s floating on a cloud before coming back down to Earth.
She slumps back a bit but still clings to him, ready to feel him come inside of her.
When her orgasm hits her, Jaskier raises his head - it's a pity to miss her breasts, but he wants to watch her come. It's a gorgeous sight.
"Forbidden pleasure courses through my veins, as I'm trapped in her grip of orgasmic chains."
It only takes Jaskier a few more thrusts to orgasm as well. He buries his cock as deep as possible and his fingers dig into her skin as he fills her up, moaning Miriam as an explosion of colors goes off in his head. His mind floats in pure bliss and he wishes he could keep it there forever - to worry about the world outside is too troublesome.
His whole body shivers as his orgasm ends and Jaskier collapses on top of her, his nose looking for her neck to nuzzle by pure instinct.
I’ve been so tired these past few days none of my other tags are getting done but these
Only Jaskier could rhyme while on the brink of orgasm. Midge is glad to be coming down while he finishes so that she can watch him. The way he pushes deep inside her and says her full name as he comes makes her heart swell for him. Maybe she’s reading things wrong, but it seems like he has to be growing feelings for her. The two of them are more than friends with benefits. Midge allows herself to think of what that would be like. It wouldn’t be easy, but she think she’d be very happy. She hopes he would be too.
As he comes down from his orgasm, Midge brushes his hair back off of his face and kisses him softly. The two of them are finally quiet, just basking in the afterglow for a moment.
After so many fantastical orgasms and a few emotional moments that included tears, it's easy for them to just let the afterglow melt their brains and fall asleep in each other's arms. Their bodies fit so perfectly against each other, Jaskier wishes he could nap like this every day.
Years on the road with Geralt have given him a pretty fucking good inner clock. Most of the time he sleeps in because he wants to, but the witcher has trained him to get his ass off the bed pretty fucking early if needed.
That's what he does today - it's still dark outside, but the stars are already disappearing. Midge is sleeping so peacefully that he almost doesn't want to wake her up, but he's a man on a mission. If Midge stirs when he gets off the bed, he'll just whisper something about the bathroom.
It's obviously a lie, because it takes him thirty minutes to come back.
"Midge," he grabs her shoulder to gently shake her. "Wake up, darling. I have a surprise for you."
When Midge opens her eyes, she'll discover that Jaskier has stolen pajamas and slippers from a closet, and he's wearing them with the robe. Jaskier puts down the other robe and a nightgown on the bed, clearly expecting Midge to change too.
Midge is sleeping so soundly after their physically and emotionally taxing night that she doesn’t stir when Jaskier gets out of bed. She wakes to him rubbing her shoulder.
“Mmm, what?” She smiles up at him when she hears his words. “You’re up early.” After stretching, Midge gets out of bed and kisses Jaskier’s mouth slowly, again and again. Waking up to him feels so wonderful. “Good morning.”
Gosh, how is he supposed to resist those lovely kisses? He can't, he just can't. He wishes they could've woken up together and lazily kiss each other the whole morning. But again: man on a mission.
"Don't-" Kiss. "Distract-" Kiss. "Midge! We don't have much time."
While she puts on the nightgown, he puts the slippers on her feet - it seems he isn't kidding about being in a hurry. The robe quickly follows, and once Jaskier is sure it's tightly tied around her, he takes Midge's hand and drags her to the elevator. If she tries to ask any questions during the ride, he silences her with a kiss.
The elevator drops them on the last floor, and there, it's just a short set of stairs to reach the roof. The surprise becomes apparent as soon as Jaskier opens the door: he's put down a duvet (don't worry, they can wash it!), a pile of pillows, two glasses, the leftover wine, his camera, and the box of dirty chocolates.
"Oh, good, it hasn't started yet," he says while looking at the sky. New York is eerily quiet at this hour. "Come on, princess. Let's get comfortable."
Before he puts the robe on her, Midge picks up Jaskier’s shirt from the previous evening and puts it on over the nightgown. It’s comfortable and it smells like him. Then, she’s unceremoniously dragged from the apartment.
“Where?—“ His kiss silences her and after a few more false starts, she gives up asking, even if it is nice to kiss him.
Midge takes in the scene on the roof and smiles at him. “What’s all this? Oh, chocolate and wine, breakfast of champions.”
They get comfortable on the pillows and duvet, Midge curling up next to him. “What are we waiting for?” She asks, her eyes filled with excitement and mischief.
Seeing her wear his shirt is doing things to him. Thank the gods the robe goes on top of it; otherwise, he would've forgotten about the mission. Although maybe they didn't need the robes after all, because cuddling like this is extremely warm. Or is that his heart warming up in his chest? Hard to tell.
When Midge tries to ruin the surprise again, Jaskier pushes a chocolate into her mouth and pecks her cheek. Thankfully, they don't have to wait much longer: soon, the sky is filling with colors that only an artist like Mother Nature herself could pull off.
After all, Midge said she never watched a sunrise.
Next time she hopes he’s wearing one of his ruffle sleeved bard shirts. He might not get it back.
She’s never watched a sunrise like this, that’s for sure.
The colors appear slowly and Midge gets comfortable next to Jaskier with her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined. Hopefully nobody will find them up here.
"Sunrise, breaking / Is like a distant friend / Returning / From a long sojourn."
Jaskier rests his head on top of hers and wraps an arm around her waist, keeping her close so they can continue to share the warmth.
"Isn't it? You can't find colors like this on a paint palette." He remembers telling something similar to Geralt the first time he saw this over two decades ago. It's been so long, yet this kind of memory never fades. "I wish we could do this in the countryside. The birds sing to welcome the sun."
Midge always feels warm and safe whenever she and Jaskier cuddle. Her head fits perfectly underneath his chin. There’s no doubt in her mind that she’s falling in love with him. If that presents complications, she doesn’t want to think about them right now.
“We could,” she says. “A nice little getaway to the Catskills.”
She snorts at that. “So long as they don’t get sucked into a hair dryer,” she replies. “I wasn’t talking about Steiner though. Maybe we could rent a cabin someday.”
She might be getting ahead of herself. Even though she’s asked him to accompany her to Leah’s wedding, a weekend away sounds very much like something a couple would do.
Midge strokes her tongue against his, tasting both the chocolate and his mouth. One hand presses gently against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingers.
"So I get a private place where I can keep you naked all day long?" he asks in a teasing tone. "I don't know if my cock can survive so many orgasms."
Jaskier doesn't mind the idea, actually, because her family wouldn't be there. He sees it as the same thing they're doing here, but in a different background.
He smiles against her mouth, resting his forehead against hers when they break the kiss. "What is your hand feeling?"
He laughs. "Oh, I do. I haven't had a full sex marathon in years. Do you know how many times you can fuck in one weekend?"
His answer makes him smile widely, and he kisses her cheek. "I am, yes. Being with you helps me forget about the outside world. It's all spark and affection."
“I don’t…” Midge would have to think back to how many times she had sex on her honeymoon. It was quite a few. “But I’m interested to find out.”
“Anything troubling you?” she asks as she continues to stroke his chest. Perhaps he means that she helps him to forget the world in general, not that he has anything specific that’s bothering him.
"We can add it to our to-do list, then. Like waking you up with my cock." He hasn't forgotten about that bit from last night.
Is anything bothering him? The fact that he has to make a decision about the damn wedding. The fact he keeps seeing signs in her that flatter him but also scare him and he shouldn't encourage.
But he isn't about to say that aloud. Instead, he shrugs.
"I wouldn't call it trouble, just... it's been a few months, but this world is still a lot to take in. I've always known what to do with my life, so having to find my footing again is... a lot." He kisses the corner of her mouth. "When I am with you, I can forget about that. It's just me, you, and your marvelous tits."
He raises an eyebrow. "As lovely as it sounds, you think you can wake up before me?" It's clearly a tease.
Jaskier laughs, which is more proof of how good she is at distracting him with humor, too. "Mmmh, they do. And your mouth too. Because of the jokes, obviously." He winks. "You also seem to like my tits." Her hands are always on his chest - not complaining, though.
“Oh, I’m sure I can surprise you.” A sly smile forms on her face.
“Of course. Just the jokes. Not what else I can do with my mouth.” So cheeky. Midge kisses him again. “Your tits are wonderful. I think you know you have a nice chest, Jaskier.”
For whatever reason, the chest hair really does it for her too.
She's so cute when she's being sly and cheeky. Jaskier keeps up the kiss for longer, as if he could taste her wittiness. "Do I? I had no idea." More teasing, lots of exaggeration. "You'll have to remind me more often. Rub it a lot so I don't forget." He winks and kisses her cheek. "Teasing aside, I do like it when you pet me. It's very relaxing."
“I’ve noticed. You like it when I stroke your hair, whether it’s hair here…” She pats his chest. “Or here.” Her hand moves up to his head to stroke her fingers through his locks. “I’ve never been with a man whose hair is this long.”
It’s not the current style, but it works for him with his bard persona.
He hums in delight when she starts stroking his hair, proving every word she just said. The mention of the length makes him chuckle. "It's relatively new, actually. I only started to grow it a few years ago. I needed a makeover."
During bad breakups and mid-life crises, obviously the answer is a haircut. Or the opposite, in this case. But the point stands.
"But most of my life I wore it short. Head hair, I mean. The rest of my body has always been fucking hairy." He grins. "And you like it."
“I do like it,” she confirms. “It’s very masculine.” Hopefully he won’t take that wrongly. While Jaskier definitely has some feminine traits, Midge thinks he has masculine ones too, and not just the chest hair.
She gives him a gentle kiss. “I like all of you. A lot.”
Jaskier isn't offended, but he is surprised. His eyebrows go up. "That's a new one. Thank you."
Part of his brain does wonder if he should examine her statement further, but thankfully, she adds more. Jaskier is happy to return the kiss with a smile. "I like you, too, darling. It almost makes me feel grateful for that arrest."
“Of course.” Midge will happily expand on which traits of his she thinks are masculine. Jaskier has a courtly air about him. She knows enough to know that masculinity was a bit different back then. That being said, she’s also aware that Jaskier sleeps with men, and many men who sleep with other men tend to have feminine qualities. Midge thinks he happens to have a nice mix of both.
“Me too,” she replies. “I never thought I’d be grateful for going to jail, but meeting you was… a wonderful thing in my life.”
Her words are incredibly flattering, and they make Jaskier's heart beat a little faster. They also make him a bit nervous, because it's one of the signs he's been noticing and should be careful about.
Worried about his mouth saying too much, he takes the wine and drinks straight from the bottle, playing it off as just being thirsty. He even passes the bottle to Midge, glasses forgotten.
"I'm glad I could be something good in your life," he ends up saying, because his heart is a big traitor who refuses to let go of her. Jaskier can hear Geralt's grunt of disapproval in the distance. "Because it sounded like you needed it, considering your family. No offense." Actually, he means the offense, but gotta keep up the manners.
She takes a swig of the offered wine. Her smile fades slightly at his comment about her family.
“I love my family, even if they irritate me,” she replies. “I’m sure your family does things that annoy you too, but you still love them.”
Her parents mean well. Midge doesn’t think that they don’t love her or don’t want the best for her. Her idea of what’s best sometimes differs from theirs.
"Why, just because Yennefer held a knife against my neck and grabbed me by the balls?" He keeps his tone light, trying to redirect the conversation since it seems he's hit a nerve. "I think I've insulted her enough for that. Although I do miss coming up with new insults a little bit."
The smile returns, looking more like a smirk this time. “How dare she. Those are my balls to grab.” Hopefully he won’t take that as her sounding possessive of him. It’s just a joke.
“You can still come up with creative insults for her. I have a feeling that she can handle it - and will probably come up with a few of her own.”
Jaskier does chuckle at that, but he still glances at her and takes the bottle back for another swing while wondering how much was truly just a joke.
"Oh, we still insult each other all the time. I'm a slut, she's a demon, we're both bitches." He shrugs. "But they don't escalate anymore, you know? We used to be more cruel. And don't take me wrong, getting along is far better. I just miss wordplay with bite." He hums, almost lost in thought. "Maybe I should get one of those letter machine thingies, get on writing."
Midge has been intimately close with Jaskier for long enough to know when he’s uncomfortable, even as he tries to hide it. He’s probably still worrying about the wedding, and her words aren’t making it any better. She resolves to watch her mouth.
There’s a pang of sadness in her. Midge doesn’t like having to hide how she feels, but she also doesn’t want this thing between them to end. It might be difficult to just remain friends and she would miss him too much.
“A typewriter? Planning on sending an insulting letter to someone?” she asks. “I’m not an insult comic, but I could always give it a shot.”
He laughs while reaching for the chocolate box to put it on her lap so they can keep munching while they chat. Like she said: breakfast of champions.
"Insulting letters sound fun, actually; but not what I meant. I was talking about putting my poetry together in a book, maybe writing a novel. I had many books under my name back in my world." He tilts his head at her. "Give it a shot? You mean to banter with me? I don't know if I can insult you."
She picks up a chocolate boob and puts it in her mouth.
“Oh, I thought you wanted to be insulted,” she says with a laugh. “A poetry book sounds great though. You wrote novels back home? I guess none of them exist here. Have you considered rewriting them?”
They’ll be slightly different of course, but if they were popular where he came from, they might be popular here too.
"What I want is to come up with biting insults, and stories may be the outlet for that, be in poetry or prose." A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. "Like a narrator writing some truly scathing words for his lover's ex-husband." Just kidding. Maybe. "Having someone insulting me would be good practice, I do appreciate the offer. I'm just not sure I can be mean to you."
He takes a chocolate right before she asks her question, so he makes a so-so gesture with his hand to answer while he swallows.
"The serious books under my name were my poetry and my lyrics. Some essays. Then there was the anonymous stuff." His tone is ominous, his eyebrows waggle. "I mentioned that I hand-copied some books to make some coin during my teen years, right? Those were the forbidden things, the ones that no printer would take. Eventually, I wrote some of my own 'anonymous' stuff. Political statements, mostly, but there were a few romance novels. And they were raunchy." He grins and winks. "Men loving men, women loving women. And witchers saving innocent ladies - it was part of fixing witchers' reputation, since usually they were depicted as the villains in stories. I would read passages to Geralt while we camped just to annoy him."
He hums, considering her idea. "Mayhaps I should rewrite them. Gotta get the machine first. Learn how to use it."
Midge gives him a look and rolls her eyes playfully. If he wants to skewer her ex-husband in fiction, well, probably nobody will know that it’s supposed to be him.
“Why am I not surprised that you wrote dirty books?” Midge replies. “You might want to keep your pen name here as well.” Gay romances are still far too outrageous for the mainstream. “Oh, I’d like to be saved by a witcher. I know just how I’d thank him too.”
Wink. Geralt’s an attractive man, but Midge has no real interest in him. Maybe if Jaskier hears her talk about another man, it will ease his mind about whatever feelings he thinks she has for him.
The pen name thing leaves him thinking for a second. The tongue peeking out of his mouth shows it's a good kind of thinking, though - he isn't uncomfortable, the opposite in fact. He's finally got a plan, maybe he can find his footing after all. Jaskier is feeling more content, more secure. As for a pen name - not to start. Maybe later, to publish the dirty stuff once he has a sense of the industry. But first, he can do like home, sticking to the poetry and the lyrics.
He snaps out of it when she makes her witcher joke, and he laughs pretty hard.
"Who knows, maybe those fucking portals will drop another witcher soon and you may get your wish." It does ease his mind a little. "If you think my cock is nice, you should see Geralt's. As thick as the rest of him." He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "I bet his brothers are the same."
She’s used to Jaskier’s suggestive comments by now, but Midge still flushes slightly when he mentions the size of Geralt’s cock. She presumes he’s seen it when they’ve been out in the field camping together, but Midge once again wonders if the two of them ever had anything.
“I think your cock fits very nicely inside me,” Midge tells him. “Any bigger and it might be painful.”
So much for making him think that she wants other men. She’s terrible at this.
"You're picturing it, aren't you?" he asks while snickering. He kisses both her cheeks. "You're so cute when you blush."
Her concerns are valid, though, so Jaskier doesn't think anything of it. In fact, he grins around the bottle neck as he takes another sip.
"Too big may hurt a little, yes," he admits, clearly talking from experience. "But there's nicely big. With enough lubrication, it feels wonderfully full."
“How can I not be?” Midge asks with a laugh. Inadvertently, she picks up one of the penis chocolates and blushes harder before putting it in her mouth.
“Yeah, I’m sure, but you fill me exactly right. It’s like Goldilocks.”
Jaskier laughs at her choice of chocolate and decides to do the same to carry on the joke. He really likes it when she blushes.
Goldilocks isn't something he recognizes, no - but he draws the wrong conclusion from her comparison. Jaskier raises his eyebrows. "You call me out for writing raunchy stuff, but what have you been reading? Please do tell me more about this Goldilocks lad and their size preferences."
Midge snorts a laugh. “Goldilocks is a girl, first of all. It’s a story about a girl who sneaks into the house of three bears and uses their things. Some of them are too big or too small, too hot or too cold, but some of them are juuuuust right.” She looks up at him. “That’s your cock. A Goldilocks cock. Juuuust right.”
this is extra funny when you consider that book Jaskier is blond and curls his hair
Midge's very short summary is enough for Jaskier to recognize a cautionary tale for children, and her comparison makes sense. However, Jaskier completely loses it at 'Goldilocks cock'. The city is starting to wake up, so hopefully the neighbors on the last floor don't hear him laughing his ass off.
"A Goldilocks cock! It's flattering to be called just right, yet I'm sensing a joke at the expense of my cock in your next routine. How dare you, missy." He pokes her stomach just to tease. "Mayhaps I should write it first. Tell the real story of Goldilocks, the crossdressing man who got to try some different kind of 'bears'."
He's been picking some slang from Rainbow Road, oops.
‘Goldilocks cock’ might appear in a future routine. Midge cannot confirm or deny that at this time. She laughs at his reaction, her eyes crinkled with mirth. Midge loves making him laugh.
“What?” she asks. “What other kind of bears are there?”
"Oh, Midge, you have to listen to this, it's amazing. The community here - the kind at Rainbow Road, I mean- they have a full culture, and that comes with its own slang." He's gesturing a lot, a good sign that indicates he's excited about this. "Bears are big, burly men with lots of body hair."
He waggles his eyebrows. Yeah, he wants to write the raunchy version of Goldilocks. To help his point, he grabs a cock chocolate and sucks on the tip before eating it.
"There's something about 'friend of Dorothy', too? The girl with the lion on the gold road? I want to watch that movie, see what the fuss is about."
“Oh my God,” she says with a laugh, now that she’s thinking about Goldilocks and this version of the three ‘bears’. Should she really be surprised that Jaskier made it dirty?
“So is Geralt a bear?” You know she had to ask, right?
Midge furrows her brow. “Oh, I’ve heard of that before. They’re talking about ‘The Wizard of Oz’, but I’m not really sure what the phrase means.”
Maybe Susie knows? Not that Midge would ever ask her.
"I asked myself the same question." He replies without hesitation. "But I don't think he's hairy enough. I have more body hair than him! Ah, but since I'm not burly, that makes me an otter."
Jaskier grins during the whole explanation, really loving all the details and sense of community he's found here. It's a pretty damn good reason why he doesn't want to leave this world.
"Mayhaps we can watch it together and learn. Do you know how we can achieve that? I've been dying to watch more movies anyway, they're so amazing. And the musicals at the theatre! What an amazing concept they are."
“A what?” she asks. Midge is definitely picturing Jaskier swimming happily in a river, and the image is hilarious.
“It’s a classic movie, so sometimes they still play it in the theaters. It’s based on a novel, but the movie is better.” Thank you MGM for taking a book about the gold standard and making it into an entertaining movie. “I said we should go to a show sometime. You’d love it.”
"An otter!" He puts a hand under his chin and bats his eyelashes. "Am I not as cute as one?" Jaskier loves swimming, so her mental image isn't far off.
"Yes, please, let's do it one of these nights." He raises the wine bottle only to find it empty. He sighs. "I suppose this is a sign to pick up camp."
Jaskier stands up and helps Midge do the same, but he doesn't let go of her hands - he pulls her closer for a sweet kiss. "It WAS fun." He nods, smiling widely. "Glad you enjoyed it. Most people need to see all the kinds of beauty that hide around the corners."
As usual, Midge hates to part from Jaskier after such a night of passion, but she manages, and life goes on as usual. A few days later, Jaskier will receive a text.
I have a problem and I think I need your help. Well, technically Geralt’s, I guess.
Letting her go truly is very hard. Jaskier steals as many kisses as he can in the elevator and even while they change. They text throughout the week as usual, but as days pass, the deadline also gets closer, and Jaskier still doesn't know what he'll do about the damn wedding.
When Midge starts her next text with the word 'problem', he fears she'll bring the subject up. Reading the rest of the text sounds very ominous and for once, it makes him wish it'd been about the wedding after all.
Fuck, that can't be good. What happened? Are you alright?
I’m fine, but Joel thinks there might be some kind of creature in his father’s clothing factory. He’s tried the standard exterminators and traps, but we have reason to believe that it might be magical.
you're not meeting me anywhere you're staying at fucking home
You know he's worried when he's typing so informally.
we can't know if it's serious now but i don't want to risk anyone getting hurt without more information so yes evacaute something else you can tell me besides active at night?
sounds good - I know nothing about Witcher monsters
fuck miriam then text him as a heads up and stay where you are
That's all he says, because Yennefer is opening the portal now. Jaskier and Geralt are dropped in an alley so they don't get attention from the public, and have to walk a block to the factory.
When they find Miriam waiting by the door, they both curse.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Jaskier cries out while Geralt grabs Midge by the arm and growls- "Leave."
She might have already been there when they first started texting. Midge doesn’t even have time to respond to Jaskier’s text, to process him using her full name, when he and Geralt are already approaching her.
There’s a group of workers standing outside looking confused over why they were told to evacuate the building. They look equally confused and alarmed when the huge man approaches Midge.
Jaskier is right. Geralt can be frightening. Midge is stunned into silence, which is broken by another voice.
“Hey! Get your hands off of her!”
A harried-looking man has just come out of the building and he’s glaring at Geralt. The witcher is twice Joel’s size, but he’d still fight him if he thought he was hurting Midge.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Midge holds up a placating hand. “Joel, I texted them about the creatures in the walls. They’re here to help.”
Jaskier can guess who this is at fucking sight. He wants to hate the guy, he really does, but he also can't blame him for protecting Midge from creepy men. Brave of him not to cower under Geralt's icy glare, honestly.
"Send your workers home," Geralt tells Joel with another growl, then he makes his way inside as he unsheathes his silver sword.
Jaskier sighs as he rushes to get between the door and the crowd with his hands up. See, this is why he has to come along. Can't depend on Geralt's communication skills.
"Worry not, my good people! The mighty witcher has come to save the day! And you should listen to him - everyone-" He glances at Midge. "-must go home. We don't want anyone to get hurt, now do we? Even if the creature goes down quickly, there will probably be lots of monster guts left to clean. There won't be any work done today."
Perhaps tomorrow either, depending on what it is, but better not mention that now. Don't want to make the crowd even more nervous.
It's hard to keep his face neutral - Jaskier doesn't want to give the workers any funny ideas. But man, he really does want to smirk really hard at the way Midge takes control of her ex. In another context, he'd find it hot.
When Joel says he's responsible for the building, Jaskier nods, willing to compromise. And he does need someone who knows the place just in case.
"I can respect that." And that's saying a lot, because he doesn't respect Joel in any other aspect. Jaskier rolls his eyes at Midge's response. "I seriously doubt you can handle yourself against--"
He opens the door just enough to peek inside. "Update?" he yells at Geralt.
The answer arrives quickly. "Harrisi nest in the walls. Looking for access."
Jaskier curses under his breath before turning to Midge again. "I seriously doubt you can handle yourself against huge, poisonous spiders. Those fuckers are--" Suddenly, his eyes widen. "Fuck. Fuck." He looks at Joel. "The place is full of fabrics. The spiders will need fire. Please tell me you have the sprinkly thingies installed."
"I'm the bloke who brought the solution to your fucking problem." Look at that, two men can't drop all pretenses at the same time.
"They shoot poison. Geralt will most likely rely on his sword to kill them, but if there are too many of them, he may use fire soon. And the nest will have to be burned to avoid getting more." He nods his thanks at her. "Please go home. I don't want you to get hurt--"
At that moment, they hear a small explosion and a wall crumbling. It's then followed by Geralt's grunts and lots of screeching.
"...I guess he had to create the access."
Jaskier opens the door to take another peek, only for a very big and disgusting creature to try to jump at him. As Jaskier squeals and steps back, Geralt uses his hand signs to send a flame that lights the spider on fire. It runs around the room as it yells in weird noises, activating the splinkers. Now Geralt is a very wet wolf, but at least his magic fire is strong enough to go through the water drops.
Since the water is already out, there's no point in holding back anymore. Geralt decides to start using his hand as a flamethrower, only slashing the spiders with his sword if they get too close to him. Soon, the floor is getting slippery with a mix of water and green goo. Small fires keep catching everywhere and the sprinklers do their best to keep them out. Some fabrics are definitely getting lost.
Jaskier isn't taking notes, which is a miracle in itself, but he does keep an eye on the whole situation. Eventually, he forgets he has company and takes just a few steps inside, always eager to admire Geralt in battle. Half a wall has gone down and Jaskier wrinkles his nose in disgust at the sight of all the cobwebs forming huge cocoon eggs in the dark.
"How appropriate of them, to knit their web in the clothing factory," he says sarcastically.
Handling herself or not, Midge screams when the spider jumps at them. She runs back in disgust, only to watch with mild horror as Geralt sets the thing on fire.
It’s an absolute shitshow inside the factory as Midge and Joel argue about the situation. Just how long has this been happening? Has he been ignoring it? Joel groans when one of the walls goes down.
“There’s no other way to do this?” he asks in exasperation.
“I guess not,” Midge tells him curtly. “You need to call Moishe.”
“I’m not calling Pop.”
Midge puts her hand up to the chaos in front of them. “You don’t think he’s going to find out about this?”
The argument really gets on Jaskier's nerves, and he can clearly see where the divorce came from. If he were a more violent man, he would've slapped Joel already.
"If you have any ideas on how to fight poisonous spiders from another world, I'm all ears." His tone is clearly sarcastic, but not even in a joking way - just irritated. "Of course, I can just ask Geralt to leave the cocoons alone. I'm sure your workers would love the decor."
When he turns to Midge, his look softens a little bit, but it's still not the usual adoration in his blue eyes. He's serious. "You're not calling anyone until Geralt is done. I don't even fucking know why you're still here!"
Suddenly, Geralt lets out a painful groan. He's slipped on the mix of goo and water, and a spider used the chance to surprise him from behind.
"GERALT!" Jaskier cries out, and without thinking, he rushes inside.
Thankfully, this spider is the last one, and it's only caught Geralt by surprise because he had thought he was done. Geralt cuts its legs off with his sword before setting it on fire, too. But now there's a poison needle on his shoulder.
Jaskier holds on to the factory machines to avoid slipping, not caring about the water on his hair and clothes or the monster guts on his shoes. He reaches Geralt just in time to catch him before he collapses and puts that very thick arm around his shoulder to keep him steady.
A quick look around reveals everything is covered in poison or the various gooey substances from the spiders' bodies. Jaskier sighs before yelling at the duo by the door- "Can I have a damn clean chair so he can rest?"
“Does that matter?” Midge replies. “Around the clubs.” It’s vague, but better than telling him that she met Jaskier in jail.
Jaskier’s words sting, even if she presumes he’s just trying to keep her safe. She’s not leaving. She called them in and honestly, she feels like she needs to play referee between them and Joel.
When Geralt gets hurt, she watches Jaskier run to his side. After a moment of hesitation, in which Midge wonders how she gets herself into these situations, she follows. While Joel reluctantly goes to get a chair from his office, Midge sloshes through the water and monster guts to where the two men are standing.
“How can I help?” she asks. “Should I call Yennefer?”
Around the clubs. Ha! Jaskier would've snorted if he had heard, but all his attention is on Geralt. Which is also why he doesn't answer her question by telling her to leave again.
"Don't touch anything with your bare hands," Geralt tells her, shaking his head when she mentions Yennefer.
Once Joel brings the chair, Jaskier drops Geralt on it and rushes to find remaining pieces of fabric from the cutting tables. Geralt takes a gold potion from his pouch and drinks it before looking at Midge and Joel.
"I have to burn the nest," He points at the hole in the wall with his chin. "And find the sleeping queen inside. Are there pipes or cables in that wall I should know about?" Not wanna risk another explosion. "Is it connected to the neighboring building?"
When Jaskier returns with the fabric, Geralt removes the needle from his shoulder and crushes it with his bare hand - apparently he is allowed to do that, but not humans. Green goo starts coming out of the wound and Jaskier immediately starts cleaning it by pouring another of Geralt's potions on the fabric. He's gentle yet firm, and it's clear he's done this hundreds of times before. The world has disappeared and his attention is only on that fucking wound.
"Mayhaps you'll have to burn this jacket. I don't want it to smell around the house."
It IS starting to smell pretty badly in here, and it's only about to get worse.
The potion is already working its magic, and Geralt speaks again after sighing in relief. "We'll also need containers for the toxic waste. Can't throw these fuckers in the normal trash."
He doesn't want stray animal to feed on it, humans to get hurt, or worse - use it for nasty experiments.
Midge puts her hands out when Jaskier tells her not to touch anything. Maybe she should have listened before wading into whatever fresh hell this is. Both she and Joel are so stunned by everything going on around them that neither of them answer for a moment. Midge doesn’t know anything about pipes, so she turns to her ex-husband.
“No,” he says. “It’s not connected, but there should be electrical lines and water pipes in there. Do you want me to shut off the electricity?”
At the mention of toxic waste, both Midge and Joel look horrified. “I’ll— We’ll wait outside,” she says. “After Joel cuts the power to the building.”
Midge exits and sits down on an empty crate in the alley. She manages to get her shoes off without touching them, leaving them in a pile far away from her. They’re a total write off. Thank goodness they weren’t her favorite.
Joel joins her a few minutes later, his sleeves rolled up, tie loosened and collar open. He blows out a sigh and wipes his face. “Fuck me, Pop is going to have a conniption.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket.
“Give me one of those,” Midge says.
“I thought you were cutting back.”
“I am, but…” She gestures vaguely around them. This shit show calls for a cigarette. Plus, she’s worried about Jaskier and Geralt.
Joel lights two cigarettes and hands one of them to her.
Without humans meddling, they can work much faster, used to their routine after years of co-existing in each other's personal spaces. Once Jaskier has bandaged the wound, Geralt enters the nest, ready to end it all. Then the bard gathers boxes and buckets to throw all the bodies, which are sent to their house through a portal that Yennefer opens in the middle of the room.
Usually she doesn't get involved in hunts, but all the toxic shit IS pretty dangerous. Besides, it could be useful for her experiments. So she uses magic to gather every strange liquid in the room -from poison to crushed brains- and bottles it for personal use. The room is still a fucking mess that needs cleaning, but at least, it's a normal mess that humans can handle later.
It takes Jaskier a little over an hour to show up in the alley. He's wet from head to toes, he has taken off his jacket and his sleeves are rolled up, which means his shirt is sticking to his skin. He smells like absolute shit, and even his shoes are making squeaky noises as he walks. And yet, no matter how disgusting he currently is, he wrinkles his nose when he finds Joel and Midge smoking. Priorities.
Jaskier rests his body against the wall, keeping a bit of distance. He lets out a very tired sigh and watches the failed marriage for a second, taking them in before finally speaking up.
"The nest and the spiders are gone. Nothing dangerous of the magical variety is left. The pipes are fine, but some cables were broken on the struggle. So don't bring back the power unless you want a different kind of danger."
Giving her an hour to get ready and get to the pub is probably a good idea. Midge needs to obsess a little bit over her outfit. It’s a date, but the restaurant is casual and John is going to tell her a story that is best listened to while imbibing alcohol. She ends up putting on a blue day dress, which she accessorizes to the hilt. It’s nice without being too formal. After making sure that her parents can watch the kids for a few hours, she heads out.
As she walks the few blocks to The White Lion, Midge wonders what kind of impression that she’s going to make on him. She knows her dress is old-fashioned compared to what women from his time wear. Even if she thinks she looks good, he might think she’s outdated. Since she started talking to John, she’s learned a little bit about him and his team. The internet could provide all of the answers that she needs (what an incredible invention), but she doesn’t search too deeply. Midge will give him a chance to tell her about his past rather than to draw her own conclusions based on a Google search.
He’s waiting outside the pub when she arrives; he’s handsome. She is the picture of a chic woman, if that woman happened to be from 1960.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you look like your picture,” Midge says with a smile.
John will use the extra time to get ready himself. Not that he does much formal dressing up - a pair of dark blue jeans and a white, button down shirt - but he looks sharp, and that's all he's really going for. Bucky tells him where the pub is and he's on his way.
The first stop, of course, is to pick up some flowers for the lady. He's not terribly old fashioned, but he figures it's a nice touch she might appreciate. He still loses his bearings a bit when venturing out into the big city, but he finds the place without much trouble, if a little early.
He smiles when she approaches, and holds out the bouquet of colorful daisies. "You've got to look that part when you're all over the internet. You look amazing."
“They’re lovely, thank you,” she says, taking the bouquet from him. “Oh! I didn’t forget…”
Even though her purse doesn’t look big enough to hold it, Midge has managed to fit a small bakery box in it. She pulls it out and opens it to show John the cupcake inside. “Saved one for you.” She smiles. “Shall we?”
He opens the door to the pub and they find a table in a quiet corner where they can talk. Midge orders a pint of Guinness (when in Rome) and peruses the menu. “You look nice tonight too, by the way,” she says. What’s considered to be dressing up has gotten much more casual than it was in her time, but she takes no offense.
As they approach the table he holds her chair out for her, then settles across from her. His drink order matches hers. The menu garners some attention, but his focus is mostly on her and how fantastic she looks.
He blushes slightly. "I feel a bit too casual now. I hope you'll forgive me." Then he smiles. "I'll make it up to you by not telling anymore jokes."
She shakes her head. “I promise that I think you look good. Some men don’t need a suit to look like a million dollars.” Midge pauses as she turns her gaze back to the menu. “But I’m sure if you wore a suit, you’d look like two million.” As long as he doesn’t think she looks too old-fashioned, then she’s happy.
“I actually enjoy corny jokes,” Midge continues. “‘Dad jokes’ you called them. I don’t consider them comedy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t laugh at them.”
She's not too old fashioned. And if she is, he likes it. "I'll take your word for it. The only suit I get in anymore is my Avengers one." As for the jokes, he grins. "I don't have many dad jokes, but I warn you they're all terrible."
The menu is pretty standard pub fare, which is nice. It's reliable and that's good for a first date. God, when was the last time he was on a date?
She shrugs. “I like a good corny joke. The really dumb ones make me laugh.” As they discussed earlier, they’re not the kind of jokes she’d tell onstage, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t enjoyable. The more stupid a joke is, the more it gets her for some reason.
Midge has been on several first dates lately, most of which have been terrible. This one is already better than all of them. “You know, I haven’t had steak and fries in forever, so I think that’s what I’m going to go with,” she tells him.
Well, now he can’t resist. “Where do rainbows go when they've been bad?” He allows the beat, “To prism, so they have time to reflect on what they've done.”
He’ll be here all night, folks.
Their server arrives. “Steak frites for the lady and I will have the Shepherd’s Pie.” That done he relaxes in his seat a little, looking over at her.
Midge stares at him, her mouth contorting as she tries not to laugh. Eventually, she gives up and giggles into her menu. “So stupid,” she says, shaking her head.
The server brings their beers as well and Midge takes a sip. She hasn’t had a Guinness in a long time.
“It is,” she confirms. “My name is Miriam, but only my parents call me that. And my manager, sometimes.”
“I warned you,” he laughs, pleased at her reaction. He raises his glass to her, then takes a sip of his own.
“Miriam is a lovely name. Is Midge from childhood or something more recent?” He’s genuinely curious. He’s always been just John. Or Captain in various forms over the years.
Uh huh. It’s pretty clear to her that John loves making her laugh at his stupid jokes. It helps that he’s cute. Shit, when did she become a woman who laughs at a man’s jokes because he’s cute? Midge guesses she was always that woman because she did the same thing with Joel.
She really does enjoy a good stupid joke though.
“I picked Midge in high school because Miriam sounded old-fashioned. Midge is technically a nickname for Margaret, but I didn’t care. Do you have any nicknames? Ones from the military?”
He’s always been that guy, the friendly jock who gets along with everybody. Making a pretty girl laugh or smile? Never a bad thing in his books. And Midge is absolutely the definition of a pretty girl.
He shakes his head. “Nah, we weren’t that kind of group. I was Walker, or Captain, depending on who you were. My friends just called me John. These days it’s pretty much the same, except I’m not a captain anymore.”
He stretches out his legs a bit, a foot nudging hers. “Kids with their dad tonight?”
She wasn’t a cheerleader in high school or anything like that. She certainly didn’t date the quarterback. Jock guys didn’t pay her much attention and vice versa. Life after high school is very different though.
“Captain was your rank, right?” she asks. “Not just because of Captain America?”
When his foot brushes against hers, she feels a surge of pleasure go through her body. Instead of moving her foot, she leaves it right where it is. “My parents are watching them. That’s the one benefit of having them live with me.”
High school quarterback, captain of the back to back to back state championship football team. He was a star. Followed him into the army. It’s after the military that’s been tripping him up.
“My rank, yeah. Probably part of the reason being Captain America was so tempting.” Among other things, of course.
He looks at her thoughtfully. “I couldn’t live with my parents again. Great people, but we needed our own space. Then I needed mine.”
“Oh, trust me,” Midge replies. “It’s not easy, but we love our building and after Papa retired from Columbia my parents couldn’t keep the apartment anymore because it belonged to the school. Thus, they’re living with me for now.” Midge shrugs. “It’s free babysitting.”
She takes a sip of her beer. “People can still call you Captain then, right?” she asks. From her limited military knowledge, she knows that soldiers can still use their ranks after retirement. Maybe he wants to avoid it after the whole Captain America debacle.
Midge sits back, examining him. “Let’s see… I seem to recall a few other things in my cursory Google search about you…” She taps her chin. “Something about two medals of honor…”
She knows it was three but wants to allow him to brag a little bit. Purposely, she didn’t click on anything related to how he lost the title of Captain America.
"Free babysitting is great and all, but mine would drive me nuts." He loves them, of course, but he has no desire to live with them.
"That chapter in my life is over. I'm starting something fresh with my new team." At least, that's what he hopes will happen. "Back to being just John." Then he smiles. "Three medals of honor, but somehow, I think you knew that. Yeah, the army was good to me."
And he was good for the army. What happened after, well, that's where all the trouble began. His smile disappears thinking about that.
“They do drive me nuts. Daily.” But, as insane as they are, Midge is close with her family. There’s a distinct lack of privacy, especially when her kids are there too, but they’re making it work.
“Oh, was it three?” Midge pretends to look surprised. “Yes, that’s right. I did read that. First person to ever get three Medals of Honor.”
That’s pretty impressive. Midge wonders if it seems bittersweet to him now, especially as his smile fades.
“More like the other way around,” she says, inadvertently reading his thoughts.
"I'll give you props for that." John loves his folks, but to say he's close to them would be stretching it a little. He hasn't been home since he was eighteen.
"It's three." He's got a small smile back and he nudges her foot intentionally this time. "Yeah, it's not really all that important." Not for what he had to do to get them. "It was mutually beneficial. Until it wasn't."
She gets comfortable in her chair. This probably isn’t a good story, nor one that presents John in a positive light. Midge actually thinks it’s pretty brave of him to tell it on what is essentially their first date. Her plan is to try to listen without judgment until he finishes the whole story.
"The first thing you need to know is Lemar Hoskins. My best friend, on the football team with me, joined the army with me, we were stationed together, and he was the Battlestar to my Captain America."
He's clearly important.
"Our first mission was to take down a group of terrorists who had been attacking government aid camps and stealing supplies and we were getting our asses kicked. Turns out they had found a formula and were all super soldiers. We couldn't take them on and win. So when I found a vial of the formula I took it to even the playing field."
He takes a sip of beer and looks over at her. "You with me?"
That sounds risky. Midge doesn’t even eat Cheerios off of the floor, let alone take vials of what may or may not be a highly dangerous substance that you don’t know how your body will react to.
But, it sounds as if he and Hoskins were desperate.
"Okay." Another sip of his drink before he starts again. "We tracked them down and it made a difference. I could keep up with them, but there were too many of them. They had me down, dead to rights, when Lemar knocked their leader out of the way and saved my ass. He always had my back. And then she killed him with one punch."
He has to stop for a minute, face blank and eyes shifted well away from her face.
"They knew what they'd done and they ran. She got away. I chased one of them down and... I killed him. It wasn't pretty. It also was in the middle of the town square and a lot of people got the whole thing live on video. Government didn't like that part."
More back to himself, he looks back at her with a mirthless smile. "Got fired over that. Took away all my army benefits. Everything. No more Captain for me."
"I was very angry and in shock and the guy was still a terrorist who had earlier tried to kill me, so. The pieces just fell together." More beer now. And then he sighs and seems to relax a little, burden lifted in a way.
"You can look it up if you want. It's still out there. I'm surprised you haven't already."
It’s not great. Video of him killing a man as Captain America (which is not something she wants to watch, by the way). But, it’s not like the guy was an innocent bystander. Midge may not approve, but she can understand. That decision ruined his life. She won’t even ask him if he regrets it because surely he does.
“Thank you for telling me.” She wonders, briefly, if she ought to be afraid of him, though she hasn’t seen any of the rage that he says he exhibited in that moment. “After that, you… tried to move on?”
“Tried, yeah. I got a new job. Clean up. Given my skill set you can probably guess what that was all about. I don’t do it anymore. But it brought in income, which we needed when we decided to have a baby.”
Shockingly, the baby didn’t fix everything. Who knew?
“He’s amazing. I was still angry, mourning and probably depressed when he was born. I wasn’t the most attentive father. Olivia finally had enough and left me.” Because now that’s he’s told her the worst, he might as well cop to everything else. “It’s been rough. Not exactly a great catch anymore, am I?”
That right there is her cue to get out while she still can.
Midge shrugs almost imperceptibly, then takes a deep breath. “This isn’t the same by any stretch of the imagination, but I know what it’s like to think that you’ve done everything right and still lose everything. My ex-husband cheated on me with his secretary. That’s what ended our marriage.”
Not the same as killing someone while representing the US government, but that’s the baggage that she carries around.
John just shakes his head. “He’s a complete idiot. I don’t get people who cheat. Never did it to Olivia and would never for any other partner.”
Their food finally arrives, though he’s almost lost his appetite. Almost. He orders another beer and when it comes shortly after he holds the glass up to her.
"Footsies on our first date?" Yes, he knows he started it. And he can tell she's going to stay, at least for tonight. He appreciates it and offers her a genuine smile.
He just smiles at her. It isn’t until she mentions his dinner that he takes a good look at it. He samples and nods.
“It’s great. Nice little place you picked out.”
Their baggage matters. Just not maybe as much as they thought it would. Hers? A piece of cake as far as he’s concerned. If this gets serious, he’ll happily be faithful to her. He can be a jackass, but not in that way.
He’s pretty sure what he told her hasn’t really sunk in yet, and that when it does she’ll run. So he’s just going to enjoy tonight for the first date that it is.
Maybe it will sink in and maybe it won’t. John was a soldier who saw combat. It was obvious to Midge, even before tonight, that he’s killed people. The thing with the terrorist is different, but it’s all state-sanctioned killing at the end of the day. The government just said, “not like that”.
Point being, she was okay with him being a killer. It’s not great that he killed a man in a blind rage, and Midge will watch for signs, but she doesn’t get the impression that he would hurt her.
“Thanks. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.” She glances up at him. “What about now? Are you happy with the job you’re doing with the New Avengers?”
He'll believe it when she goes out with him again. Or maybe he won't. He's his own worst critic at this point. He's certainly learned well enough how to be one.
But he is a military man through and through, even if that part of his life is over now. He may not wear his dogtags like some people do, but he's still got them on his dresser in his room. Still, he's not proud of much of what he did.
"What, you don't bring all your dates here?" He teases and then nods. "I'm happy enough that I'm doing it. We haven't done much yet, but there's plenty of crime to stop."
“Only the special ones,” she replies with a sly smile. It’s really not a bad place for a date, though most of the ones she’s been on have involved jazz music and cocktails, or they’ve been after one of her gigs.
“I’m sure. How do you feel about funny housewives being arrested for obscenity?”
In spite of herself, Midge actually blushes a little when he asks that question. “I’m a good girl, thank you very much,” she replies cheekily. “But when I come from, some people are very offended when a woman says ‘fuck’ into a microphone.”
It’s not as if she’s shouting it in the streets. Saying it on stage at a comedy club patronized by adults only shouldn’t be illegal.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
It's dusk when she walks up the stairs of the subway onto the street. The sidewalks are still busy with people walking home from work or couples going out to restaurants. Midge has a gig at a club tonight, and even though she doesn't go on until 9:00, it's good to get there early, have a drink, and read the room a bit.
Her thoughts wander as she walks, and she doesn't even hear the sound of running footsteps behind her. All of a sudden, she's pushed and nearly falls to the ground as the purse is snatched off of her shoulder. Midge nearly stumbles in her heels and puts her hands out in order to maintain her balance.
"Hey!" she calls to the man's quickly retreating back. "HEY! Stop! That guy's got my purse!"
Never one to let grass grow under her feet, Midge takes off after him. She can run in heels, though not very well. Hopefully, she's made enough noise that one of the men at the end of the block can stop the thief for her.
Re: for Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
He heard someone cry out about a purse snatcher and wondered if this would be one of those nights where he wouldn’t make it in time.
Swinging from up high he saw the guy running at top speed with a woman chasing after him. Peter instantly knew that it was Midge, she was completely unmistakable. For a moment he was worried this might be too risky for his identity before he decided if she figured it out then she figured it out.
“Hey, I don’t think that goes with your shoes, pal,” Peter called out as he swooped down next to the guy. The snatcher had a second to be surprised before Peter webbed his feet to the ground. With a shout the guy toppled over, tossing the bag up so he could use his hands to catch himself before he ate pavement. Peter neatly caught the bag then webbed one of the guys hands to the ground then headed over toward where he saw Midge running.
“See, now I know this is yours because it matches your shoes,” he said, trying to deepen his voice a bit. Thankfully the mask muffled his voice somewhat.
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“Thank you…” she says in amazement as he hands the purse back to her. “You’re… Spider-Man.”
Spider-Man has been in all the papers, a masked crusader who is able to shoot web out of his hands and do incredible feats of acrobatics. Midge never imagined that she’d meet the guy, let alone be helped by him.
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“Or was it a model in a magazine? Wait, you were in Mademoiselle, right? That has to be it. Blue eyes as bright as yours you were on the front page for sure.”
Was he flirting with his girlfriend as someone else? Absolutely. Was he having a great time of it? Definitely.
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She looks down at the would be robber, stuck to the ground and now terrified. “What do we do with him?” she asks. “Wait for the cops?”
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“Oh, no, they call me that because, you know, the mask and everything,” he said, gesturing to his face. Honestly he wasn’t even sure if Jonah actually hated him or that it just sold papers. Actually, no, Jonah definitely hated Spider-Man.
“But it depends on if you want to press charges. He’s not going anywhere for a few hours but if you’re in a hurry and can’t wait around for the police he’ll probably just be let go. I can’t exactly stick around to give a statement.”
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The robber is pretty terrified now and Midge is enjoying having the upper hand. “I can wait a few minutes,” she says. “You and the police not get along?”
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“My mandibles are considered very handsome amongst my people I’ll have you know,” Peter quipped, stroking his face where the so-called mandibles might exist. For all anyone knew though he could have mandibles.
“They’re not a fan of people taking Justice into their own hands. Which I get, but… they can’t be everywhere, you know? At least the police don’t shoot at me much anymore.”
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If he’s going to flirt with her, then she can flirt back. “Mandibles and all.”
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The man on the ground tried to say something but with how his head was pressed to the concrete it was hard to tell what it was. It sounded a little derogatory toward Peter though.
“Sir, can’t you see I’m trying to get to know my new crush over here? Of you don’t want to hear this you shouldn’t have tried to steal.”
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She laughs lightly and shakes her head when Peter refers to her as his new crush. All the fear and adrenaline that she felt earlier when chasing the robber is melting away. “You should probably start with my name. I’m Midge.”
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"Midge, it's a pleasure to meet you even under these circumstances. Speaking of, how are you feeling? Not a fun time having your purse snatched, I imagine."
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Midge takes a deep breath and eyes the man on the ground. “I’m okay. A little shaken up, but, better now.”
At least she got her purse back and the guy didn’t get away. “I should probably go call the cops,” Midge says.
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Of course, Midge used good humor to work through her feelings which was probably akin to talking through your feelings with someone. Peter definitely used humor to deflect.
“But yeah. And I’d love to stick around but, you know, other citizens in potential peril and all that. You’ll be alright though?”
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“He won’t get free?” she asks of the robber on the ground.
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“Oh, no. The police will actually be pretty upset that he’ll be so hard to get free. But… stay safe and if you see me around give me a whistle, okay? Seeing the prettiest woman in New York would do a lot to brighten my day,” he added before he gave a salute then leapt into the air and swung away. A while 6 blocks so that he could land and change out of his costume and into his regular clothes so he could go see Midge at the club in a bit.
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“Oh! But then you’ll never guess who showed up. Spider-Man. You’ve heard of him, right?”
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“Wait, really? Of course I do, I take pictures of him all the time. He practically pays my rent,” Peter said, doing his best to look surprised but not too surprised at what she’d said. “Was he a menace like the Bugle says?”
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“But, I got my purse back. And he hit on me.”
Don’t be jealous, Peter.
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There was no doubt in his mind that Midge got hit on. Probably a lot. But he was entirely secure in the fact that she had chosen him. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a bit out of Spider-Man hitting on her.
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Harmless. She looks up at Peter. “Don’t look so glum. I can’t even see his face. I have no idea who he is.” Besides, maybe the guy was just trying to make her feel comfortable after the purse snatcher gave her a fright.
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He could have a hideous face though. Maybe that’s really why he wears the mask.
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“If I wasn’t so completely secure in the fact that you chose to be with me I might be jealous. Plus I can’t blame the guy for having good taste. Especially with his potentially six to twelve eyes he can see how gorgeous you are really clearly.”
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“Your eyes are the only ones I want seeing me naked,” she says softly.
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Now if someone was creepy or gross about it, then he would have a problem, but that was different.
"The only thing I feel is being lucky that I get to be with you."
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“Good because you deserve that. And I’m really glad you got your purse back and weren’t hurt.”
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“So am I. Spider Man’s not a menace.”
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For Peter Parker (powerandresponsibility)
She was at the bank depositing a paycheck when two armed men in ski masks stormed in. There were about half a dozen customers in the bank and five employees. The customers are all told to get face down on the ground, so of course Midge complies. While one of the men holds a gun to the tellers and asks them to pack all their cash in a bag, the other moves among the customers, seeing what he can take from them.
“Your purse, lady,” he says when he gets to Midge.
“Again?” she can’t help but whine. “I just got mugged two weeks ago!”
The man holds the gun up to her. “Turn over. Now!”
Midge does what he says, moving slowly. The robber gives her body a once over that makes her shiver in revulsion. “Gimme your purse and maybe that will be the only thing I take from you,” he growls.
Disgusted, she tosses her purse a few feet away from her. “Here you go, asshole.” Midge’s heart pounds in fear. She probably just sealed her fate with this guy, but she doesn’t plan to go with him quietly.
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First thing is he took out the guy standing lookout for the police outside and then let himself in through the roof access and crawled along the ceiling. He almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Midge laying there on the ground, some thug making disgusting comments about her. Really, they needed to have a talk about not antagonizing bank robbers.
"Really? I feel like asshole is too kind," Peter called out as he dropped from the ceiling, firing webs from each wrist that stuck to the robbers' guns before yanking the weapons out of their hands. "They serve a valuable function in the body. Unlike these two guys."
"You're the asshole and I'm going to murder you!" one of the guys yelled, pulling out a knife and charging at Peter. The guy swung the knife a couple of times and Peter dodged easily. The thing about knives is you had to be careful because it was so easy for the person using it to hurt themselves with it.
"Hey crush, I just have to check... you didn't organize this bank robbery as a way to meet you again?" he asked, turning to look at Midge as the guy continued to swing at him and he dodged effortlessly.
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Midge can’t believe that he’s actually flirting with her while one of the robbers comes at him with a knife. She stays still as a statue, wanting to help if the opportunity presents itself, but also not make the situation worse.
“Caught me,” she says, her voice wavering with fear. “You and I really need to stop meeting this way, Spider Man.”
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Asshole #2 pulled out a knife of his own and Peter figured he had better wrap this up before the guys started taking hostages. He grabbed the wrist of the guy fighting him and squeezed, the thug letting out a yelp of pain. With one hand Peter lifted the guy up by his jacket, shook him around a bit and then threw him to the ground, webbing the guy there. Picking up the knife, he handed it to Midge.
“Here, don’t say I never gave you anything. Just keep looking gorgeous, I’ll be right back,” he told her before hopping over to deal with the other thug.
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Midge watches as he makes quick work of the robber, and she’s got to say, even to herself, that Spider Man is pretty impressive. He doesn’t seem real. She’s happily taken, but this guy? Is pretty attractive.
The knife being suddenly handed to her catches her by surprise. Midge sits up and grips the handle of the knife tightly. If the other robber got past Spider Man and came towards her, he’d get a knife to the calf.
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Peter webbed the final bank robber to the ground and then made sure that the guns were all webbed together as well. He didn’t want anyone accidentally grabbing them or them going off on accident. As much as he would like to just flirt with Midge he didn’t want to risk anyone’s safety.
“Alright everyone, I think you can stand up now if you feel like it. If the floor seems like a more comfortable place right now that’s okay too. The police should be here soon,” he said, heading over to Midge and holding his hand out for the knife. From the way she was holding it she might be more of a danger to herself.
“So… how serious is it? Like… odds are decent that it might not last and you’ll be available?”
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A smile plays at her lips when Spider Man immediately resumes flirting with her. “Are you calling dibs?” she asks.
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"But you have to tell me where I can meet you if you're not going to keep getting caught up in crimes."
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“I, um… I’m a stand up comedian…”
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"Stand up comedian. I know you hear this a lot but I've got a joke you can use in your act. Wanna hear it?"
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“Let’s hear it,” she says, sure that it’s going to be a horrible joke. She loves bad jokes.
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"So, what do you think? Not bad, right?"
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She smiles at him. There’s something very attractive about him that Midge can’t quite put her finger on. She might be more open to his advances if she didn’t have Peter.
“I was going to invite you to one of my shows, but how will I know if you’re really there?”
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"Oh, I'll make sure you know. Just tell me where and give me a couple of times and I'll see what I can do."
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“You’re really not going to let me see your face?” she asks, trying to bat her eyelashes just a little. “How can I thank you if you won’t let me see you?”
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“But I need to head out before the police show up. Just some advice… if someone wants your money… just let them have it without insulting them, that just makes it worse. Mugging? Let them having it. Kidnapping? Fight like hell.”
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“Wait! I can thank you without having to see your face.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a light kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for saving me,” she says. “Again.”
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“Oh, you’re welcome!” Peter said, genuinely surprised at the kiss. It was completely chaste and he wasn’t jealous as “Peter” at all. Honestly if that made her feel better after all she’d been through then so be it.
“Definitely going to be taking you up on dibs,” he told her before giving her a bit of a salute and then jumping up to the ceiling. Instead of crawling though he stood up, walking backward like it was the most natural thing to do.
“Alright citizens, keep safe. Tellers, maybe get everyone some suckers, the adrenaline is about to wear off and the sugar will help. Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, out!”
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He had told her that he couldn’t make her show tonight because there was a presentation at the observatory he wanted to go to. Which was true, there was one and he wanted to go to it but he was also okay missing it.
Instead he had snuck into her dressing room dressed as Spider-Man and kicked up his feet while waiting for her. Sneaking in had not been easy but he didn’t want to risk someone recognizing him as Peter. But it was going to be worth it, having him sitting there and holding a bouquet of white carnations. Fortunately as Peter he’d sent or brought Midge flowers plenty of times so it wasn’t like Peter was one-upping himself as Spider-Man.
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Midge heads back to her dressing room after her show in order to change and pack up her things. When she sees the figure sitting at her vanity, she jumps and lets out a startled cry. When she realizes that it’s Spider Man, she smiles at him.
“How did you crawl in here?” she asks.
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“But see, I told you that I’d come.”
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Midge can’t believe that he actually came, in costume. Otherwise, she supposes she’d have no idea he was actually there.
“What did you think of my set?”
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“Only the best for you. And I know roses are usually considered the best but carnations actually last a lot longer so you’ll see them more often,” Peter pointed out. Entirely true and not something that he had told her as Peter Parker. He went with the more traditional roses or other flowers since he figured that was a little more what Midge liked.
“I didn’t get to really hear it tonight but I did another night. Not quite what I expected but it was really good.”
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Midge sits down next to him. “You came to another one of my shows?” she asks, surprised. Was it with his mask off? “What were you expecting?”
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“A lot more jokes about you being at the scenes of crimes for one thing. But I guess that’s just something you do for me,” he kidded her. Honestly he was glad that she hadn’t been involved in anymore but Spider-Man wouldn’t get to see her otherwise.
“I half expected you to get caught up in a gambling ring right in stage or something. Also, did not see the language and sex jokes coming but it was all really good.”
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“Thank you,” she says without any embarrassment about the content of her jokes. This is who she is. “I don’t think any criminals would dare to come near me with you around.”
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“You’re free to make some jokes about me. Probably best not to make it seem like you know me. I’d hate for someone to think they could get to me through you,” he said, which was a genuine concern he had. “But say whatever you want, couldn’t be worse than anything the Bugle says.”
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“Do you have enemies?” she asks. Midge imagines that most criminals aren’t fond of him. “My boyfriend works for The Bugle. He’s only a photographer, but maybe he can tell them to stop printing lies about you since you saved his girlfriend twice.”
She imagines that won’t really do much, but it’s worth a shot. Spider Man doesn’t deserve the negative press that he gets.
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"Oh, that's your guy? The one that takes pictures of me so that the Bugle has images to run for the horrible stories they write about me? 'Spider-Cad Flirts With Taken Woman'," he said, gesturing with his hands. That had been the headline after the whole bank thing. He actually found it really amusing, especially when he got to tease Midge a little as Peter.
"But no, that's not a problem. I mean like actual criminals I'm responsible for sending to prison."
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“That caused so many issues,” she grumbles. Joel had seen it too, and he had no idea she was dating someone. Of course he had a million questions. Her parents had a million and one questions. Despite the fact that she wants to be a famous performer, she likes keeping her private life private.
With how serious she and Peter are getting, Midge knew that introducing him to everyone was coming soon, but she wanted it to be on her terms.
“Is that why you stay anonymous?” Midge didn’t even think of that.
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“Oh yeah. It’s to keep my friends and family safe. And any potential romantic partners. Also the police would arrest me instantly if they knew who I was and where I lived.”
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“Is what you do technically illegal?” Midge asks. “Or are they just upset that you’re doing more to fight crime than they are?
“Do you have a romantic partner?” Midge has to ask, at least.
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“Mmmm, gray area,” he said, wobbling his hand back and forth in a “kinda” motion. Honestly he wasn’t sure about the legality or not. A regular citizen could stop a crime if they wanted, couldn’t they? It didn’t really matter because he wouldn’t stop if it was illegal.
“Romantic partner? Well I do have dibs on a drop-dead gorgeous comedian and that’s all I need right now,” he said, which was true. Peter had dibs on Midge, right?
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The corner of her mouth curls up in a smile. "You're content being second in line?" she asks. "I'd say you could probably take my boyfriend in a fight, but he's surprisingly strong."
Spider Man's body type is actually very similar to Peter's, now that she thinks about it.
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“Is he ‘lift a car’ surprisingly strong or ‘dodge a bullet’ fast? Wait if I fight him and win do I get to date you?”
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She laughs at the idea of Spider Man and Peter fighting over her, though the thought of two men fighting over her is delicious.
“You know, there’s something I find very attractive about you, but Peter’s such a swell guy. He’s very good to me.”
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“I’m sure he’s perfect acceptable,” he told her, sitting down in the chair before looking at her with chin hands. “Tell me more thought about how you think I’m very attractive?”
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“He’s more than acceptable, I can promise you that.” If he thinks that’s an allusion to sex, he would be correct. “You’re obviously bold in a lot of ways. Very confident. I’m sure you know that confidence is sexy.”
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“Sexy confidence? I’ll take that. Plus women like a man in a suit, right? Speaking of confidence… how is yours? I wanted to offer to take you for a swing sometime.”
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That long string he hangs from? Where is it even attached to? Can it hold the weight of two people? Midge is… dubious.
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“Just think about it. You can ask your slightly-more-than-adequate boyfriend, he’s photographed me carrying multiple people so it’s no problem.”
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Speaking in front of a crowd is much less terrifying for her than heights, especially heights where she's not standing on something or strapped into something. It's not that she doesn't trust him. It's just that he's really high up sometimes.
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“Just tell your boyfriend and he can get word to me one of the times he snaps my picture.”
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Why is she telling Spider Man this? Midge isn't sure, other than there's something about him that reminds her very much of Peter, and she's starting to put a few puzzle pieces together in her mind.
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“Speaking of being in your room, I should probably go. Crime doesn’t wait for me shooting my shot at my crush.”
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“You have to run so soon?” Midge bats her eyelashes at him.
It’s so tempting to tease him, to flirt harder with him, but she really doesn’t want to hurt Peter’s feelings, especially if her hunch isn’t right. If her hunch IS right… she has a lot of questions for her boyfriend.
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At least that was the story he told people when they asked how he got such good photos of Spider-Man. Really it was all with remote cameras and things like that.
"Well, maybe crime can wait a little longer if you're going to look that cutely at me."
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Midge is glad that he’s going to stay for a little while longer. That gives her more time to look for signs that Spider Man is actually Peter. The idea of it sets her heart racing for several reasons. Her boyfriend, a crime-fighting vigilante? He seems like a nerd, but that’s a good cover story. Plus, he seems very strong and she’s seen the muscles in his chest. Those aren’t the muscles of a nerdy scientist.
It also means that he has super human abilities. How he got those is unknown to her, though he did mention the industrial accident where Gwen died. Maybe something happened there to give him these abilities?
“Oh, am I cute?” Midge asks, looking at him very cutely. “I think I’m older than you. Do you like older women, Spider Man?”
She saunters up to him. Height-wise, he’s about the same as Peter is. This is the closest she’s been able to get to him, plus it’s easier to scrutinize him when she’s not terrified because she’s just been the victim of a crime.
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“But I doubt it. You’re what… 25 maybe?” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he began to pace around the room. And by around the room he meant he started literally walking up the walls and up to the ceiling. Midge was getting a little close for secret-identity-comfort. “Also, are the kids you talk about in your act real? You do not have the figure of a woman who has had two kids. But I like… available woman. Young or old.”
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“I’m 27 and my kids are real.” Midge puts her hands on her hips and looks up at him. “Are you trying to avoid me up there?”
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“No it’s just that I can’t look really cute what with the whole mask thing so I’m trying to be impressive in other ways. Also talking to people in the ceiling usually throws people off a bit. Like when you act extra cute when someone knows you’re attractive,” he said, moving so that his face was close to hers. Not so close that their faces were touching, but still close.
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It occurs to Midge that if Spider Man really is Peter, then things will be very different.
“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” That’s exactly what she’s doing. “I’m not trying to tease you. I think you’re very impressive. The mystery of who you are is killing me. Is it for my protection that I don’t know?”
If it’s Peter, will he ever tell her?
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“You know you wouldn’t sell my identity to the Bugle, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t. But I’m not… risk my entire life and freedom and the safety of everyone I know and love sure. And I wouldn’t do it just to satisfy someone’s curiosity. It would have to be something they deserved or needed to know.”
Not that that was the real issue with Midge. He had no doubt that she wouldn’t sell his identity out. But revealing his secret identity was a “I’m sure I want to spend my life with you” sort of secret. But he couldn’t tell her that as Spider-Man.
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Midge isn’t used to not getting her way, especially when she’s cute, but she can be an adult about this.
“Is there someone you love? A partner? I guess there isn’t, if you want to fight my boyfriend in order to date me.”
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“And it doesn’t have to be a fight. A race? See who can lift the most? High jump maybe?”
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“So the odds are stacked in your favor?” she asks. “That doesn’t seem fair. I think it should be two parts. The first part can be physical, but the second part needs to test how smart you are. Peter is brilliant.”
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"We can add a neutral third cooking round though. Wow, did I find the two men in this city that cook?" It's a minor miracle.
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“Okay so let’s say… pull ups, chess, and cooking? Winner gets you?”
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"Peter would have to agree to this too," she says. "I'm not sure if he will."
Risk losing her over pull ups and chess? Midge doubts he would take that chance. She's also not sure if she's really inclined to put her relationship and future happiness on the line for some contest for her affections.
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Peter was not sure how serious Midge was taking this. He was mostly meaning to be silly and maybe she was too. But she sounded like she was treating it seriously? He would hope she was happy enough with him she didn’t feel the need to risk their relationship on a bet like this.
“If he did agree I’d be seriously less worried about the chess game because he’d be stupidly to risk being with someone like you over a competition. But hey, if he’s up for it I am too. I’ve got nothing to lose.”
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She’s glad that it seems like he wasn’t serious about the contest anyway. She has a say in who she wants to be with anyway.
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“Oh, we can still hang out though, right? Just because we can’t date right now? This is… fun. I don’t normally hang out with anyone like this.”
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“Before you go, I was wondering if you’d be willing to indulge me,” Midge says. “I’m curious about what your web feels like.”
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She approaches it and gingerly touches the web. It sticks to her finger as she pulls it back, leaving a trail. “What is this stuff?” Midge asks, making a face.
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“It’s webbing,” he said, which was technically correct, which was the best kind of correct when you were trying to hide a secret identity from you girlfriend but felt bad lying to her too much.
“But don’t worry, in about two hours it will turn to dust, if you really need that hairbrush before then… you can cut it, but it’s pretty tough stuff.”
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“Do you know what all your bodily fluids are made of?” He asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched her play with the webbing. It wasn’t actually a bodily fluid but he wasn’t actually saying that it was. Besides, if he rattled off all the chemical compounds in it, that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to her anyway.
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“So you make it? Like… spit?”
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She looks up at him hanging from a line to the ceiling.
You only live once, right?
“You promise that web can hold more than one person?”
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“You can ask your boyfriend if you want, I’ve carried multiple people on it, some of them a lot bigger than you. It can definitely carry the two of us,” Peter explained. Several times he had to carry multiple people to safety at a time so having Midge with him wouldn’t be a problem.
“I won’t even go high or fast or do any flips or anything. Cross my heart.”
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She trusts him though. Spider Man won’t drop her.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s do it. Do we need to go up to the roof?”
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“No. But I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes at the side of the building? I promise, just a quick swing around the block then I’ll have you back.”
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“Okay,” she says, more confidently than she feels. “Yep. See you in a few minutes.”
5 minutes later, she’s down in the alleyway beside the club, waiting for Spider-Man. Why did she volunteer to do this in the dark? Midge keeps telling herself that it’s going to be fine.
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So after sneaking out of the building onto the roof he gave a dramatic leap from up top to land dramatically in front of Midge. But a ways away in an attempt to not startle her.
“Okay, so once around the block?” He asked, making a circling motion with one finger as he walked up to her. “And I promise not to go too fast.”
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“Right,” she says with a nod. “Okay.”
Midge moves next to him and looks at him for a moment. “Um, should I…?” She presses up to his side and puts an arm around his shoulders.
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Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and leapt forward and up into the air before firing off a web-line to the roof of a nearby building. Yanking them up and forward to get some altitude he shot another web-line up, this one high enough that they could actually swing on it, the ground rushing closer and then away as they moved from the bottom of the arc up to the top before he shot another web.
“So what do you think? Amazing, right?” He called out as they swung.
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Midge tried not to scream, but she couldn’t help it a few times, especially when they neared the ground. She clung to Spider-Man, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
“It’s… don’t drop me!”
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“Okay, okay there we go. Back on the ground. Fun, right?”
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“It was… not that bad, actually.”
Midge isn’t sure if she’d use the word “fun”. It had some exhilarating moments, that’s for sure.
She keeps her arms around Spider-Man’s neck. “You do that so easily.”
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“Well that was taking it really slow so it probably seemed really easy,” Peter told her, mildly bragging. It was only a mild brag though because he was being serious, he had been taking it slow. He also noticed that Midge was still hanging close to him.
“But you did really well for your first time.”
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He’s still holding her and feels an impulse, one that she doesn’t fight for some reason. Leaning in, she presses her lips to approximately where his lips would be on the other side of his mask.
Midge pulls back quickly, putting her fingers to her mouth with a gasp. “I… I’m sorry.” She moves out of his embrace. “I-I should go.”
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He was just going to assume that she knew he was Spider-Man and was giving him space to tell her in her own time. Or something. He just wasn't going to think about it. Nope. Nope. Nope. No need to think about it because she apologized and... just not thinking about it.
"Yeah, yeah I've got to... fight my hair. Wash crime. Fight crime then wash my hair so... busy night. I'll, uh, catch you later?" he said, knowing full well that unless Midge was robbed again he was absolutely going to avoid seeing her again as Spider-Man. Without waiting for an answer he gave a wave and ran a few steps then leapt high into the air and started to web-swing away. Maybe he could find a high speed robbery to take his mind off things?
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Midge watches him go with a worried expression on her face, then goes back into the club. If Spider-Man really is Peter, then she and him have a lot to discuss.
For Rene Courfeyrac (thepaladin)
Agreeing to go to dinner with Courfeyrac is, in some ways, a joy, and in other ways, a capitulation. He has an ability to wear a person down with his inexorable charm. Midge likes him, genuinely, but she’s not sure if she can trust him, not with information and certainly not with her heart. She’s not involved with whatever leftwing dealings he and his friends get up to, and she doesn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. He wore her down about dinner and she agreed. If nothing else, she’s sure she’ll enjoy their conversation and that the food will be delicious.
Midge is purposely wearing a red dress that makes her look like an absolute knock out. It’s a little bit of a tease and a little bit of a promise. Which one it ultimately ends up being will be up to him and how the night goes.
When he arrives, her parents have to meet him, because such a thing is unavoidable when your parents live with you and they’re nosy about your personal life. Rene and her mother fuss over each other in rapid fire French, during which both of them end up looking at Midge and nodding. Midge wonders if she’s just been sold and for how many francs. Her father is very much not a Francophile, and so Rene switches to perfect accented English to speak to him about some of their mutual acquaintances at Columbia and The Village Voice. Both of her parents seem impressed. Midge had told them earlier to not get too attached. It’s just dinner.
She’s able to hurry Rene out the door as they head off to start their evening. Midge lets him escort her, her hand on his arm.
“What were you and Mama saying about me?” she asks.
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Midge is special, though—not because their flirtation is serious, but because they’re turning into friends. And in Rene’s book, that’s far more important.
Once the door shuts behind them, he lets his polite smile turn briefly into a playful leer as he looks her up and down. “She was telling me what an excellent hostess you are and that your chiffon cake is divine. I’m not sure I believe her on the second one, though.”
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Then again, he’s looking at her like he wants to devour her, so maybe her assumptions aren’t that far off.
“If you think that’s going to get me to bake you a cake, then you’re wrong,” Midge says with a smile as the two of them exit her apartment building. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
Guess who went down a rabbit hole about French restaurants that existed in the late '50s
I love that
He helps her into the cab and then gets in on the other side. When he tells her where they’re going, Midge’s lips can’t help but form a little o of surprise.
“I’ve never been there,” she tells him, “but I’ve heard it’s excellent.”
It’s one of the hottest restaurants in New York. How was he able to get a reservation so quickly?
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And he loves it, too. In fact, he'd found finding a way to get a table at one of the best restaurants in Manhattan almost as enjoyable as eating there.
Now, he allows himself a smile of triumph. "Well, I did promise you a special night. I would hate to let you down."
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“I didn’t know I was that special,” she says as the taxi takes off down the street.
She’s still not sure if she’s anything but a conquest. Time will tell.
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He rests his arm on the back of the seat behind her, lightly drumming his fingers as they speed through New York City traffic. "Have an interesting week?"
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They can have a frank conversation over dinner. Midge pulls no punches.
“Not too interesting, unless you count my son going to school in his Howdy Doody costume without any of us realizing it before it was too late,” Midge replies. “How about you?”
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uniform, yes,” Midge replies. “Everyone thought everyone else was helping him get dressed. Turns out none of us were.” Life with kids.
“That’s kind of you. I hope you’re not going to charge him rent for a sofa, though New York is a place where you could get away with that.”
The taxi drops them off outside of the restaurant and Midge puts her hand on Rene’s arm as they walk in. Time to see him work all of his social angles.
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Midge’s children are, at best, an abstraction to the young man. Their existence has never been a surprise to him, and he doesn’t see them as an obstacle to his flirtation. But to him, they are anecdotes more than people, and stories more than dependents. He certainly doesn’t think about what motherhood might mean to Midge.
He takes her arm as they leave the cab and walk to the restaurant. “Naturally not! What do you take me for?” he says, mock-offended, and then turns to the maitre’d. “Reservation for Rene Courfeyrac, Monsieur.”
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Midge loves her children but feels like a terrible mother quite often. She’s out most nights of the week, so she’s not there to tuck them in to bed or read them stories. She loves them, of course, but she loves her career too. Balancing both of them is a puzzle that Midge hasn’t solved yet.
“An entrepreneur?” Midge asks jokingly. The maître’d leads them to their table, which is in a quiet little corner of the restaurant. Midge wonders if that was planned too.
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Once he’s gone, Courfeyrac peers over the menu with a smirk. “Well, isn’t this terribly romantic.”
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She glances up at him over the top of her menu. “Is that what you wanted?”
Midge has no idea what he wants and it’s quite frustrating. All signs would point to him trying to woo her, but to what end remains a mystery. If he wants to fuck her, he should just say so.
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Her eyes drop back to the menu. “I’m going to let you pick the wine,” Midge says. No point in arguing with a Frenchman about wine. “A red, please.”
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Despite her mother being a Francophile, Midge’s own knowledge of France is limited.
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Settled on what she wants to order, Midge puts the menu down on the table. “Why don’t you believe in nostalgia?”
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He folds his hands in front of him and leans forward slightly. “Because nostalgia is a trap. It tempts a person to long for the past when they should be looking towards the future. See here, ask anyone who says ‘things were simpler back then’ when, exactly, ‘back then’ was, and their answer will inevitably encompass the time they were a child. Quod erat demonstrandum, the world was simpler because they were a child, not because it was in better in some measurable, objective way.”
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“Aren’t you a philosopher?” Midge teases with a smile. “What if it’s not about things being better or simpler, but just about wanting to return to a time when you were happy? Being an adult isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
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Courfeyrac is briefly interrupted when the wine comes, transforming into someone polite and mannered as they go through the ritual of tasting and approving the bottle.
Then he's back at it. "Besides, not all childhoods are pleasant, even those that people may remember fondly."
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“I haven’t thought about that,” Midge says. “If I’ve ever made decisions based on my childhood happiness, I certainly didn’t realize I was doing it.”
She raises her glass of wine to him. “What are we drinking to, Monsieur?”
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He swirls his wine around, considering. “How about this-“ he holds out his glass, “to devestatingly charming new friends.”
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“Freud would also say that you want to fuck your mother and that cocaine is good for concentration.” A wry smile. “Do you think the American government is nostalgic for twenty or thirty years ago? The war? The Depression?” Not particularly happy times in the history of this country.
cw: mention of antiblack violence, outdated language
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“I hope Kennedy doesn’t want that,” Midge says quietly. “Otherwise, I’ll be upset that I wasted my vote.” She brightens slightly. “Did I ever tell you that I made Jackie Kennedy cry once?”
It’s hopefully a change of topic without making it completely obvious that that’s what she’s doing.
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But tonight, he is trying to charm Midge, so he takes the hint.
“I think you may be more optimistic than I am about what a millionaire from Boston can do with the presidency, but I sincerely hope you’re right, cherie.”
All right, he mostly takes the hint.
But he lets the subject shift, raising his eyebrows. “And here I always assumed she was not allowed to cry, or show any emotion besides placid contentment. What did you do, Midge?”
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She finds that she likes the way that he says her name. With his accent, it sounds like ‘Meege’. “I made several jokes about unfaithful husbands that must have hit home,” Midge says with a raise of her own eyebrows. “Not my intention.”
The waiter returns to take their order and Midge goes first. “Coq au vin.” Yes, it has bacon in it. No, they’re not going to discuss that. Be glad she didn’t go for the steak, Rene.
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As for dinner—well, Courfeyrac doesn’t know a damn thing about Kosher dietary restrictions and doesn’t blink an eye at her order. “Contre Filet Roti, s’il vous plait,” he says, because he is a show-off.
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“It wasn’t!” Midge says, her face full of indignation. “I mean, it wasn’t my intention to make her cry.” Jokes are always intentional. She gives a shrug at his question. “Susie knew somebody and they wanted a comedian for the fundraiser. The guests were all women, so…” Clearly, she was the best choice.
“How did you end up in the United States for law school?” It’s something she’s been wondering about for a while.
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Midge thinks it’s pretty optimistic of him to want to change the world so radically, particularly starting in the United States. Anti-communism is strong here, and most uneducated people lump socialism in with communism without a second thought.
“I think I’d rather be in France,” she says. “Is it true that the French don’t like Americans?”
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Still, he speaks without rancor, and at her question, he laughs. “Why shouldn’t we? You are all far too loud and you have absolutely no taste,” he teases. “But in all honesty, I don’t think most people care that much. They dislike tourists, perhaps—but who doesn’t?”
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“I don’t like tourists either,” she agrees with a shrug. “So you plan to stay here after you finish law school?”
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“I hate peas,” she says, her tone as if she’s imparting some great secret to him.
If he wants a real answer, he’s going to have to deal with a few stupid ones first.
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Technically, both of her admissions are true. Fortunately, she reads other papers as well.
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She settles back in her chair and looks at him for a moment. Her gaze turns to her wine glass on the table.
“I was actually pretty devastated when my marriage ended,” Midge tells him quietly.
On stage, she’s a pretty happy divorcee, and ultimately it was the right decision to make, but she was completely blindsided and lost when Joel cheated on her.
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Maybe this revelation will help Courfeyrac to understand why she’s hesitant about taking things further than dinner. She doesn’t want to be made a fool of again, even if it is just sex.
Midge takes a long drink of wine before speaking again. “Anyway… that’s something you probably didn’t know.”
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Courfeyrac’s smile is giving her a similar rush, and she hates that. He’s too smug. She can’t give him what he wants. And yet it feels like he’s dismantling her defenses brick by brick.
“Do you feel that way when you’re in court?”
For Alfred Pennyworth (flippin_peachy)
I guess I shouldn’t tell her how much I love it when you put your head between my legs.
thank you for moving <3
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Or maybe she can just be happy for her daughter that she’s getting off so much.
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I wouldn’t worry too much about it.
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I hate that kind of stuff.
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Otherwise I’d probably have already put a spell on you to make you want to take care of my every need.
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You don't need a spell for me to do that, luv.
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I’m pretty sure you’ve cast the same spell on me too.
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It's probably one of the more sane things I've done in a while.
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Bet you wished she was me.
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I don't want your breasts going through that kind of treatment.
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No denying that Foggy spruces himself up before arriving slightly early for Midge's set. He's combed his hair and swapped a tie (one of Matt's because Foggy has no shame and he thinks it will help bring out his eyes). He's made certain to find a spot that isn't directly under a light, posted up at the bar with a neat whiskey throughout, and as good of an audience member as a comedian could want. He's an easily jovial man, after all, a trait that runs through the Nelson family as commonly as the blood in their veins.
Watching Midge, he can't help but amuse himself with how strongly he imagines she would command the courtroom floor. Humor is not always welcome, no, but a person who relies on humor knows how to improvise, how to read the room, and they're often as well-read as any academic, especially if they're trying to keep their jokes contemporary.
Just another reason he thinks maybe this setup isn't the worst, and part of why he's come at all. Matt is a decent wingman, yes, but he's also stupidly romantic. He's convinced more than anyone that Foggy needs someone who cherishes him and treats him like gold, but Foggy thinks that's a little bit of an overzealous ask in the real world where flaws are not so easily ignored because of a long history of solidarity.
He expects to be called out at some point, perhaps targeted for some witty repartee, but the end of the set rolls up and he's relieved to not have to go toe-to-toe with someone so objectively hilarious and sharp. The day will come — it always does — but for now he remains somewhat secure and thankful for not having been elegantly eviscerated by a woman who smiles so sweetly. Wholesome, she is not, but that only excites Foggy because he's not as wholesome as he looks, either.
"That was incredible," he tells Midge. Upon her approach, he gestures to the bartender who slides over her drink of choice. Foggy has his third whiskey — this is a few less than he might have usually gotten through — and he's flushed and all smiles between that and the laughter from the night. "You're legitimately the funniest person I've met, hands down. No lie."
Thank you for starting this!
From the stage, Midge can see Susie lurking in the smoky background, as always. She looks for Foggy and is pleased to find him at the bar. They’ve only met briefly before, at the law office when she was visiting Matt. Tonight will be their first chance to talk and Midge is looking forward to it.
There’s no denying that Matt is an attractive man, both good-looking and extremely charming. How could Midge not hit on him? She imagines that in Foggy’s friendship with Matt, he frequently gets overlooked by women who zero in on Matt’s good looks, charm and blindness, which probably makes a lot of women want to take care of him. Never mind that Matt seems extremely competent and neither needs nor wants to be coddled. It must be frustrating for Foggy. Midge, being objectively beautiful, doesn’t have that problem, but she can empathize. Looks aren’t everything, and she needs someone who can match her intellectually and appreciate her humor. If she’s not Matt’s type and he’s not interested, she doesn’t blame him for suggesting his friend instead. And honestly, he might be on to something.
Midge typically doesn’t do a lot of crowd work with her sets, and she certainly wouldn’t call out someone who she has yet to share more than pleasantries with. After she leaves the stage, Midge makes quick work of Susie by telling her - of all things - the truth. Her manager can’t complain though. They’re done for the night and they’ve both gotten paid. Foggy hopefully won’t see the side eye Susie gives him as she heads out the door.
There’s a grin on Midge’s face when she approaches Foggy at the bar. She thanks the bartender for the martini waiting for her when she sits down. Foggy’s praise is almost excessive in Midge’s eyes and she actually blushes.
“Oh, come on. Have you had too many of those?” She gestures to his glass of whiskey.
You're most welcome! <3
"No, no, I'm serious." He defends his stance by setting aside his drink and pressing his hands together as if that says I swear. "I admit I haven't seen a lot of live shows like this one, but I laughed so hard I thought I was going to pee myself."
Standing from his stool, he smoothes down his tie and jacket and then offers his arm to her, not unlike he would Matt. Predictably, he's fine on his feet, ever bit the same amount of grace as when he'd walked in sober. He's used to this — he's done it a lot — and as unfortunate as it is to be a functional alcoholic, it means he keeps his wits about him for a hell of a lot longer than most.
"That looks quiet enough," Foggy notes to a table along the wall. He hadn't missed Susie — short and menacing under her cap — and is relieved to see he won't have to pass her in order to get them somewhere more private. "Are you hungry? Should I try to find us something better than pretzels or peanuts? If I was smarter about this, I would have come with some sandwiches stuffed in my pockets."
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Midge takes her martini in one hand and Foggy’s arm in the other. He’s secreting her off to a private corner, and she doesn’t blame him. It’s not as if he has to twist her arm to get her to go with him.
She sits across from him, but the table is small enough that it still feels intimate. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Midge replies to his inquiries about food. “Sneaking sandwiches into a club though, that’s a good idea. My father does that when he goes to the movies.”
Holding her glass up to him, she gives him a smile. “L’chaim. I’m glad we have a chance to get to know each other.”
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"L’chaim," he responds, tipping their glasses together. He's certainly done that enough before that it comes easily. "And sláinte," Foggy adds, glad to offer something of himself in return, reminded instantly of tipsy family gatherings and messy toasts.
When he sips, he does so carefully. This is a man hoping not to get too drunk, and now that they've sworn off food he knows the risk of having just a bit too much.
"So, what's a typical night look like for you after a show like this?" Foggy's curious what she would be off to do instead, whether she would have been heading home or going out to seize the night life for its connections and humorous offerings.
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“Sláinte,” Midge replies, clinking her glass against his. Cultural traditions satisfied, she can answer his question.
“It depends on which club I’m at and what type of mood I’m in. Sometimes I hang around and have a drink. Sometimes I go home. Rarely, I have a handsome man meet me here and have a few drinks with him.” She smiles. “Every once in a while, I go to the diner at the end of the block for pancakes.”
If Foggy feels uncomfortable and needs to get some food in him to counteract the alcohol, Midge would want him to eat.
“Did you grow up here?” she asks.
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To her question, he nods. "I did, yeah," he says. "Born and raised, as they say. Hell's Kitchen for life," Foggy adds, pumping a fist with a self-deprecating laugh. As much as he loves Hell's Kitchen, he knows it often gets a black eye for everything that goes on there.
"Matt and I lived at the dorms when we were in college. The day I moved back, I was so glad to get out of Manhattan, I drank myself stupid doing the bar crawl from the deli down to where my folks live. Needless to say, I did not make it home. When I woke up I was in a speakeasy that I swear wasn't there when I went back. Or maybe wasn't there when I left and I'd just gotten drunk in some person's fancy parlor."
Once more, he lifts his drink as if to acknowledge both the brilliance and the stupidity. "Come to think of it, that night started a little bit like this..." He fixes her with an appraising stare, perhaps a bit challenging in its own right.
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“Oh so you’re that guy my parents found in the hallway of their building that time…” she jokes. Midge raises an eyebrow at Foggy, not sure what he's challenging her to. “You… want to hit every bar between here and where my parents live?”
That happens to also be where she lives. And where her kids live. Somehow, she thinks sloppy drunk is not the first impression he wants to make on the rest of her family.
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"I'm just saying, with the Full Foggy Experience, there's really no telling what we could get up to." Of course, Foggy does have a job to get to in the morning, but that's never stopped him from having fun, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning, often while chasing the bottom of a bottle. "Lady's choice, of course," Foggy adds. If that means karaoke or a stop at a diner or finding a night market, then he's game. As he gets older this becomes more difficult, but it certainly hasn't stopped him from having a good time.
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“You’re the sort that likes to go on an adventure, aren’t you?” Midge says with amusement. She’s rather used to the typical bars and restaurants and clubs, but she could be open to something different. “You know,” she continues, “I’m kind of in the mood for pancakes.”
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To wit, he tosses back what's left of his drink in one go and stands, offering his hand. He is, by all rights, the most fiddly and overworked "lazy" man, who expresses his leisure with boundless energy. It's not unlike burning the candle at both ends, except he's just holding two flame to the middle.
"I'm an ad-libber. I can plan ahead, but I do my best work on the move." Even in the courtroom, it's when he tosses out his prepared words that he makes the biggest impression.
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Similarly, she downs her martini, then takes Foggy’s hand and stands up. “Just let me get my coat and purse,” she tells him before disappearing into the employees only part of the club.
She returns with her coat, hat and purse about five minutes later and puts her hand on Foggy’s arm. “Alright,” she says. “Take me on an adventure.”
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Her wit is sharp and quick but Midge he finds possesses a softness that appeals to him. She doesn't spare he mind, but when she speaks it's for other people as much as herself. New York has always been on the forefront, but in recent years Foggy has not felt the same pride in the city as he once had, especially seeing how resistant some are to the changes around them.
People simply ask to be counted and seen, but those with the most always resist.
At times Foggy feels he's part of the problem as a member of an elite class of paid consultants who value connections and money over ethics or morals, but even within his own peer network he's known for promoting good work over anything else. In fact, Marci Stahl, one of the most successful lawyers in New York, happens to be not only an ex of Foggy's, but also one of the loudest voices of feminism in the industry. When Marci succeeded, Foggy stood behind her, not in front. He vocally approved of her skills the same way he did Matt's, and it never mattered to him that she wore a high heels and skirts to do it. Hell, to Foggy that simply added to the challenge and he often wondered when other men were being crass about her if they'd have the same impact on a jury if they were smooshing their toes into high-heeled shoes during closing arguments.
He doesn't need to tell Midge any of this, but he advertises it in how he allows her carte blanche. Nothing is off the table and the only scandal Foggy presents relates to how quickly his coffee mug empties. In reality, time is passing so quickly because he's having such a great time. He hardly notices how long it's been and looks utterly flabbergasted when the waitress appears with a note.
"Kicking us out already, Phyllis?" When he asks, he gives her a tired grin. He's only just met her but he knows he name and treats her life family. She scoffs and pats his arm, amused.
"You've got a call, hon," she tells him, gesturing to the headset off the hook behind the counter. "I'll have you warmed up when you get back."
Foggy turns to look at the phone as the waitress leaves, eyebrows knitting. He can only think of one person who would have tracked him down here and if Matt's calling, something's wrong.
His stomach dumps into his shoes but he tells himself not to panic, not to make a scene. It would help if his body could get the message, but he's taken on an obvious pallor that Foggy can't do much to hide.
"I'd better see what that's about," he tells her, reaching across the table to grab her hand and squeeze it apologetically before sliding out of the booth. While the receiver's to his ear, he looks sincere and concerned. He'll probably be talking for at least a minute or two, eventually scribbling an address onto a nearby ticket book with large block letters.
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He’s charming, intelligent, funny, and seems to enjoy allowing her to speak her mind. That’s sometimes a rare find in men, but it’s a must for any man who is going to be with her. Midge is not the silent type when it comes to her opinions. She was always vocal; now she’s gone public with them. Foggy doesn’t seem to mind that at all.
It’s disappointing when it seems like Phyllis is going to kick them out because this is one of the best dates Midge has been on in a long time. She can’t believe how long they’ve been sitting here talking.
The phone call is… odd. Who even knows that they’re here? Midge watches across the diner as Foggy takes the call, his face looking more worried by the minute.
“Who was that?” Midge asks after he returns to the table. “Is something wrong?”
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"It's Matt," he says, voice quiet and sober. "He's been— arrested," Foggy adds, grimacing. Of course Matt's one call is going to be to his best friend, now his attorney. He had known that Foggy was meeting Midge at the club and from there the relay of information had pointed towards the diner. He'd been appropriately apologetic himself, but it doesn't stop Foggy from feeling somewhat at a loss for these next few moments.
He chews his lip. "I'm going to need to see him, but—" Foggy hesitates. He doesn't allow himself to stop. "Would you want to come with me? I know it's not glamorous, but I'm not quite ready for our night together to end..."
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“Yeah, I’ll come.” Midge puts her coat on. She’s honestly a little bit worried about Matt. “It’ll be nice to be on the other side of the bars for once.”
Hopefully Foggy won’t mind her trying to lighten the mood. It’s what she does.
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"Sounds like you guys have all the fun," he tells her, a thin smile of amusement gracing his soft features. "I've never been to jail, but that doesn't mean it's not on my bucket list." Would he purposefully get himself tossed in jail? Hell no. But if he happened to get collared while being wrapped up in a bar fight or something, he wouldn't cry about having that experience.
"It helps with clients sometimes that a lawyer can empathize," he notes, "But I'm sure that's not why Matt's done it. He probably got harassed by some jerk for being blind and popped him in the face or something. It's just going to take a little finagling."
Somehow Foggy remains positively upbeat about the strangest things.
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She takes Foggy’s arm as they leave the diner. Tonight is turning out to be more of an adventure than she bargained for.
“It’s nice that you want to empathize with your clients, but jail’s a pain in the ass. Did Matt say where he is?”
Do they need to catch a cab or can they walk? If Matt punched someone for making fun of his disability, Midge hopes the other guy’s in the hospital. That’s one of the only places that can be worse than jail.
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"He's not far," Foggy says, reaching to squeeze her hand where he's held onto him. He doesn't feel particularly worried — Matt's a survivor — but he knows the majority of the world sees him as a blind guy we probably needs more help than he lets on. (Of course, it's not untrue, but it's got nothing to do with Matt's blindness and everything to do with Matt having entirely too many aspirations for so few hands and so little capital.
"You okay with the subway? Three stops will get us close enough," he adds, figuring that gives her a good enough idea of how off course they'll end up.
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The two of them reach the entrance to the subway and hurry down the stairs. The trains are deserted at this time of night. Fortunately, they only have to wait a few minutes until they get on.
“Well, Mr. Nelson,” Midge says as they sit down. “You sure know how to show a girl an interesting time.”
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Midge drags him back, though, with her comment making him sit against the seat again and offer her a thin smile. He feels the tug of guilt as he looks at her. This isn't anyone's idea of a good time and he thinks that's obvious by her choice of the word interesting here. Not good, or great, or even fun. Interesting. Of interest. Something to note.
"Yeah, this is a sad excuse for a date, I know. I hope you'll let me make it up to you, Midge," Foggy says, genuinely. "This is—" He gestures at everything and nothing, a vague note for her to understand he means what's going on. "This is my life, for better or worse. It's a pretty regular occurrence that I'm forced to drop personal priorities for work, but I don't want you to think you're not important, or that I don't regret having to disappoint you."
Tentatively, he reaches for her hand, hoping to take it into his own. "And no point pretending it's not disappointing. Not everyone likes their date to turn into a side-quest. It's not my preference," Foggy admits. But he does it because it's Matt and Matt needs the support for all that he does.
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“I don’t mind a little adventure,” Midge tells him, allowing him to take her hand in his. “But I’m also very happy to let you make this up to me.” That’s her indirect way of saying that she’d like to see him again.
If this is his life, it’s a hectic one. Her own life is rather busy between her kids and her career. Midge hopes that the two of them will have time for each other. Such a relationship seems like it would be worth it.
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Thankfully, Foggy has a brand of local magic that stems from his good relationships around town. He doesn't take more than a few minutes to spring Matt who gets released into Foggy's care. Little worse for wear, but lacking his cane and sporting a few cuts and scrapes, he's given a firm but quiet lecture amidst his apologies and then Foggy puts him in a cab and sends him on his way.
It feels late and as he watches the taillights on the cab retreating, he turns his attention back to Midge and splays his hands.
"Not too bad, but that guy needs to get himself a few more friends with bail money," he jokes quietly, all the while looking twice as apologetic as he had earlier. "I'd call him a menace if he hadn't made this possible," Foggy adds, gesturing between the two of them before carefully and slowly stepping into her personal space. Despite the disappointments, he can't deny getting to spend any time with Midge's vibrancy is a boon. It creates a soft smile and he reaches out to sneak a grip around her hand, urging her even closer.
"You're really going to let me see you again, huh?" Because after all this, he is a bit surprised she's not at least a little put off. "I will make it up to you. No interruptions next time. Promise."
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“I know who I’m calling the next time I get arrested.” She’s joking… maybe. If she does ever call Foggy to bail her out, she’ll at least pay him back.
When he moves closer to her, she can feel her heartbeat start to pick up. “Of course,” Midge replies. “Tonight was an adventure, wasn’t it? But I’m going to hold you to that promise.”
He’s close enough for her to lean in and press her lips gently to his. It’s a bold move, but she doesn’t think he’ll mind.
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Pressed together, lips meeting sweetly, Foggy can't help but drown in the blooming flutters tickling his insides. His mouth matches hers in enthusiasm, borrowing light pressure and searching for that perfect angle. His arms link around her and squeezes gently, lifting her and pulling her more readily against him. And when he breaks free, he's appropriately breathless, laughing and holding her still, but near-timid about how little he wants to let go.
"You made the night feel adventurous. If I would have been alone, it would have just been depressing," he says, softly. "I'm excited to see where we'll go next."
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“Glad I could make bailing your friend out of jail fun,” she says with a smile. “Hopefully I can have you all to myself next time though.”
For Bucky Barnes (counterstep)
[ His ‘aw shucks’ attitude whenever Midge shows her attraction to him is so sweet. She knows that he’s been through a lot, the extent of which she’s hardly aware. The war was hard for a lot of people, but it was particularly bad for Bucky. The fact that he made his interest in her known at all is a big step forward. Midge won’t push him, but she won’t hold back either.
The metal arm doesn’t really bother her. It fascinates her more than anything. She’s glad to see that he’s not wearing his gloves, even if it means he’ll probably get some questions.
Midge puts her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walk towards the elevator. ]
It’s only a few blocks from here. She’s a friend of mine from college and I don’t see her very often. [ She turns to him. ] But if I’ve got you for the night I don’t plan on staying very long.
For Alfred Pennyworth (flippin_peachy)
Alfred’s been charming and everyone keeps asking him where he’s from. He’s a good conversationalist and he’s held his own against Midge’s friends. During a lull, she slides up next to him, wrapping an arm around him. She’s wearing a form-fitting black dress that she looks absolutely stunning in.
“Enjoying yourself?” She asks.
Thank you for writing this 💜
When Midge comes over he leans in to kiss her cheek, grateful for the break in trying to impress her friends.
"No one has thrown a drink on me yet so yes, I am."
💜
Midge smiles at the kiss. “Thankfully, none of my friends are that rude. Everyone loves your accent.”
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"You having fun?"
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“I am, actually. Who knew a divorce party would be fun?”
Maybe it means that she’s finally come to terms with what Joel did and her marriage ending.
[ OOC: want to have Alfred meet some of the people from her canon? Joel? Her manager Susie? ]
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Because she's the real comedian here and he will never stop on her toes like that.
"I was a little worried it would be awkward but it's actually turned into one of the better parties I've been to in a while."
[ooc: sure! So long as you don't mind writing them. 😊]
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They’re next to the minibar, so Midge turns to it and begins to make herself another martini. “Want another drink?” she asks. The other guests are occupying themselves, so she’s happy to spend this time with Alfred.
[ OOC: no problem! ]
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He says, watching her make her drink with a little smile. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight and when she puts down the martini shaker he slips in to steal a kiss.
"Sure, but first I needed a little taste of you."
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After pouring out her martini into a glass, she turns back to Alfred. “What can I get you?”
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"I'll have whiskey on the rocks."
He's a simple type, usually sticking to a pint of beer or whiskey.
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Midge rolls her eyes at the person, then starts making Alfred’s drink. “Another question I’ve gotten asked a lot is how we met.”
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"And did you tell them we met by playing a word association game or did you come up with a more interesting lie?"
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A short, masculine-looking woman has just arrived at the party and Midge nudges Alfred with her elbow.
“That’s Susie, my manager,” she says. “I’m kind of surprised it’s taken her this long to meet you.” Susie usually wouldn’t have bothered to wait for an introduction. She would have just tracked Alfred down and confronted him. Midge wonders why she hasn’t yet. “I’d like to apologize for her in advance.”
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He clinks his glass against hers and takes a sip, his eyes shifting upwards to the person Midge is pointing out.
"Why?" He asks, clearly curious as to why she is apologizing so soon about the short woman who is currently grabbing herself a beer. "Is she going to challenge me to a duel or something?"
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Beer in hand, Susie makes a beeline for Midge and Alfred. Before Midge can even say anything, Susie is sizing Alfred up.
“So, this is the British guy?” She asks. “Well, he’s not weird-looking.”
“Why would he be weird-looking?” Midge asks somewhat defensively.
“All British people are weird looking,” Susie says.
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“Susie!,” Midge says, incensed. “He’s not a horse. What the hell are you doing.”
“Making sure he’s worth whatever distraction he’s going to be for you.”
Midge rolls her eyes and looks at Alfred. This is what she had been apologizing for.
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"And I promise to only distract her when she's not on stage."
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“I’m not that posh,” Midge replies. “A ‘posh bird’ is—“
“Yeah, yeah, I know what it is,” Susie cuts in. She does not know what it is. The British have weird slang. Her eyes give Alfred another wary once over. “Well, the quality of her performances hasn’t slipped yet, so I guess I’m fine with you.”
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"But seriously, Midge isn't the first performer I've known. I understand it takes a lot of work to be successful so I'm not going to do anything to hinder that."
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“He’s not dating me because he thinks he’s going to cash in if I hit it big, if that’s what you’re implying,” Midge retorts.
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He says and then shifts gears to make sure he doesn't have to talk about Esme anymore.
"What about you Susie? Do you date often?"
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Susie just stares blankly at Alfred for a moment before turning back to Midge.
“I booked you at Mr. Lu’s in Chinatown next week.”
“Is that a Chinese restaurant?” Midge asks.
“No. It’s a club. The manager promised me you’d have the 9:00 slot. If he bumps you, I get to punch him in the face.”
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"Are all managers here in America so protective of their clients or is Susie just one of the better ones?"
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They chat for a few more minutes, then Susie wanders off. She probably won’t stay for too much longer.
“She’s not one for small talk,” Midge tells Alfred, “but she really believes in me.”
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"She's tough but I can tell she loves you. That's important."
Leaning in he kisses her cheek, "Plus she didn't punch me so I think it went well."
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So sneaky, Alfred.
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She sips her martini. “The art of deflection. Guess the military taught you something, eh?”
ooc: figured now would be a fun time to add in Midge's ex
"It taught me everything, good and bad."
"Did it teach you how to seduce recent divorcees?" A voice says from behind them and Alfred turns to see a good looking bloke, giving him the death glare.
welp
“I really didn’t expect you to come to a divorce party,” she says.
“Why not?” He replies. “I’m part of the divorce too.”
The irony is that Alfred did seduce her, at least a little bit. He showed up at her apartment one night and talked the panties right off of her. It was entirely consensual though. Her eyes furtively flick to the couch where she and Alfred had…
Midge clears her throat. “Alfred, this is Joel, my ex-husband. Joel, this is Alfred.”
Please behave like civilized men.
😈 tee hee
"All right, mate." He says in greeting, his tone neutral even though he already doesn't like the way Joel is looking him up and down.
"I'm also the father of our children, Ethan and Esther." He says and looks at Midge, "Has he met them yet?
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She’s noticed that the two men didn’t shake hands. Not off to a good start. Midge doesn’t get the hostility. Joel cheated on her. Did he think she’d never move on with someone else?
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"I kind of figured I'd meet them later on, you know, when things were solid." Alfred says, glancing at Midge and giving her a little smile.
"No point in confusing them when they've already had to deal with a divorce and nasty rumours about their father banging his much younger secretary."
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“Listen, pal,” Joel says, his anger rising, “do not talk about my kids. You have no idea what my kids have—"
“Stop!” Midge cries. “Stop it! Both of you be mature about this, please.”
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Joel's face screws up in a look of surprise and he glances around the room where some of the other guests are eagerly watching their interaction.
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“Fine,” he says. “I’ll leave. Feels weird, considering that I used to live here.”
“Joel…” Midge says.
“I’ll call you tomorrow about the kids.” He’s not going to stay here and fight a losing battle against his ex-wife, her new boyfriend and a group of their old friends. Joel puts his beer down on the table and leaves the apartment.
Midge sighs deeply and puts her face in her hands.
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"Joel, listen..."
"Get your hand off me."
"I'm not trying to replace you."
Joel stops, his body tensing as if he is about to try and punch Alfred but when he looks at the other man he finds that Alfred's face is sincere and calm and after a moment he relaxes slightly.
"I know you two have a past, I'm not trying to erase that. And I would never come between you and your kids, that's not the type of man I am." He explains softly but then lifts his brows at Joel, "But I'm also not the type of bloke to stand around and have someone be rude to me or the woman I care about."
Joel inhales sharply but then huffs out a small laugh.
"Yeah, all right. I kind of started it."
"And I continued it." Alfred admits and then extends a hand out, "Let's start over. I'm Alfred Pennyworth."
Joel eyes the hand for a second and then clasps it firmly, giving it a shake.
"Nice to meet you Alfred."
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"You peeping on the neighbours?" He asks Midge as he comes over.
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She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, for whatever you said.”
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"No thanks needed." He says and kisses the top of her head. "It was partially my fault."
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Midge sighs. “He may have cheated on me, but he’s really not a terrible guy.”
They get along most of the time, though arguments do happen frequently enough that Midge doesn’t regret her divorce. Ultimately, it’s about keeping things civil for the kids.
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He pauses to just hold her for a moment before pulling back and offering her a little smile, "We've decided to meet up next week for a pint. Just the two of us so we can talk like regular blokes."
Without an audience of Midge's friends or the pressure of trying to behave or act a certain way.
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She’s kidding… mostly.
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He’s been around for a while now. Midge doesn’t know when he’s going back to England and he’s a bit afraid to ask. She’s going to miss him tremendously.
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"You think I'm going to take off soon or something?"
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The guests start to make their way out one by one until just Midge and Alfred are left. She sits on the couch, exhausted, but tugs in his hand so that he’ll sit next to her.
“Parties are fun, but can be exhausting,” she says. “To be honest, I’m glad to have you all to myself again.”
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"Same. It was fun but it's nice and quiet now, just the two of us."
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“I have very fond memories of us on this couch,” she says cheekily before leaning over to kiss him. “You were so confident that night.”
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Midge pauses to give him a few languid kisses.
“And you did, so many times that night.”
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Midge happily reaps the benefits of that.
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Leaning forward, Midge kisses him with more passion this time, her mouth opening against his.
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“Looking for something?” She asks teasingly as her own hands start to loosen his tie.
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"I could have sworn they were in your bedroom but now I dunno...."
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“They could be down there,” she says coyly. “I guess you could always take off my panties and have a look.”
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“Feel anything?” she asks as her hands resume undoing his tie. “You should probably search very thoroughly.”
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"Feel good?"
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After removing Alfred’s tie, Midge drops it to the floor before pulling him in for a kiss. She’s rocks her hips back against his hand, a silent request for more.
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“Mmm, don’t stop…”
It never takes him long to get her to come and she can already feel the orgasm building inside of her.
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"Do you want more?" He asks and moves his middle finger against her opening, teasing it slightly.
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“Alfred…” she murmurs against his neck before starting to kiss further down his body.
[ OOC: sorry for falling off of the earth, I was traveling. ]
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(The warm water available in every house is a big selling point.)
Unfortunately, being at a new place also means having to rebuild his career from scratch. He's picked a few new instruments, even if he hasn't mastered them yet, but tavern (or bar, whatever they call it) crawling for gigs like a newbie isn't something he missed. At least people in this world are receptive to his music, and the bigotry is low.
Well, most of the time anyway.
Jaskier still doesn't take criticism well, so it's not surprising that after a heckler got a little too loud, chaos took over the bar. And here he is now, sitting in a cell. Again. Story of his life. At least the heckler was sent to a different cell; thank the gods for small favors. He's already made his call, and now he has to wait - he's never been good at waiting. An anti-authorities song is already on the edge of his lips when suddenly the cell opens and another prisoner is brought in. A prisoner that's very easy on the eyes.
Blue eyes sparkle at the sight, and he isn't at all smooth when he checks the woman out. Not only is she a beauty, she has style, something he greatly appreciates.
"I must say," his tone is clearly flirty, a grin reaching his lips as he speaks from the corner of the cell. "I usually don't expect people who dress as well as I do in this particular neck of the woods." His finger makes a whirl to indicate the lovely jail they're in.
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Of all the nights for The Wolford to have a raid, it’s a night where Susie wasn’t there. Thankfully, Midge was able to call her as soon as she got through booking and she’s on her way. It’s not that Midge hasn’t been arrested before, but this time they lumped her in with the other performers, despite the fact that she’s fully dressed and they weren’t. She’s been charged with indecent exposure before, so it’s not new, but she’s actually innocent this time. And sober.
She’s been separated from the other girls for some reason, a ray of hope that the cops might actually know she’s not one of the dancers, but she probably shouldn’t get her hopes up. The only other person in the cell is a man who is quite obviously giving her a once over. At least the cell is bars on 3 of the 4 walls, so the officers can see what’s happening inside. If they care.
Midge smooths out her dress and sits down opposite the other man. He looks friendly enough, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. You can’t trust that people have good intentions in a city like this.
“You must be new here,” she says, exhaling deeply and resting her head back against the wall. “It’s not my first rodeo, though it has been a while.”
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He's a bit disappointed to see her sit on the opposite side, but he doesn't blame her. Jaskier wouldn't sit next to the kind of people you usually find in jail either, because of safety but also because of how they fucking smell. Add to this the fact she's a woman and he's a male stranger... yeah, not blaming her at all. Good for her for taking care of herself.
That won't stop him from trying to charm her, of course. He just needs to prove he's friendly first. Jaskier chuckles when she calls him new, waving a dismissive hand with more flourish than necessary. Not even jail will stop him from being dramatic.
"New to this specific establishment?" Oh, the sarcasm is strong. "Yes. But far from new to ending my nights behind bars." A wink - the first of many to come. "If you're willing to clap along, I have at least three songs for Officer Nincompoop over there." The insult matches his tone, which indicates he doesn't like the man at all. His voice turns friendly and curious when he adds- "Although I wouldn't mind hearing how a pretty thing like you has had so many rodeos, as you call them."
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Very dramatic. And he’s winking at her. Midge furrows her brow. “You have three songs? You mean you wrote them? How long have you been in here?” Maybe they put her in this cell because it’s the long term one and they won’t let Susie bail her out. Is she going to be stuck here for weeks?
She sighs, trying to push down her anxiety. “Usually it’s because I say something on stage that someone doesn’t like and they call the cops on me, despite the fact that I have a First Amendment right to free speech.” The last bit is directed to the officer near the holding cell, who is doing a spectacular job of ignoring her. “Tonight, they raided the club I was working at and I got rounded up, despite not working.”
A beat. “I mean, I was working. I just wasn’t doing what the other girls were doing.”
Another beat. “I don’t mean they were working. There’s no sex. None of it is strictly illegal. People just can’t mind their own business.”
credit of that song to Deerstalker Pictures
"Yes, I wrote them, but not here! I meant from previous 'rodeos'." He's still not sure what a rodeo actually is, but he got the twist of the metaphor. "Law enforcement is the same everywhere." Wanting to both prove himself and impress her, he glances at the guard and starts singing. "♫ You think you're a god, please! You're a codpiece, now suck this D--" He keeps the D note for a few seconds in perfect pitch before ending it with "-Natural. ♫"
"Don't make me muzzle you, bard."
Jaskier rolls his eyes, the strong sarcasm returning. "Perfect service as usual."
His body language completely changes when the lovely lady touches on subjects dear to Jaskier's heart: the stage, opening your mouth to say too much against society's expectations, and censorship. His whole body tenses as he frowns.
"You're a performer?"
Things get worse as the description continues. 'Working girls' usually mean prostitution, but this lady clarifies there's no sex actually happening. The way she vaguely talks about the place implies something dirty, though. A raid. Working girls. But this one doesn't work, not 'like that'...
Then it hits him. He remembers some of the girls he slept with telling him about a lovely comedian who supports them instead of judging them. Someone who brings them some laughter before having to deal with the creeps in the crowd.
"Motherfucker-- Did they raid The Wolford?" Anger clear in his face and the way he stomps, Jaskier rushes to the bars and grabs them with white knuckles as he calls the names of a few of the girls he knows. He can hear some female voices responding, but he can't understand what they're saying. It seems they're in the last cells at the end of the corridor. Fuck.
He turns to his cellmate with worry written in his blue eyes. "Are they okay? Are you okay?"
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“You’re a bard?” she asks. “I didn’t think we had bards anymore.” Kind of old-fashioned, but not unheard of anymore, at least when it comes to singing about the feats of the magical folks.
His outrage is surprising at first, but then Midge has a revelation. “Oh, now I recognize you,” she says. “I’ve seen you around. Backstage.” If he’s seen one of her sets during the show, he didn’t recognize her here. “I think we’re all okay. Just annoyed.” Maybe she’s speaking for herself.
“Why are you here?” He clearly wasn’t at the club tonight if he didn’t know about the raid.
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He sighs with relief when he hears that everyone is fine, but he can't help staring at the corridor for a few seconds. Geralt better get here fast, because Jaskier won't be the only one he'll be bailing out tonight. Yennefer has sold enough potions and charms, he thinks, to cover the money needed for all the girls. And if not, well... he'll find a way.
"Allow me to start over." He bows for her with all the flourish of someone who has sung at many courts. "Jaskier of Oxenfurt. Bard, musician, poet, chronicler - and not from this world." Which explains why he is a bard in a world that doesn't have many.
If she works at The Wolford and has been censored for talking too much, he thinks she won't be a very judgmental person and won't mind the otherworlders. But one can never know for certain, so he waits a second to be sure she's fine with this before continuing.
"As for why I am here..." A shrug. "Heckler didn't like my song. I told him exactly where he could insert his opinion."
That's a huge simplification of what actually happened but hey, he has a silver tongue for a reason.
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Of course, people and creatures arriving from other worlds with no regulation is a huge national security risk. Usually, Otherworlders are detained and questioned, if they’re caught. Midge guesses that this guy and whoever came with him must have passed inspection, otherwise he might not be so open with her about him being an Otherworlder.
Personally, she’s fine with Otherworlders being here, as long as they’re living their lives and not trying to kill people or take over.
“Midge Maisel. Of the Upper West Side,” she replies. “Nice to meet you. Oh, I’ve done that before.”
Hecklers are part of the gig. Midge has to be able to handle them.
“I guess you haven’t seen my part of the show?” she asks. “Most men are just waiting for me to get off stage anyway.”
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"Lady Midge. A pleasure." Since it seems they're on friendly grounds now, he dares to grab her hand to kiss it. Then he sits on the same bench as her, but makes sure to leave some room between them. Friendly grounds, sure, but he isn't pushing too far yet. Can't have her getting uncomfortable.
He laughs at her comment, but he also shakes his head. Audiences can be so frustrating and ungrateful. Fuckers.
"Many a man don't understand that beauty comes in all forms." He leans back against the wall, stretching his legs in the process. "To be fair, I haven't watched the girls 'dance' either," he adds while gesturing the quotation marks. "There's a reason you've seen me backstage: I've been hunting for work. The prosperous career I had at home doesn't exist here, not yet anyway. It's like I'm eighteen again, hunting for a stage that will have me."
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Of course he sits down next to her. Was that whole thing an elaborate show to conveniently move to her side of the cell? Jaskier keeps out of her personal space though, which she appreciates. He’s not unattractive, but they’re in probably the least sexy place imaginable.
“They’re actually really good,” Midge tells him. “Some of them can do some really incredible stuff. They just happen to do it with their tops off.” That’s the sticking point for many a conservative. “I know the feeling. I’ve been doing this for about two years and it still feels like an uphill battle sometimes.”
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"Oh, they're definitely very talented," he responds with just enough innuendo to make it sound teasing but not crossing the line into pushing too far. Midge hasn't moved away from him or cleaned her hand, so it's a good start. Jaskier isn't sure how much the girls have talked about the -ahem- extracurricular activities they do with him, so better keep it at that.
He nods at the mention of a battle, eyes staring at the ceiling as he remembers the early days of camping with a grumpy witcher who only said one word every four hours. "A battle against other artists, the audience, stage owners, the critics, the law, society's expectations, creativity, and even yourself. Not exactly a fair fight, now is it?"
When he looks down again, he can't help staring at her for a few seconds, curiosity written in his eyes. "It's brave of you to stick to The Wolford, however. Many a person would be afraid of what it could do to their reputation. I respect that."
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Now her curiosity is piqued. She’s going to ask around about him.
“Sounds familiar.” Midge tucks her legs underneath her and leans back against the wall. She’s calmed down now and she’s feeling more comfortable.
Her gaze turns to meet his and she finds that his blue eyes are very penetrating. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. It’s a job. A regular one. I know I have a reliable place to test out my material several nights a week.” Midge shrugs. “I guess it can’t really ruin my reputation if I don’t have much of one yet. Besides, they know I don’t hold back with what I say.”
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He needs to introduce this lady to Yennefer, he realizes. Watch them be feisty at bigoted men together would be very entertaining. Maybe Ciri too, she needs more influences like this in her life. Unlike her adoptive parents, Midge actually expresses emotions and has a sense of humor. Kinda low bar, ain't it?
His eyes meet hers and he offers a little smile, making sure he shows how much he's enjoying this conversation.
"I shall be honest as well, then. I used to hold back some stuff. Respect doesn't make history, I told my best friend." Gosh, when was that? A little over two decades ago. Probably a blink in Geralt's centennial eyes. "And it did open doors. But here is the thing, my lady - even with a growing reputation, with many a court under my lovely peacock wings... I still couldn't say what I wanted. So fuck that shit."
After glancing at the guard again, he sings a little from another one of his prison songs. "♫ Sometimes it takes a prison cell, the tricks and tales that traitors tell, to help you see that freedom is all you've got. ♫"
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His swear-filled declaration and bursting into song manage to earn him a genuine smile from her.
“You know,” she says, her tone playful. “It might be your clothes.”
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"My clothes!" The hand returns to his chest - what a scandal indeed. "To think I complimented yours the second you walked in! I'm hurt, my lady. Hurt, I say!" Alright, that last part is exaggerated. But he's gonna pout anyway.
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Midge shrugs. “I’m not saying that you look bad, but it’s very obvious that you’re an Otherworlder, and some people are very biased against Otherworlders.”
What started as a teasing joke has turned into actual advice. Blending in a bit more might help his burgeoning career.
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"They work when I'm doing the bardic act," he tries to justify, but he knows it's a lost battle. A defeated sigh escapes his lips. "I hate this. I'm supposed to understand fashion!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration. "There's been so much to catch up on since we've arrived. I picked up new instruments and I've been studying the local music- have you heard all the different music genres they have here? It's absolutely insane!"
To be fair, he loves the variety of art that populates this world. It's refreshing, but also overwhelming. Another thing that is making him feel like a teenager again.
Jaskier gives Midge a new look over, this time less flirty and more admiring the fabrics. "You do understand fashion. Would you consider advising this humble bard? I'm willing to pay for your service."
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Midge can sympathize with Jaskier. If she was sent to a world where the fashion was very different from what she was used to, it would be frustrating for her too.
Midge smooths down her dress when he compliments her, then gives a short laugh. “I don’t think there’s anything humble about you.”
Standing up, she hums in her throat and gives his body a once over under the guise of determining if he’s able to be helped or not. Really, she’s checking him out just a little. He’s quite tall, much taller than her, which she has no problem with. His build is nice. The hair is a bit long for her usual taste, but the stubble actually looks good on him. His eyes are probably his best feature, a clear light blue. She sneaks a look at his hands too. Hands are important on a man. His are calloused, probably from playing string instruments, but the fingers taper nicely.
“Alright,” Midge says finally, “I’ll help you.”
She doesn’t need to be paid for it, but she’s not going to tell him that yet.
[ *It’s slightly too early for Dylan but we do what we want anyway. ]
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She isn't the first one to call him out for the whole 'humble bard' bit, so he just smiles as innocently as he can. That smile turns into a grin when he realizes what she's doing. Always hungry for attention, Jaskier stands up and takes off his long jacket before moving in a circle to show off. His sleeves are puffy and both his chemise and his vest are decorated with flowers. There are rings on his fingers and the chain around his neck has a small tuning fork. Those lovely cornflower blues of his have some kohl on them, the only make-up he's ever dared to wear back in his world.
He's tempted to ask like what you see?, but for once he keeps it to himself - he's seriously asking for her help here, the flirting can return later. When she agrees to help, he beams with the brightest smile and bows with a hand over his heart.
"My greatest gratitude--"
Before he can say more, the officer hits the bars with his baton before opening the cell. "Bard! You're out." And he sounds quite relieved about it.
Mischievous grin back in place, Jaskier grabs his jacket before winking at Midge. "I'll be right back." A strange thing to say while being bailed out. Ominous, if you will.
A few minutes later, Midge and the rest of the girls are being bailed out, too. Outside, they'll find Jaskier chatting with Geralt, and both of them are leaning against the witcher's motorcycle.
I’m so sorry jaskier
Midge grabs her things from booking and manages to leave the precinct without saying something that would get her re-arrested. When she catches sight of Jaskier and the other man with him, she nearly stops in her tracks.
The other man is even taller than Jaskier with a broad chest, cheekbones to die for, and long silver-white hair. Forget what she said earlier about preferring men with short hair. She obviously didn’t know what she was talking about.
Maybe the other girls have met this guy before, because they’re not swarming him. Maybe they all went blind in jail. Either way, Midge is not going to let an opportunity pass her by. She saunters up to Jaskier and his handsome friend, a grin on her face.
“Is this the hero we have to thank for bailing us out?” she asks sweetly. Up close, Midge can see that his eyes are an almost unearthly golden color. It only adds to his mystique.
no you're not lol
Seeing women getting their underwear wet over Geralt has been happening a lot in this world and is still quite a novelty. It wasn't impossible back home, but the few times it happened, they would change their minds when they realized that Geralt was a witcher. Jaskier working on his reputation did help a bit, and for years, he tried getting dates for his friend too. He always wanted Geralt to be happy, even if it wasn't with him.
No, women falling from Geralt has never bothered him. Jaskier encouraged it even (well, except for Yennefer, but that's a different story). How could he blame them when he felt the same? However, this is the first time that said woman has been on Jaskier's radar first. Love triangles among best friends are as old as humanity itself, so he guesses that this happening for the first time in a little over two decades of friendship is a small mercy.
Midge isn't being subtle, but if there was any doubt, Geralt's nose does that thing where it smells someone's hormones and he smirks at Jaskier, reaching the same conclusion. Jaskier rolls his eyes and mumbles I hate you before stepping away from the bike to meet his cellmate.
Her comment makes him snort. "He brought the wallet, but I was the mastermind. Shall we call it teamwork?" Annoyed as he may be, he wants things to proceed smoothly, so his hands begin gesturing dramatically to indicate his old and (hopefully) new friend. "Midge, this is Geralt. Geralt, this is Midge. Would you at least pretend that you picked up any manners from me?"
Geralt simply nods at Midge, and Jaskier rolls his eyes. One would think he was used to this by now.
"Don't take it personally, he's like that with everyone. Even his wife." A frowning Geralt playfully kicks the back of Jaskier's leg, and Jaskier chuckles, rather pleased with himself. The happy couple has been protesting over being called husband and wife since they've arrived, but Jaskier finds it easier than explaining the whole djinn situation. It's also helped with all the paperwork regarding Cirilla in this world, which is why they only half scold the bard for it.
Speaking of papers - Jaskier takes out a little paper from his pocket, which clearly was torn off from a notebook just a moment ago. He hands it to Midge, and when she unfolds it, she'll find his phone number with his name, which has a little buttercup drawn next to it. His penmanship is exquisite.
"If your offer was sincere, then - we can keep in contact, arrange a little shopping trip?"
He’s not sorry either!
“Very kind of you,” she replies to Jaskier’s comment about being the mastermind, though she’s looking at Geralt. After being introduced, Midge offers Geralt her hand, hoping that she will get a kiss on the back of it like she got from Jaskier.
Hearing that he has a wife is ultimately not that surprising, but it still feels like someone has popped her balloon. That someone is Jaskier. Midge eyes him, wondering if he’s telling the truth, but Geralt isn’t disputing it. He’s not saying much of anything. The strong, silent type are nice to look at, but Midge does like a bit of banter.
So much for that.
She’s a little annoyed at Jaskier for raining on her parade, but she takes the note with his number on it and puts it in her purse. She gestures for his notebook and pen and writes her name and number on a clean page.
“We can go to B Altman. The girls there will still let me use their employee discount.”
he never is lol also laughing so hard at Midge trying to go for a hand kiss (poem by Raj Arumugam)
He's a little nervous about handing her his notebook, and even Geralt raises his eyebrows in surprise. Jaskier never lets anyone look at his lyrics while he's still working on them. But oh well, this technically counts as an emergency, and Midge has enough manners not to look at the other pages.
"Sounds perfect! I shall write tomorrow then." He bows as a way to say goodbye. "Good night, my witty lady."
Both men then get on the bike, and Jaskier gets a helmet from Geralt while complaining about what it does to his hair. Before Geralt puts on his, he turns to Midge and talks in that growl of his.
"He's allergic to peaches. If he gets too annoying, just shove one down his throat."
"HEY!" The rest of Jaskier's protests are lost in the wind as Geralt finally takes off.
The next day, around lunchtime, a text with a poem arrives on Midge's phone.
Laugh a day
Laugh it now
Laugh as loud
as you want;
It shakes up your body
lets good things flow
through your veins;
Don’t think about it
just laugh a minute
or laugh a day
Laugh long as laugh-time
she thought that was a thing!
“Goodnight,” she says, and then, sincerely: “Thank you.”
Admittedly, she’s still watching Geralt as he and Jaskier get on the bike. Wife or not, watching Geralt straddle something is doing things to her. She hadn’t noticed his thighs at first. He could crush watermelons with those things.
The raspy sound of his voice takes her aback, but what he says draws a grin from her. She watches as they ride off, then waits for Susie to come pick her up.
She’s sitting in the park the next day when she gets the text. A smile forms on her lips while reading it.
Did you write that?
she's not completely wrong, sadly Geralt doesn't do court manners
Indeed I did! Did you like it?
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I do. Midge wonders if he wrote it for her or if it’s something he already had in his notebook. I’m free tomorrow if you’d like to go to the store for your modern makeover.
That will also give her time to ask the girls about him tonight when she’s at the club.
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Tomorrow works for me. Send me the address and we can meet there for lunch, mayhap? You could introduce me to your favorite restaurant.
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Is that your way of asking me out without asking me out?
She could have just thought it, but she’s made a career out of saying what she’s thinking. Before he can send a response, she sends another message.
We can eat at the lunch counter in B Altman. It’s not my favorite restaurant, but it’s good. I used to work at the makeup counter.
[address]
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The reply takes a few minutes to arrive. He's still learning to type, but the fact that she already said yes has filled him with glee, and he's making more typos than usual. He'd thought he'd have to beg more.
That works as well. And make-up is something you can also educate me on. Although I've already learned that men here don't wear it, same as my home world. I've worn kohl during performances, which has been risky enough. All those creams, though! They sound like something I'd adore on my skin, especially after being on windy or dry roads. I shall be your canvas, if you'll have me.
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No, most men don’t wear makeup here. You can probably get away with eyeliner on stage, since it’s part of the performance. The creams are very nice though. More men should use them.
I’ll do my best to be the Henry Higgins to your Eliza Dolittle.
(Look it up.)
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It irritates him how it's seen as a feminine trait. He likes looking good, and the world would be much happier if everyone looked good.
The next reply also takes a bit to arrive because he's looking up the names as she suggested. As soon as he reads the premise of the play, he bursts out laughing. There's a triple irony here: it kinda matches the hype-man part of his relationship with Geralt, and it makes for a funny twist to think of him as the vulgar one needing education, considering his noble background. And for the third thing--
A flower girl for the man named Buttercup. What a fitting choice on your part.
Obviously, she doesn't know what "jaskier" means, but it's the perfect chance to tease a little.
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That explains the flower he drew on the paper. She’ll probably stick with ‘Jaskier’ though.
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Indeed. A beautiful yet poisonous flower. Perfect name for a handsome poet with a silver tongue. Do you know what "Midge" means?
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Are you trying to use that silver tongue on me?
Feel free to run with that one, Jaskier.
A blood-sucking fly.
Yes, she’s serious. How it became a nickname for women… actually, a man probably came up with it.
But that’s technically a nickname. My real name is Miriam.
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Would you want me to?
The fly thing - it has to be a joke, right? Judging by the message that follows, it seems it isn't. Jaskier stares with an open mouth and realizes it'll be hard to tease Geralt for calling all his horses "roach" after this much worse naming idea.
Miriam is a lovely name. Yet you prefer Midge, regardless of its foul meaning?
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Maybe. If you can convince me.
She is flirting back because, well, why not? He’s not a bad-looking guy. It’s flattering, being hit on.
I do. I picked it in high school because Miriam seems so formal and old-sounding. It’s a real nickname, despite what a midge is.
I’ve been told that Miriam means “beloved” or “wished for child”, but I’ve also been told that it means “bitter”. Take your pick.
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My witty lady has granted me a mission, one I shall take gladly. Now I can speak freely of that lovely skirt of yours and how I picture myself crawling under it.
A 'high' school - that's Cirilla's age, if Jaskier remembers correctly. So she picked her name (or well, nickname) and did it when she was a teen - another thing they have in common.
I shall not take any pick - it's your name, therefore your pick to take. And if you like Midge, then Midge I'll call you. It's a cute nickname, for the record, fitting for a cute face. The meaning took me by surprise, but I understand why young Miriam chose it.
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I knew you were having impure thoughts about me when we were in that cell.
Seriously though, we haven’t even known each other for 24 hours yet. How do you know that you want to crawl under my skirt?
Lust is simple and men aren’t picky?
I didn’t know it was also the name of a fly when I picked it. I think it’s technically a nickname for Margaret, but that didn’t matter to me.
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Those are rather judgmental words coming from the woman who was ready to mount my best friend outside the police station. How did you know that you wanted him to kiss your hand?
Two can play this game, missy.
Young Mirian was right, it matters not. Your name is part of who you are, it's what represents you in the outside world - it must be what feels right, Margaret be damned.
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Please, I’m a lady. He can at least buy me dinner first.
Sadly, the only one mounting him is his wife, who you were so quick to bring up.
Did your parents really name you Buttercup?
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His wife is a literal witch, so if you think about it, I was watching over you.
An exaggeration, of course. She's not wrong about his goals behind the wife comment.
The idea of his parents naming him 'buttercup' gets a short yet very bitter laugh out of him.
Goodness, no. You're not the only one who chose a name for themselves during puberty.
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She wants him to remember that, despite whatever happens between them.
He didn’t seem interested anyway, but at least now she doesn’t have a reason to turn me into a toad.
Why did you pick Buttercup?
Maybe it’s not feminine to be named after flowers where he comes from. Still, he didn’t make fun of her for the fact that her nickname is a type of fly, so she won’t make fun of him for Buttercup.
Well, at least not maliciously. Teasing is never off the table with her.
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And that's sincere of him. He already wants to watch her on stage, but he knows that if he goes tonight, it'll be too much, considering their date tomorrow. (Is it a date anyway?)
Hey, I meant it yesterday when I said you shouldn't take his attitude personally. He's not used to being flirted with, and he was trained not to express any wants. Take it from me when I say he didn't find you unattractive.
Ah, what I explained before wasn't mere poetry - those were my reasons. The dichotomy of poison hiding behind such beauty, which I believe represents the power of words. You're a woman of many a word too - don't you agree with my conclusion?
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You two talked about me?
I do. Should I be worried about your poison, Buttercup?
She’s going to have so much fun calling him that.
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But even after all those years, it still feels weird to chat about his relationship with Geralt with someone he's trying to bed. Two different corners of his heart that could be awkward if they met.
Midge calls him Buttercup, and Jaskier chuckles, the smile on his lips soft and genuine. She's adorable, and his fondness is growing by the second.
Only if you plan to hurt me or my family. Should I be worried about your comedy, Lady Vampire?
A little joke refering to the "blood sucking" part of the fly that names her.
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Midge knows that she’s pretty, but she tries not to use it for personal gain. She tries even harder to never use it for professional gain. If she makes it in this industry, she wants it to be on her talent, not because she slept with someone.
Only if you have no sense of humor.
I write bits about the people I know, but I think it’s pretty early in our friendship for you to be the subject of one yet.
You’ll have to wait if you want me to suck you dry.
Double entendre very much intended.
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Bits about people she knows, huh? Now he's even more eager to see her act, curious about the juicy gossip. He throws his head back to laugh at the innuendo, delighted to see her play along.
As someone who writes songs about personal experiences, I can respect that. I want to joke about who may make it to each other's art first, but I suppose I'm already at a disadvantage considering the little poem I opened this conversation with.
And yet you've already trapped me in your thrall. Promises, promises.
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You just probably shouldn’t stand next to Geralt too often.
It’s probably a good thing for Jaskier that Geralt is a) taken and b) not a flirt.
I don’t think I could be with a man who didn’t say much. It’d just be me talking all the time, to the point where even I would want myself to shut up.
Besides, she likes banter, which Jaskier is more than providing.
It was a sweet little poem. Thank you.
Are you performing anywhere soon?
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Her next words make a good point, one that Jaskier's friends have provided before. He enjoys banter as well, so everyone has always been confused by his relationship with Geralt. He wonders if sex and romance would've killed it, and his stomach turns. Better not let his thoughts wander down that road. It's in the past, even if a piece of his heart will never move on.
I've been told I don't know when to shut up, so you've met your match.
An elf-owned bar on Friday night, and the possibility of a little something on Saturday that is waiting for confirmation.
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What he ought to do is help bring the women in to you. Some men do that for their friends.
Maybe I have met my match.
Midge has been enjoying their conversation. He’s a little less dramatic than he was last night and more down to earth. Verbal sparring is fun, but eventually she wants to see who a person really is.
Oh, I haven’t been to Elftown in a while. I have a gig Friday night… but Saturday would work, if your show happens.
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That idea of Geralt being a wingman, however, is quite amusing.
I'm perfectly capable of getting my own lovers, thank you very much. Besides, you've already seen his demeanor. Not exactly a social bloke.
She's been to Elftown and appears to feel positive about it, which continues to speak well of her open-mindedness. Saturday, however, is a queer bar, and Jaskier wonders if it's wise to drop that bomb now. It's really flattering to see her so interested in her performance, and he does want her to come...
Well, if she has a problem with his identity, then maybe it's better to get it out of the way early than have a bigger heartache later. Since obviously she's becoming less of a one-night stand by the second.
Saturday would be Rainbow Road.
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I believe you. You’re very charming.
Better to give him an actual compliment and leave it at that.
Hearing that he would be performing at Rainbow Road takes her aback. She’s heard of the bar, though hasn’t ever been there, of course. Artists, as she’s learned, are rather free-wheeling and accepting, and she supposes that performing at a gay bar wouldn’t be unheard of for someone like him.
I’d come, unless you wouldn’t want me there.
what if he gets her on stage on Saturday after his performance
That... sure is a polite response. He wonders if she got the implication and is accepting, or just thinks he's there for the gig. Once again, he's frustrated at the lack of body language. To be fair, though, she agrees to go, so obviously she isn't bothered by the idea of his people. That works for now.
I'll let you know as soon as I hear from them. What about you? I'm dying to hear your act, too. Is The Wolford your only gig?
she’d come up with something on the fly, as she does
Maybe she can learn more after she talks to the girls at the club.
I’m at The Wolford tonight and tomorrow, and then Friday’s at a jazz club in Midtown. If you want to come to that one, I’ll send you the address.
perfect. also I'm loving them so much omg
After they exchange information, he forces himself to say goodbye. He's loving their chat and is hungry for more, but he's gotta start his day at some point and she probably has things to do too.
The next day, he shows up at the mall just two minutes late. This time, the kohl and his hat stayed home, but his long jacket and the rings are still on. The light green shirt and dress pants were clearly bought here, so at least he's not using his bardic assembly every day. He may still be learning the local fashion, but he isn't a monster. His lute hangs on his back, too used to her comforting presence to leave without her.
Jaskier beams as soon as he sees Midge waiting for him. "My witty lady! What a delight it is to see you." He does a quick bow to say hi. "What shall it be first? Food or fabrics? I'm putting myself in your hands here." He winks to indicate he wants her hands in more ways than one.
I love them too! Also let me know if this is okay
Last night, she had asked some of the girls at the club about Jaskier and gotten some surprising answers. The ones who admitted to sleeping with him gave excellent reviews of his performance. One of them said he was overdramatic (obviously). Another said he sang too much. A third told her to talk to Brandon, one of the bartenders. And that was how Midge learned that Jaskier has slept with men. Apparently he likes both. Midge knew that people like that existed, but she has never met one, never been interested in one before. Regardless if his lovers were male or female, annoyed with him or maybe still a little bit in love with him, all of them said, without exception, that he was a fantastic lover.
It gives Midge a lot to think about. She’s not sure if she understands liking both men and women. The gay bar makes sense now though.
She grins when she sees him and assesses the rest of his outfit. “I’d say you’re about halfway there with your clothes,” Midge tells him. “Fabrics first, since you’re itching to get your hands on something.”
They enter the department store. “The men’s department is on the second floor,” she says as they head towards the escalator. “One of my friends who works up there has promised that she can get us a private fitting area.”
it's perfect! o7
It's been quite surprising, because in any other aspect, this world is the more progressive one. At home, even male doublets have colors, textures, and embroidery. Here he keeps seeing guys wearing plain shirts and pants, always in black, brown, blue, perhaps green. So-called male colors - macho colors. Not to mention those 'suit' things. Jaskier can admit that they make almost every man look quite handsome, and those ties have certainly given him ideas, but they'll all look the same fucking same. What happened to individuality and style?
When Midge mentions getting his hands on something, he offers his bent arm, but he won't push if she doesn't wish to take it. He grins at the mention of a private fitting area and gets ready to throw a comment full of innuendo, but his brain goes blank when they approach the escalator. It's not the first time he sees one, but they're still quite a sight.
"If I ask you a question, do you promise to only mock me after giving me the real answer?" He does get on the escalator next to her without much trouble, but he can't stop poking at the step with the tip of his boot. "Have these things ever killed anyone?"
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Midge puts her hand in the crook of his arm. Ever the gentleman. When they step on the escalator and Jaskier asks his question, Midge bites the inside of her cheek in order to keep a straight face.
“Oh, yes,” she replies. “One time when I was working at the makeup counter I saw someone wearing a long coat get the coat caught between the steps. He couldn’t get it out and when he reached the top - zhhhhipp. Pulled him right into the mechanism.”
At the horrified look on Jaskier’s face, Midge bursts into laughter. “It’s safe, I promise.” They reach the top and step off with no issues.
Right at the top of the escalator, as if someone had placed it there just for Midge, is a beautiful red dress on a mannequin.
“Oh my God,” she breathes and drops Jaskier’s arm to investigate. “It’s gorgeous. And it’s a Dior?” She looks through the rack behind the mannequin to find her size.
Why did she bring him here? This is so dangerous for her bank account.
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The tapping boot instantly stops as she starts describing the incident. Jaskier's face becomes a bit white and his eyes widen. Thankfully, before he can ask any more questions, Midge reveals her trick. Jaskier pouts, but it's hard to stay mad at her when she has such a bright, beautiful laugh.
"As safe as someone accidentally putting monster guts in one of your cute hats?" He's just teasing, he'd never do that (to her).
The second floor is a full market of clothes, and Jaskier doesn't know where to start looking. He wants to search every corner and touch every fabric, although part of him wonders if he'll get too frustrated at the male options to go for too long.
"That is gorgeous," he agrees as he smiles at her excitement. It's fun to have someone as enthusiastic as he is when it comes to fashion. Jaskier follows her to the racks and his eyes quickly fall on a particular ensemble.
"Are these only for adult women?" he asks as he grabs this lovely pink piece. "Or would this be adequate for a fifteen-year-old girl?"
I’m now imagining Ciri in that dress lololol
Midge holds the dress (which, she discovers, is actually a very dark pink) up to her body. She loves it already. She’s not even going to look at the price tag. Provided it fits well, it’s coming home with her.
She looks at what Jaskier is holding up and is briefly worried that he’s thinking of it for himself. She breathes a sigh of relief when he mentions a fifteen-year-old girl.
“Yes,” she replies. “She will probably fit into ladies’ sizes, though there’s a junior miss section too. It’s appropriate for a girl.”
She speaks as the mother of a girl, one whom she imagines will be an absolute terror when she’s fifteen.
YES GOOD
Since Midge says these are appropriate, Jaskier takes a new look at the rack while absorbing all the things she's saying. The dresses, at least, don't seem to be that much different from Yennefer's, although he doesn't dare to buy for her. He may choose something from the makeup section for her later. No other dress beats the pink one, at least not in a way that would fit Ciri nicely, so Jaskier gently hangs his first choice on his arm.
"This one shall come home then. Thank you." He then admires the way Midge holds the dark pink dress against and whistles to show his appreciation. "It looks like you've found your look for Friday. Unless jazz requires something else I'm not aware of?" A glance at her feet. "That is, if you can dance in those. I still can barely believe the height of the heels around here."
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“I usually wear black on stage, but I can make an exception.” Why not? It’s a dark color at least. “I can dance in heels. Why do you ask?”
The men’s department isn’t as colorful or exciting as the women’s department, though they are in luck that it’s spring/summer. The colors are lighter and more interesting than they would be for fall/winter. “Okay… does anything catch your interest?” she asks as she starts to look for clothing suggestions for him.
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"Oh gods, not another black soul!" No wonder she liked Geralt. "I'm trying to save my niece from that, you can't do this to me, too!" It still feels funny to call Ciri her niece. Just like he decided to call Geralt and Yennefer husband and wife to make things easier with the paperwork, Cirilla has decided that Jaskier is her uncle. He doesn't mind - he adores it, actually. But it'll be a while before he can say it without feeling those butterflies in his stomach. "Why do you mean 'why I asked'? You said it's a jazz club, and jazz is music, correct? You owe me a dance."
Indeed, the men's department isn't as exciting. Jaskier puts down his lute and the pink dress on a bench before he starts going through the racks, wrinkling his nose every time he fails to find something interesting among all the plain whites and grays.
The gasp that escapes his lips is filled with glee when he finds a very particular vest. Maybe there's hope for this place after all.
"Look--" He holds it against his chest. "It's buttercup gold."
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“On stage!” She protests. “You’re a performer. You know that what you wear has to look right to the audience and also needs to project a certain image. Trust me, Susie has worked hard on this. She’s going to grumble about the pink dress.” But she’ll get over it. Midge will still give off that frustrated housewife image that is the cornerstone of her routines.
“Why is it that I owe you a dance?” She asks, not recalling being a part of any earlier conversation where she agreed to that.
Midge nods at what he picks out. “Yes, but that’s really formal. Men don’t wear vests with brocade to go to the hardware store. What about any of these?” She points to a row of casual men’s shirts. “These have some colors and patterns. Any of the blue ones will bring out your eyes.”
Not that he needs to do much. His eyes are striking all on their own.
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It was about time she dropped a few names, too. He feels like he's dropped so much about Geralt and hasn't learned that much about her life in return.
"Because I just decided so," he responds with a teasing tone. "It'd be a crime to go to a music club and not dance. If you need an excuse, then consider it a thank-you dance for the bail."
With a sigh, he reminds himself this is exactly why he asked her for help and forces himself to check the shirts she's pointing at. "Maybe they should wear vests to the hardware store. I crossed forests and climbed mountains in doublets." And Geralt always mocked him for it. "It's unfair. How come girls get to look fancy and pretty all day long?"
He ends up picking two of the 'yoke front gabardines' and two 'sport pullovers', which are much softer to the touch than he expected. All the fabrics are of outstanding quality, he can admit that much.
His mood greatly improves when he sees these ones, sensing that he's finally getting this right. "Hey, color and patterns! Look at that, they do have them! These are casual wear, correct?"
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“Oh, you’ve decided that, have you?” She matches his playful tone. A dance is fine, though the assumption of it is forward. Jaskier clearly has no problem going after what he wants.
Pleased that he has picked out some shirts, Midge starts to look at slacks. She eyes his waist in order to estimate his size - thin, but not scrawny. Smaller than Joel. Yes, the pants will be in boring colors: black, tan. Midge picks up a navy one too, continuing the blue theme. “Most men here don’t want to look fancy and pretty,” she says, then looks at the shirts he’s indicating. “Yes, those are casual. They might be a bit warm for summer, but you can save them for fall.”
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If black dresses have gotten her gigs, then Jaskier isn't sure he's allowed to complain much (but he'll do it anyway). They already talked about the uphill battle after all. At least Midge leaves the black on the stage, so that already puts her ahead of certain friends of his.
Plain pants he can deal with, since usually the tops and jackets are the stars. He does wish they came in more colors and remembers his own ensembles in gold and blue quite fondly, but it's fine. Since they've got the informal things covered and she approved of the yellow vest before, he picks an extra white dress shirt and what he needs to accessorize: a vest and cravats. It's then that he remembers the ties, which do seem to come in a variety of patterns. Maybe he should start a collection.
He grabs a purple one and hangs it around his neck before offering the tips to Midge. "Another thing for me to learn. Would you do me the honors?"
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While Jaskier is busy looking at other clothing, she sneaks a navy blue suit into his pile of clothes to try on. It dawns on her that he would probably like bespoke things, but it’s easier to start with mass-produced clothing. She can find him a good tailor later.
Tying the tie brings her back to when she used to tie Joel’s ties for him. It feels like that was a lifetime ago. She tightens the knot, then pulls it up to Jaskier’s neck. “It looks better with a collared shirt,” she says. “Ready to try on clothing?”
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He wasn't lying when he said he needs to learn how to do tie knots, but right now he's a little distracted. Instead of watching her hands, he looks at her eyes and smells her perfume, taking a step closer into her personal space. (Can she see the faint stretch marks on his neck left by the djinn, he wonders.) Sadly she's done too soon, but at the last second, he manages to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and winks at her before stepping back.
"The day I say no to that question, you'll know I'm dead."
Before they move, however, he stops to grab a belt for Geralt - black, thick, strong, with a simple pattern. He puts it on top of Ciri's dress so it won't get mixed with his own stuff.
Once in the private fitting area, he puts the pile of clothes on a chair and finally notices the navy blue suit. He can't help but chuckle as he glances at Midge and decides that pleasing the lady is in order. Jaskier disappears behind the curtain and changes impressively fast, a skill acquired after years of sneaking around with forbidden daughters and married women.
Leaving his feet in only socks, he comes out by sliding on the fancy floor and stops in front of Midge with open arms. The tie is in a normal knot and not a tie knot, but he can fix that later. It's not like ties need to be tried on for size. "Go ahead and gloat, you've earned it." Once again, his tone is teasing. "Please tell me I can put a brooch on this. Or do men here think that will make their cocks fall?"
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Composed, Midge sits on the couch outside the stall that Jaskier has gone into and waits for him to emerge with the first outfit. A grin crosses her face when he comes out in the suit that she picked. She stands up and assesses it in a way that feels not unlike when she tries on clothes with Ethan and tugs on them to make sure that the fit is good.
“Broches are well-known to make cocks fall,” Midge says mock seriously. “But we can get you a pocket square to put here.” She sticks her fingers briefly in the jacket breast pocket, then sets about to fix his tie. “They’re usually colorful.”
Stepping back, she smiles. “It needs to be tailored a bit, but overall, it’s a good fit.” And it looks good on him. The flush in her cheeks is more prominent now and she feels a tingle roll down her stomach and settle between her legs.
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Maybe he should've saved the "brushing a strand of hair" move for now, considering they're in a private room. Before he can think of something else to do, she's stepping back. Dammit.
"Thank you. I've had a very talented advisor." Meaning her, obviously. It's then that he notices she's blushing, and his grin grows. It seems the moment is still on. "How about you try on your new dress too? Then we can make sure our colors don't clash. You know, for Friday."
Sure, that's the reason.
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She picks up the dress and disappears into the stall next to the one where he had changed. Midge emerges a few minutes later with the new dress on. It fits perfectly and she gives Jaskier a little twirl.
“I need to think about what accessories I have that will go with this,” she muses. “There should be a pair of pumps in my closet that is nearly this color.”
if she doesn't let him do the thing, lmk and I'll edit the tag, don't wanna godmode
While she changes, he looks for his notebook in his jacket and writes down all the things that ran through his mind when she fixed his tie (twice). When she comes out, he lets his eyes roam without shame.
"Look at you," he responds with clear awe in his voice as he puts down the notebook before approaching her. "Long and lovely stems of a rose freshly cut."
He slowly comes closer, giving her time to protest or move if she so wishes. Jaskier raises one of her hands in his, then puts his other hand on her lower back, making sure not to reach her waist to keep things playful instead of naughty.
With a spark in those blue eyes, he nods at the big mirror on the wall. "That's one pretty picture, if I may say so myself."
its all good
An uncontrollable smile crosses her face at his little bit of poetry. “Is this how you draw the ladies in?” she asks.
She doesn’t protest when he takes her hand and puts his arm around her. Their reflection in the mirror is indeed a nice picture. Without her heels on, Jaskier is much taller than her. Midge turns her gaze from the reflection to him, her blue eyes looking up into his.
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With lots of pink and no heels, Midge is a gorgeous chickpea flower, and he makes a mental note to write something on that parallel. He returns the gaze without hesitation, letting a bit of desire appear in his cornflower blues. Seeing as she is okay with a bit of playful touching, he lets his nose brush hers for just a second before talking.
"Midge." They're alone but he doesn't care, he's a romantic at heart - so he lowers his voice to make it sound more intimate. Romance from him, comedy for her: "If I'm not a smelly ball of sweat when I run from my gig to yours, would you go on a date with me?"
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She lets out a little gasp when his nose brushes hers. Her heart is racing in her chest now with his lips so close to hers. She tries to keep her composure.
“Thank you for asking, Jaskier,” Midge says calmly. “Yes, I will go out with you.”
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"You've made this humble bard very happy today." And since they're in a waltz position, he dips her just for fun, laughing as he brings her up. "Thank you." He seals that with a kiss to her cheek, rather short but also rather sweet.
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“I should… change out of this,” Midge says, a little flustered. “And… you have more to try on.”
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"I suppose you're right. Let me know if you need help." He winks before finally letting go of her, which is much harder than it looks. He just wants to keep her pressed against him...
At least he gets lots of little touches again every time he tries on new clothes. She is always tugging the jackets, fixing a collar, demonstrating the tie knot - and Jaskier loves every second of it. He loves attention and fashion advice in general, obviously, but this is extra special. The barrier has been broken, so he allows himself to brush her hands and arms every chance he gets, feeling the electricity in the air between their skin. It's intoxicating.
He's a fast changer so they go through all the outfits pretty quickly, and his good mood has him happily humming through the entire experience. Lyrics come out if it's an outfit that takes a little longer.
Once everyone is confirmed to fit well, they pay and get too many bags in return. Jaskier knows Geralt won't approve of this, but Yennefer will be on his side (because she's already done the same with dresses). He's glad that they work all together to have enough money to do this kind of thing. The fact that Geralt isn't a big spender just leaves more for the bard and the witch to keep their fancy styles. (Now if Jaskier could only have enough for a piano.)
"Shall we do make-up now?" he asks with his head tilted. "It should be quick, but I wouldn't mind if you want to take a lunch break first." He knows they've been shopping for a while and those heels look like torture devices.
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Jaskier is right; her feet are starting to hurt from the heels. “Lunch sounds good,” she says. “The lunch counter is on the first floor too.” They can stop at the makeup counter before they leave.
As they descend the escalator, Midge smiles at him. “You know… this is the most fun I’ve ever had shopping with a man. Most men hate shopping and just complain the whole time.”
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The fact that he's the first guy she knows who enjoys shopping and clothes isn't surprising at all. But he can't help staring at her at first, waiting for something else to come with tension on his shoulders. Usually any comments directed at his love for what is considered female interests are a way to dig at his sexuality - he's not exactly subtle, after all. He knows what people think of his dramatics and his foppishness.
However, nothing comes. Midge is being genuine with that lovely smile of hers, a smile he returns as soon as he realizes it's fine.
"Most men think their balls will shrink if they own more than two pairs of pants." His tone indicates he totally understands her frustration. Been there, done that and all. "I'm glad you had fun - so did I. Not many girls like it when there's a bloke in a 'female space'." Hard to gesture the quotation marks with so many bags in his hands, but he thinks the spirit is there. "Does this fall under the would give my parents a heart attack if they knew category? Because if so-" He leans in with a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Let them know and bring me the details."
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In the meantime, she snorts a laugh at his joke about balls shrinking. “I like having you in my female space,” she retorts saucily. People can say what they will about his feminine qualities, but he is breaking a lot of the stereotypes about men that Midge finds irritating. If they can enjoy things together, isn’t that all that matters?
If only she could silence the voice in the back of her head that wonders if she’s what he really wants.
At the lunch counter, Midge orders a Coke and then peruses the menu. It’s mostly sandwiches, burgers and a few hot dishes.
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"Look at this variety of food," he says as he admires the menu. "Bless those cold boxes."
He orders a tuna salad for himself, since fish will always remind him of Oxenfurt. After Midge orders too, he takes a sip of his fresh orange juice and rests his chin on his hand, that twinkle in his eyes appearing again.
"How about a little game? A question for a question. The name explains itself."
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She takes a drink and glances at Jaskier.
“Alright,” she replies. “I’ll let you go first since you seem keen.”
If there’s anything he wants to know, he can always just ask. No need to make a game of it, but that just seems to be part of his playful nature, so she’ll play along.
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Just teasing, of course. He plays with the straw in his glass for a second before deciding that he may as well go for the obvious one.
"How does a lady with your style end up in comedy?"
She mentioned Susie, but there's obviously more to the story.
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Her face gets more serious. It’s not that Midge keeps details of her life a secret, but she and Jaskier haven’t discussed this yet.
“I’m divorced,” she starts. “My ex-husband was interested in stand-up comedy. We’d go to the club and I’d make a brisket for the manager so that he could get a good time slot, but he just wasn’t that funny.” And that was with ‘borrowed’ jokes too. “One night he told me that he was leaving me because he was sleeping with his secretary.”
Midge is quiet for a moment. Even after so long, Joel’s betrayal and the destruction of her marriage still hurt.
“That night, I got incredibly drunk and went out to the club in the pouring rain in my nightgown. I got onstage and just let him have it. I was pouring my heart out, but it was funny, and it was… exhilarating, you know?”
As a fellow performer, he should understand that.
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(Mental note: don't ever, ever tell her he's fucked married people.)
The second part of the story is actually hilarious, an anecdote worthy of an artist. But Jaskier keeps his face neutral, not quite sure of how to tackle this yet. He realizes she could've started her story there, without having to explain why she was drunk. Yet she didn't. The series of events is intrinsically bounded and she refuses to separate them - that's important for an artist, to channel those emotions, use them in their art.
Susie probably saw that, Jaskier thinks. She was right. Midge is going to go far.
"I do know. A thrill so high that naughty substances can't even start to imitate. Holding a crowd in the palm of your hand and being the master of their emotions... People believe that judges and kings play god. I think artists do."
Very gently, he reaches to hold her wrist, giving a light squeeze before rubbing her hand with his calloused thumb.
"Sorry I made you bring this up. I could've never guessed..." He shakes his head. "I was expecting something about a woman trying to make it in the sea of cocks. Which was what I meant, by the way." She was clearly joking about being offended, but considering the turn this took, better to throw some assurance out there. He does think pretty ladies can be funny, but he also knows the reality of the industry. "Thank you for sharing. That last bit? I couldn't have written a better prologue for a comedian. I wish I could've seen you. It sounds like it was very raw." His tone says that's a positive thing.
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The touch of his hand against hers, calloused though his fingers may be, feels nice.
“I’m also a woman trying to make it in a sea of cocks,” she confirms. It’s been an uphill battle. “I went back a few nights later after a disastrous Passover seder at which Joel and I tried to pretend that everything was fine.” Midge glances up at him. “I’m Jewish. If you know what that is. It’s a religion and… honestly a culture.”
That’s another thing Jaskier would learn about her sooner or later. Hopefully, being from another world entirely means that he doesn’t have any sort of negative preconceived notions about Jews.
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"You've mentioned several words I don't understand, but I got the idea. Holiday with the family, keeping up appearances."
A pause. His thumb stops moving, but he doesn't remove his hand. This was supposed to be a fun game, yet here they are. Religion isn't exactly a conversation they should be having during a game, and yet... Jaskier thinks back to what he thought during their texting: better get things out of the way now.
"I'm not a friend of religion." His face is very serious. "And that's putting it extremely lightly. I hope that won't be a problem."
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It’s the most serious that she’s ever seen him before, and Midge wonders what sort of trauma he experienced with religion where he comes from. She knows plenty of people here who have had similar experiences.
“It’s alright. Religion is a complicated thing. Mine is not the dominant one and our people have been persecuted in the past.” That’s putting the genocide lightly. “Respect is all that I ask for.” As for her parents? Well. That’s getting a little bit ahead of things, isn’t it?
“If it’s my turn…” Midge takes a deep breath, debating how best to ask this question and ultimately deciding not to beat around the bush. “I spoke with some of the girls at the club about you and they told me that I should speak with Brandon…”
Midge presumes that Jaskier sleeping with men isn’t something that he keeps secret. The girls told him and Brandon was forthcoming too.
“I, um… do you like women and men?” Before he pulls away from her, Midge tries to explain herself. “I’ve heard of that before, but I’ve never met anyone… maybe it’s common where you come from?”
Is she explaining herself badly? She just wants him to know that she isn’t mad or necessarily turned off. She just wants to understand- and be reassured that he really is interested in her.
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Midge talked to the girls, huh? He wonders why - just self-preservation, making sure he's safe? Or curiosity about Jaskier's intimate stories? She looks so serious, though; is she going to have a problem with him sleeping around?
Then she brings up Brandon, and Jaskier's entire body tenses.
Brandon trusting her with that information should be a good sign, should speak well of where she stands. But the fact that she's bringing up this after their conversation about religion and keeping up appearances makes him nervous.
Jaskier doesn't know what to expect. But her calling it 'common in his world' is definitely not it.
It hits him with such a mood whiplash! He's expecting the worst, yet her question is just... innocent. Curious.
He can't help it. He has to laugh. The hand is pulled back, but not for a bad reason: the idea is just so ridiculous that he has to grab his body as he bends over.
"Common?" he manages to ask between chuckles. "Goodness, no! Why do you think I'm not a friend of a religion?" As the laughing calms down, his hands go crazy with gesturing. "I mean, that and other hundred reasons, including censorship and book burning, but, you know... I'm quite sure that's number one on the list."
After sipping more juice, he leans back in his seat and tils his head, looking at her like she's the most precious thing.
"Yes, I like women, men, and everything in the middle. I don't care what is in your underwear as long as it's happy to see me." Wink~
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“There are a lot of people here who don’t agree with it either,” she says. “It’s taboo.”
Midge looks over at him, offering a little smile at his wink.
“You’re pretty open about it. Some gay men here sleep with women in order to hide the fact that they really like men. You’re saying you like… everyone?”
It’s the last bit of reassurance that she needs that he’s actually interested in her.
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A little sigh. "But you won't see me sing it on the streets, even if people do tend to assume because of my mannerisms. I promise you that Ciri hasn't told her friends that their math teacher was absent on exam day because her uncle fucked him."
Her next words slowly sink in and he finally realizes why she wanted to ask this, besides curiosity and wanting a better understanding. And after what she said about her ex-husband, he understands why. An urge to protect her is starting to grow, and Jaskier wonders if he could convince Yennefer to send a curse after the bastard who broke her heart.
"Oh, darling, is that what you were afraid of?" He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Yes, I like everyone. Brandon is the one exclusively into men. Which kinda broke Roxy's heart because we were hoping for a threesome." If the girls have shared stories with her already, he assumes that's safe to share too. "If you need assurance of how much I desire you, I can call Geralt. His nose can smell arousal."
Which means Midge was less subtle than they thought the other night. Oopsie.
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Midge isn’t prude, but she doesn’t think she’s nearly experienced enough to keep up with him. It’s strange. Most men who just want to sleep with her are the type that she would tell to fuck off. It feels different with Jaskier. Maybe because it feels like he genuinely cares for her.
“Geralt can smell arousal?” Midge asks, then a realization hits her. “Oh God, did he think…?”
He probably did. She wasn’t subtle. Her cheeks turn red.
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Look at those cheeks. So cute. "Oh, yes, he did," he replies while laughing at her reaction. "But to be fair, I could tell too, and I didn't need a hound's nose for it." She wasn't subtle, he's trying to say.
At that moment, their food arrives. Jaskier thanks the waitress with a compliment and offers a sweet smile, not being able to stop the flirting even at times like this.
"It's my turn, isn't it?" He takes a bite of his salad while deciding what topic to go for next. There are many options, yet his curiosity makes him go back to a certain thing. "Please stop me if I'm accidentally stumbling into another dark moment, but I hope you understand - there's no such thing as divorce in my world, so my curiosity is itching. You're legally allowed to say you're 'single' now? You live alone?"
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After taking a bite of her sandwich, she answers his next question.
“Yes, I’m single, but I don’t live alone. I have two children.” Does that surprise him? “Ethan is 5 and Esther is 2. Joel and I split custody of them so they’re not at the apartment all the time. My parents also live with me and I wish I could split custody of them with someone else because they’re always there.”
Peace and quiet is a rarity at home.
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"...you're a mother?"
Indeed, it does surprise him. They've gone through many complicated subjects, yet this one is the one that leaves him with wide eyes and an open mouth. It's not like he hasn't fucked mothers before, and her age isn't even something he'd think about because women marry and give birth that young in his world too. No, the reason why it's surprising is her willingness to still go out to bars and have fun, especially when the kids are still that young.
There is no judgment on his part, though. The exact opposite, in fact. She wants to have fun, she wants her freedom, she says fuck you to what society expects of her. As if Jaskier needed another reason to be attracted to her.
He snaps out of it when she makes the joke about her parents, and he laughs.
"That does sound like a little piece of hell. But that means free babysitters, right?" They must know about her career, he realizes. He may already have his next question, but it's her turn. "As frustrating as it sounds, I'm glad you aren't alone."
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“Exactly.” She grins. “I’m glad not to be alone.” Even though her family drives her insane sometimes, they’re very close. “Tell me about who you live with other than Geralt. His wife? Your niece?”
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Jaskier gets his jacket and starts searching all the pockets for his notebook. "Those camera thingies, oh, what wondrous invention. I traveled so much, Midge, do you have any idea how I would've loved to have such a device-- ah-ha!"
From the last pages of his notebook, Jaskier takes out a Polaroid picture that he puts down on the table to show Midge. It's the four of them at a diner shortly after they arrived, so they're still wearing their medieval clothes. The waitress took the picture. Geralt has his arm on the back of the booth seat and Yennefer is resting her head on it as they both look at Cirilla with obvious fondness. On the opposite side of the table, Jaskier and Ciri are excitedly pouring chocolate syrup on a huge sundae.
"Life with three immortals can bruise one's ego, so I hope those creams you recommend work for both my skin and my pride."
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“They’re immortal?” she asks. “Gee, it’d be great to look like that forever, huh? They’re your family?”
She wonders about his biological family, but doesn’t ask.
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He takes another sip of his juice before replying again. "They are. I've known Geralt since I was eighteen. That's--" He wiggles his fingers as he makes the mental math. "--twenty-five years ago. Fuck."
Jaskier pauses for a second. He's a very energetic man at 42, and he hasn't felt the weight of his age yet, but sometimes when he mentions the numbers, it hits him like a hammer. He worries about what will happen to his family when he isn't there to keep them grounded anymore.
"Sorry, where was I? Right- Met Geralt when I was eighteen, and we met Yennefer--" Another pause for more mental math. "--sixteen years later. We used to hate each other's guts, but war has a way to bring people together." He rubs the tips of his burnt fingers. "Geralt says that sometimes he misses it when we didn't get along because now we can team up against his stubborn arse."
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Midge keeps eating her lunch as they talk. “Isn’t it great when you get to team up with family members against other ones?”
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"Oh, it absolutely is. Ciri and I make a killing team. Although I wonder if you'll think the same when your kids are old enough to team up against you."
Part of him wants to ask what her parents think of her recent choices, but he can't bring himself to do it. They've finally brought back the playful mood to the conversation, and he doesn't want to ruin it again. Besides, if she keeps asking about his own family, he'll have to talk about Lettenhove, and he isn't ready for that.
"What is your favorite flower?" Sounds like a silly one, but it's important to him.
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“Oh, they already do that,” Midge assures him.
The question is actually a harder one to answer than she thought it would be, and Midge takes a moment to think about it. “Roses are classic,” she answers, “but I like peonies and dahlias too.”
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"Roses, peonies, and dahlias," he counts with his fingers. "And you looked like a cute chickpea in your new dress. This may be just a silly theory, but I thiiiiink pink is your favorite color."
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“You looked very handsome in that suit,” she continues. “It was hard for me to keep my hands off of you.”
Flirting is even more fun than light conversation.
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As a grin appears on his face, he carefully stretches a leg to touch her foot with his.
"So I wasn't imagining things," he teases. "Playing with me in a private room - you're a very dangerous lady. I kept wishing I could keep you there for a few more hours..." He leans in and winks as he whispers. "The danger of getting caught makes it more thrilling."
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She taps her foot back against his. “There will be other private rooms,” Midge says, “ones that will probably be more comfortable than that one.” A shiver of desire goes up her spine at his whispered words and she can’t help herself. She has to push it further. “And what would you do with me if you had me all to yourself for a few hours?” she murmurs.
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She's asking for more right at the table of a busy restaurant, and what else can Jaskier do but provide? Midge is going to drive him crazy, he can tell. The magic of connecting with another artist, the sparks are on a different level.
"I would crawl under your skirt--" His foot raises to caress her ankle. "Take off your panties with my teeth, and show you exactly what the trained mouth of a singer can do."
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There’s something exciting about having this conversation in the middle of a restaurant, talking low with their heads close together. Even if they’re in public, no one is really paying attention to them.
“I think I’d like that,” she tells him quietly. “How long do you think you can stay down there?”
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Does this stop him? Of course not. He'll use his jacket and the bags - perhaps walk behind her. Which would probably make it worse, but also so, so much better.
"As long as you need me to." His foot raises a little more, this time to caress her calf. "As long as your legs can keep you standing. I wonder, how many orgasms are required to make you collapse on my lap?"
Whoops they didn’t even make it to the date
“Do you want to find out?” It’s gone beyond cheeky teasing now and Midge feels like she’s on a train that cannot be stopped. She quickly does some figuring in her head: her parents should be out until evening. Her kids are with Joel.
“My apartment is empty,” she tells him.
lmao biggest whopsie ever
"It seems I'll have to steal makeup right from your bedroom."
That's a yes.
They didn't finish their lunches and he doesn't care, but he does make sure to tip generously. Jaskier walks behind Midge as they leave the mall, both of them walking in quite a hurry but still making sure that their bodies keep brushing all the way to the exit.
Once they're in the back of a cab, Jaskier spreads the bags on their laps, saying something about being careful with the fine fabrics. In truth, it's all a trick to have cover as he drops a hand on Midge's thigh and gives it a light squeeze.
Sorry not sorry?
She eyes him in the taxi when she feels his hand on her thigh. Sitting as closely together as they are, she’s sure he can feel the heat coming off of her, see the pounding of her heart in her chest. He keeps his hand there, enough to tease her and drive her wild as they take what feels like the longest taxi ride ever.
If Jaskier isn’t lost in his lust, he’ll notice that they’re entering a nice part of town. The building that the taxi parks in front of is large and fancy. After quickly paying the cabbie, Midge grabs Jaskier’s hand and pulls him inside.
Thank God nobody that she knows is around. She doesn’t want to have to introduce him right now or explain this later if it gets back to her parents. The elevator ride is agony and Midge almost loses control with his hands on her body. They’re almost there though. Just a few more minutes…
She pushes the door to the apartment behind them and is pressing her lips to his before the door even closes. The kisses are desperate, a little moan of satisfaction escaping her mouth at such a longing finally satisfied.
oh never apologize
All the bags are dropped to the floor as soon as Midge pushes him against the door. He gasps in surprise but it's short-lived; there's no hesitation in the way he kisses her back. Jaskier wraps his arms around her and presses her body against his, his whole body shivering in pleasure at the feeling of her breasts against his chest.
Her desperation is nothing but flattering, yet Jaskier can't help wondering if nobody has taken care of her since the divorce. Their first time should be good, an opportunity to get to know each other's bodies. So he captures her mouth in his and tries to guide her into something more sensual than frantic, kissing her like she's the most precious thing and basking in every second of it.
If Midge cares to let her leg slip between his, she'll notice the tent on his pants slowly growing.
Excellent
When he slows down it feels like her heart might burst out of her chest and something other than lust swells up inside of her. It’s no less hungry though. Her fingers sift through his hair as they kiss, not stopping until each of them are gasping for air.
As she pulls back in order to lead him to her room, her eyes drift to the obvious bulge in his pants. With a breathless laugh, she tugs on his hand and leads him down the hallway to her bedroom.
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The little trip down the hallway isn't wasted: Jaskier drops his jacket and his boots in the way, always an expert on undressing on the run. As soon as they enter her bedroom, he grabs her by her waist and pulls to press her body against his again. A new gasp escapes him when she brushes against her obvious bulge.
This time, his mouth falls on her shoulder, leaving light kisses that make their way up her neck and ear. He whispers Midge with a deep voice full of desire before capturing her mouth again. His tongue searches for her and he feels that electrical shock of raw want hits his entire body when they meet.
As he deepens the kiss, he lets his hands roam, caressing her back with calloused fingers.
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Her hands move to his chest, unbuttoning his doublet, something that she has most definitely never done before. As his hands roam her back, she pulls her mouth away from his for just a moment.
“The zipper is back there,” she says, sure that he’ll be able to find it.
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He can't help but chuckle at the mention of the zipper and buries his nose in her ear to speak. "I know where it is. Another wonderful invention, I must say - love the easy access." A bit of nibbling her earlobe before talking again. "But I thought my goal was to climb under your lovely skirt. Are we changing plans? Or will you let me feel the fabric on my skin while I taste you?"
Since she's eager for more undressing, he decides to both grant her wish and prove his point by taking off his shirt, leaving his upper body bare. His tuning fork necklace rests on his very hairy chest, and there are little scars and scraps caused by years of being on the road with a witcher. There's one big one, though, a slash that starts at his back and goes around the side of his body to end at his ribs.
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Midge hums her approval of his plan and takes a moment to slip off her heels while he takes off his shirt. She pauses at the sight of his chest, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” Of the few men’s chests that she’s seen, she’s never seen one so muscular before. It’s not what she was expecting to find under that doublet. One of her hands digs into his chest hair while the other traces over the definition in his abs.
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Jaskier lets out a little happy sigh when she starts touching him, enjoying the feeling of her warm hands on his skin. He hums every time her fingers move, encouraging her to explore more but also expressing how lovely it feels. While she plays, he undoes his belt and lets his pants drop, stepping out of them before toeing off his socks.
The white briefs are tight around his swollen groin, and a small wet spot at the front proves how much he wants this. Remembering the conversation they had about sexuality, Jaskier decides to play with Midde a little. He steps closer as he grabs her hands, guiding them behind him to drop them on his (very perky thanks to years of walking) ass.
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She watches as he removes his pants, her eyes on the bulge in the front. A little frisson of desire runs through her. Then, he’s grabbing her hands and moving them to his backside.
It’s a surprising move, but she recovers quickly and gives his ass a squeeze. “I like what I see and what I feel.”
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Then he kisses her again, taking a moment to suck on her tongue before breaking it. Don't worry, though, he isn't going anywhere: he kisses her cheek and makes his way down to drop open-mouthed kisses on her neck. His hands fall on her waist and slowly go back, too, to return to the squeeze to her lovely bottom. Every noise she makes is music to his ears, and he wants to keep playing her like a lute until she reaches the highest notes.
"I'm guessing marking your neck is out of the question, Madam Comedian." Considering stage presence and all.
After another kiss to her cheek, Jaskier starts to bend his knees to lower his body. He buries her face in her breasts, rubbing his cheeks against the soft fabric of her dress. His hands go down as he does, caressing the back of her legs.
Once he's finally on his knees, he grabs Midge's foot and drops another kiss on it. Raising her skirt just a bit is enough for him to lick his lips, which he does while maintaining eye contact with her on purpose. After a wink, he disappears under the dress, calloused fingers grabbing her actual thighs skin-to-skin while his mouth closes around them, offering more open-mouthed kisses dangerously close to her underwear but not getting quite there yet.
"But are your inner thighs a fair game?" It's a sincere request for permission, which he demonstrates by letting his teeth lightly graze her skin during another kiss.
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When he disappears under her skirt, she widens her stance, spreading her legs for him. He’s already between them, sucking at the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
“Yes…” He can mark her there. Her thighs are more often than not covered by clothing. “Trying to mark your territory?”
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"More like trying to make a canvas out of you."
He barely finishes saying you before he's already nibbling on the skin of her inner thigh, gently but firmly. He then licks and sucks with gusto, knowing what the result will be even if he can't exactly see under her skirt. This is just round one, anyway. He can admire his art when he undresses her later.
His arms close around her legs to hold tightly as his tongue licks a trail up her thigh until he finally reaches her underwear, which is soaking. He smiles against the wet fabric and nuzzles it to both tease and bask in the smell. His own body is burning and the sensation is amplified by the fabric of her dress brushing his back and head, driving him crazy.
His tongue starts to slowly lick her panties, occasionally pressing in to tease her folds. It's an addictive feeling to be buried into a woman like this and hear the noises she makes while he plays her like an instrument. Jaskier finds pleasure in every little noise Midge makes and like an expert conductor, he waits for her to reach peak desperation before he finally grabs her panties with his teeth and pulls down.
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Not being able to see him, just being able to feel him, is turning out to be hotter than she thought it would be. “Fuck,” she hisses as his tongue swipes along her, probing at her folds. Instinctively, Midge starts to rock her hips gently against his face, wanting more as he heightens her pleasure.
When he moves his head, she almost curses at him, then realizes that he’s gripping her panties with his teeth in order to pull them down her legs.
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"♫ Dip me under where you can feel my river flow and flow / Hold me until I scream for air to breathe / And wash me over until my well runs dry ♫"
(This song is not about geography.)
Calloused fingers caress Midge's legs as they make their way back up to reach her ass, squeezing tightly as Jaskier speaks. "That rocking from before? Keep doing it."
And without warning, he just dives in.
It only takes two seconds for him to become addicted. His hard dick aches every time her taste floods his mouth and her smell invades his nose, but it's such a delicious ache, which makes his body sweat and causes a wonderful contrast whenever her skirt brushes against his wet skin. His fingers never stop massaging her butt while he joins her song with noises of his own, sounding like a ravenous man having a feast with every lick and suck.
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A little gasp escapes her mouth when he grabs her ass. “You got it,” she replies.
Jaskier eats her like a man who hasn’t had food for days. All Midge can do is hold on tightly to the vanity and moan out her pleasure. She rocks her hips more forcefully this time, trying to get him to focus his tongue on her clit. He seems intent to explore her completely, and even she can’t protest that very much. She feels like she’s being devoured in the best way possible.
“Jaskier… yes…”
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If she wants him to focus on her clit, then her wish shall be granted. Jaskier closes his mouth around it to suck on it as if his life depended on it, making sure to pay attention to her moans to find the spots she enjoys getting licked the most.
This doesn't mean he won't explore her anymore - what is he, a monster? A hand leaves her ass so calloused fingertips find their way between her folds. At first, they just caress gently, massaging as they gather her wetness. When his fingers are drenched, they tease her etrance before his index goes in, moving slowly at first but joining the rhythm of his mouth one he's sure she's fine and enjoying herself.
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Her free hand rests on top of his head, scrunching her dress as she digs her fingers into his hair through it. Midge needs to hold on to him, to have something solid to rock herself against as he brings her closer and closer to orgasm.
His fingers are a welcome addition. As he slicks them up, tracing her opening, little pleas issue forth from her lips. Midge’s eyes flutter closed, just focusing on feeling him drive her to the brink of madness. There’s a moan of satisfaction when his finger slides into her heat.
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His movements do fumble a little, though, when she grabs his head through the fabric of her skirt. He groans against her clit, his hips bucking into the air in desperation. His own blood is boiling thanks to the heat of the dress-tent, her taste on his tongue, and the wonderful music she's making that strokes his ears.
A second finger soon slides in as well and Jasker groans again as she feels how tight she is around his digits, his cock aching more at the mere chance of doing the same later. Both fingers go as deep as they can and curb inside, teasing her walls while his mouth continues to make obsene sucking noises around her clit.
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Midge’s thighs tremble and she gasps for air, hips stuttering against his face. She can feel the wave of a powerful climax build quickly inside of her until it finally snaps. Her walls contract around his fingers and she wails for him.
“Jaskier!”
Her whole body trembles now, knees buckling slightly as she rides out her orgasm. It’s been forever since she’s come this hard and she never wants it to end.
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"Come for me, darling."
And then it goes back to work, letting his tongue lick away all her fluids as she comes on his face. His fingers stay buried inside her and help her ride out the orgasm; teasing, rubbing, and caressing until she can't stand on her own any longer.
Even during the aftershocks, Jaskier stays with his nose buried in her curls, making sure he's milking her until the last second. Only then does he finally move, letting the skirt fall back in place on its own as he stands up.
His dry hand gently cups her face to make sure she's looking at him when he licks his lips very slowly. The shine on his nose and skin around his mouth proves how deep he put his face in there, and he doesn't regret a single second of it.
"I didn't think you could get any more gorgeous, yet here we are." Her post-orgasm face is absolutely perfect, and he wishes he could just look at it for hours to keep it as inspiration for erotic poetry. He stares at her hungrily now as he takes a step forward, trapping her between the dresser and his sweaty body. His hips can't help but rub against her dress, and he has to bite down another whimper so he can ask- "I take it you had fun?"
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It’s a reassurance. No man who didn’t like women would press his face so thoroughly into her cunt and make her come that hard.
Midge grins when she pulls back from the kiss, though she stays close to him. “What woman wouldn’t have fun with a handsome man’s face between her legs? I hope you’ll do that again.” After another brief kiss, Midge reaches down between their bodies and cups his cock through his underwear. “First, I think we ought to take care of this. I’m also feeling very overdressed right now.”
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Handsome man, huh? Jaskier grins and nods at her request, willing to do it as many times as she wants to. However, whatever he's about to say is lost when a very needy groan leaves his mouth as Midge cups his cock.
"Midge..." His voice begs as he buries his face in her neck, hand grabbing the dresser on both sides of her as he starts rubbing his aching erection against her hand. "Please..."
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She kisses Jaskier’s temple and ruffles his hair with her free hand while the hand on his cock traces the outline of it. She can feel him throbbing and the need to have him inside of her grows immensely.
Gently, Midge pushes him back so that she can turn around. Reaching behind her, she unzips her dress, looking coyly over her shoulder at him. After the dress drops to the floor, Midge unhooks the clasps to her bra and lets it slide down her shoulders.
She turns to him, completely naked. Her body is fantastic, her breasts large but still perky. Even so, there are things she’s self-conscious about. The only noticeable scars that she has are faded stretch marks on her lower abdomen.
(poem by Roque Dalton)
Not complaining about the view, though, that coy look could make man come on the spot. He kisses her shoulder before letting his own underwear fall to the floor too, hissing as the fabric brushes his erection. It stands hard and proudly, average in length but thick enough. The precum at the tip shows how desperately in need of release he is.
Midge is a beauty to behold, and Jaskier can only lick his lips again at the sight. He doesn't even notice the stretch marks - how could he, when he has many scars of his own? Mostly little nicks and nips, but there's a slash on his ribs, claw marks on one leg, and a cut on the other thigh. Not to mention his own stretch marks on his neck. And this is still nothing compared to Geralt.
Marks on one's body are great - it means you survived.
"When you strip for me with your eyes closed, you fit into a glass that rests on my tongue." With need and lust in his blue eyes, he comes closer and drops his hands (sorry for the sticky fingers) on her waist, calloused fingerprints playfully tracing patterns on her stomach. "You fit into my hands like bread I’m hungry for, you fit beneath my body more exactly than its shadow."
He dives in for a new kiss, this one quite needy and clumsy compared to his smooth start, while his fingers reach her breasts to rather enthusiastically play with them. His thumbs rub her nipples until they're perky, perfect for him to pinch.
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Midge eyes his naked body, very pleased with what he has to offer. His cock is lovely, although the sight of it has her uttering a little oh. She’s never seen an uncut dick before. Having only slept with Jewish men in the past, all of her past partners have been circumcised. Midge isn’t deterred by the fact that Jaskier isn’t circumcised. It was simply surprising to her. Different.
Midge wraps her arms around him and gives him a sly smile. “Are you making that up on the fly?” If so, it’s pretty impressive, considering how aroused he is. Even if it isn’t, she thinks it would be hard to remember poetry at a time like this.
She opens her mouth against his when he kisses her. She sneaks in a little giggle and happy sigh when he cups her breasts. Midge likes when a man plays with her tits. Meanwhile, her fingers trace over Jaskier’s fantastic abs. They get dangerously close to his cock, but Midge is a bit worried that he’ll explode the moment that she touches him.
lmaooo poor Midge. and yes, you're correct, he's uncut
"It's an old one," he replies as he shakes his head. "But trust me when I say: after this, I'll have inspiration for days."
Inspiration for writing or for times with his hand? Yes.
That hand is driving him crazy, and Jaskier can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around Midge and picks her up - he isn't a witcher or particularly sporty, but Midge is petite so he can carry her for a short distance without issues. Their legs hit the bed and he just lets them stumble down, putting his hands on the mattress to catch his weight and avoid crushing her.
Cornflower blues stare at her with deep desire, and a deep voice asks- "Tell me what you want," as he lets the tip of his cock sneak between her thighs. His whole body shudders at the contact.
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“Glad I could be your muse,” Midge replies. The idea of that is more pleasing to her than she might have thought.
Her arms wrap tightly around him as he lifts her and then lays her on the bed. Her pulse races when Jaskier gets on top of her. With her hands caressing his chest, Midge puts her legs up over his hips.
“I want your cock inside me,” she says, her blue eyes boldly meeting his. She can feel his cock between her legs, pressing at her folds.
sorry, had to
He teases her entrance with his cock, a gasp escaping him at the wet, marvelous feeling. "Your wish is--"
Suddenly, he freezes, eyes widening as he remembers something. The groan that follows is one of frustration. "Fuck." His head falls on her shoulders. "I forgot about-- the wrapper. Thingy." He means condoms. "For my cock." Hard to remember a new word when there's little blood in his brain. Poetry is different; it's automatic. "Please tell me you have some here because I left the box in my jacket, currently decorating your hallway floor."
at least somebody is thinking about protection
With her foot, she points to the bedside table behind him. “There should be some in there.” A relatively old box left over from when she was still married.
he's very paranoid about pregnancy so learning about condoms in this world was a blessing
The box is easily found and Jaskier unrolls a condom while climbing back between her legs. "Want to do the honors?" he asks as he passes it to her.
aww no kids for him?
Midge rips open the packet and pulls out the condom. Placing it on the (admittedly strange looking) tip of his cock, she rolls it up, her fingers teasing him along the way. Once it’s secure, she gets back into position with her legs over his hips.
“Now, where were we?”
nope. but even if it was a maybe, he'd still not want an accidental one with casual lovers
As soon as her legs wrap around him, Jaskier is already bending over, catching the end of that "we" with a kiss. He uses a hand to guide his cock inside, letting out a long and loud moan as her warmth and tightness surround him. The kiss is broken so he can look in her eyes and make sure she's comfortable, then he starts moving.
His thrusts are slow at first - desperate may he be, but he likes a good fuck, and he isn't around to ruin it by coming quickly. He keeps showering her with kisses as he sings for her, being as noisy and loud with his moans as he is in regular talking. She feels absolutely divine around him, and every time he buries himself deep into her, he can feel his whole body melting under the waves of pleasure.
"So good for me," he whispers into her ear between groans. "So fucking good."
absolutely fair. Midge is probably good on kids too.
Midge moans softly as he fills her, adjusting slightly so that she’s comfortable before he starts to thrust. Once she’s sure that he’s positioned well, Midge gives him a little nod to continue.
His movements are languid and she squeezes her walls around him with every slow thrust out. She can’t help but admire his self-control, considering how aroused he is. “Fuck,” she murmurs. “Mmm, that’s perfect…”
Midge wraps her arms around his neck, one of her hands tangling in his hair.
yes good, now she can just have fun
He's one hell of a sucker for praise.
His thrusts start going faster and get a little more frantic - so do his words. There are no full sentences anymore, just Midge's name and little words like yes, fuck, and so good. Since she's holding on to him pretty damn well, he lets one of his hand reach between them and grab her breast, squeezing and pinching with gusto.
yep ;)
“Jaskier…”
It seems that he likes feeling her hand in his hair so she keeps it there, tugging gently. She tries to gauge how close to orgasm he is and whether she will need to reach down between their bodies and stroke her clit in order to come again.
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Midge doesn't have to worry about her orgasm because Jaskier always makes sure to take good care of his lovers - he has a reputation for a reason. As soon as he hears his name said like that, his hand leaves her breast to reach for her clit instead, his thumb rubbing with as much desperation as his thrusts.
"Midge... so close..."
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She moves her hand, grateful that he wants to take care of her. She’s content to lie there and let him keep working above her while he enjoys the sensation of her tight heat around his cock and the sight of her breasts bouncing with each thrust.
“Let go… come for me…”
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Mind blank with pure bliss, a panting Jaskier collapses on top of Midge, his face looking for skin to nuzzle as his first post-orgasm instinct is always a cuddle to enjoy the aftermath. When he regains his breath, he remembers that he's still inside of her and she hasn't finished, so he doesn't hesitate to get back to work.
He doesn't pull out yet, hoping that keeping her full will help with her orgasm. His hand works her clit while his face descends to her chest, sucking and nibbling on a perky nipple.
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Fortunately, Jaskier hasn’t forgotten about her. She’s glad when he doesn’t pull out. Pushing them onto their sides gives him more balance so that he can touch her. Midge hitches her leg high on his hip, opening herself wide for him.
“Yes… like that.”
It hasn’t taken him very long to learn what she likes. As his thumb teases her clit and his mouth sucks at her nipple, she can feel her pleasure growing exponentially.
“You’re so good to me…”
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"Is this alright?" His thumb never leaves her clit, but one of his fingers teases her entrance, attempting to go in together with his flacid dick. "Or would it be too much?" He then nibbles her ear before whispering. "I can always pull out and only use my fingers to play you like a lute... but it's up to you."
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“Pull out and use your fingers,” she asks with a whimper. “Please.” The idea of him playing her like a lute is very appealing.
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"I'm guessing you've never taken fingers and a cock at the same time?" His first finger goes in rather easily, thanks to how wet she is. Jaskier lets it explore, touching every wall and curling to try to find that sweet spot. "It's marvellous." Someone is speaking from experience here. Another finger goes in, knuckles flexing as he studies his face, analyzing every noise she makes to find the right notes. "It makes you feel so full." With that, he adds a third finger, and now he can start thrusting in rhythm with his thumb playing with her clit. "Sing for me, darling."
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Between his hands and the words being whispered in her ear, Midge feels electric, with so many of her turn ons being engaged at once. After having his cock inside of her, one finger doesn’t feel like much, but then he keeps whispering to her, keeps adding more…
His fingertips brush over something deep inside of her that hits her like an electric shock. Her eyes shoot open and she moans out her pleasure for him, her hips stuttering against his hand.
“Oh fuck,” she cries out. “Keep going, just like that…”
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"Such a dirty mouth for a self-proclaimed lady. Proud of your manners may you be, yet here you are now, so wet and open for me..."
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Her blue eyes are on fire as they meet his, her hips continuing to push back against him. She’s wide open for him, not caring if it makes her seem desperate or unladylike. His fingers make lewd sounds every time he thrusts them into her wet cunt. Jaskier keeps bringing her up closer to her sweet release, then stopping before she can get there.
“Please…” she begs sweetly, “please make me come.”
[ OOC: Eat your heart out, Jaskier ]
oh she looks absolutely gorgeous
How can he say no to such a sweet request? Seeing she's reached the point of desperation, Jaskier thinks it's time for her to let go. He buries his fingers as deeply as possible and enthusiastically rubs her special spot, with his thumb copying that rhythm on her clit. After one more kiss on the corner of her mouth, he pulls his head back to watch her come.
"I missed it while I was under your skirt, so show me now - show me how gorgeous you can be while you come for me, darling."
i know!
When it finally subsides, she relaxes on the bed, boneless and speechless.
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He doesn't let go until she collapses. His fingers reach his mouth and he quickly sucks them clean before collapsing next to her. The condom full of cum is still on his dick and he doesn't give a fuck, he just wants to enjoy the moment. Gentle hands bring Midge to his hairy chest, and Jaskier kisses her forehead before nuzzling her hair, a sticky hand drawing random shapes on her back.
Soon, he's humming a happy little tune, just content to cuddle.
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“I see why you were so highly recommended,” she said.
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"Glad to hear my reputation continues to precede me." He raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you asked around? Checking the reviews before buying the tickets?"
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“Not necessarily… just trying to see what kind of guy you are… whether you’re discreet.”
She’s not embarrassed by anything that they’ve done, but she’d also rather it not be spread around the club.
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"That is probably the last adjective anyone would ever use to describe me," he says between chuckles. "But I get what you mean - bedroom privacy. Worry not, there won't be any gossip about our unladylike activities. I can't promise my next song won't be about your tits, though. But anonymous tits, if that helps."
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Midge grins when he mentions writing a song about her tits. “Not to brag, but they’re pretty spectacular.” She stretches her arms up over her head, showing them off.
“Seems like you enjoyed yourself too,” she says, her eyes flicking down to his cock.
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"Never? Really?" He tilts his head. "I never thought you were ashamed, the lady thing was just teasing. Gods, a beautiful woman like you must've received so many propositions..." Yet she saved herself, huh? Jaskier's look and smile soften. "Your ex-husband didn't deserve you". Maybe he can hire Geralt to punch Joel. Just for fun.
The comment about her breasts makes him laugh, and he drops a kiss between them while he answers that they are.
When Midge looks at his cock, Jaskier finally remembers the condom and carefully takes it off, tying it up while he answers. "Oh, absolutely. Orgasms hit differently when two artists come together with a spark. And you're incredibly sparky." He winks before looking around. "Is there a place where I can throw this without your family seeing it? Unless there's a hot sibling you haven't told me about." Just kidding. Maybe.
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She wishes she could keep him there with his mouth on the tender skin of her breasts, but both of them need a rest. Reluctantly, she leaves Jaskier’s embrace to get some tissues to wrap the used condom in. “My hot sibling lives in Poughkeepsie.” And as far as Midge can tell, wouldn’t be romantically interested in Jaskier.
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Jaskier makes a ball with the tissues around the condom to make it look like a regular paper ball before Midge throws it in a trash can. When she comes back, Jaskier is sitting on the edge of the bed, and he drags her down to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I'd love to do this again," he says before kissing her cheek. "But there's a conversation we need to have. Considering the order of events has changed, I don't know if that's something you want to do now, or after our date, if the date is still on the table at all...?"
She's the one who never did this before. As happy as he is to show her the ropes, he better keep an eye out for whatever she may be feeling about it.
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“I’d like to do this again,” she tells him, “and… yes, I’d still like to go on a date with you.”
It’s hard to say what this is between them and Midge isn’t sure if she wants to decide that right now. She’s being guided purely by emotion at this point.
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"Then we shall have this conversation after our date. Nothing could possibly go wrong after a few drinks, right?" Just a bit of teasing before he captures her mouth in his for a soft, lazy kiss.
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She runs her hands over his chest as they kiss. “How did you get muscles like this?” she asks.
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"Gods, the things I'd do to you. Your folks would be back before I was done listing them." His mouth chases hers for more kisses while a hand caresses her back. "Lots of walking and playing monster bait. I dance while I sing, too. And I supposed we should count all the fucking as exercise as well."
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“Oh is that it? All the fucking gave you these abs?” Her fingers trace the muscles. “You played monster bait?”
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Don't mind him. It's no possessiveness, just his ego.
"All the fucking keeps me young," he jokes back. A nod. "Geralt kills the monsters, I sing about it. Now I think about it, I suppose I'm a sort of manager too."
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“I’d love if you took me before a performance,” she breathes. “Bent me over my vanity in my dressing room and pulled down my panties…”
She’ll come back to Jaskier being Geralt’s manager later. Her mind is a bit occupied at the moment.
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"I'm definitely up for that," he replies with no hesitation. If it wasn't for his own gig this Friday, he'd even make plans now. "A vanity with a mirror, correct? Is that what you want, Midge? To see your own face as I pound into you? To admire your own tits while I pinch them?"
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Midge straddles his lap, her hands digging in the hair on his chest as she hungrily kisses his jaw and neck.
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He gasps when she straddles his lap, because she's quite obviously not the only one who has been aroused by the conversation. Jaskier's dick has had time to rest and is slowly waking up. He mumbles a fuck when he notices she's wet against against his cock and his hips can't help thrusting a little.
"Eager to go for a ride?" he asks as he throws his head back to expose his neck (and its very light stretch marks) to all her kisses.
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She moans softly when his cock slides through her folds. “Yes. Would you rather lie down or sit just like this?” Both positions have appealing aspects to them. Midge kisses his exposed neck, not realizing that the striations that she’s looking at are stretch marks.
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He hums his appreciation for the kisses while his hand reaches behind him, patting the mattress to find the condom box. Thankfully, it didn't fall too far, but he doesn't do anything with it yet. Midge has taken control of the situation, and Jaskier likes it. He wants more.
"Both very tempting options." He lowers his voice like before, since she clearly likes it. "I'm in your hands, my witty lady. Show me this side of yours - let it out. It's earned some fun."
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Midge gets up on her knees and guides his head to her chest, wanting to feel his mouth on her breasts. With a sigh, she runs her fingers through his hair. There’s something so luxurious about doing this in the middle of the afternoon when other people are working or running errands. Time has seemed to stop for her since they entered her bedroom.
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Realizing that this area is also usually covered, Jaskier nibbles and licks her inner breast, making a new hickey canvas to match her thighs.
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She giggles when she realizes what he’s doing. “Adding to your other artwork?” she asks. Midge doesn’t mind the marks, as long as they aren’t done in place where she might have to explain them.
Gently, she rocks her hips back and forth, pushing his hardening cock through her wet folds. That alone is a wonderful sensation, but it makes her yearn for more. She’ll have it soon enough.
“What did you touch earlier?” she asks. “Inside me… something that made my orgasm so intense.”
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It's her next question that makes him freeze. He pulls back with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, and he has to stop his brain from opening his mouth with the worst comment for the occassion (this is why I fucked married women).
"...you've never touched it before? Not even with your own fingers?" He wraps an arm around her and lets his hand reach her entrance from behind, circling it with a calloused fingertip to gather her wetness before going in. "Nobody has taken good care of you, dear. I'll have to fix that. Thoroughly." His finger curls, searching for that spot again. "Most women have a sensitive spot inside them that can be stimulated for a better orgasm. Men do too, in fact, just at a different entrance."
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“I didn’t know it was there,” she says breathlessly. A lot of women don’t even know their clitoris is there, let alone men.” And men have it as well?
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Judging by the hands pulling his hair, he doesn't think she will, which just feeds into his bad habits.
"Indeed we do. And you're welcome to play with mine any time you want." He winks before taking his fingers out. Her breasts bounced on his face when she yelped, and that has reminded him that he's supposed to be letting her take control. He can't help it - if he sees a needy woman, his first instinct is to please her. His fingers are quickly licked clean before he tilts his head. "If you have more questions, I'd love nothing more than to answer them - and mayhaps demonstrate. The reins are in your hands - express your wishes, my lady."
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Coming back to reality for just a second, she sneaks a look at the clock. They still have some time. Then she looks at the erection straining against his thigh. Jaskier’s already shown that he can be patient even when he’s aroused and waiting. He’s letting her decide what they do.
“Would you show me?” she asks somewhat shyly. “Maybe if I sit like this…?” Midge turns around in his lap so that her back is to his chest. “Show me how to find that place inside me and then I’ll ride that beautiful cock of yours.”
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"It'd be my honor."
His hands don't get down to business immediately, though. They fall on Midge's shoulders and start going down slowly, teasing every inch of skin they touch on their way. Jaskier drops a kiss on her neck before his mouth returns to her ear, since she likes it so much there.
"How well do you know your own body, darling? So many people have been taught to be ashamed of exploring." He grabs her hand and gently guides her finger to her very wet entrance, then by holding her wrist he makes it thrust a few times, very slowly for now just for the sake of build-up. "I want you to promise me that one day, you'll fill up the bathtub, play some relaxing music, and let your hands be your own lover. Don't leave part of yourself untouched."
His hand then cups hers as his finger joins Midge's inside, guiding it to the magical spot and showing it how to curl just right.
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“You’d think that women who’ve given birth are very familiar with that particular part of their body, but they’ve been taught it’s dirty to touch.” Midge isn’t that repressed, at least. “I know about my clitoris… I’ve had to show men.” Most men are absolutely clueless when it comes to a woman’s body, and then there’s Jaskier showing her things. “I promise.”
Her eyes are riveted to their hands between her legs. There’s something incredibly erotic about having both of their fingers inside her at the same time. Midge spreads her thighs more so that she can push her finger in deeper and be guided to that spot. When she finds it, she inhales sharply, resting her head back on Jaskier’s shoulder.
“Right there…” Midge rubs the spot in circles, starting slowly for now.
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"I'm not surprised. But to be fair - I wasn't so different. I had to learn too. That's what university is for, now isn't it?" And when a bunch of teenagers are living together away from their parents, well. Things happen.
Jaskier is grateful for Midge throwing her head over his shoulder because it makes it easier to admire the view. Masturbating makes her look absolutely stunning, and Jaskier wishes they could do the mirror thing now, but- baby steps. He's about to say something but Midge opening her legs and leaning back is capturing his very hard dick between them, so he needs a moment to inhale as well.
"Yes, that's it," he whispers in her ear while his free hand reaches for her breast. "Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous." His finger comes out but only to add a second of hers, showing her how moving them like scissors will do wonders. "Understand the touch of your hand. Be the mistress of your pleasure."
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Scissoring her fingers heightens her pleasure and she gasps before moaning openly. Midge’s other hand moves down between her legs in order to stroke her swollen clit in tandem. The sensation is unlike anything she’s felt before, like her whole body is alive with pleasure. Her thighs start to tremble and her back arches as she gets closer and closer to another powerful orgasm.
“Jaskier!”
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It seems she's gotten the hang of it, so Jaskier removes his hand and joins the other one on her breasts, massaging and pinching in a rhythm that matches hers.
"Such a fast learner. I'm so proud of you." He drops kisses all over her neck and face. "Can you be a good girl and finish yourself for me?"
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Does Jaskier know that she enjoys being praised? Maybe Yennefer isn’t the only one that’s a witch. He certainly seems to have bewitched Midge in under 24 hours.
Her hips buck against her hands. Between her own hands and Jaskier’s hands teasing her nipples, it feels like her entire body is about to explode with pleasure. Midge stiffens and then tips over the edge, her orgasm bursting inside of her. It’s possibly the most intense orgasm she’s ever had; she feels like she’s swimming in a sea of pure ecstasy. Sounds come out of her mouth, but they’re more noises than words.
When she finishes, she slumps back against him, panting, speechless and boneless.
(poem by James McLain)
After she collapses, Jaskier gently cradles her in his arms and makes her sit across his lap for some cuddling. All the brushing and bumping against his cock has him biting his lips, and he has to stop himself from just fucking her thighs.
After a kiss to the top of her head, he recites. "In this euphoria, senses entwine, / A universe of pleasure, divine. / Body and soul in passion's embrace, / A fleeting moment, love's sweet grace."
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After he recites those verses, Midge hums against his skin. “I need to introduce you to Shakespeare,” she murmurs.
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"Now that name I recognize. It's the first one everyone mentions when I explain I'm a bard. I've been going through his work." He rubs Midge's back while he talks, glad to have Literature as a topic to distract him from how needy he feels right now. "But I'd love to get more recommendations for you. I think you can learn a lot about a person through the stories they like."
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“I studied Russian Literature in college. Not sure if you’d like those stories; they’re rarely happy.” She absently strokes the hair on his chest. “My favorite Shakespeare play is ‘Much Ado About Nothing’. Maybe I can find a local production for us to go see.”
Midge gives him a long, slow kiss. “That… was amazing. I’ve never come that hard in my life.” Her body still feels tingly in the aftermath.
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After they have that conversation, though. They keep bringing up ideas that require them to have that talk now instead of Friday, but they keep getting distracted. Like the delightful kiss Midge gives him now. Jaskier happily kisses back, a little needy whimper escaping him in the process.
"It's a sin that you never were able to explore such a thing - but I can't deny I'm feeling rather proud, smug, and honored at the moment." A wink. "You're an artist. You bring pleasure to your public every day. You deserve to get as much in return."
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She turns in his lap so that she’s straddling him again. “Maybe when I touch myself like that in the future I’ll think of you.” Another kiss, before she reaches for the box of condoms. “Would you like that?”
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"My, my - such a promise... I'm starting to think you like torturing me." His hands fall on her thighs, slowly making their way up and then around to squeeze her butt. "I've created a monster." And he loves it.
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He’s made her feel so good today that he deserves the ego boost. Before pulling a condom out of the box, Midge remembers something from earlier that he seemed to enjoy. She puts the sticky fingers that were inside of her up to her lips, slowly sucking her index finger all the way into her mouth and then out again. She offers him her middle finger to suck on while she gets a condom with the other hand.
Her fingers licked clean, Midge tears open the condom package and places the condom at the tip of his cock. “Let’s see… you made me come three times today.” She rolls the condom down his cock. “Do you think you can make it four?”
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His nails accidentaly dig into her skin while he watches her suck her finger, cursing under his breath at the sight. He said earlier that her mouth would look wonderful around his cock, and the mental image hits him really hard now. Before he can ask about their next position, Midge is offering her finger, and who is he to say no? He takes it into his mouth with clear expertise, sucking on it and licking the tip with gusto. It's not hard to guess what he's practiced on.
Jaskier gasps when she touches his cock, and the hand rolling the condom down makes him body shiver. He needs release immediately. "Four? Rookie numbers, my lady." He grabs his dick and teases her entrance, but he doesn't push in. "I believe you promised me a ride."
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“Oh really?” She teases. “I guess that means the goal is five next time.”
No more teasing. Midge sinks down on his cock with a moan and begins to rock her hips back and forth on top of him.
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He throws his head back to let out a really loud moan when she sinks down without warning, proving once again how feisty she is. It'll be easy to teach her to be shameless, he realizes.
Jaskier wraps his arms tightly around her, fingers digging into her skin as his face buries in her neck. He pants and groans with every movement of her hips, his own body trying to thrust in return to meet her. This is her fourth round and she's still so fucking wet for him, that alone is madenning. She's tight, and warm, and just perfect, making every inch of his body tremble with pleasure.
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Midge has never come this many times in one session before. She tries to relax her mind and focus on the pleasure, how good he makes her feel, in order to bring herself back up again.
“You like that?” She asks cheekily.
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"Like what?" he replies, attempting to sound cheeky too, but mostly panting between thrusts. "Your voice? Yes." He captures her mouth in a short, clumsy kiss. "Your tits? Yes." He buries his face between her breasts, rubbing his nuzzling and dropping a few open-mouthed kisses. "Your cunt? Fuck yes." He thrusts extra hard then. "So wet for me still. So eager and needy. How many times would you let me fuck you in a day, I wonder?"
It's then that he finally notices her hand on her clit. He grabs it by the wrist and takes it to his mouth so he can suck on her wet fingers while his own hand takes the place between her legs.
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“As many times as you want if you keep making me come like that,” she pants. “Your cock feels so good.”
Her knees dig into the bed as she rides harder, tightening her walls around him with each stroke out.
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"I hope you know a good hotel, then." Because there's no way they'll be able to have a sex marathon in either of their houses. Yennefer has given him a potrective charm for his room and that works for quick fucks, but Midge deserves food and a shower. Not to mention fucking in other surfaces.
It's hard to keep talking when she's tightening around him like that. Jaskier cries out as he tries to keep up with her rhythm, his thumb taking care of her clit as they move in perfect sync, artists trained in the dance of pleasure.
(He refuses to finish first this time. He has a reputation to maintain.)
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“I’ll find one.” If they’re going to continue meeting like this, they’ll need a hotel. There are too many people in her apartment to use it on a regular basis. They just happened to get lucky this afternoon.
Midge can tell that he’s trying to have her come first this time, which might be a challenge considering how strong her last orgasm was. She helps him out by slowing down her pace. Her eyes slide closed and her lips go to his ear.
“Tell me how my cunt feels… how it tastes…”
She needs a little more than physical stimulation in order to come this time.
[ OOC: I’m around for the evening now! ]
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"Piquant. Rich. Aphrodisiac." Poetry is harder when his cock is deep inside her like this. He drops kisses on her chest, neck, and shoulders, giving his brain a pause to think. "Madenning. Addictive. I could drink you for dinner like a fresh pint of ale. Spread you open on a table and just feast."
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“Yeah? How long could you keep your head between my legs? How many times could you make me come?”
It doesn’t have to be poetry. It can be pure filth and she’ll lap it up.
(poem author unknown)
"Midge," he whispers with the naughtiest tone he can achieve. "I'm a singer. And I dance while I sing. My lungs are strong and capable of going through lots of exercise." Another pause as he tries to think of a song to prove his point.
"♫ Splayed halve, Spread wide, Honey pooled within a pitless center. ♫" It's not his best singing, to be fair - they are still fucking after all. Every time she moves, it gets a moan out of him. But he thinks that the fact he can sing at all while never fogetting about her clit is still impressive. "♫ Pinkish flesh glistened in wet; The perfuming scent of her glistening nectar. ♫"
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“Yes… it’s all for you. You make me so wet, so…” Another sweet moan as she quickens her pace again, chasing the orgasm that is rapidly building inside of her. “I’m going to come for you.”
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His hands fall on her waist to help her ride along while his face falls on her breasts again, having learned how much she likes it there. There are no more words, just the music of their moans as both their bodies desperately hunt for that wonderful little death.
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“Jaskier!”
Slumping forward, she rests her forehead on his shoulder as she keeps rocking her hips on top of him, squeezing her cunt around his cock and waiting for his release.
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Once he's come through, he falls back on the bed, bringing Midge with him for the obligatory cuddling. Soon he's humming again.
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They cuddle close on the bed, Midge smiling at the fact that he’s humming again. She kisses him sweetly, brushing his hair out of his face.
“I had fun today.”
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"Me too. And I would love to do this again. Multiple times." A pause as he considers some options while rubbing her back. "I said before that we could talk on Friday, but since the subject of 'next time' keeps coming up, well- I don't know how stable your post-orgasm brain feels to do so at the moment."
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She props her head up on her hand and looks at him. “We can talk.” Midge feels good. Satisfied, but not completely brain dead. She strokes a hand over his chest, gently fingering his tuning fork necklace.
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But he knows that if he postpones this, it'll be worse. He's already dealt with enough scorned lovers to learn his lesson. He sighs as he considers how to approach this.
"In many opportunities, Geralt has called me a hedonist. And I can't exactly deny it. I like enjoying myself. I like my freedom, I like fun." His hand never stops rubbing his back while he looks at her directly in the eye, hoping she can see he's serious but also how much he wants her. "That means I don't do relationships. Romantic ones, I mean. Tried once - well, twice, same person. She wanted a husband at home. I wanted to see the world."
The Countess of Stael also had an issue with his feelings for Geralt, but Jaskier doesn't think that's relevant.
"Friendships I do appreciate, and you'll find me extremely loyal. The three crazy immortals at home can attest to that. So if you want just a friend who can support you through your career and go shopping with, you can count on me. If you want a-- what is it that they call it here?" A second to think. "Friend-with-benefits? I can be that, too. Either choice would please me greatly. But if you want courting, I'm afraid that's not an option." His hand finally leaves her back to cup her cheek. His eyes soften. "If you don't want to see me ever again, that would hurt, because I've enjoyed your company, fucking or not fucking. But I'd respect that as well."
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Still, there’s a little stab of hurt in her chest. He doesn’t want me. I’m not good enough. Midge quickly tries to dismiss it. Those are her own insecurities after the failure of her marriage. Jaskier not wanting to be in a relationship doesn’t have anything to do with her.
She takes a deep breath before speaking. “Thank you for telling me that.” Midge wonders what the woman who wanted him to settle down was like. “To be honest… I don’t know if I want a romantic relationship either. After Joel…” She trails off for a second. “Besides, I have my career. That’s where my focus should be. That and my kids.”
“But, I would really like it if we were friends, and I’d also like it if we did this again.” She laughs lightly. “At the risk of sounding like a repressed housewife, this was… incredible. I really needed this.” Midge feels so relaxed that she could probably sleep for hours. Orgasms are great stress relief.
She gently drags the tines of the tuning fork over his chest. “You would do this again? When I need you? Or you need me?”
He’ll probably need her far less, as he’s got any number of lovers, male or female. Midge doubts that she’ll be sleeping with anyone else.
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His face beams when she agrees to be her "special" friend and he chuckles along to her comment. Taking care of repressed housewives is his specialty, but considering the Joel thing, better not bring that up.
"You honor me with your friendship," he answers before kissing the top of her head. Hearing her next question, he happily laughs and turns his body to drop her on the mattress. "We'll do this again, and again, and again--" Each word is punctuated by a kiss to different spots on her face. "--and again, until you can't walk anymore. Because you need me, or because you're horny, or simply because it's fun. We don't need a reason to have fun." He winks. "You have my number. And if you contact me while I'm in a swamp with Geralt in the middle of nowhere, then I'll gladly describe what I'd do to you on text. You know what to do with your hand now."
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She gasps in delight when he rolls her over onto her back, giggling as he kisses her. Despite her mouth and her stubbornness, Midge is decidedly feminine. Having a handsome man on top of her, kissing her, after he gave her four incredible orgasms, is going to produce some giggles. She can’t even be ashamed of it.
“I do. I’ll practice next time I’m in the tub. Also, I want to hear all about the adventures that you and Geralt have when—“
She’s cut off by the slamming of the apartment door.
“Miriam?” Her father calls. Then: “What’s all of this?”
Midge’s eyes go wide and panic grips her chest. “Shit!” she hisses.
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Midge's eyes aren't the only ones that go wide when they hear Abe's voice. Repeating fuck over and over, Jaskier immediately gets off her and runs to the window to check if they're at a jumpable height. The building is too high, but there's a fire escape, and that's another thing he likes about this world.
It's clear that he's had to run from angry families in the past, be protective fathers or cuckolded husbands. He gathers the few clothes he can find and dresses very quickly while talking in panicking whispers.
"Pleasepleaseplease tell me you can retrieve my things?!"
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She lowers her voice to talk to Jaskier. “Yes. Just stay in here and try to keep quiet. You can leave through the fire escape.”
Midge leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Abe stands in the hallway, a look of confusion on his face. “Miriam, why is all of this stuff here?” He asks. “This isn’t a landfill to just dump your things in.” He looks up at her. “Are you feeling well?”
Go with it, she thinks, realizing that her face must be flushed and her hair a mess. “Oh, no, Papa,” she groans. “I got home from shopping and just… I felt so weak, I just dropped the bags and got into bed. I’m sorry.”
Quickly, she picks up her shopping bag and Jaskier’s, then turns to his doublet lying in the hallway.
“What is that?” Abe asks.
“Oh,” Midge replies, “that’s one of Ethan’s coats.”
“Ethan has a coat like that? With brocade?” Her father’s tone is skeptical. “It looks way too big for him.”
Midge picks it up casually, trying to stay calm. “Brocade is in for boys. They’re calling it the bard look. I always buy his clothes big, you know how fast he’s growing.”
“And the lute?”
Midge freezes. Jaskier’s lute is carefully propped up against the wall at Abe’s feet. Midge gingerly backtracks to retrieve it. “Also Ethan’s,” she says.
“Ethan has a lute.”
“Yes,” Midge insists. “I told you, the bard thing is huge right now.” With all items in her arms, Midge scurries back toward her bedroom. “Papa, I really feel lousy, I’m going back to bed, okay?”
She closes the door to the bedroom behind her and leans back against it, letting out a deep sigh.
LAUGHING SO HARD AT ETHAN'S LUTE
When Midge enters the room, Jaskier walks toward her and takes his things while whispering, "Lying to your father for me while naked under your robe. You're lucky we just finished, or I'd have another hard-on right now."
Jaskier finishes putting on the rest of his clothes and hangs his lute on his back, but he doesn't leave quite yet. He puts his arm around Midge's waist and brings her close for a short but still very deep kiss. "Talk to you later? I'm still not sure what the device etiquette is."
KIDS HAVE LUTES OKAY
She’s looking forward to hearing what he thinks of her comedy.
JASKIER AGREES ACTUALLY
Escaping through windows is something he's used to, but he's never had to do it with a bunch of shopping bags before. Thank the gods for the fire escape. He only gets to walk two blocks before he realizes something.
Soon a text arrives on Midge's phone.
I promise I'm not being clingy, but I find myself in a little dilemma: we never did make-up, and if I return home with gifts for only half of the family, I may lose my cock. Would you mind recommending something for violet eyes? And the creams for my skin, since we're at it. I still have some kohl, but if you want to explain how to replace it now, I won't complain.
jaskier trying to teach Ethan to play the lute would be a disaster
After flopping onto her bed, Midge sighs as she looks at the ceiling. Being friends with benefits with Jaskier is for the best. He’s not the type to settle down, and maybe marriage isn’t for her anyway. Her first marriage ended in disaster.
The ping of her communicator breaks her thoughts and she grabs it to look at the message.
Well, I can’t have you losing your cock, not after I’ve come to like it so much.
There’s a drug store on the corner where you can pick up some makeup and face cream. It’s not the same as B Altman but we can go back another day. For you, you’re going to want black eyeliner.
She also sends a list of brands she recommends.
imagine Joel's face tho
For the rest few hours, he concentrates on finishing his shopping and finding the right subway to get home. It isn't until he's at home in a warm bath that he texts Midge again. He's really getting to like how these devices always get him someone to chat with.
Nothing like coming home to your best friend's judgmental stare because he can smell your sweaty activities.
he’d probably think it was hilarious
After dinner, Midge is helping Zelda bring the dishes into the kitchen when she gets Jaskier’s text. She excuses herself and scurries into her bedroom.
Why so judgmental? Is he not getting enough?
Also, that’s kind of unnerving that he can smell things like that.
Can he smell that Midge was the one that Jaskier was with?
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Jaskier sips some wine and almost chokes at the rest of the comment. He's forgotten what Geralt's abilities are like to new people.
I used to believe so too, but after two decades, I'm used to it. I'll admit I wasn't precisely happy the first time I realized he knew if I masturbated while we camped, but nowadays it's fun seeing him use it on others.
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You can have a shower next time. I remembered that Ethel and Irving Goldberg left me a key to their apartment in Midtown in case I ever need a place to stay after a gig and it’s too late to come all the way home. They’re friends of my parents’ from temple and they travel a lot. They’re gone more than they’re here.
I’ll bet that was an awkward way to find out that he could smell sex.
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Alas, no, I'm a mere human with youthful looks, a golden voice, and a great ability to rhyme. I'm guessing you're fully human too, correct?
Friends with double housing, huh? She really has money and friends on the same social status. Jaskier looks at the screen for a moment and hopes this won't bite him in the ass later. He's charmed ladies in courts and mansions, but only for one-night stands - not counting the Countess de Stael, and we know how that ended. Hanging out with Midge may mean being dragged into that circle again, just like he was a kid. He doesn't miss it.
That sounds absolutely perfect. It means I can bend you over the couch and the kitchen table without interruptions.
At that time, I was indeed mortified. Now, we've seen each other naked so many times, that day has become just another funny anecdote. Actually, I think it's funny, Cirila thinks it's gross.
She loved the dress, by the way. Thank you.
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Your cock is special, though I’d argue that your fingers are even more special.
Me? I’m a goddess.
Let’s try not to break any of their furniture.
I’m glad she liked it. My ex-father-in-law owns a garment factory and he lets me buy from him at wholesale prices once in a while. I’ll pick up a few more things for her. I’m sure it’s hard for her coming to a whole different world as a teenager and having to navigate hell - I mean, high school.
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Oh, of course! How could I not tell! A goddess that requires oblation in the form of sexual gratification may be the only organized religion I get behind.
That's incredibly generous of you. Thank you. Cirilla has been doing well. She was lost at first, and she still has a few bad days, but you know - typical stuff for her age. All in all, she's quite happy here. We were in the middle of a war at home, and she's been through some... things. It's one more reason on the list for why we don't want to go back.
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I’d like to hear more someday about what your home is like, if you feel like talking about it.
[ occ: I’ve been in the car traveling all day so thanks for tagging with me today! ]
glad you had a good time :)
I'll share all the stories you want. Although I shall warn you, if you think women have it bad here, at home, it was much worse. From what I heard about your history here, it seems it was the same when you had castles and knights around.
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Until now. It’s all the rage for young boys, I hear.
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Does Ethan have any interest in music? Or in arts at all?
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Unfortunately, no. Ethan doesn’t have many interests period, except for Howdy Doody.
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Maybe you should get him an instrument after all. Enrich his mind before he ends up with one of those sports ball thingies.
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Not to inflate your already massive ego, but you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met in a while.
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Excuse you, my ego is nothing but healthy and boastful!
That said, allow me to return the compliment. It's not every day that I meet someone capable of matching me in wit. Being with another artist does make a difference, doesn't it?
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You do back up a lot of what your ego says.
I never knew it would, but it does. It… felt different with you.
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He's only half serious.
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Seriously, I’ve never had a man quote poetry to me in bed, or sing a dirty song to me while we fucked.
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You haven't been treated well, I'm afraid. The 'repressed wife' persona doesn't fit a wild soul like yours. We shall correct that as many times as possible. Your dressing-room mirror is already on the list, but anything else on your bucket list? I'm all ears.
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The frustrated housewife persona is part of my act, though not all of it.
You want to know my desires?
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Ah, but an act is an act! We may put part of ourselves in our art, but our presence on stage is still carefully curated. In private, I want you to follow your heart.
Yes. If it pleases you.
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You’re right… though I never want to be seen as fake. I know people like that, who act one way on stage and completely differently off. I want my persona to still be me.
Well… not that you don’t already know this, but I really liked it today when you spoke such naughty things in my ear. I also liked it when you praised me…
That’s a little embarrassing. It’s easier to say over text rather than face to face.
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I wouldn't say "curated" means the same as "fake". One means choosing what to show, the other one is lying about it. I really like that you're so true to yourself, though. It's refreshing.
An eager ear for the mouth that won't stop talking - we truly make a great pair. That's easy enough for me to fulfil (and indeed, praise is absolutely delicious). Anything else? Or is that the biggest thing the "repressed housewife" could think of?
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Oh, I’m sure there are things I’ve never even thought of. I like the idea of you fucking me on every piece of furniture… what about in the shower or the bath?
I want you to take me from behind too.
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The bath has also become a favorite in this world. Tubs are so spacious here. And the instant warm water! What a marvel! I think we may have fun grooming each other.
From behind - you mean just the position or the actual entrance?
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Ethel and Irving have no idea what they’ve done.
You want to wash my hair? I might like washing your long hair too.
Oh, I just meant the position, not…
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He just pulled that out from his ass, but it's poetic and he'll stick to it.
Washing your hair, soaping you up, massages... you get the idea. I believe grooming is a whole different level of intimacy, don't you agree?
That's alright, the position shall be then. We won't do anything you don't want to. And as I said earlier, if you want to play with my spot, that's available too.
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Yes it is. Soaping up my body, perhaps. Both of us get very dirty.
It’s… something we might have to work up to.
I’m afraid I don’t even know what else I might like. Do you have any ideas based on what I’ve already told you?
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Well, since we're both lovers of fine fabrics and beautiful fashion - have you considered lingerie?
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I should ask the girls at the club where they get their outfits. Those are more risqué than what I have right now, unless you enjoy a classic look.
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I think you could tell that I enjoyed that suit on you today. There’s something so hot about having sex with your clothes on… removing just enough so that you can be inside the other person.
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Agreed! It's why I was dying to get under your skirt - besides the obvious reason. Sex with clothes on speaks of urgency and passion. Does that mean I should wear the blue suit tomorrow night?
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I loved when you ate me out under my dress. Ultimately, I think I’m a simple woman, Jaskier. I like when a man is attentive and makes me orgasm hard.
If you wear that suit I may end up having to find us a private space backstage so that I can show you my appreciation for it.
You also mentioned that my mouth would look good around your cock. I intend to find out just how good quite soon.
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What can he say? All those years walking next to Geralt have given him strong thighs and a perky butt. The next text has a bit of a delay because that last part is giving him quite a mental image.
You'll never lack attention with me, I can promise you that much. And I would love to see your private space backstage. For professional reasons, obviously.
Gods, Midge. You can't make me such promise while I'm naked in the tub imagining it.
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I guess I really am a repressed housewife. I just want mind blowing sex where a man worships me. Today pretty much fit the bill.
The problem is that there isn’t much private space at this club. It’s not like The Wolford where I have my own dressing room.
Is thinking about me down on my knees in front of you making your cock hard?
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Hey, don't put yourself down like that. You're young and newly divorced. Now it's time to get to know yourself again. Try new things, explore a little - in every aspect of your life. And if by the end, you still simply want mind-blowing sex and worship, that's alright as well.
I'm sure we can think of something to do with that suit tomorrow, worry not.
Stop. I'm supposed to join my family for dinner soon.
That's a yes.
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Thank you. My tits are always a big hit with men. Very few men have seen them completely naked though.
Except for that time at The Gaslight, if that counts.
I want you to help me explore… if you’re up for that.
Okay, fine, I’ll stop teasing you.
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I hope this question doesn't cross a line, but - how many men have had that honor? Besides me.
She says she won't tease him anymore, but the fact she wants him to teach her everything is erotic on its own.
It'd be a great honor to be your mentor in this journey. Just make sure to say nice things about my cock on stage.
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She’s sure that’s an extremely low number to him.
Quite bold of you to assume that I’m going to talk about your cock onstage.
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Don't tell me you made it to your wedding night untouched.
Because that's a terrifying thought.
If you don't make a story out of your father almost walking on us, I'll eat my hat.
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Midge has always been sassy, but she’s mostly been a good girl. She knew she wanted to wait to have sex for the first time until she found the man she wanted to marry. Considering what Jaskier said about the place that he comes from, he shouldn’t be surprised that she hasn’t slept with many people. Women here seem only slightly more free to make their own sexual decisions than they are on the Continent.
Still doesn’t mean that I have to mention your cock as part of it.
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I don't know, I think it was a very important part of it. Some could even consider it the protagonist, if you will.
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Did you hear how that sounded in your head before you typed it out, Jaskier?
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You're right, I'm sorry. Clearly, the protagonist was your liking my chest hair.
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It’s true. I did like your chest hair. I wasn’t expecting it, nor was I expecting all those muscles in your chest and stomach.
About your cock… do you know about circumcision?
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So when you think about it, we like each other's tits. I'm afraid I don't know that word, but please, tell me more about my cock.
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I guess we do. I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.
It’s a practice where a baby boy’s foreskin is removed from his penis. Different cultures and religions here practice it, including Jews. It’s an ancient practice and it’s considered a rite of passage in the Jewish religion. It’s actually becoming more popular amongst non-Jews in the US because it’s considered more hygienic and can help prevent some venereal diseases.
All that to say, I had never seen an uncircumcised penis before I saw yours.
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Alright, give him a second, he almost dropped the device in the water.
I actually know what you mean. Kind of. I didn't know the name, or the details. But I've met a few guys in Rainbow Road like that. It almost killed the night the first time I saw it, I was quite disturbed.
So you... did that to Ethan?
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Eight days old. Fuck. Jaskier drank directly from the bottle again, this time to drown the mental image. He takes a moment to relax before writing again, not wanting to send this conversation to hell with just one message. He promised respect after all - but man, this is truly testing him.
Well, then. I'm glad my cock became the sample of what a complete man looks like.
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Circumcised men are not incomplete. Both of the previous dicks that I experienced worked just as well as yours.
We may need to agree to disagree on this.
Midge has no regrets about circumcising her child; if she had another boy, she’d circumcise him too. It’s prescribed for Jewish men in the Torah. It just is.
Jaskier isn’t Jewish though and she doesn’t care if he’s uncircumcised. It didn’t stop her from sleeping with him. Differing views on circumcision would be a dumb thing to end this friendship over.
[ OOC: imagine if Abe had physically caught them and seen Jaskier’s dick and instantly known he wasn’t Jewish. Yikes. ]
laughing so hard at the idea of Abe freaking out not because of the lover, but because of the dick
...I was trying to make a joke.
A pause. A sigh.
I should get my arse to dinner. See you tomorrow?
that’s exactly what would happen lololol
That’s the one problem with communicating like this. Tone and intention are lost sometimes.
Enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.
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Many a artist have pre-show rituals. Does that affect comedians too?
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You mean other than downing a martini?
I guess the only ritual that Susie and I have is that we tell each other ‘tits up’ before I go onstage. What about you?
And how are you today?
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"Tits up"? Oh, I love this. Absolute perfection. Confident, encouraging, AND sexy! A threat on all fronts.
Me? I down a drink sometimes, too, but those got rarer with the years. (Rarer before a performance, I mean. I'm still an avid drinker.) If Geralt is around, I send him to sniff the audience, then I know what to expect.
He has something with his fingers since they got burned during torture, but he doesn't want to talk about that.
I'm well. Getting ready to spend most of the day arguing with a bunch of old men about what counts as "fair payment" for magical services. And you?
The uncut dick was too good for her to quit talking to him
Geralt is sounding increasingly like a dog. What is he sniffing out?
Is that on Geralt’s behalf?
I’m getting ready to argue with children about whether putting pants on is a good idea.
lmao priorities
On behalf of the family. Geralt and Yennefer aren't the most social or pleasant people, so I do all the talking and negotiation. (And damage control.) Cirilla sometimes helps them, but we've been trying to keep her in school.
I'm afraid I shall be on the side of your children - lounging in your underwear can be quite relaxing.
exactly
Using that silver tongue of yours for good?
Unfortunately we aren’t lounging though. We’re running errands.
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Oh. Then have you considered that they're doing no-pants fashion to avoid going?
It's the kidn of shit he would do as a kid.
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Very much so. That’s exactly why they’re doing it.
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Do you actually need them for the errands? Because this little pants problem can be easily solved without stress by leaving the kids at home. You have free nannies after all.
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True, Mama is here. They’re going with their father tonight though so they need to put pants on at some point.
Can I ask you something?
Should I be planning to stay at the Goldbergs’ apartment tonight?
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Does your ex pick them up? Let it be his problem.
I suppose that will depend on how the date goes, and your mood after the gig. I won't lie and say I'm not up for it, though.
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They need to be dressed when he gets here though. I’ll wrestle them into pants later.
I’m going to choose to be optimistic. What’s your favorite color?
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Oh, my. Be careful, I wouldn't want you to accidentally moan over breakfast with your parents (hilarious as it could be).
You need to relax before your show. Let him do the wrestling, it's the least he can do.
"Optimistic" sounds very promising. My favorite color is yellow/gold, but blue is a close second.
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I’m in my bedroom, so I’m safe.
Duly noted, thank you. Yellow like your namesake, my sweet Buttercup? And blue like your beautiful eyes?
She’s smitten. That sex was really good.
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Yellow like the sunlight reflecting on your smile, and blue like your eyes in the middle of an orgasm.
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It’s fun being able to flirt with a handsome man, especially one that can match her in wit.
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Quite bold of you to assume that I’m going to write songs about your orgasms.
Just returning the teasing.
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Touché! But you did say you were going to write a song about my tits.
(credit: Charles Simic)
They bring on their nipples
Beads of inaudible sighs,
Vowels of delicious clarity
For the little red schoolhouse of our mouths.
all these men writing naughty poems
I’m going to refer to your mouth as a little red schoolhouse from now on.
it was hard to find something poetic and not just raunchy
I used to give lectures at my university and now I'm teaching you (more naughty) things, so it's fitting. Do I have to name your breasts as well?
Not surprising lol
I think I should be the one to name them, since I hope they’ll be with me for the rest of my life.
[ OOC: one of my “shitpost” songs for Midge is Coconuts by Kim Petras and now I want Midge to call her boobs Cartier and Tiffany. ]
Cartier and Tiffany lmaooo
I'm going to say this as affectionate as possible: every time I learn something about your father, he sound even more boring.
That makes sense. I saw books at the library that apparently list names for new parents? Should I get you one?
i might just use it tbh
He’s one of the most boring men alive, and I love him dearly.
That might inspire me, thank you. I need names that would be good for twins.
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Oxenfurt is home. The whole city lived off students, researchers, and scholars. So you could consider it the capital of art and progress. Indeed, poetry and music were my main subjects. I also tried to tell the youngsters what the real world is like, but the dean didn't always like that.
Do they have to be human names? Your tits would make great Carnadhiel and Tarathiel.
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Oddly enough, there’s a city like that in England called Oxford.
I had a professor like that.
Those sound like something out of Tolkien (you should read him too). What do those names mean?
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Did you now? Did anything they said impact you? Were they well-liked by the students?
They're different shades of red. Carnadhiel means scarlet. Tarathiel doesn't have a direct translation; it's usually associated with dried blood.
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Oh yeah, we all loved him. English Lit, Professor Bernard. He challenged us to be free and independent thinkers.
As much as my favorite color is red, I’m not sure if I want to name my boob after something morbid like dried blood.
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He sounds wonderful. I'm glad to hear you still think of him years later. It's powerful to leave an impact on someone's life.
Dried blood, like scars, can equal survival. A celebration of pushing through. But I understand.
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As for Geralt, not much he can do about that color, other than to argue that it’s a shade of hazel. A beautiful one.
And before you protest, yes, Jaskier, your eyes are beautiful too.
Anyway. Maybe someday you’ll get to go to England. The United States used to be an English colony.
You really like those names, don’t you? Is it because my favorite color is red?
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I wasn't going to protest against a compliment I agree with. However, I will protest about your choice of shade. They're amber! Like a black cat.
I'd love to travel around this whole world, too. I want to get on those plane things. Flying must be such an amazing experience.
Oh, it wasn't about the names, they were just a random idea. It was about our perception of "morbid".
lol my bad
First a wolf, now a black cat…
Flying is great. Just don’t get on a plane with Susie or you’ll never know peace. She’s terrified of flying.
I guess we could always dive more into our perceptions of morbid, Professor Jaskier…
There’s a long pause where the three dots appear on Jaskier’s device, indicating that Midge is typing. Finally, she continues.
But not right now, I guess. The kids are torturing each other. I’ll see you tonight?
nah, no worries, makes sense. Midge wouldn't know
Good luck with the Great Pants War. See you tonight.
Arguing with a bunch of old men is as frustrating as he expected it to be. Perhaps even more, because they're bigots even though they don't know what a witcher is. It's insane. The thought of performing tonight and seeing Midge is what keeps him moving through the day.
He gets the second spot at Elftown, and it's a success as usual. The local elves have quickly taken a liking to him thanks to the songs defending their people he'd written back in his world. Some experiences are universal, and that's very poetic, but at the same time, it's depressing that the experience happens to be a race war.
All in all, he's in a great mood, and he wants to share this high with his new friend. He decides to do a little extra spending to keep the night going, and instead of taking the subway, he pays a taxi driver to go a little faster than allowed. Which turns out to be almost as fun as Geralt's bike.
He makes it to the jazz club right as Midge is walking on the stage, thank goodness. As much as he'd love to see her up close, he's afraid he may distract her, so he sits at the back and asks for a glass of wine. On the chair next to his, he drops his leather satchel, his lute, and a bouquet of roses - mostly pink and red, but also one blue and one black in the center, courtesy of certain witch's magic.
The blue suit is on - it's supposed to be a date, after all, and she seemed to like it so much. He's put on a yellow tie and bought a yellow pocket square to match. Both have gold touches for that extra spark. His hands have a few rings as usual, and he's added a button closure chain to the suit jacket as the final touch. The eyeliner Midge recommended frames his eyes, which currently follow every move of hers.
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She’s wearing the new magenta Dior dress that she got yesterday. Susie grumbled something about it not looking good with the lighting but Midge shushed her. She keeps looking out into the audience for Jaskier, though it’s dark and crowded. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if he stands her up? Midge hopes that he’s the type of man who keeps his word, otherwise whatever this is between them will end before it really even starts.
When Midge takes the stage she puts all of that aside. She’s electric, as usual, trying out a few new jokes that go over well. About 5 minutes in, she finally notices Jaskier at a table in the back and grins. Then, she’s all professional for the rest of her 30 minute set.
After taking her bow, she meets Susie over by the bar. Nerves grip her again. She knows that Susie and Jaskier are about to meet for the first time. Maybe she should have told him to wait until Susie left before approaching her. Midge can see him walking towards her with a bouquet of flowers.
This could be an absolute disaster.
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He's glad he's put on the blue suit, because she's left the black behind and is looking absolutely gorgeous in that dress. The "testing" they did at the mall in front of the mirror is becoming a reality, he realizes.
Midge is electric, feisty, honest, and absolutely hilarious. Jaskier laughs at every joke and is happy that "witty" has become his nickname for her, because she deserves it. Honestly, the act ends too soon - Jaskier is left wanting more.
He gives Midge five minutes with Susie before approaching her. Usually, he'd be understanding of post-show rituals, but they talked about sharing their mutual high, and he wants that for their date. (Besides, he wants to meet Susie.)
"Congratulations, my witty lady," he says as he gives her the flowers. "You were as hysterical as your reputation promised."
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“Thank you.” She takes the bouquet and lets her eyes rake over his outfit. He’s managed to take a modern suit and make it into something that suits his style without being outdated. He looks fantastic. “These are beautiful. Where did you find black and blue roses?”
Midge looks up and catches Susie’s eye. The other woman is silent, but the look on her face says it all: who the fuck is this?
“Jaskier, this is Susie Meyerson, my manager. Susie, Jaskier.” A beat. “We met in jail.”
Perfect.
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"Magic," he replies with a wink, wiggling his fingers.
Susie's look says it all, and if Jaskier had been younger, he'd find it intimidating. But after two decades of Geralt, Susie is nothing but a hissy cat. He still wants to make a good impression, though - mainly for Midge, but also because he needs contacts in the industry.
At the mention of jail, he can't help but shake his head as if scolding her, but it's clear he's just teasing, and he's amused by her comment.
"A pleasure," he replies with a bow. "Midge spoke highly of you - said you were the one to encourage her to pursue comedy. Allow me to express my gratitude, then, for sharing her with the world. You have a great eye."
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“Seems like your eye’s on my client,” she replies. “She’s got a lot of gigs. I keep her pretty busy.”
“He’s a performer too,” Midge cuts in. “A musician.”
“Oh God,” Susie groans, then looks at Jaskier again. “Is that why you’re dressed like Liberace?”
lmaooooo SUSIE PLEASE
Befriending sure is a way to put it. Jaskier winks at Midge as he leans against the bar. It's true, he's reining it in. Partly because of the whole "wanting to make a good impression" deal, but also because he isn't trying to hit on Susie. He doesn't think she's unattractive (she isn't!), he's just getting many Rainbow Road vibes in here.
"Midge and I have already discussed priorities, and ours happen to match: family and career. I just came running from my own gig, in fact." He puts a hand over his heart. "You have my word as a fellow artist that I want nothing but to see her shine. If she ever even thinks about missing a gig, I'll personally drop her on your lap through a magic portal."
:D
Of all the things Midge is, stupid isn’t one of them. Probably too emotional, in Susie’s opinion, and doesn’t always make the best choices when it comes to men, but still a smart woman. She’s allowed dalliances, and that seems like what this is. Susie can’t fault her for that.
“I get it,” Susie says to Midge. “You’ve got needs.” She turns her eyes to Jaskier again. Susie’s not sure if Midge has the right genitals to fulfill Jaskier’s needs, but there’s no way she’s bringing that up.
“He’s an Otherworlder,” Midge says in an attempt to explain. “He’s came here with people who can do magic.” She turns to Jaskier. “That portal thing sounds very convenient.”
“Fine,” Susie says. “I’m out of here. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” Her eyes move back and forth between Midge and Jaskier. “Afternoon.”
Susie wonders where they’re going to go to fuck, but that’s not really any of her concern.
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Honestly, it's cute how protective of Midge Susie is, and Jaskier is happy that Midge has someone like her. When Susie makes the 'needs' comment, Jaskier immediately laughs - and that laughter gets louder when 'afternoon' is added. Oh, he likes this woman already.
"A wise correction." He inclines his head as goodbye. "Have a good night, Lady Manager."
As soon as Susie has taken three steps away from them, Jaskier turns to Midge with a big grin and kisses her cheek.
"You were fantastic on stage," he says while offering his arm, intending to take her to his table. "But I wonder if the flowers were a good idea. They look ugly next to you."
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She puts her hand on Jaskier’s arm and leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek as well. “Oh stop it,” she says, though she loves being complimented by him. “That suit looks incredible on you.”
Truly, the more she looks at him in it, the more aroused she gets.
As they walk to his table, Jaskier will probably notice looks from a few men in the club who thought they were going to shoot their shot with a beautiful comedian tonight. They weren’t expecting Jaskier of all people to block them and now they’re sulking into their drinks.
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Jaskier steals a chair from another table for Midge so he doesn't have to move his lute and satchel, and she has a place to put down her flowers during their date. One thing that often bothers Jaskier about these clubs is the tiny tables. It's like being at shitty taverns again.
While Midge orders her drink and some snacks to share, he scans the crowd out of habit and notices all the sulking. He smirks, feeling rather smug.
"It seems some of your fans are rather passionate about you."
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Midge looks up from the menu in surprise. She has fans? Then she realizes what Jaskier is talking about. “It’s amazing that some men can listen to me complain about men for 30 minutes on stage and then still try to buy me a drink and chat me up afterwards.”
Orders placed, she turns to Jaskier again. “How was your show?”
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Jaskier won't mention the fact he'd be one of those men if he had met her like this. He sips his wine while casually leaning back, putting an arm on the back of Midge's chair just to mock those guys further. Oh, how smug he feels.
He beams at the question. "It was wonderful! Elves make for a great audience no matter the realm, it seems. They like the songs I wrote for their people back in my world, but after tonight, I've been thinking of changing them up a little bit. A reprise to fit their local troubles."
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Also lucky that she’s not looking for much beyond that right now.
“What changes are you thinking of making?” She’s sure the Elves have troubles, but Midge isn’t so involved with the community as to know what they are.
She pick up the bouquet and gives it a sniff, smiling at the sweet scent. “Why a blue one and a black one?” she asks.
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It may take a while, but he has time. The family has already decided they don't want to go home. Hopefully this world will feel like home soon.
"I wanted to do something different, and those colors don't occur naturally. But they're also dark, and I wasn't sure if you'd like a full bouquet of them. So I kept your favorites and only added those two as a little extra magical touch." His hand gestures a lot as he speaks. "Also I don't know how many I could convince Yennefer of making."
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The waiter brings her martini and a plate with rumaki, pigs in a blanket and deviled eggs. Midge holds up her glass to Jaskier. “A toast? To new friends?”
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The food looks amazing, and Jaskier is hungry. He came right after his performance, so he hasn't snacked on anything since teatime. But he's a man with manners, and he'll never say no to a toast.
"To new friends, and new experiences." He winks as he taps his glass against hers, then he takes a sip of his wine. "You called that one a Martini, right? What is it exactly made of?"
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It does make Midge wonder why they’re on a date at all. He said he isn’t going to “court” her. Aren’t dates part of courting? Unless this is a friendship date of some kind. There probably ought to be another name for something like that.
“L’chaim,” Midge replies, clinking her glass against his and then taking a sip. “Gin, vermouth, a twist of lemon and an olive for garnish.” She pushes the glass towards him in case he wants to try it.
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Jaskier recognizes only the olives and lemon, although the other things do ring a bell. He still takes a sip, because he's always open to trying new things. It's just a little sip, not wanting to take much from such a small glass.
"That's kinda bitter, isn't it?" His nose is wrinkling a little. "I wouldn't have expected it from you. Makes for funny contrast against our conversation about vibrant and morbid."
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“Did you think that I drink fruity drinks?” she asks. Midge enjoys a good mai tai every now and then, but her go-to drinks are a martini or old-fashioned, depending on how the night has been.
First dates are normally shallow. Getting to know someone. No religion or politics, especially after their disagreement yesterday. This isn’t really a date though, is it? Not a date that’s going to go anywhere anyway. Why not talk about philosophy?
“Do you feel like those are opposites? Morbid and vibrant?”
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He has a sweet tooth, and coming to this world has been a blessing. Everything has so much flavor! And chocolate? Mindblowing.
"That's actually a really good question." And he means that. He loves how smart she is. Good fucking isn't hard to find, but good companionship? That's a different deal. He munches on a pig-on-a-blanket while thinking about how to answer.
"I used those words because they came up in our conversation, so it was initially part of the teasing. But if we examine it closely, then-- it depends on the meaning we're going for. If it's only 'vibrant' as in the shade of a color, then no, they aren't opposites. Blood can be vibrant. The brightest green I've seen came from a monster." Not gonna detail what part of the monster, since it's disgusting and they're eating. "But 'vibrant' is also something alive, full of spark and energy. And in that case, then yes, it's the opposite of morbid. That said, a good story may have both. A good outfit may have a morbid touch and still be vibrant."
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“I think you’re right,” Midge replies. “That’s a good analysis. I guess the better question is if one is better than the other. Personally, I prefer vibrancy in most aspects of my life. There’s such a thing as having a morbid sense of humor, which I generally don’t think I have.”
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He tries the rumaki next, being his first time with that one. It's quite delicious, he'll have to ask for the name later.
"Geralt calls me a hedonist for a reason - I think enjoyment should always be the biggest part of our lives. And that's why I like you - because your vibrant preference matches mine. But that doesn't mean I completely turn down morbid. I have sad songs, infuriating songs. Songs about death and betrayal. Those matter too - we just need to keep an eye on the amount. Not let it take our happiness from us. Which is why people develop a morbid sense of humor."
A pause to sip his wine. "For the record, if morbid is the only humor someone has, then I shall agree with you - it's depressing. But being able to joke about the morbid is a useful skill. And I believe people in certain jobs develop it as a matter of survival. If they don't learn to joke about it, then the darkness will consume them."
Another pause as he looks at her, considering his options. "I'm not Geralt, but I can't deny that two decades on his side, in his line of work, have taught me that skill too. It's rare, since I turn to irony more than to morbid humor. But it may happen. And if it makes you uncomfortable, you just have to let me know".
Because Cirilla sure does like complaining about it.
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“Morbidity and morbid humor has its place, and I think all of us have some of it inside of us. As annoying as it is when a person is depressed all the time, it’s equally annoying when they’re happy all the time. I’d argue that’s actually worse.”
Hunting monsters for a living means that Geralt has probably seen some horrible things. Midge supposes it must be like that for soldiers or cops who solve murders. Morbid humor at least injects some levity into a miserable job.
“I don’t mind if you’re morbid sometimes,” Midge says, “but if you start grunting at me I’ll have to snap you out of it.”
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"I don't know if I'd call it worse, but I do agree that the other extreme is equally bad. Having a good cry is as important as having a good laugh."
And speaking of having a good laugh: the mention of grunting makes Jaskier laugh pretty hard. Seeing people being comfortable around Geralt and even teasing him because they haven't learned witcher bigotry in this world is still amazing, and Jaskier loves it everything. Not to mention Midge is just a funny lady, obviously.
"Aww, but I make such a great impression!" He frowns in the most exaggerated way he can achieve, making his voice deep and raspy. "Mmmh. Jaskier, don't touch that. Mmmh. Stop putting your sausage in the wrong pantry. Mmh."
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She snorts a laugh at his impression of Geralt. “There’s a wrong pantry for sausage?” she asks.
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"Not a literal sausage!" he exclaims between chuckles. "You are the right kind of pantry."
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“Do you mean that I’m the right kind… because I’m a woman?” Midge asks.
She doesn’t know how Geralt feels about Jaskier sleeping with men. He did say that where he comes from is even less accepting than here in that regard. But then, would Geralt be Jaskier’s friend if he was judgmental about the bard sleeping with men?
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"Oh gods, no." He looks horrified by the idea of Geralt hating him for that. "He doesn't like it when my fucking gets us in trouble, that's all. For example--"
His lovers may be married people. Right. Not mentioning that.
"--it may be women who were supposed to stay 'pure' until marriage and are going against their father's wishes. Or high-society ladies who shouldn't be touching a 'dirty' travelling bard. I've had many angry fathers and brothers threatening to cut my cock off for 'sullying' the women in their lives. Men aren't the wrong pantry for being men, the wrong pantry is not being careful about my flirting. Not hiding it may mean trouble too. Dangerous trouble." His voice and face have turned more serious at the end. He reaches for Midge's hand and gives it a squeeze. "I was only able to talk to you about it because Brandon did."
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“What’s to say our fucking won’t get you in trouble?” Midge asks with a little smile. “Or is it different with me because I’m already… ‘sullied’?”
Midge doesn’t like that implication, that a woman’s worth can be boiled down to whether or not she’s had sex and who she’s had sex with. She doesn’t think Jaskier buys into that bullshit, and she’s mostly playing devil’s advocate by asking him that question.
She can guess what her parents would think of him though. In a practical sense, he doesn’t have much to offer her other than sex and companionship.
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"You're an independent woman who is already breaking your gender rules and understands what I'm offering, instead of expecting me to bring more." He explains genuinely. Her smile shows she's teasing, but since they're touching a serious subject, it's not a bad idea to be clear about some things. "So you already are a more fitting pattern than probably three-fourths of the lovers I've had in the past. However, you're right, I can't be sure. You like trouble. And so do I." He winks. "Not to mention that your father would probably also want to cut my cock off."
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That’s why she’s seized this opportunity. When else in her life will she get to explore her sexuality for sexuality’s sake? Jaskier has no expectations of her and, for the most part, society doesn’t care who she’s fucking or why. Jaskier’s handsome, funny, clever and very good in bed. He’s the perfect person for something like this.
“He may want to cut your cock off, but he won’t,” Midge says idly. “Jews don’t cut all of it off anyway. Just the tip.”
Not to open up yesterday’s disagreement again, but Midge couldn’t resist the joke.
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This is the first time a joke of hers doesn't land, and Jaskier eats some more to hide his lack of laughter. Not going to ruin the date by bringing up that argument again.
He only talks after taking another sip of his wine. "Does that mean I do have a chance of charming your mother?"
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“Possibly,” Midge replies. “She’s much more easily charmed than Papa, and you’re quite charming.”
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Is this another thing he may be put Joel on the fucking stupid list?
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“Oh, we get along well,” she replies. “My family and Joel’s family still do a lot together because of the kids.” She sighs. “I’ve… forgiven him for what he’s done, at least in so much as we can both raise our children together.” Fighting and bitterness wouldn’t be fair to the kids.
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"I didn't mean to get you all serious, I just thought meeting the in-laws usually comes with funny stories. But I'm glad you're making it work for the kids." A long pause. He stares at his rings on his hand and the lute on the chair. "I haven't seen my blood family since I was 16. I may tell you the story some day, but for now, I only want you to be sure you know you're doing a fantastic job. I know broken, and you aren't it."
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“Thank you,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry about your family. When you want to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”
Midge wonders if he ever misses them. Even if they fought and said horrible things to each other, they’re still his family. She can’t imagine going that long without seeing her family.
Taking his hand, she examines the rings on it. “Did you buy all of these?”
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Her taking an interest in his jewelry immediately brings a smile to his face and he raises his other hand to show off those too.
"Some of them are from home, others I bought here. This one-" He takes off a wing ring and shows her the inscription inside. "--was a gift from the elves. That's Elder for 'sandpiper'."
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“Why ‘sandpiper’?” she asks.
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“Do you ever sing about your own heroics?” Midge asks somewhat teasingly, then leans up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.
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At that moment, a band takes over the stage, playing the jazz music that represents this place. Jaskier offers his hand to Midge.
"May I have this dance?"
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“You may,” she tells him, putting her hand in his.
The song is mid-tempo, easy to dance to. They get into dance frame with Jaskier putting one arm around her waist. Their bodies are touching, though not pressed together tightly.
“What kind of dancing do they do where you come from?” Midge asks. “I guess not any dancing to music like this.”
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She's warm against him and he has to resist the urge to bury his face in her neck.
"It depends. At court, everything is more--" A second to remember the words he's learned here. "like waltz. But with more variety in the steps. If you want real fun, you join the festivals and the taverns for people stomping to the rhythm of folk."
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“I can waltz,” she grins. “I had ballroom dancing lessons as a kid, which I hated at the time. Folk dances I haven’t done in a while.”
The two of them have great rhythm together, gliding across the floor. That’s not surprising, considering their rhythm in the bedroom.
“So, if you call me ‘my lady’, am I supposed to call you ‘my lord’?” she asks with a quizzical eyebrow raise.
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Of course she knows how to waltz - she probably had the same lessons he had. He's growing more and more grateful for having dodged meeting her father.
"How about swing? Do you know that one? I've been trying to learn. It looks vibrant-" A wink. "And so much fun."
He doesn't see the next question coming and he loses a step, almost tripping but recovering quickly. Calling women 'my lady' has always been a term of endearment (unless he was at court), and nobody ever threw it back at him after he left home. Even at court, they called him 'Master Bard'. It feels weird, as if he was a Pankratz again.
"I think I'll stick to Professor Jaskier. But I'd also love something that comes from Midge herself instead of my world."
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“We did a little bit of swing, but it wasn’t like you see in those films of people after the war being thrown in the air.” She was a kid, after all.
Midge puts her lips to his ear. “Oh you like Professor Jaskier, do you?” she murmurs. “I called you my sweet bard. I’ll have to think about what else might suit you.”
Knowing nothing about courtly manners (and Jaskier’s past), Midge had presumed that ‘my lord’ was the natural companion to ‘my lady’. She won’t call him that though if he prefers not to be.
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"I like that," he responds with a husky voice before kissing her temple. Flirting and dancing are such a delicious combination of two of his favorite activities. "Should I come up with a few more nicknames too, my witty lady? Bewitching Thespian, mayhaps?"
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“I like ‘my witty lady’,” she says. “I’m more of a comic than an actress. ‘Funny lady’ is an option too, but I like ‘witty’ better.”
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He moves them a bit faster across the dance floor, wanting to chase this fantastic high. When he finds enough room, he suddenly dips her with a laugh.
"I shall keep calling you 'witty lady', if that's your wish." He brings her back up. "I don't think Susie would like it if I call you Divine Curves in front of her."
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“And I’ll keep calling you my sweet bard,” Midge confirms. “Or perhaps my handsome bard?” She grins.
“Susie would roll her eyes, but she rolls her eyes at most things. I didn’t know that my curves were divine. Sent from heaven?”
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"Sweet handsome bard is too long, isn't it?" He teases back. Her next comment makes him laugh, too. "Divine as in superb, stellar, marvellous. I'm afraid you're too naughty for heaven." Another wink. "And I like it that way."
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The song changes to a slower one and the two of them slow their rhythm on the dance floor, each trying to catch their breaths. Midge’s body is still pressed to his, her lips inches from his as she speaks.
“I know. You like it when I’m naughty. How are you going to try to corrupt me tonight?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Because I’m sure I’m going to love every second of it.”
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"If I remember correctly, certain someone asked me to take her from behind." It's his turn to whisper in her ear, his pinky going just a little bit lower to tease her arse. "Would you like me to bend you over, Midge? To get you on your knees on the couch and let you stain the cushions? Will you display yourself for me?"
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“Is that before or after I suck your cock?” Midge murmurs back.
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"After," he replies after taking a moment to think about it. "You may help me take the edge off. Then I can slowly open you up with my mouth while I recover, and I shall last longer inside you. I'll pound into you until you're begging me to let you come."
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“That sounds incredible,” Midge gasps. “I have something to wear for you as well.”
Several things, though she doesn’t plan on bringing them all out tonight. The rest of them will be for future encounters.
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“She told me that she hoped I would enjoy myself. I felt… a little smug, because I think she was jealous.” A woman working in a store like that wasn’t judgmental, at least. “I was aroused thinking about your reaction to seeing me in the outfits.”
It’s truly not like any lingerie she’s worn before. None of them have a practical purpose. They’re designed to be removed quickly or languished over during a fuck. Midge hopes that Jaskier will like what she purchased.
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"You were right to be smug, my witty lady. Look at you, being all naughty in public. I'm so proud." He kisses her cheek. "I can't wait to see you in those outfits - knowing your taste, they must be marvellous. But for now-" He guides them through a whirl before talking again. "-we shall finish our dance, and our drink, and our food. And I shall keep talking sweetly to you, because dates are perfect to build up anticipation. Makes the final result more... explosive." He waggles his eyebrows.
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“Has that been sweet talk?” Midge asks. “It’s sounded rather naughty to me.”
As if she minds.
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"Can something not be both erotic and sweet?" he asks with a tilted head, offering his best 'innocent' expression. Jaskier knows exactly what she means and she's right, but he'll always use words to turn things around in his favor. "Specially when you happen to taste so sweet. I could drink you like fresh ale."
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“Maybe,” Midge replies, “but I think you knew what I meant. That innocent face is a pure lie.” She’s smiling. “What do I taste like, then? Candy? Strawberries?”
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"Right now, your mouth tastes like alcohol. Which is very fitting, because kissing you is addicting." He then leans in to whisper, "Your cunt is pure honey - sweet, rich, and refined."
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Midge sighs at his words, the honey already pooling between her legs. She orders another drink and then leans in to speak quietly to Jaskier.
“You like that you’re the only one getting to taste my honey, don’t you? You want to be greedy and lap it all up yourself.”
The pointed toe of her shoe starts to caress over his ankle.
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Jaskier is in the middle of biting an egg when Midge makes her comment, and he pauses in surprise. He'd put his hand on her back to keep on teasing her, so he doesn't quite get where she's coming from. It also makes him realize she isn't one to pick up other lovers, and he can't help wondering what that may mean. Not gonna worry about it as long as things stay cool, but it's a funny thing to notice.
He finishes his egg while considering how to answer - he doesn't want to lap it all up himself, he'd be very open to a third joining them for some fun. But he can't just say that. And while he isn't that kind of possessive man, he does like being a smug motherfucker when it comes to getting the wanted hottie in a bar.
When he feels her foot on his ankle, he grins.
"Look at you, getting more and more daring in public." He drops a hand on her thigh, taking advantage of the cover the table provides to rub it slowly. "I bet none of these blokes could handle how naughty you secretly are. They just want to put you in your place."
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She inhales and then exhales deeply as Jaskier rubs her thigh. “Maybe so. That’s why I’m selective.” Her brow furrows just a little. “I feel like you of all people don’t think it’s naughty to want pleasure, to be satisfied.”
They’ve joked about it, but Midge doesn’t feel as if she’s doing anything truly naughty. Society might consider it to be that way, but is there really anything wrong with two consenting adults enjoying their time together and finding pleasure with each other?
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"Oh, darling." He kisses her brow. "There's nothing wrong with wanting and pursuing pleasure. I like all the things you've shown me about yourself, I like that you've been finding a way to let go of what society has taught you thanks to the divorce and a career in the arts, I like that you've been finding your true self and you're embracing it. When I say that those blokes can't handle you, it means they're bloody idiots who can't handle greatness. Too wired by what is proper to enjoy what is wild. That's what I think about those who can't handle me either."
His hand next falls to her back, but this time it stays on the shoulder area, rubbing in a more comforting way.
"Language is complex, and oh, what a complex word 'naughty' is. I don't think being naughty is inherently wrong. Mischief is fun. I do use that connotation as part of the tease, however - it's part of the thrill. I just heard your act, know the topics you touched. Are you telling me you don't feel that thrill every time you go down the forbidden subject road? Do you not love the power to be 'improper' on stage?" He gestures the quotation marks. "You and I, like many an artist out there, know these things aren't actually wrong. But we bask in the feeling of doing what is considered wrong by others."
He looks directly into her eyes, wanting to be sure he isn't sending this date right into hell. "I'll stop using that word if that's your wish, but I want you to think about it and swear it's what you truly want. Because I'm willing to be you were as proud to be in jail as I was."
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“I like you too, Jaskier.” It’s hard to find people that support her wholeheartedly; she can count their number on one hand. Midge believes that he cares for her too, even if he doesn’t wish to be in a relationship. She hopes that won’t complicate things later. For now, she greatly enjoys his companionship - and his penis.
“I do,” she admits. “I like shocking people. Sometimes it’s the only way to get them to pay attention. You don’t have to stop using the word ‘naughty’. We both know that the meaning of it is nuanced.”
Midge has never been on a date like this before, where she’s discussed the meaning of words and general morality. Usually the conversation is about work and family. She and Jaskier have spoken about that as well, but this conversation is so much deeper, more intimate in a way. Slipping a hand into his, she squeezes it.
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"I won't lie, I'm relieved to hear that. I like using the word - and I like how rebellious you are. It's very inspiring." He winks, meaning he finds it a turn-on.
At that moment, the waitress comes with their second round of drinks. Jaskier has chosen a fruity cocktail this time, not too big - they can leave after they finish these ones. He raises his glass. "To being naughtily talented?"
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Midge picks up her drink and clinks it against his, giving an amused look at his colorful drink. “What did you order this time?”
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He takes another sip and catches a cherry, but he doesn't swallow either. Instead, he leans in and kisses Midge, sharing his drink in a more fun way.
I want that drink
After chewing and swallowing the cherry, she speaks. “I have a new word for you: incorrigible.”
now you have your weekend plans lol
"And you like it that way." He eats the other cherry whole, stem included. The munching seems to be taking longer than usual, and when he's done, he takes the stem and presents it to Midge to show off the knot he just made with just his mouth.
seriously
Midge sips her martini as she watches Jaskier chew. For a moment, she thinks there was something inedible in the drink. Then he shows her the knotted stem and she smirks at him.
“Show off. I already know that you’re an expert with your tongue.” Her toe goes further up his trouser leg. “Very much looking forward to having you show me all your tricks tonight.”
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"I should be saying the same thing. Can't wait to learn how talented your mouth is off the stage." He tilts his head, hunger clear in his eyes. "All my tricks? Does that mean I get you all night?"
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“I’m spending the night there,” she confirms. “You’re welcome to stay.”
Is that what he meant? Midge has the sudden worry that Jaskier won’t want to spend the night there with her. Maybe he’ll leave in the very early hours of the morning. It won’t necessarily upset her if she does, but she misses being able to fall asleep in someone else’s arms.
Midge pushes that thought away. This isn’t a relationship. Neither of them want a relationship.
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"It sounds perfect. Then we can wash up together too - please, tell me it has a big tub."
He's come to appreciate showers in this world, but tubs will always be superior.
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Her heart leaps at the idea of him spending the night with her. At least it means that he doesn’t intend to just sleep with her and be on his way. She likes the cuddling afterwards, something that was interrupted during their first time together.
“They do,” Midge replies. “Big enough for both of us to fit, at least.”
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After paying for everything himself, Jaskier finishes his drink and finally stands up. He hangs his satchel on his side and his lute on his back before passing the flowers to Midge.
"Did you leave anything backstage? Are we walking or taking a cab?"
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“I have to get my coat at the coat check and then we can walk over there. It’s only a few blocks away.”
Midge cradles the flowers as the two of them walk through the club. They’re getting a few looks again. Guess a man with a lute on his back isn’t a sight that is seen every day.
Besides her coat, Midge had also checked a pair of lightweight gloves and a hat that matches her dress. Fully accessorized once again, she takes Jaskier’s arm as they walk out into the cool night.
New York is still busy, even this late at night. Midge leads him around people on the sidewalk towards the Goldbergs’ apartment.
“I know you had a show tonight,” she says, “but do you bring the lute everywhere with you?” The only time she saw him without it was when they were in jail.
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The comment about his lute makes him laugh.
"Most of the time," he responds with a shrug. "I've been trying to change it here, but it's an old habit. Quite hard to drop it. After so many years, not feeling it on my back feels... empty, in a way." Remembering that they'll have the whole night together, he then adds, "But look at it this way: it means I may serenade you later. If it pleases you."
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“Have you ever taught anyone to play?”
Midge asks, leaning in to him as they walk together. Their pace isn’t hurried, despite what they both know awaits them. As eager as Midge might be to have sex with him, she can still enjoy a walk in the fresh air on the arm of a handsome man.
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"I did a bit of that during my winters in Oxenfurt, but I've never done full tutoring. What about your studies? You told me you attended university too. Did you do anything with that?"
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“I majored in Russian Literature,” Midge replies with a sigh. “Honestly, I went to college to find a husband. I found one.” And look where she is now. “It was a totally impractical major, but I was interested in it. I speak a little bit of Russian. That’s probably the most useful thing I got out of it.”
Russian Literature didn’t often come up as a housewife, nor has it come up as a comedian.
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"Impractical is irrelevant - it's what you loved. Have you tried sitting through a subject you hate? It's pure hell. Your mind wouldn't have gotten anything out of it."
So many teens in his lectures definitely didn't want to be there, and those were always his worst students.
"Would you say something to me in the other language?" He repeats the question in Elder.
Why are we awake?
What would she have done with it? Become a bookkeeper? That sounds incredibly boring.
Her eyes widen when he says something in another language. “Oh, what was that?” Midge thinks for a moment about what she wants to say, then goes with: “Когда рак на горе свистнет.”
because we can
Jaskier has no idea what she said, but it makes him smile anyway. He loves language and accents in general, and this world is full of new ones, with all kinds of delightful expressions.
"That was interesting. I don't think I heard that one before. We were given English when we arrived, and I think I heard some of-- Spanish, I believe?"
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“Spanish, yes.” She glances up at him, a smile playing at her lips. “Want to know what I said? ‘When the lobster whistles on the mountain.’”
After giving him a moment to react to that, she explains. “It’s an idiom. It means something unlikely to happen. Kind of like ‘when pigs fly’ in English.” She enjoys that Russian phrase. “And we’re here.”
Midge steers him to a well-to-do looking building on their left. The elevator takes them to the third floor and Midge retrieves a key from her purse to open apartment 308. The space isn’t huge, but it’s cozy and well-appointed. It’s clear from the decor that the owners have some money.
Alone at last, Midge turns to Jaskier and presses her mouth to his in a hungry kiss. Her hands go to his chest as she tastes the fruity alcohol on his lips. She lingers there, sucking gently on his lower lip.
“Mmm… you taste like pineapple.”
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This building is as nice as Midge's, which isn't surprising considering it's someone's second property. Thinking of it as another hotel, Jaskier allows himself to enjoy the sight of fine things decorating the room.
As soon as she turns to him, Jaskier puts his hands on her waist and happily kisses her back, making little noises when she sucks on his lip.
"And soon I'll taste of you. But we aren't hiding from your parents anymore, and we have all night. So we're doing this right."
Still determined to go through the whole seduction process, Jaskier kisses her cheek before moving to the living room. He leaves his lute and satchel on an armchair before taking off his jacket and shoes, delighted to feel the carpet under his feet. He also loosens his tie knot but doesn't take it off quite yet, hoping Midge may want to pull it.
Just as he hoped, there's a radio in the room. He quickly goes through a few stations before finding some soothing music. Grinning in victory, Jaskier then moves the coffee table out of the way. Once Midge has put down her things too, he grabs her hand and brings her to the middle of the room.
It's not just a slow dance, although the usual swaying is still there. Jaskier rubs her back while kissing her thoroughly, making sure to taste every inch of her mouth and suck on her tongue. His hands slowly go down and unlike the club, they don't stop - they fall on Midge's arse and squeeze, pushing her against him until not even a needle can get between them.
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She allows herself to be pulled close, sighing when he kisses her. Her mouth open against his, the kisses grow a little sloppy, lipstick smearing over both of their mouths. There’s a soft moan when he grabs her ass and pulls her flush against him. She can feel his cock against her stomach. Midge’s hands go to his chest, caressing the muscles there through his shirt.
“Have you managed to go all evening without getting hard? Because I’m dripping wet for you.”
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"I was extremely close many a time, and if I had been younger, you would've easily gotten me. Alas, I've had many years to learn to avoid tents on the stage."
What he doesn't say it's that this was a technique he learnt by travelling with Geralt, constantly being exposed to his mighty tits and his third sword. Sharing beds, washing in the river, taking care of wounds... it was painful for his sexual drive.
But the past is in the past, and now he has a wonderful lady to take care of that lust. He buries his face on her neck and starts dropping open-mouthed kisses, being careful not to nip because he remembers the no marks rule. As they continue to sway, Jaskier lifts the dress from behind and lets his fingers tap her panties.
"Fuck," he mumbles against her neck. The erection is quite obviously forming a tent in his pants now. "You weren't kidding. Always so needy and eager for me. Part of me wants to just keep dancing with you, touch you just with my fingertips to see if I could make you come with the sound of my voice."
His finger lightly begins circling the wetness in her panties, just as a little tease. "Earlier, you asked me to corrupt you. Care to remind me of our plans? I seem to have gotten sudden amnesia." His tone is teasing as well, clearly asking her to talk dirty too and ask for what she wants.
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Jaskier talks about her being needy and eager for him. To him, those clearly aren’t bad things. To her, she’s not so sure. Did she give in to him too easily? Will people think she’s a slut when — if they find out about what they’re doing? Midge might need some reassurance from him that being needy and eager for him isn’t a bad thing. She has no desire to ruin the moment though, so she tucks the feelings away for later, hoping that he will assuage her worries when the topic comes up.
There’s a breathless laugh and a little moan as strokes his finger over her wet panties. Her legs part slightly in order to give him better access. “You probably could,” she admits.
Midge kisses him and runs her fingers through his hair. She has a smile on her face when she pulls away. “Well, I think we were just supposed to have a nice night in, complete with handholding and chaste kisses.” She winks at him.
“I’m going to change into something that you will hopefully find incredibly sexy, and then I’m going to get down on my knees and take your cock in my mouth.” Reaching down, she cups him through his pants. “Starting to sound familiar?”
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Before he can reply, Midge is cupping his cock and Jaskier lets out a needy moan as he thrust into her lovely fingers.
"Rings a bell, yes. Mayhaps you should get changing now before an accident happens."
While Midge disappears into the bedroom, Jaskier takes out a few things from his satchel that he puts down on the coffee table: two mini champagne bottles, a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a box of condoms. He's got a jar of vaseline too, but he'll keep that in his bag for now.
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After changing into the lingerie and making sure that it fits right, Midge takes a deep breath and steps back out into the living room.
She poses a little for him, trying to push down any anxiety that she might be feeling. “What do you think?”
She picked this lingerie set because it’s yellow and blue, his favorite colors. It’s feminine, but also sexy. It really doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Her eyes rest on the items sitting on the coffee table and her eyebrows raise. “Someone came prepared.”
omg that's so pretty and perfect (poem by Justin Farley)
Gods, he can't wait to fuck her in it over and over.
Licking his lips, Jaskier rushes to fall on his knees in front of her and rub his nose against the yellow panties.
"Allure me to dive into your deep, refreshing sea," he recites before dropping a kiss on her panties and standing up. "Like a moth mesmerized, hypnotized by a flame." He drops a few kisses on her breasts, letting his tongue quickly tease a nipple through the fabric. "A breathtaking bonfire built upon the balance of romance and sexuality." His arms wrap around her as he catches her mouth in a devouring kiss.
I know right!
Midge caresses his head as he kisses her mons pubis, then wraps her arms around him when he stands up. She returns the kiss to his mouth, speaking again when they break for breath.
“So you like it, right?” she asks somewhat saucily as she starts to pull open the knot to his tie.
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Once his shirt is open, she takes a few moments to run her fingers through the hair on his chest and stomach, tracing the definition of the muscles there. God, she loves it. After another searing kiss to his mouth, Midge gently guides him backwards until he’s sitting on the sofa. She gets down on her knees in front of him, her eyes burning blue with desire.
“I’m not the only needy one, am I Jaskier?” Midge asks as she unbuckles his belt.
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There's no hesitation in the way he opens his legs for her, breath catching when she falls to her knees - what an erotic sight this is. At first, he only shakes his head at her question, biting his lip because her hands and wrists keep brushing his bulge, shamelessly teasing him.
When the belt is finally off, he reaches to cup her face with his hand, his thumb gently stroking her lips.
"Most definitely not. Seeing you like this is maddening itself. I'm rock-hard and aching for your lovely mouth."
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Her fingers tease the bulge through his pants for just a moment before she’s unbuttoning and unzipping them. “Oh, I’ve been told that I’m very good with my mouth,” she says, a playful look in her eye. “You know. Telling jokes.” What else would she be talking about?
With a wink, she urges Jaskier’s hips up so that she can pull down his pants and underwear. His cock springs free, fully erect. Midge’s fingers curl around it, stroking gently for now, feeling him throb in her hand.
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"A very talented mouth indeed," he agrees with a chuckle. "A feisty mouth - one could even call it cocky."
He gets rid of his shirt while she takes care of his pants, raising his hips as soon as she requests it. The air feels a bit chill around his throbbing erection, but that soon stops being a problem when she wraps her fingers around it. Jaskier throws his head back and moans, his body decompressing on the couch as pleasure slowly melts him away.
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“Takes one to know one,” she replies saucily. Jaskier’s confidence borders on cocky, but Midge likes it anyway.
She kisses his tuning fork necklace, the metal warm from being against his skin all night.
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It's one of the many reasons he likes Midge - her independence makes her extremely attractive. Jaskier hums under every kiss, basking in the feeling of her sexy outfit rubbing against his skin. Calloused fingers land on Midge's shoulder, digging in as he indirectly begs for more.
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Her kisses trail downward, over his right hip and down the inside of his thigh. She leans back again, this time bringing his cock close to her mouth.
“Do you wanna see what else my mouth can do?” Sassy. Midge is sure he loves it. She lays a kiss on the head of his penis.
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Before he can reply, she kisses the head of his cock and he can only let out a heartfelt fuck. "Midge, please..." That's it, his begging is the answer.
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She moves slowly, since it’s her first time doing this with him (and it’s been a while overall) and she needs to judge how far into her mouth she can comfortably take him. One of her hands grips his cock at the base while the other one rests on his inner thigh. The bobs of her head are shallow to start, though her lips are tight around him as she pulls his cock out.
After a brief pause, she takes him in again, deeper this time, working up to hopefully being able to take him to the hilt.
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Of course, Jaskier isn't even thinking about that now. His back arches as he throws his head back, moaning out his pleasure. Her mouth is a talented as he expected it to be, and he has to make a great effort not to thrust into it.
"Yes... fuck yes..." he manages to mumble between pants. His hand leaves her shoulder to bury his fingers in her head instead. "You're so good to me, Midge..."
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There’s something powerful and intimate about doing this. He’s at her mercy a little bit, and Midge likes that. She opens her mouth wider, pushing further until she’s able to get all of his cock in. She’s only able to hold it for a moment until she needs to breathe and she pulls him out. His cock is wet with her saliva.
“Do you wanna come in my mouth?”
They might as well establish that now, while her mouth is unoccupied. His hand feels good tangled in her hair. She gently strokes his inner thigh as her tongue moves over the head of his cock and down the underside.
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A very loud fuuuuuck echoes in the room when Midge takes him all in, his hand accidentally pulling her hair a little bit. Jaskier forces his eyes to open and admires the view - and what a view it is! Her mouth is warm, her tongue is talented, and there's lipstick on his skin. Absolutely perfect.
When she pulls him out, he whimpers, the night chill making his sweaty skin shiver. There's a trail of saliva from her mouth to his dick, so he brushes it off with his thumb and licks it.
Her question gets another fuck out of him. "Please? That would be divine."
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“You may,” Midge replies, then goes back to work. The hand around his cock moves down to cup his balls as she sucks at his head, her tongue flicking over it teasingly. Jaskier’s moans and whimpers are beautiful music to her, but she has pity on him and doesn’t tease for long. Soon she’s bobbing her head up and down, taking more and more of him into her hot mouth each time.
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With every minute that passes, his moans get louder and the hand in her hair gets tighter. His hips move too, but thankfully, he's sitting and he doesn't thrust too hard. If he had been standing, he would outright be fucking her mouth. The sounds of her sucking are musically obscene and he wishes to pay attention to them, but his mouth is impossible to stop, constantly repeating yes, please, fuck, more, and of course, Midge.
Jaskier makes sure to enjoy every minute of it, telling his body not to hurry because her mouth is nothing but wondrous. Eventually, he can't take it anymore - his body bends forward and both hands land on the back of Midge's head as a warning. He tries to warn her verbally as well, but he barely manages to mumble something as he comes. His seed fills Midge's mouth as Jaskier groans, wave after wave of ecstasy shaking him to his core. Perfect orgasm.
He collapses back on the couch when he's done, panting while his mind slowly comes back from paradise.
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One of the things Midge likes the most about doing this is that it usually makes a man come incredibly hard. Jaskier is no exception. He’s like putty in her hands (and mouth). She wishes she could watch him, but it’s difficult to do while she’s trying to concentrate on his cock. Midge adjusts when Jaskier bucks his hips so that she doesn’t inadvertently choke.
She doesn’t stop until she feels his cum start to spill into her mouth, and even then she keeps going, working him through the orgasm until he falls back against the couch. Slowly, she slides his cock out of his mouth and lets go of his balls. With one hand to her lips, she puts up the index finger of her other hand. One minute.
Midge hurries to the kitchen and grabs a glass from the cupboard. She fills it with water from the sink and swallows Jaskier’s seed down. She’s learned that it goes down much easier with water.
Returning to the living room with her cup of water in hand, Midge smiles at him.
“Did you like that?”
He looks like she sucked the life out of him.
never apologize for having a life! glad to hear you had fun
It's just a silly detail, though, it doesn't stop him from smiling back at her, feeling pretty damn content at the moment.
"Like? It was absolute heaven. Your mouth is everything you promised, my witty lady." He reaches for her hand and lightly pulls, asking her to sit on his lap while his body recovers. "I didn't thrust too hard, did I?" he asks while nodding at the glass.
<3
“No,” Midge says with a shake of her head. “I was able to adjust. Honestly, I’m not sure if you were even having rational thoughts at that point.”
She takes another sip of water and then offers him the glass. Midge isn’t the type of person who usually feels smug, but she’s feeling pretty damn smug right now.
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"I was definitely not," he replies before accepting the glass and taking a sip too. "You sucked my soul out right through my cock. Are you sure you aren't some kind of succubus killing men to look pretty on stage?"
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Midge kisses his neck, her hand brushing over his chest and playing with the tuning fork on his necklace. Leaning up, she finds his lips with hers and kisses him sweetly.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she murmurs.
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Which he wouldn't be opposed to, but with someone else. And not for reasons related to certain witch.
He's glad to kiss her back, of course, but he's a little disappointed that the water has washed off the taste of his seed. It's such a turn-on to taste yourself on a lover. "And I'm grateful for those wonderful lips of yours. You looked magnificiently lascivious with my cock in your mouth." He kisses her mouth again while his hand rubs her thigh. "Give me a minute and I'll be happy to return the favor."
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“Not sure how Yennefer would feel about that,” Midge says. That was the barrier that Jaskier threw up within 15 seconds of Midge meeting Geralt. Is she a barrier for Jaskier too?
“I’m sure that you and I can come to an arrangement, my sweet bard.” Midge kisses his neck, sucking gently at the skin. “One that is to our mutual pleasure.”
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Thank goodness for those kisses to distract him, because this conversation is going down a dangerous path that he doesn't want to step on in the middle of sex and what is supposed to be a lovely night. Of course, he has nobody to blame but himself - as usual, his mouth opened without him thinking things through. Midge makes it so easy to banter with her, and he loves following every bit of teasing. Her hunting comment had been such a great innuendo, it was so hard not to fall for it. Hard for his stupid dirty brain, anyway.
He hums to show his appreciation for the sucking, throwing his head back a little to give her more skin to play with. (Can she see the very light stretch marks, he wonders.)
"Feasting on you is very pleasurable for me too, trust me. But if you have something else in mind, I'm all ears."
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“Oh, I meant that we could come up with an arrangement in lieu of you hunting me.” She kisses his neck again. “Basically, you’ll have to sacrifice yourself to my whims.”
Pulling back, Midge notices the pale lines on Jaskier’s neck for the first time. She traces a finger over one of them. “Are these scars?”
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Ah, there comes the question. He wondered how long it would take. His breath catches for a second when she traces one of the marks, unsure of what to expect. His hand tightens on her thigh.
"Kind of. They're more like stretch marks, but I'd say the context could make them scars. A djinn put a tumor on my throat. It swelled, to put it lightly, because the actual details are quite gruesome. Yennefer cured me."
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When his hand tightens on her thigh, Midge wonders if she hurt him. Maybe the marks are painful. What he tells her seems horrible and Midge sits up to look at him.
“Oh God!” She strokes his chest soothingly, concern in her eyes. “Did it affect your voice?”
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Her concern is touching, to say the least. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jaskier gets attached to people quickly, so he's glad that they're caring friends in her eyes too and not just fuck buddies.
"I couldn't even speak while it was there. It was terrifying. After Yennefer cured me, it wasn't as bad as I feared - kind of like recovering from a terrible cold."
He's greatly simplifying the story - obviously because this isn't the moment for gory details, but also because that day had been emotionally draining for him. It feels good to be able to talk about it all, though; it used to be much harder, especially when he still hated Yennefer. And Midge isn't asking about the burnt marks on his fingers, which would be the real awkward moment.
Jaskier kisses the corner of Midge's mouth. "Your kisses are a very effective healing balm as well."
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Even though it’s only been a few days, she can feel herself growing fond of him. Sexual intimacy has that tendency, to spark feelings beyond the physical. Midge can feel them budding inside of her and tries to convince herself that it’s just friendly companionship and not something more.
“I’m glad she could help you.” When Jaskier says that her kisses are helpful as well, she resumes laying light pecks over the stretch marks on his neck.
“I’m sure Geralt was thrilled that you couldn’t talk.”
She couldn’t help herself with that comment.
(stolen from The Weekend)
Her comment makes him snort. "Very funny," he replies rather sarcastically. "I shall not take any comments on silence from the woman who gets wet on my voice."
Suddenly, he brings Midge down on the couch, looking down at her with a big grin and a spark of mischief in his blue eyes. His hands are on either side of her shoulders and he makes sure he isn't touching, although obviously their bodies are brushing on various spots.
Jaskier puts his mouth against her ear, and sings. "♫ I can see it in your eyes / because they never tell me lies / I can feel that body shake / And the heat between your legs / You don't have to run, I know what you've been through / Just a simple touch and it could set you free ♫"
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Midge gives a surprised gasp and then grins when he lays her down on the couch. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs happily as he croons so sweetly in her ear.
As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, his voice does turn her on.
“Well,” she replies, “please consider this your personal invitation to touch me however you please.”
Midge spreads her legs as much as the couch will allow, offering him a hint as to where he should start with the touching.
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A few more kisses on her stomach, a lick of her belly-button... and then he's sitting back on his heels. With his best innocent face, he lets a calloused finger touch her panties, lazily going up and down her folds as if testing how wet she is. And gods, she's so wet already.
"Absolutely soaking," he purrs, looking happily pleased. Then he's moving back to lie down on the other end of the couch, his head resting on the cushions against the armrest. "Come," he asks as he taps his chin. "Sit."
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Her eyes stay on his face as he strokes her folds through her panties. Midge gives a shuddering sigh and raises her hips to meet his hand. She’s been soaking wet for a while now and sucking his cock only increased it.
At his request, Midge props herself up on her elbows and gives him a confused look. “Sit… on your face?” she asks.
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His tone isn't judging, just curious. In fact, his smile grows, because he loves 'corrupting' her and teaching her things. He wonders if this also means she's never done mutual-oral, and he saves that idea for later.
"I'd ask you to crawl on top of me, but since it's your first, let's make it easy to avoid accidents, mmh?" A wink. "Get off the couch and walk over here to climb. Put your knees on either side of my head. You can hold on to the back of the couch or the armrest, but I wouldn't mind a hand on my hair."
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Getting up, she follows his instructions, straddling his face on her knees. Admittedly, she’s kind of hesitant to sit down, though her arousal grows by the second as his face gets closer to her cunt.
“Are you sure I won’t hurt you?” she asks, hovering above him.
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Her cunt gets closer and Jaskier licks his lips, already growing crazy over the scent of her arousal. She appears to be unsure, so he puts his arms around her thighs (which he'd been planning to do anyway) and rubs them gently.
"Just make sure not to drop your whole weight on me. Keeps most of it on your knees, and brace yourself on the couch. Feel free to rub yourself on my mouth or even thrust. And if at any moment you're uncomfortable, say the word and we stop."
Determined to make her less nervous, Jaskier makes sure to keep eye contact as he raises his head and licks a streak between her folds, once again being grateful for the lingerie idea.
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Midge settles gently on his face, following his instructions and keeping most of her weight on her knees. She grips the arm rest of the couch as he draws his tongue over the fabric of her panties.
“Please…” she says with a light moan.
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He starts slowly, letting her get used to the position and to handling her weight. His tongue laps at the wet spot on her panties, loving the sensation of the fabric against the skin of his face. With every second that passes, his pace picks up, and soon his licking is replaced by his mouth sucking around her clothed mound.
As her voice starts to crack, Jaskier pauses. "Enjoying yourself so far?" he asks before dropping a kiss on her thigh while a hand reaches in to finally move her panties over.
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“I think you know the answer to that question,” she replies cheekily. When he finally pushes her panties to the side, she feels the cool air of the room hit her slick folds and she sighs needfully.
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His tongue buries between her folds and the lapping resumes, making sure to be extra noisy about it. He genuinely loves her taste, but he also adores the lewd sounds of sex echoing in the room with the radio's soft music. His hands move to grab her buttcheeks, squeezing them and pushing her against his face as an addict desperate for more. Soon the lapping stops at her clit, licking it for a few seconds before he starts to suck hard on it.
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When he switches to concentrate his mouth on her clit, Midge moans openly. She grips the arm rest with one hand, Jaskier’s hair with the other. “Fuck.”
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While his lips keep on sucking on her clit like a feast, one of his hands reach from behind to gently insert a finger into her cunt, thrusting slowly at first. But as her hips continue to move, his hand matches the rhythm. Blue eyes full of desire keep looking at her face to enjoy how beautiful she looks in the throes of passion - but they definitely admire the bouncing of those glorious tits as well.
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“Jaskier…” Midge says his name amidst a series of moans. Her thighs start to tremble from the pleasure and from the effort of holding her weight. She’s been so aroused for so long that the first orgasm will be easy to coax from her body.
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Her trembling thighs speak for themselves, so Jaskier picks up the pace as he adds a second finger, rubbing her walls and looking for that special spot to play with it too. His mouth never leaves her clit, but he does make a humming song asking her to come right there on his face.
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Midge looks down into his electric blue eyes as the orgasm explodes inside of her. Keeping eye contact while orgasming is difficult, but she manages it, her whole body shaking with pleasure until it subsides. She collapses on top of him, then has the wherewithal to push herself up on her knees again so that he doesn’t suffocate.
Sliding back, Midge sits on his abdomen instead and looks down at him with a satisfied grin.
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It isn't so bad when she collapses - Jaskier has been under worse weight in worse circumstances. He won't be able to hold it for long, but she moves before it gets to that point. Noticing how satisfied she looks, Jaskier smugly grins from ear to ear, his mouth, chin, and cheeks glistening with her fluids.
Calloused hands grab hers and gently bring her down for cuddling. "An enjoyable first?"
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Midge takes his hands and allows herself to be brought down on top of him. It’s a good thing that he likes to cuddle, because she does too. This friends-with-benefits thing wouldn’t be as good for her if they didn’t get to have these kind of intimate moments.
She kisses his lips and chin, sucking at the juices on his face. Midge gives a happy sigh. “You’re really fucking good at that.”
Way to make his ego even bigger.
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"Glad to hear my mouth pleases my mistress' whims. Or was it 'goddess'? I lost track." Just a bit teasing about all the silly conversations they've had. He loves all of them and remembers them fondly; banter is so much fun. "By the by, fantastic choice on the lingerie. Felt amazing on my face."
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Midge grins at him. Their banter is one of the best things about their friendship. Jaskier stimulates her both physically and intellectually. She finds herself growing more and more comfortable with him.
“Thanks,” she replies, gently stroking his chest. “Despite the store being a bit tawdry, they make high quality lingerie. I picked this for your favorite colors and for the flowers as well, even if they aren’t buttercups.”
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His hand is lazily drawing random patterns on her back, but it stops to play with the straps of her bra when she describes the colors and the flowers. She's put a lot of thought into it, and Jaskier is genuinely touched by it. It makes him wish he had made more magical flowers for her instead of just two.
"I could tell. You have a lot of attention to detail. Thank you." He kisses the top of her head again. "Maybe we can visit one of those bawdy shops together sometime? It's the one thing I haven't done yet. Then you can be a first of mine, too. We didn't have such a variety of products at home."
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Midge finds that she likes making him happy. It’s clear that he appreciates the time she took to pick the lingerie out. “Sure. There weren’t any shops that sold sexy underthings where you came from?”
Admittedly, Midge isn’t sure how many of them there are outside of New York. That’s one of the great things about the city: you can find almost anything here.
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That's something Jaskier can relate to - he loves making people happy too, loves pampering with their likes. Part of the hedonist life.
"Sexy underthings? Not impossible, but you needed good coin and it was hard to find. Not something for the milkmaid on the farm, you had to go to the cities for it. Lacked variety, too." His complaint about men not wearing colors will never stop. "And while I could get lingerie for me too, I was talking about the toys. I keep hearing stories at Rainbow Road--" Says a lot about the conversations he has. "--and they've made me extremely curious. Vaseline was easily found in the pharmacy, and let me tell you, it's already such a huge improvement over oil."
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So far, things with Jaskier have kept her pretty wet. They haven’t seemed to have a problem with unpleasant friction. Then again, she’s not the only one that he’s sleeping with.
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"Indeed. We don't have to use them if you don't want." He shrugs. "I thought it would be fun to at least look together, discover what it's about. No pressure." He knows he'll buy something for himself for sure, but gonna keep the topic light for now. "Someone at the club can get me an address, so no need to have another awkward conversation with the girls." A wink to show he's just teasing. "Yes, lubrication. I used oil back in my world, and it was incredibly bothersome. Made everything sticky, leaked down my thighs, and stained my underwear."
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Midge wrinkles her nose at his description of the oil. “Do you think you and I need it?” she asks. “You’ve kept me naturally pretty well-lubricated so far.”
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He tilts his head. "Unless you're interested in my behind? I didn't get that impression when I told you about the same spot in men."
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When he talks about men, she understands. Men have to use lubricant to have sex with other men. Midge opens her mouth and pauses while she thinks about how to answer him.
“I would like to be able to give you that kind of pleasure someday, but…” She blushes. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that before.”
That should come as absolutely no surprise to him.
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Oh, she's being adorable again. With a big smile, Jaskier gently takes her chin and raises her face so he can kiss both her cheeks.
"We don't have to do anything you aren't interested in. I was just checking for preferences. Brainstorming can be fun for more things than art." He winks. "And if you are ever curious yet unsure about anything, I can always do it on myself first for you to see. I don't know if you've heard, but I'm quite a showman." And a huge attention whore.
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The idea of watching him pleasure himself pings her arousal. Midge feels it roll over her body like a wave of warm water. “I think I’d enjoy watching you stroke your cock,” she says, her voice low.
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"I meant fingering myself, but I can do that as well." In fact, he wraps his hand around his cock right now, lazily rubbing it as it starts to wake up. "Anything else my mistress wishes to see? Should I stand? Get on my knees? On your lap?"
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Baby steps, Jaskier. Midge looks down between their bodies and holds her breath when she sees him grab his cock. “Maybe we can at least sit up so that I can watch better…”
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All that is true, but also in the particular case of Midge, he likes throwing those ideas aloud to get her ready. So much keeps taking her by surprise, and while she's utterly adorable, he doesn't want to give her a heart attack.
As soon as she finishes her request, Jaskier helps her sit up. Then he sits on his heels next to her, knees digging into the couch as he arches his back and continues to touch himself. "What next, lady goddess?"
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“It’s so tempting to watch you to completion, but I’m also selfish and want you inside of me.” Midge presses a kiss to his temple. “Do you think we might be more comfortable on the bed?”
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"I can bend you over anywhere," he purrs, his hand never leaving his dick. "Choose your fantasy spot."
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“We have more room on the bed,” she says. “I can get on all fours for you.”
To hammer it home, she puts her lips to his ear and whispers to him. “I want you, Jaskier. You know how wet I am for you.”
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"Yes, you are, my dirty little lady," he captures her mouth in a kiss as he puts his arms around her to pick her up. Her legs are guided to his waist so they can wrap around it, and he groans when his hard dick brushes her wet panties. Walking to the bedroom is going to be slow because he doesn't know the apartment well yet and, most importantly, he keeps kissing her on the way.
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She gives a little squeal when Jaskier picks her up, but her legs wrap easily around his waist. He inevitably backs her into the door jamb of the bedroom, but Midge just giggles and keeps kissing him.
“Everything about you makes my cunt wet,” she murmurs to him, capitalizing on being called his dirty little lady. “Your voice, your hands…”
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"My cock?" he asks with a wide grin on his face as he opens the door. "How long will you let it stay inside you, mmh?" He throws Midge on the bed and buries his face in her ear. "I'm going to fuck you until you're full of my--" Suddenly, he freezes. "--fuck. Just a second."
Cursing under his breath, he leaves the room and comes back with a couple of condoms. "Remind me to hide these all over this apartment in the morning, would you?" After throwing them on the nightstand, he climbs on the bed and lifts Midge's leg to start dropping kisses on it. "Now, where were we?"
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“Your cock,” she confirms. “As long as you can keep making me orgasm.” If anyone can make her come twice in one go, it’s probably Jaskier.
His abrupt realization cracks Midge up and she lays back on the bed laughing. It feels good to laugh in the bedroom. That can be just as important to her as the actual sex.
When he returns and starts kissing her leg, Midge reaches down to run her fingers through his hair. “I think you were talking about what you’re going to do to me on this bed.”
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"A vast bed," he notices while moving his kisses to her other leg. This is much better than Midge's single. "Perfect to spread you like a feast."
He moves her panties to the side and licks his lips as his thumb reaches to massage her entrance, barely dipping the tip in. Another fuck escapes him. She's always so wet and ready for him, it's maddening.
"It seems we don't need to get you ready." He pats her thighs. "Very well, my lady - on your knees. Hands on the headboard." While Midge gets into position, Jaskier puts on the condom, fumbling a bit because his eyes keep staring at her arse.
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Midge gets in the position that he requests, looking coyly over her shoulder at him. When she notices that his eyes are on her ass, she wiggles it a little bit.
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Then he positions his body behind hers, bending over too so his nipples and necklace are trapped between them. An arm reaches around her to grab a tit, squeezing it as he rubs his cock against her wet folds.
After a few kisses to her shoulders, he whispers into her ear. "Following my command so easily and eagerly... my dirty lady is playing with fire." He squeezes her tit again while her other hand keeps teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock, not going in yet. "Is that what you want, Miriam? To let me do whatever I want? To let me take you over and over until you beg for release? Tell me."
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It’s the use of her full name that makes her moan out loud for him. She’s never heard it said like that before and she feels flush, needy.
“Yes…” she breathes. “Please take me like this.” Midge tries in vain to push more of his cock into her. “My sweet bard’s cock feels so perfect inside me.”
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His now free arm goes around her waist to hold her against him so he can start thrusting - once again, no warning, no word, no waiting. Taking somebody from behind doesn't always equate hard sex, it can just be a preference for position - but it seems she likes the angle Jaskier is going for. It fits the theme of their teasing: the repressed housewife, tired of the routine missionary, is finally letting go and presenting her cunt for a better man to show it the pleasure it deserves.
Jaskier starts thrusting fast and hard, panting in rhythm to the beautifully obscene sound of his balls hitting her rear every time. His other hand never leaves her chest, squeezing her tits and clumsily playing with her nipples. He can feel the fabric of the lingerie caught between them, adding delicious friction under their sweat.
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“Oh God, yes…” Midge tries to tighten her walls around his cock with each thrust out, though he’s moving quickly, making it harder to keep up with him. She’s happy to play the repressed housewife to his dashing rake, especially if it means she gets fucked like this. Honestly, the role play isn’t very far from reality.
“So big… you feel so big…” Her tits shake with each of his thrusts, even as he grips one and rolls the nipple between his fingers. One of her hands leaves the headboard so that she can reach down between her legs and play with her clit.
if he ever crosses a line please let me know, he just likes playing with her expectacions so much
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grumbles into her ear, suddenly stopping his movements after one more thrust. "Naughty little lady, I meant what I said before. I'm going to fuck you until you're begging. I'm going to make this one last. I'm going to give you the mindblowing orgasm that such a stunning, witty, caring woman deserves." Since he's captured her hand, he uses the chance to guide it to her cunt so she can touch her own folds surrounding his throbbing erection. "Feel that? Open wide for me, taking me so perfectly. You're a marvel, Miriam."
no this is perfect
She arches her back, leaning her head on his shoulder so that she can look up at him with big blue eyes. “Please, Jaskier,” she begs. “Please fuck me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good orgasm. I need it. I’ll be good and do whatever you ask…”
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"Wasn't the orgasm from a few moments ago good?" He thrusts once, keeping her hand there so she can feel it. "Weren't those four orgasms the other day good?" Another thrust, this one a little harder. "And here I thought you liked my cock." Three thrusts in succession before taking her hand to his mouth to suck her fingers, thoroughly cleaning all her juices with his tongue. He then kisses her cheek. "You're always so good for me, Miriam. Always so wet and ready to play. Be a good girl a little longer--" He finally lets go of her hand. "--and touch me, or grab the headboard. But not touching yourself. That's my job."
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“You… give me such… good orgasms,” she pants in between his thrusts. “I’ll let you make me come… I’ll be a good girl.” Midge reaches back with the hand that he cleaned off and tangles her fingers tightly in his hair.
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"Yes, good girl. Wonderful girl."
Jaskier's arm goes back to wrapping around her waist so he can start thrusting hard and fast again. His own moaning and panting make it hard to talk, but this is Jaskier, and he never stops trying to talk. Shutting him up is impossible. He can feel his own body on fire as he tells her how good, how tight, how wonderful, how precious, how sexy and dirty she is...
The obscene sound of his balls hitting her rear continues to act as an instrument for their groans, and he often looks down to admire the way her tits bounce. The only bad thing about this position is not being able to bury his face in them.
When he feels her walls tightening around him and her voice breaking, indicating she's close, he simply stops again. Her clit hasn't been touched yet. His cock stays buried inside her while he drops light kisses on her shoulder and neck.
"Condoms are such a wondrous invention," he says between pants and kisses. "Enable me to come inside, who would've thought? Do you know what that means, Miriam?" His mouth moves to her ear again. "I could pull out but leave the condom in, and watch my seed drip out of your lovely cunt. Would you like that?"
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His idea is so dirty and so wonderful that she moans in spite of herself. “Yes,” she gasps. “Please, yes, but… may I come first?” Midge tries to sound sweet, irresistible, as she bats her eyelashes. “All for you, my handsome bard. I’ll come so hard for you. Only you can give me such perfect orgasms.”
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"It's hard to say no to those pretty eyes and smart praise," he responds before kissing her, making sure to suck on her tongue before pulling away. "And yet... you said you'd do anything I want, did you not?"
He doesn't actually answer her question. Once again, with no warning, he starts pounding hard and fast. This time, however, his words fumble more because he's starting to lose it, too. Midge reaches her edge faster, and he knows he doesn't have much left.
But when her walls tighten, guess what? He stops. Again.
"You're right," he purrs in her ear. "You've been such a wonderful, dirty girl for me. You deserve to come."
As soon as the hard thrusts restart, his hand reaches her clit, rubbing it to match the rhythm of his hips. His moans are full of her name and his blood boils hotter with every pull of his hair.
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Jaskier edges her perfectly, making her feel practically feral to come. She moves against him when he stops, fucking herself on his cock and tossing her hair back over his shoulder with a growl.
When he finally strokes her clit, Midge can’t even get any words out. She explodes nearly on contact, her wild cries ringing off of the walls. Her body jerks against his, riding out the wave of that perfect release. Her orgasm is long and intense. Somehow, Jaskier keeps giving her better and better orgasms.
Her knees sag when she finishes and she’s glad for his arm around her waist holding her up. Midge feels dazed, almost numb from pleasure.
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Her cries are the rawest, most beautiful music. Jaskier's arms tighten around her, basking in every jerk of her wonderful body, his finger rubbing her clit through every second of her climax, his hips doing shorter but still hard thrusts.
He's happy to hold her when she sags... yet he doesn't stop. Ah, irony. It's not just the thrusting, since obviously he hasn't come - his hand doesn't leave her clit either. It's hard to breathe, but he still forces his body to take a few deep breaths, silently begging his cock to wait just a little longer.
"Do you-- ah, fuck. Do you know what I envy the most about women, Miriam? They can have multiple orgasms."
His speed picks up. There's only so much self-control he can achieve. It's not something he could've done when he was an 18-year-old desperate to get his rocks off. Years of experience and the earlier orgasm today have helped him reach this point. Hopefully, he doesn't fuck up now.
"Have you ever tried?"
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No, she’s never done this before, but she doesn’t want to verbalize that, in case he misinterprets it and stops. Midge shakes her head.
“Oh my God…”
Midge rises back up on her knees, her head back on Jaskier’s shoulder as she wills her body to feel that ecstasy again.
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His whole body is starting to shake now, his mind going numb with the delicious mix of exasperating waiting and endless pleasure.
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Midge’s body stiffens again and she calls out his name. It’s not as intense as the first orgasm, but it’s still wonderful. She shakes with pleasure, the walls of her cunt squeezing his cock again.
When the waves subside, Midge falls forward this time, resting her head against the headboard.
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Absolute ecstasy spreads through Jaskier's body, from every strand of his hair to every tip of his toes. For a few seconds, his mind is nothing but fireworks and the music of Midge's voice. Heavenly. Sublime. Perfect.
When he returns to reality, he notices he's putting his weight on Midge, who is barely holding on to the headboard. Jaskier kisses her shoulder and whispers a sorry before falling on the bed, bringing her down with him. This time, he isn't as gentle as usual, but he's truly exhausted and his body is currently made of jelly. They land on their sides, and Jaskier spoons her while burying his face in her neck, absorbing the scent of their shared pleasure. He'll pull out in a moment or two when they're both feeling less sensitive.
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They fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, his cock still snug inside of her. Midge lays back against his warm chest as she catches her breath. Then, she moves her shoulders and head enough that she can look into Jaskier’s eyes. Her own are burning bright blue.
“Call me Miriam again,” she murmurs.
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"Miriam," he murmurs back with a little smile. "Enjoyed yourself?"
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Her birth name is something intimate, something only the people closest to her call her. Yes, she didn’t like it when she was younger, and she still prefers Midge, but hearing Jaskier say it unlocks a desire for intimacy with him that she didn’t know she had.
She only pulls back when she needs to breathe, and she doesn’t go far, rubbing her nose against his.
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"I'll take that as a yes," he replies with giddy laughter while she rubs their noses together. So cute. "May I?"
He reaches down to finally pull out, but just as he promised, his fingers hold the condom to keep it in. This is something that has been in his mind since he learned about condoms and didn't get to try before, so he hopes it goes well. And it does! His dick comes out alone and his seed drips out of her cunt - it's obscene and incredibly erotic. Jaskier loves it.
"I hope it feels as good as it looks." He kisses her shoulder while pulling out the condom as well.
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“You made a mess of me,” she says. She’s not only talking about the cum on her leg. Midge is covered in sweat, her makeup is smeared and her hair is in disarray. In other words, she’s been thoroughly fucked, and she could not be more pleased with that.
Midge scoops up a little bit of the cum on her thigh and rubs it on her lips. She licks a little bit of it off, but knows that Jaskier wants what she had washed down earlier.
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"Oh, you dirty little thing," he says between chuckles as he sees her 'paint' her lips with his cum. If he hadn't just come, this would be driving him crazy. Jaskier grabs the back of her neck and brings her head closer to lick her lips before capturing them in a short but deep kiss.
When he pulls back, he keeps looking into her eyes while rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "Tell me, my proper lady - how does messy feel now? Because messy was good during your first stage experience, was it not?"
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She grins at Jaskier when he leans in to lick the cum off of her lips. As for the rest of it, it can stay right where it is.
“Messy was… messy during my first performance, if you could call it that.” she says. “It was basically ‘drunk woman in nightgown rants about husband’.”
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That was one hard fuck, after all, they need to recharge. Jaskier's legs still feel wobbly, and he walks slowly, but he loves it - it's a reminder of what they just did. He feels light and floaty, simply content.
Of course, the word refreshment was used very loosely here, because he comes back with the two mini champagne bottles (now open) and the box of chocolate-covered strawberries. All piled up on some cushions that he's stolen from the couch.
"Sooo~?" he asks after handing her one of the bottles. The box is dropped on the mattress and the cushions piled against the headboard so they can sit back and relax.
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After helping herself to one of the chocolate-covered strawberries, she speaks again. “You want to know how it feels to be messy like this?” Midge takes a deep breath. “Indulgent. Freeing. Satisfying.”
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'Some' meaning 'he'. He says it.
After clinking their bottles, Jaskier takes a sip and has a strawberry too. The satisfied noises he makes are almost naughty. "I take it back, condoms aren't the best invention this world has. Chocolate is."
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Sex with Jaskier is exactly like that, which is probably why Midge is having such a good time. She cuddles up next to him, her head on his chest.
“I loved that,” she tells him. “The way you spoke to me… pretending you were corrupting me… praising me… using my full name. And then you fucked me so well. And made me come twice. It was incredible.”
Jaskier could probably tell that she enjoyed herself, but Midge wants him to know what particularly she liked about it. It can help to inform their sex going further.
“Did you like it too?”
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"Pretending to corrupt you? Is that our cover story?" he teases before taking another bite from a strawberry. He only eats half and feeds the other half to Midge. "I'm truly glad you liked it. I want you to experience everything you've been missing. I want to feed the artist in you and watch her grow."
He chuckles at her question. "There's something you have to understand about me: I won't sit through something I don't like, unless it has to do with survival." There's another exception: enduring something to get what he wants. But he won't say it aloud, he doesn't want her to think he's using her - because he isn't. "Of course I liked it, it was wonderful. You're always so eager and enthusiastic - and you tell me what you want. On a beauty like you? That's a killing combination."
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“It was, in our role play that was not at all similar to real life.” She slowly eats the strawberry out of his fingers, licking her lips and his fingers in order to lap up the juice. “Is it okay? That I’m… eager?”
Even though she’s feeling better about how much she wants him, hearing validation from him that she’s not some kind of deviant would make her happy.
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"Oh, darling." He kisses the top of her head, internally cursing society norms for putting stupid ideas in her mind. "Never be ashamed of wanting to enjoy yourself - no matter if it's alcohol, sweets, or sex. You aren't hurting anybody. Your kids are taken care of. You earned your coin. You're allowed to do anything you want now. I like you eager."
Remembering how she giggled earlier, he starts dropping light kisses all over her face, hoping to bring her smile back.
"There's only one slut in this room, and that's me." He winks. Is he serious or joking? Yes. "So unless you're going to start judging me, too, then you can't judge yourself."
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Midge squinches her eyes closed when he starts to kiss all over her face, then indeed starts to giggle. She’s so fond of him that he’s able to make her laugh easily.
“You’re right. You are a slut,” Midge says, giving him a playful kiss. “But you’re so… confident. You don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”
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He laughs at her comments and looks at her for a second, considering something.
"I'm going to tell you something," he says after a pause. "And if this doesn't show how much I like you, I don't know what will. But you must promise you won't tell my family that I admitted this, otherwise I'll have to send you a curse." He takes another sip of champagne to gather courage. "I'm actually very easy to rile up. Remember how we met?"
Told a guy off for his opinion on his music. Yeah, not the best with criticism.
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“Someone didn’t like your music.”
Midge can see him as being easily riled. He’s certainly very easy to rile in the bedroom.
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“What about constructive criticism?” she asks.
She exhales, thinking about his question. “Comedians have to learn how to deal with hecklers, especially female comedians. A lot of men probably think I just need to go back to the kitchen, but most of them aren’t rude enough or drunk enough to say it.” She sighs. “Actually, the biggest thing that I run into is not being taken seriously. I get a lot of people thinking, here’s a pretty young woman come to tell us some jokes, isn’t she adorable? They think this is a lark for me.”
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Her story gets all his attention and Jaskier rubs her back to comfort her, mumbling hypocrite cowards under his breath. He shakes his head. "And even if it was a lark, why would that mean you don't deserve respect? Fuckers just want free entertainment without having to acknowledge anyone that will put their world views in danger."
Jaskier pauses, covering it with another strawberry. He doesn't want to make this a sadness competition - it isn't, and it never will. But at the same time, he wants to give her hope.
"Very early on, I believed they only hated my songs because they were about Geralt. The witcher's whore, they called me." The growl in his voice shows how much he hated that. Being called slutty is one thing; insulting a relationship is another. "But even when I sang about drinking or romance, the judgment never stopped. I was too colorful for taverns." 'Colorful' meaning 'queer'. "Of course, I ended up singing in royal courts and they never left their shitholes. But it took years, and I had a bodyguard. I won't tell you it gets easier, because it won't, not until you make it, at least. And I know you will make it. So don't let them put you down. You have a manager and a supportive family that will be there for you. They only have their own bitterness."
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This must be the uglier side of Jaskier’s ego. Midge supposes that one day, she and Jaskier will clash over it. Fortunately, today is not that day.
“Thank you.” Midge kisses his cheek. “I don’t expect this to be an easy ride, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating to be underrated and overlooked. I can count on one hand the amount of people who really think I can make it in this business.”
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He wraps his arms around her and pulls to make her lie fully on top of him. The few remaining strawberries roll on the mattress, but he doesn't care. A kiss for her nose. "We'll have to make that number grow. You're coming to Rainbow Road tomorrow, right? I can introduce you to the owner."
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She moves on top of him when he pulls her that way, happy to have skin to skin contact with him again.
“Yes, I’m coming,” Midge tells him. She’s interested to see him perform. “Have I sated your unbridled lust tonight, my sweet bard?”
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He kisses her when she says she'll come to see him perform, and hopes everything goes well. She's been extremely open-minded so far, but actually being there with his people will be the real test, so to speak. Unlike Brandon, she won't be paid to deal with it.
The question takes him by surprise, but he grins. It's not every day that he meets someone who can match him in levels of lust.
"Rumors say I can never be sated." He winks as he turns to drop her on the mattress with him on top. "Are you asking for me or for yours--"
The sound of something getting squished interrupts him. It seems he's dropped Midge on top of the strawberries. Jaskier's forehead falls on her shoulder as he starts laughing.
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“Shit.” Midge is laughing too though and she threads her fingers through his hair. “I think I’m ready to take a bath.”
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He gently turns Midge around and finds the offending fruits. Without hesitation, he proceeds to lick all of them off her skin, taking his sweet time with each of them. Now they taste like Midge, which makes them sweeter, he thinks.
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“Your tongue?” She asks. “Is that what I should be considering?”
Jaskier is perfect with his tongue. Even though he’s already given her three wonderful orgasms, Midge knows that if his head or his hand or his cock were to find its way between her legs again, she would allow him to do as he pleases.
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The last strawberry is on her butt, so he uses the chance to suck on her cheek and leave a mark there too. This accident has become a wonderful little game, and he's starting to consider ideas for that syrup thing he saw on ice cream.
"I was thinking..." Always dangerous. He gets on top of Midge just to tease, making sure to put his weight on his knees not to crush her. His mouth goes to her ear as usual. "How about we leave the bath for tomorrow morning, before we leave? A nice massage to start the day as good as new. And now we may go for something more relaxed, to contrast against the intensity I just put you through." He kisses her cheek and her shoulder. "Lights out, radio off, just you and I caressing each other under the covers. Slow and sensual."
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Midge turns her head so that she can see him after he makes his suggestion. That sounds wonderfully intimate and even as there’s a small pang of worry in her heart, Midge still can’t resist. “Alright.” She’s sure it will turn sexual but doesn’t have much of a problem with that. “Let me get cleaned up a bit and then I’ll join you in bed.”
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As promised, he turns the lights off around the apartment and closes the curtains. He also turns off the radio. He only leaves the night light in the bedroom on so Midge can make her way back. The used condom, the, box and the bottles are thrown in the trash and a brand new condom is left on the night table. Fortunately the bed has multiple blankets, so he removes the top one with the strawberry stains and loosens up the other ones. The couch cushions are thrown to the corner of the room for now, they can tidy up that later.
Jaskier gets under the covers and lies down with his arms under his head, waiting for Midge while singing.
"♫ My baby whispers in my ear / Mm, Mm, sweet nothings / He knows the things I like to hear / Mm, Mm, sweet nothings ♫"
Look at him, knowing songs from this world.
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A smile crosses her lips when she hears Jaskier singing. She comes out of the bathroom and slips into bed with him.
“Uh huh, honey.” She grins. “You know that girl is like, 14 years old?”
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"...what." He drags his hands down his face. "I only heard the song, I didn't see her! What the fuck? That could've been Ciri!"
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Her eyes adjust to the cool darkness of the room as she slides close to him. Jaskier’s blue eyes stand out, as well as the glint off of his necklace.
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Jaskier lies on his side and puts an arm around her to pull her close, returning the kiss. It's a slow one, taking his sweet time to kiss her thoroughly, nipping on her lower lip and teasing her tongue with his.
His voice is kept in a sensual purr when he reaches her ear. "Close your eyes and touch my skin. Can you find my scars in the darkness?" His own hands slowly explore her body, too, going up her thighs and her back one inch at a time. "Can you hear our heartbeats echoing in the night?"
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Following his request, Midge closes her eyes and lets her fingers explore his skin. There are a few patches on his side that feel different. “Here?” she asks. Midge shivers when she feels his hands on her thighs and back.
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"Yes. Nails of a vampiress. Yours feel much nicer. I love the way they scrape my skin, making it tingle. Especially on my head." He kisses her neck while taking a moment to gather some courage. There's something he's been dealing with and he knows he must push himself through it to work it out. His left hand traces her spine, then the two scarred fingers from his right hand repeat the process. "Feel the difference?"
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At his request, Midge moves her hand up to his head, massaging his scalp gently with her nails.
Her brow furrows as she concentrates on the touch of his fingers. The difference is subtle, but it’s there.
“Yes. Are your fingers scarred?”
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And to show his appreciation for that mouth, he captures it in another kiss as he hums in delight at the nails on his head. His whole body shivers and tingles, and his blood is slowly starting to travel south.
"Yeah. This one is-- a sadder story, for another day. Unlike my other scars, they do bother me a little bit. So I've been trying positive reinforcement. I like playing with sensations."
His hands fall on her thighs and caress them as they go up to cup her arse. The more they massage, the more the tips of his fingers slip in, teasing her inner thighs and her lips.
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“You don’t want to tell me now?”
Then Jaskier’s hands travel into more intimate territory on her body and she inhales deeply, exhaling a light moan. Her legs part for his wandering fingers, eager for his touch as always.
“Do you like what you feel?”
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Her legs immediately part and it's Jaskier's turn to inhale - she's always so ready for him, it drives him crazy. Being this needed and wanted is intoxicating. He still keeps his touch light, though, wanting to play with the whole slow and sensual idea. His fingertips brush her outer labia, not going far yet.
"I do. You're a piece of art." His hips move forward, his slowly awakening cock pushing against her thigh. "Do you like what you feel?"
Guess who has (shitty) internet on the flight eyyy
His fingers, as always, are teasingly perfect. Midge shivers, but as much as she wants more, she can appreciate this slow seduction.
“Jaskier…” she whispers. Nobody has ever referred to her as art before. She can feel him stirring against her thigh and reaches down to trace her fingers over his erection. “Of course I do.”
niiiiice
A happy little sigh escapes his lips when she touches his cock, and he's delighted to notice she's playing along with the small touches. It makes for a wonderful build-up, in his opinion.
"Miriam," he calls back, remembering how much she liked it. "Please don't stop."
As his cock hardens in her hand, Jaskier buries his face in her breasts, dropping light open-mouthed kisses on both of them. His hands never stop teasing, finally letting a finger slip between her folds to rub lazily.
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With a soft moan, Midge tilts her head back so that Jaskier can have full access to her neck and chest. Her hips move forward when she feels his fingers move between her folds. Midge strokes her fingers down his shaft, then moves them underneath his cock, still keeping her touch teasing with her fingertips.
“I love when you say my name like that,” she breathes. “You make me so happy.”
oh no :( sorry to hear that, hope it gets solved soon!
"Miriam," he repeats as more fingers join the first, teasing her clit too now. "Miriam," he says again when his hips thrust into her hand. "Miriam," he whispers one last time before he starts sucking on her nipple.
Here now, just generally busy and tired!
“Jaskier…” Midge rocks her body gently against him. Even though they’re teasing each other and riling each other up, she wants more. She wraps her fingers around his cock more firmly, stroking him up and down. As always, he’s playing her like a fine-tuned instrument with his fingers and his mouth.
then i got busy too lol please rest!!!
As their moans echo in the room, creating wonderful music in the darkness, Jaskier gets three fingers inside her and begins thrusting at a fair rhythm - not too hard or fast, but definitely not slow either. His mouth never leaves his breasts while he tries his best for both his sucking and his fingering to match her strokes, hoping for perfect harmony.
doing better tonight, thank you!
Three fingers inside her feels like an indulgence. He did that to her before and she absolutely loved it, though it’s clear she’s not used to it yet.
“I feel so full,” Midge gasps, her hand stilling on his cock for a moment as she gets used to his thrusts. Jaskier should have realized that they wouldn’t be able to keep it slow and sensual for long.
With her free hand, she digs her fingers into his hair as he sucks at her hardened nipples. He’s building her up slowly, and she’s fine with letting him do so. It will hopefully lead to another incredible orgasm.
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His mouth goes to her ear and nibbles on it before speaking. "Have you ever gone to sleep with a cock still deep in you? Imagine waking up still feeling full." His tone says he's done it - both as a receiver and the giver. "Now that we have this place, it may be an idea for another night."
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The little thrust wakes her up and she wraps her fingers more tightly around his cock before continuing to stroke him. Midge concentrates on stimulating his whole length, from tip to base, squeezing gently.
She moans approvingly at his suggestion. “Or I could wake up and roll on top of you, start to ride you in the middle of the night.”
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"Fuck," he curses when he hears her suggestion, the mental image making his cock throb. "That would be the most amazing morning call... start the day with an orgasm and a beautiful woman aching for me."
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Meanwhile, her strokes to his cock get faster, tugging at him in desperation. After her orgasm, she’ll be able to concentrate better on him.
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His fingers speed up as well, still determined to match her rhythm and create music out of it. They stay inside a little longer, though, to rub that wonderful spot inside her.
"How am I supposed to leave the bed when you're always so wet and ready for me? It's intoxicating. It makes me want to take a potion that keeps my cock hard and throbbing for hours so I can fuck you over and over again."
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God, he always seems to know exactly what to say and do in order to get her off. She was going to say more, but now she’s too distracted by her impending orgasm. The idea of him fucking her until she’s completely exhausted makes her leg start to tremble. She heaves a deep breath as she stands on the precipice and then dives over.
Her moan is long and loud as he makes her come again. Is it her fourth? She’s lost count. All she knows is that he has the ability to make her feel complete and utter bliss.
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"Miriam..." he whispers as he also searches for bliss.
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“Feel that? How wet you make me? Your witty lady is always so eager and ready for you, Jaskier.” She bushes his hair off of his face so that she can watch his expression as he chases his orgasm. “I want you to come all over my thighs again. Three times in one night is impressive, my sweet bard. Surely I’ll completely drain your balls this time.”
Taking the hand that was inside of her, Midge sucks her juices off of one of his fingers.
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Jaskier moans loudly as he comes all over the mattress and her thighs, pure euphoria smashing every nerve in his body. This is what they mean when they see seeing sounds, because Midge's voice becomes explosive colors that blow up his mind. Even his vast vocabulary feels small to describe it.
As he slowly comes down from this amazing high, he collapses on top of Midge and nuzzles the nearest patch of skin he can find.
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As he pants against her skin, Midge gently strokes his hair and places a soft kiss on the top of his head. As affectionate as she feels towards him, Midge knows that it can’t turn into romantic feelings. Jaskier’s made it clear that he’s not interested in monogamy. Still, she can’t help but cherish the time she has with him.
Midge tilts his chin up and places her lips on his. “Satisfied, my darling?”
(poem by Angel M)
"Plenty," he replies with a nod and a big smile. "I long to have you lead me to that place. That ends with you lying on top of me. Satisfied. Happy. And replete." He then kisses her back, lazily and content.
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“Three orgasms from you in one night,” she says, her voice full of amusement. “That’s quite a performance. And four for me.” Midge kisses him more deeply this time. “Why wouldn’t I be wet and eager for you when you provide such services?”
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"You should've met me when I was younger; the numbers would be higher." But it wouldn't have been as good - he wasn't as experienced. Shouldn't it be quality over quantity, Jaskier? Ah, the ego to show off will always be stronger. "I'm guessing four is your new record? Maybe we can think of something for another weekend and see if we can break it."
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“I’m sure you’re more experienced now,” Midge says. “Men have to learn how to please women and I’d say you’ve got it pretty down pat. This repressed housewife hasn’t come like this in a long time.”
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"I've never left a bed partner unsatisfied," he replies while pouting a little. He likes to think so anyway. There may've been a woman or two who faked it, but that was very early on. When you're a teen, it's harder to tell. Jaskier tilts his head. "I understand your situation, and I'm happy to be many of your firsts... but from what I've learned about you so far, I refuse to believe you weren't adventurous with your husband at least once. What was the craziest sexual thing you did before me?"
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Midge strokes her fingers through the hair on Jaskier’s chest. “You make me want to be adventurous.”
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His face softens when he hears the rest, and he really feels for her. He kisses her forehead. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that. I want you to be adventurous. I want everyone to be adventurous, because the concept of 'routine' was invented by the devil himself. But especially you. Because I can see so much in you dying to come out."
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“What do you think is dying to come out in me?” she asks curiously.
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"Adventure. Creativity. Inquiry. Defiance. Passion. Desire." He kisses a different spot on her face and shoulders to punctuate each word. "Freedom."
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Midge knows he means more than that, but she can’t help herself. Plus, being tangled naked with him with his cum drying on her thighs puts her in a saucy mood.
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"And here I was, being all deep and philosophical. Next time someone accuses me of having the dirtiest mind in the room, I'll send them to you." He kisses her ear before speaking again. "But I do like having the freedom to fuck you to the Moon and back."
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“I think you think I’m a lot more dynamic than I am,” Midge tells him with a smile. “I just say what other people are thinking.” Nothing really that special.
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He squints at her, not believing what he's hearing. Calloused fingers raise her chin so blue can meet blue. It's dark, but he can still see her lovely smile. "Look me in the eye and swear you don't want more in life."
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“I do,” she tells him. “I want to be more than just a housewife, and I love performing.”
Most people don’t think she can or should be more.
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"Good. Great ambition is the passion of a great character." He gently caresses her cheek and kisses her forehead. "Don't let anyone force you into hiding behind the housewife. And don't ever feel like you must keep things under wraps around me of all people. Love yourself, darling. Be yourself."
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It’s going to take work and she’s going to need help. Fortunately, Joel and her parents will at least watch the kids while she’s working.
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So many toys. This world market for pets is wild.
"You CAN have both! You MUST! Miriam! Promise you won't let your family stop you from getting what you want."
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“Jaskier, I don’t think anyone is as passionate about my career as you are.” It’s very sweet, considering that he hasn’t known her very long. Perhaps he forms attachments quickly. Midge strokes his cheek and then kisses him. “I want both and plan to work at having both. It just won’t be easy. I know that.”
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Jaskier appreciates the kiss and nuzzles her hand. He's always felt strongly about this subject, but he's realizing now that the uncertain future of his career has put him a little more on edge.
"Just so you know, I do care about your career. But what truly pisses me off is the idea of someone leaving dreams behind because society is pushing them in the opposite direction." A sigh. "I've seen it happen so many times. I don't want you to be another victim."
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“Did someone want you to give up your dreams?”
It’s a bold question. Jaskier has seemed kind of reluctant to talk about his past. He hasn’t even told her his real name. His passion for her to not give up on her career might be due to someone trying to make him give up his.
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"...men are 'supposed'-" Pretty heavy on the sarcasm there. "--to grow balls and provide for a family. Not be 'sissy' and 'vexatious' in public."
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The way he talks about his family makes it clear to Midge that his family supported him even less than hers supports her. At least she knows that her parents love her.
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"That's because you have excellent taste." He kisses her chest, right above her heart. "But thank you. It means a lot." A pause before talking again. "I said earlier I didn't want to ruin the mood, so... oops?"
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Jaskier might be able to tell that Midge likes him. It’s a little bit more than just friends with benefits, if she really thinks about it. She doesn’t like thinking about it though, as it makes her a bit sad, knowing that he’s not interested in monogamy.
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There's a long pause while Jaskier draws random shapes with his fingertips on her stomach, humming to the rhythm of her heartbeat again. If he's already killed the mood and she doesn't mind it, then...
"A sorcerer burnt my fingers," he explains in a whisper, almost as if his voice was far away in another land. "He wanted to know where Geralt and Ciri were. I didn't tell him."
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“You’re a loyal friend,” Midge tells him, gently stroking his hair. She takes his hand and lays kisses on his scarred fingertips. “Maybe not so much of an egotist.” She’s teasing.
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"My ego takes offense to that," he jokes back. He's glad to do so, to let her keep the mood light. "How much do I have to pay you to say that to my couple of arses at home?"
I love that icon
“They don’t appreciate your sacrifice?” Midge asks. “I’ll be happy to tell them that you aren’t selfish. You’ll have to pay me in orgasms.”
That seems suitably unselfish.
haha it's the cat isn't it
i feel like he and the cat are making the same face
“Is it too forward to ask you to play something for me?” Midge realizes that she’s never heard him play his lute before, despite the fact that he carries it everywhere.
sharing the one braincell
"Forward? My sweet lady, I'll never say no to performing. And I did say I would serenade you, didn't I?"
After pecking her lips, he leaves the room to get his lute and a towel. He comes back to sit on the edge of the bed and covers his naked groin with the towel before resting the lute - his precious instrument mustn't be stained by sweat or cum.
He plays a few random chords while thinking where to begin, and decides to go for A Little Sacrifice. His eyes close as he remembers the day it happened, his voice full of emotion softly echoing in the darkness of the room.
mmhmm
While she’s excited to see Jaskier on the stage, nothing can compare to the intimacy of this performance. She can hear every word that he sings. It’s interesting that he’s chosen to sing a love song, though she supposes that most songs are about love anyway.
Midge gives him a little round of applause when he finishes. “Do you believe in the sort of true love that song talks about?”
Back to the heavy questions, it seems. It’s easier to do in the darkness.
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Jaskier's expression turns more serious, but there's no hesitation in his answer. "Yes." There are thousands of things running through his mind, including decades of pinning, so he tries to ignore them by adding- "The song is a true story. Geralt and I helped the prince and the siren find happiness."
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Midge sits up so that she can sit next to him and cuddle close. She likes touching him and she places her chin on his shoulder.
“What about you?” she asks quietly. “Have you found that sort of happiness?”
Asking for a friend who definitely isn’t her.
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When she appears on his shoulder, he tilts his head to rest it against her - he likes the touching and cuddling too. His hands go back to picking strings, trying to find the right answer for that question. It seems she's determined to destroy him tonight in more ways than sex.
"I'm single," he replies as he chooses his words carefully. "And I've only had one failed relationship many a year ago." A pause. His eyes glance at his burnt fingers. "But I like to think I've loved that strongly."
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She’s asking hard questions and he’s indulging her, so for that, she’s grateful. A gentle kiss to his cheek as she debates how far to push, and ultimately decides to stop. He’s already told her that he doesn’t do relationships. Midge suspects that failed relationship in his past is affecting his current decision. She can understand what it’s like to have a relationship go horribly wrong and to maybe think love is no longer worth it.
When she notices him glance at his fingers, she knows he’s talking about love for his family, not romantic love.
“You have good things to offer a partner,” she says, before choosing to lighten the mood again. “The orgasms alone are worth it.”
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He's talking about romantic love - but it's probably for the best that she can't tell. Jaskier is choosing his words carefully on purpose, after all. When she mentions a partner, he thinks this conversation is about to sink really deeply into dangerous waters, but she finishes talking and thank the gods she's just joking.
Jaskier chuckles. "If only sex was all it took, mmh?" But to bring the mood back, he plays Fishmonger's Daughter with a big grin on his face. Humorous ditties are as important as love songs.
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Midge grins when he starts to sing again, this song funnier and more lighthearted than the last one. She runs one of her hands through the hair on his chest and toys with his tuning fork necklace. Jaskier manages to complete the song without being totally distracted by her.
“I like when you sing to me,” she murmurs in his ear.
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"Do you?" His tone is teasing. "Because it seems to me that you're trying to distract me from doing so."
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Because his baby deserves to sleep safely and comfortably in its case. When he comes back, the towel is wet, and he uses it to clean the cum on her thighs. He works gently but quickly, not wanting to do any riling up either.
Then he joins her under the covers and brings her closer to cuddle.
"Good night, Miriam." A kiss for her forehead.
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While he goes to put the lute away, Midge pulls back the blankets and sheets from the bed. When Jaskier starts to clean her thighs, she smiles at him and kisses the top of his head. It’s such a sweet, intimate gesture, and it only makes Midge grow more fond of him.
She lies in his arms, feeling safe and warm. “Goodnight, Jaskier,” she replies, giving him a tender kiss to his lips.
it can Jaskier's phone with a call from his family, or Midge's from Joel/parents. your choice lol
His plans are ruined early in the morning by the ringing of a phone in the living room. Not the apartment one, but one of their devices hiding in their bags. Hard to tell which one.
Jaskier groans in frustration and hides his face in her neck. "Nope, nope, not doing that, too early for that."
let’s let it be his family this time!
She’s in and out of sleep when she hears the phone ringing. Midge groans and rolls over. “That’s not my ring,” she murmurs. The devices have three to choose from and she didn’t pick this one.
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It doesn't stop. In fact, the basic phone ring becomes Toss a Coin, which means this is Yennefer using magic and Jaskier's dick is in danger. While cursing in every language he knows, Jaskier (very reluctantly) leaves the bed and drags his feet to the living room, where he grabs his bag... only to remember that his phone is in his jacket. More cursing while he finds it among his clothes on the floor.
His grumbling calms down just a bit when he hears Yennefer's exhausted voice. She and Geralt dealt with some big bads last night, and now she needs to rest instead of working on a potion order. Usually, she'd be handling the client, being a powerful woman and all, but she doesn't have the energy. Jaskier promises to take care of it-- only to suddenly choke on his own tongue when Yennefer teases him about his current activities. Just in case Midge has been hearing him, he changes to Elder and ends the conversation as soon as he has an opening.
On his way to the bathroom, he peeks into the bedroom and tells Midge-- "The snake wants you to know she'll cover up for you if you decide to chop my cock off."
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When he returns to the bedroom, Midge is half covered in the sheet. She stretches as she looks up at him with half-closed eyes. “Yennefer?” she asks, then gives a short laugh. “Why would I want to chop off something that gives me orgasms?”
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Jaskier then relieves himself and washes his face really quickly - simply because the cold water helps him wake up. He'd love to go back to bed, but he has to visit that client and get ready for his gig, so he doesn't have much time to spare.
While the tub fills up, he returns to the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed next to Midge, bending over to kiss her lips. "Good morning."
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As much as she doesn’t want to get out of bed, the hot bath sounds inviting, especially because Jaskier will be in it as well.
“Good morning,” she tells him, returning his kiss. Midge allows him to help her up out of the bed and into the bathroom. “What did Yennefer want?”
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Usually, Jaskier is nothing but a gentleman and lets ladies go first - however, the tub requires a different setup. He gets in first and sits against the back before opening his arms and legs, inviting Midge to sit between them.
"She needs me to deal with a client. So I'll have to leave soon, but I do have time for breakfast. That is, if there's food in this place." It occurs to him now that if the place is usually empty, the fridge may be too.
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“The one thing I didn’t think of,” Midge laments. “There’s a cafe on the corner though.” It will require getting dressed, but Midge supposes that they’ll have to do that anyway.
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It's not every day that he meets someone who can match his level of horny, and she went along with every idea he had. Amazing isn't enough to describe it, really.
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She’s become insatiable.
Midge takes one of his hands and laces their fingers before lifting it to her lips and kissing his rings. “I had so much fun with you.”
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"You still want that massage?"
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“Yes, please,” Midge murmurs when she pulls back. “You know how to make my body feel so good.”
Teasingly, she runs her toes against his shin and leans her head back for another kiss.
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"You have an amusing idea of what a massage entails." He winks at her before slightly moving her forward - as much as he enjoys the feeling of her body against his, he's got a job to do. The soap is rubbed on her back until she's well lathered up, then Jaskier puts those calloused fingers to work. He starts at her shoulders and slowly makes his way around her back, gently yet still strong touches that make sure to catch every knot.
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“You’ll just have to make sure you get all of my parts.”
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He still takes his sweet time with her back, because he truly wants to show off his massaging skills. The fact that bathrooms in this world have great acoustics also help; he enjoys hearing her moans echoing on the walls.
Once he's done with her back, he lathers up his hands before his arms go around her waist again. They softly rub her belly as they move up to reach her breasts, covering them with soap as he massages those thoroughly as well. His mouth falls on the back of her neck, dropping open-mouthed kisses while his cock begins waking up against her arse.
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When Jaskier moves his hands to her front, she takes the opportunity to lean back against him, her head on his shoulder. His touch to her breasts feels absolutely divine and her nipples harden almost immediately. This massage may not be explicitly sexual, but he can’t put his hands on her without turning her on.
Midge can feel his cock starting to press against her. Apparently this is a turn on for him too.
“Do you like getting to rub my tits like that?”
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Since the fact that they're both quite into this is out in the open now, Jaskier stops his massaging just to play with her nipples, grinning when he feels how hard they already are.
"I think someone is enjoying this more than I do, however." He nibbles her earlobe before whispering into it. "Always so ready for me. It's addicting - intoxicating, really. I want to keep you on my lap all day." His hands go down, rubbing her belly and playing with her belly button. "Maybe I should call the client here, while you're bouncing on my cock." Calloused fingers only tease the top of her mound before going to her thighs to continue the 'massage' there. "Take you to the stage with me tonight so I can perform with my dick between your tits and mouth."
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A moan leaves her mouth at the naughty images his words paint in her mind. “Have you put some kind of spell on me to make me want you all the time?” Midge asks. “Some potion in my drink that makes me constantly horny for you?” Because she pretty much is. Jaskier could very easily have her just about anywhere. Her fingers stroke slowly up one of his inner thighs. “Do you think you could manage to not moan over the phone while my tight cunt is around your cock?”
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His whole body shivers when she touches his thigh and his hand falls on her mound, lazily rubbing on the outside for now. The warm water around them makes his body feel even hotter than his arousal already does.
"Is that a challenge, my lady? Do you think you could make me break?"
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His hand is so close to where she wants it, and yet so far. The teasing is so delightfully frustrating for her.
“I know I could.” Midge is very confident about that.
“This bath was supposed to clean me up and yet you’ve just made me even dirtier.” Her lips find his for another kiss, her back arching so that she can reach his mouth.
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He laughs into the kiss and his free arm wraps around her waist to bring her as close as possible so she doesn't have to arch so much. The height difference really helps for positions like this, even if it means Jaskier's neck may complain later.
"I made it dirtier?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "Remind me whose toes started the teasing?"
His fingers finally slip in and start massaging her folds. "I love sex in the bathtub, but it does have one flaw: I can't feel how wet you are. Care to tell me?" His ego loves hearing how much she wants him.
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“Dripping,” Midge tells him, “ever since you told me good morning.”
Midge’s toes keep moving over his leg since he seems to be enjoying her teasing touch. One of her hands joins in as well, tracing shapes on his chest.
“My cunt is always ready for your fingers or your cock.”
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Jaskier is a firm believer in foreplay, but they are supposed to have a quickie now, aren't they? He's done lots of teasing last night. And he may not be as strong as Geralt, but he is pretty fit and Midge is so beautifully petite...
It's easy for him to turn her around on his lap, making her sit on his throbbing dick and causing water to splash everywhere. He uses that water to wash the soap off her breasts so he can close his mouth around them, adding a new hickey to the ones he made last night. His hips keep thrusting against her to rub his cock against her groin.
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“Jaskier,” she breathes. “You don’t have a condom…” That doesn’t stop Midge from grinding on top of him, but she still wants to give him the warning.
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"Are you going to leave this tub? Because I'm not." His hands guide her down and center, so his length is fully trapped between her folds and the bottom of her ass. His mouth goes to her ear. "So better keep grinding, darling."
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The way he’s sucking on her nipples and squeezing her ass has her so distracted that she can’t even form a whole sentence. What she’s trying to say is that if he wants to have sex with her without a condom, they should be safe. Should be. The rhythm method is not an exact science and Jaskier seems very averse to getting her pregnant. Not that she’s looking to get pregnant either.
Midge tries for whatever purchase she can get with her knees on the slick bottom of the tub. She keeps moving her hips on top of him, sliding his hard cock through her folds. It’s a lovely sensation though she can’t help but want more.
“Do you want my hand instead?”
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He's had enough orgasms last night, he thinks, to be in control now. He definitely isn't desperate or on the edge. Mmh.
"You want to feel me raw, Miriam?" he asks before his hand reaches for his hard cock and guides it to her entrance, slowly going in as he throws his head back to moan.
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With Jaskier inside of her, Midge isn’t thinking about risk. She rides him in earnest, making small waves in the bathtub. She braces herself with her hands on his chest and tosses her wet hair back, her breasts bouncing in time with her thrusts.
“You feel so good…”
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Jaskier braces his feet on the edge of the tub so he can meet her riding with his thrusts, panting and moaning with every move. His nails dig into the skin of her arse and his neck bends over the back of the tub so he can admire her beautiful face and the way her breasts bounce.
"Gorgeous, just gorgeous... that's it, darling, so good for me... ride me hard, show my cock how much you like it raw."
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It feels so perfect without the barrier of the condom between them. Midge squeezes her walls around him with each thrust back, tugging at his cock.
“Touch me…”
Her pleasure is building slowly, but stimulation to her clit will cause it to build exponentially. Leaning down, Midge presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Jaskier’s lips.
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The water is starting to get cold, yet he isn't aware of it - both their bodies are rather hot at the moment. The water splashing just adds to the music of their moans and the amazing sound of her bottom pounding on his groin.
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Pulling back from his face, she gasps for breath, her eyes screwed shut as she chases her orgasm.
“Yes… like that… I’m gonna come on your cock…”
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Knowing how much she likes it, his other hand reaches for her tit, squeezing it and pinching before he closes his mouth around it again. Cock, hand, mouth - they all touch as much of her as possible, hoping to make every inch of her body succumb to pleasure.
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Midge breathes softly against his neck, keeping his cock inside of her.
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Her walls squeezing around his cock definitely push Jaskier toward the edge. He makes sure to help her ride out her orgasm first, not letting go of her clit until she collapses on top of him.
"Gorgeous, simply gorgeous," he whispers as he showers her face with kisses. His cock pounds into her just a few more times before he pulls out, then a shaking hand places it between her folds and the bottom of her buttcheeks. Jaskier desperately rubs his aching erection against her, her orgasm serving as lubricant even underwater. Soon Jaskier's blissful moan is echoing in the bathroom too, his seed falling on her arse just for a second before the water washes it away.
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The way he thrusts between her folds and butt cheeks is a different but not unpleasant sensation. His orgasm is beautiful music to her ears, and she doesn’t mind feeling him come on her.
Midge gently strokes his hair and gives him a tender kiss. “How was that, my sweet bard?”
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It's her question that brings him back to reality.
"The perfect way to start the day, if I say so myself." He kisses her just as tenderly. "Standing ovation, my lady. I'd ask for a reprise if I had the time."
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“There’s always tonight.”
They’re seeing an awful lot of each other, aren’t they? Midge isn’t really complaining about it, but Jaskier was pretty clear about not wanting a relationship. And yet, he seems to cherish her so much. It leaves her with mixed feelings, considering that she’s not even sure if she wants a relationship.
[ OOC: want to fast forward to his show? ]
we can fast forward after this amazingly awkward moment lmao
Jaskier closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is why having friends-with-benefits can be so hard at times. Which is frustrating, because they're much more fulfilling than one-night stands. He likes having a connection with his lovers.
He throws water on his face and rubs his eyes, gathering the strength to have this conversation.
"Midge," he says looking up at her, not daring to stand up yet. "I'd love it if you come to see me perform. But tonight is Rainbow Road. That means I'm leaving that club with a man."
She isn't the only one who wants to be dicked real good.
oh jeez
There’s a long moment of silence before Midge replies to him. “Oh. Right. Of course.”
She agreed to all of this, didn’t she? What was she expecting? She said that she could handle a relationship like this, that she wanted it, even.
Why does she feel like she’s been kicked in the ribs?
Midge feels foolish standing naked in the middle of the bathroom, so she wraps a towel around herself and starts to dry off.
“You said your family would be there tonight, right?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.
She’d like to meet them, if he wants her to. If she backs out now or doesn’t show up tonight, Jaskier will think that she can’t handle something casual. Midge has no choice. She has to go.
But she’ll make a quick exit afterwards so that she doesn’t have to see who he goes home with.
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It does make him wonder if she can truly handle this. A worried Jaskier watches her for a second and remembers how new all this is to her - this isn't a woman playing some kind of game, she's a sheltered housewife. So he decides to give her a chance; she's earned that much. It may not be as fun as new sex experiences, but it's another thing she can learn about the real world, just like Jaskier got to see what the real world outside the fancy family estate was like when he was just a teen.
He leaves the tub and grabs another towel to help her with her hair, staying behind her in case she doesn't want to look him in the eye right now.
"Yes, they will," he answers as he gently dries her hair, softly petting her head in the process. "But you don't have to come if it makes you uncomfortable. I'll have other gigs."
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In spite of herself, Midge closes her eyes when she feels him drying her hair. “Scared that Yennefer is going to tell me something embarrassing about you?” she asks. “I’ll be fine.”
It’s easier to lie to herself when she can’t see either of their reflections in the bathroom mirror.
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"As long as you're sure." Jaskier kisses her shoulder before stepping back, leaving the towel on top of her head as a protective hood. He then steps back into the tub to wash up really quickly - he soaped her up, but he didn't clean himself. "Are we still having breakfast at the cafe?"
He isn't sure where their boundaries lie at the moment.
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Feelings safely tucked away, she smiles at Jaskier. “Sure.” They’ll discuss other things and Midge won’t think about his gig until it’s time to go to the club. “I need some coffee after all that sex.”
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At least breakfast goes well. Once they're out and about, chatting about everyday things, it seems Midge's mood improves. Jaskier hopes it's a good sign for the future. Before they split, he makes sure to explain that these flowers will live longer, but they still need their water. Even magic needs its fuel.
The client is a complete ass, but honestly, Jaskier takes out his frustration from earlier with him, so it works out. The day passes in a blur, and before he knows it, he's at the club getting ready to perform.
He isn't on stage yet when Midge arrives. She'll notice only a handful of men turn to look at her - all the attention she gets comes from other women.
Yet it's still a very deep, manly voice that talks to her from the dark corner of the club.
"Did he bribe you to come?" The voice is, of course, Geralt's. He's sitting at a table with simple black jeans, a black leather jacket, and -you guessed it- a black t-shirt. A hand is on his beer pint, the other one is around Yennefer's shoulders. She also wears black, but her dress is elegant and beautiful, with touches of white and gray that emphasize her silhouette. A glass of whine is in her manicured hands, and the shadow that Midge recommended frames her eyes.
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Geralt’s voice is hard to miss and Midge gives him a smile. “What do you mean?” she asks. “I’m here every week.” She wonders briefly if they think she’s a fool coming to a place like this. Regardless, even if Jaskier strikes out tonight (and she doubts he will), he’s not coming home with her. He’s made his choice for tonight and Midge won’t settle for being a consolation prize.
“You must be Yennefer,” Midge says to the woman whom Geralt is holding onto for dear life. The men in this club must have gone nuts when they saw Geralt, only to see Yennefer at his side. “Midge. Nice to meet you.”
She takes a seat next to Yennefer, not wanting to sit too close to Geralt in case the witch thinks she’s making a run on her man. “Your makeup looks great. Is that the liner that Jaskier bought you?”
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Yennefer keeps a close eye on Midge, curious about the woman Jaskier talks about so much. She does notice Midge's style and respects her taste. Her choice of seat doesn't go unnoticed; it confirms she's as smart as Jaskier said. Yennefer can appreciate that. Without Triss and Sabrina here, her contact with other women (besides her daughter) has been low. Maybe Jaskier is onto something here.
"Likewise," Yennefer replies with a nod. "Yes, it is. You have good taste." She knows who recommended it, alright. "Except for your music preferences."
That's just a jab at the bard, don't mind her.
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A waiter comes to take her order and she asks for a martini before turning back to Geralt and Yennefer.
“Yeah, well, try not to hold it against me,” Midge replies, realizing that she’s really insulting Jaskier. His ego does need a bit of deflating, doesn’t it? Midge did nothing but prop it up all last night. She guesses that’s what five orgasms in 24 hours does to a woman.
There’s silence at the table for a moment as Midge observes the other two, each of them with otherworldly eyes and auras. She’s never had much experience with the magic-using community here, though most of them don’t seem as ‘high fantasy’ as Geralt and Yennefer. Neither of them are very talkative either, so it’s up to Midge to do what she does best.
“Jaskier speaks highly of both of you,” she says.
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Midge's next comment makes Geralt feel a bit awkward - even after all these years, he still doesn't like how Jaskier presents him as some kind of big hero. His self-esteem doesn't allow him to see himself as much.
"He exaggerates a lot."
"I sure hope so," Yennefer says at the same time, showing her completely opposite reaction to compliments. She may not be Jaskier, but she thinks highly of herself, too. "He spoke highly of you as well. You must've caused quite an impression to stand out among his usual lovers like that."
Geralt sighs, knowing Jaskier will get mad at her for that comment later.
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The witch’s comment takes her aback. Midge doesn’t think it’s intended to be a backhanded compliment, the way that some women insult each other with kindness. And yet, she’s not sure how she feels about being referred to as one of Jaskier’s lovers. It’s what she is, of course, though saying it out loud is rather blunt. Is it a good thing that he’s spoken about her to his family?
She clears her throat, her cheeks a bit pink. “Yes… well. I was glad I could come tonight. It’s one of the few nights when I didn’t have a gig too.” It doesn’t really matter that they’re at Rainbow Road. Even if the gig was at Elftown, he still could have gone home with someone else. Would it have been better or worse for her if it were a woman?
Not wanting to dwell too much on whatever is going on between she and Jaskier, Midge changes the subject. “How are you finding Earth?”
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Yennefer sips her wine while watching Midge closely, studying her reactions. Her eyebrows raise at the change of subject, but she doesn't comment on it.
"It's been... interesting, to say the least," she replies as she puts her glass down. "Mostly, it's been relief. We're willing to overlook this realm's quirks if it gets us away from war." From Nilfgard.
"Too much fucking paperwork," Geralt adds with a frown.
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“You could have landed in a worse country,” Midge says. “Immigrants have been coming to America for over two hundred years.”
Her martini arrives and Midge has a sip, gazing up at the stage. “Jaskier said you had a rough night last night.” He’d given her what basic details he knew over breakfast. They’d had to deal with a monster, which was why he had to deal with one of Yennefer’s clients.
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I hate portals, Geratl grumbles under his breath. And that sound becomes a growl when Midge asks about last night. He drinks more of his beer before answering, although alcohol doesn't affect him that much.
"People here keep complaining about the monsters invading through the portals, but they still want to touch them and take pictures. So many idiots getting hurt. It was a fucking mess."
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“With some people, it’s very tempting to let natural selection run its course,” she replies. “Do you get called in by anyone in particular? Local governments?”
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Yennefer shakes her head, a bit tired of Geralt not paying attention to that kind of thing. She's about to tell Midge that Jaskier will have better knowledge of their clients, but at that moment the lights go down and the announcer invites Jaskier the bard to the stage.
Jaskier's wearing his full bard outfit today, except for the hat. Long coat, brocade vest, big puffy sleeves under the jacket. He's also made his eyes very smoky with the makeup Midge recommended, which emphasizes his blues. People here like it when he's colorful and outlandish; in fact, they encourage it. Saying fuck it to what is expected of their sexes is what their community is about, and Jaskier loves to encourage it. Besides, it feels fucking good to go all out like this.
He leaves the lute against the stool by the microphone before sitting down... with a guitar. Learning new instruments has been an obsession since he arrived, and while he hasn't mastered them, the guitar is close enough to the lute for him to do at least one song.
With a soft smile, he winks at the audience before he starts playing Love Run, his smooth voice flowing into the mic and echoing in the club. Jaskier looks at every face in the audience, making them feel like he's talking directly to them. When he notices Midge, his eyes soften and his smile grows.
Soon, couples are on the dance floor, rocking close to each other while basking in the lyrics. Midge may even receive offers to dance from other women. Geralt leans back and Yennefer rests her head on his shoulder, both of them keeping their eyes on the bard with all the attention in the world. They may give him shit, but it's clear they still care for him and do like the sound of his voice.
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She politely turns down any women that ask her to dance. It’s flattering, but she’s not interested. Jaskier sounds great and Midge sits back to enjoy the show.
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Once the slow song is done, everyone claps and Jaskier bows to the crowd. But he isn't done yet. He grabs the mic and brings it close, speaking with his more seductive voice.
"Good evening, my rainbow walkers. Are we ready to have some fun?" The crowd cheers as he grabs his lute. "I think a few regulars may know this one~"
He jumps off the stage to join the crowd as he starts playing his tavern songs and funny ditties. More people join the dance floor, even without a partner. They're happy to stomp, clap, and do some of the moves Jaskier has taught them, going from arm to arm around the dance floor as if it truly was an old-timey tavern. Jaskier flows around them, never missing a beat as the end of a song becomes the beginning of another one in a seamless connection. He smiles and winks for everyone, not minding it when men get too close to brush their bodies against his.
When he has a clear view of his family's table, he grins at Midge and tilts his head, inviting her to join, too.
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She gets the hang of the dances very quickly and is soon lost in the crowd, dancing with both men and women alike, though never partnered for long. It’s easy to get lost in the music, though her eye always searches for Jaskier. He’s in his element, performing his upbeat songs for the dancing crowd around him. Seeing him glow like this only makes him more attractive to her.
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After a few more songs, Jaskier returns to the stage to end his performance with another slow tune so the couples can enjoy themselves one more time. By the time he's done, the whole crowd claps for him with all their energy, and he bows a couple of times just to enjoy the attention. On his way out, he even blows a few kisses.
Minutes later, Jaskier approaches the table with open arms.
"Absolute success, and I'm kicking out anyone who dares to deny it."
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“I could make jokes, but I won’t,” Midge tells him after she pulls back. “That was wonderful.”
Not to pump up his ego, but it’s true. Midge had a lot of fun watching him and it seems like the rest of the crowd did too.
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Both Geralt and Yennefer roll their eyes at that, so in revenge, Jaskier steals Yennefer's cup to drink her wine. She smacks his hand as he does so, but that doesn't stop him.
"Get me kicked out, this place is too loud," Geralt says in obvious sarcasm, but Jaskier kicks his leg anyway. He barely feels it. Geralt is supposed to be working on being a better friend after the mountain fiasco, though, so he adds- "You did well." Yennefer nods, and in both cases, those little things mean a lot in their grumpy ways of communicating.
Jaskier smiles more sincerely instead of his smug grin, and he's about to answer them when a gasp escapes his lips. He turns to Midge. "Speaking of jokes! Do you want to take over the stage? I can talk to the manager."
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She’s a little surprised when Jaskier asks if she wants to get on stage. Her plan was to finish her drink and leave no later than Geralt and Yennefer do. With Jaskier’s concert over, they’re probably heading out soon and Jaskier will be on the prowl for whomever he’s going home with that night. Midge hesitates, eying the stage.
“Do you think they would let me?” Midge asks. And will Jaskier have the decency to at least wait until she leaves before cozying up to someone else?
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"Let's leave that for Plan B," Jaskier decides, which earns him a glare from Geralt. He really hates it when they team up against him. "Be right back."
Jaskier rushes to the counter and bends over it, shaking his perky butt in the air while flirting with the manager. It only takes him a few minutes and a hand strategically placed on the manager's bicep to get what he wants.
He returns to the table with a fruity drink in his hand and a smug grin on his face. "The stage is yours, my lady," he announces as he sits next to Geralt. "Last door on left."
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When Jaskier tells her she can get on stage, she’s actually kind of nervous. Midge doesn’t really need time to prep. She’s done her jokes dozens of times and she’s good at improvising others. She’s just not sure how this crowd will react to her.
Any exposure is good exposure. She wills her feet to walk to the stage.
People in the club turn to look at her as she approaches the mic. Midge’s eyes dart to Jaskier, who is smiling at her. She takes a breath.
“Uh, hi. Good evening. I’m Mrs. Maisel. I hope you don’t mind that I’m up here saying a few things. My friend Jaskier has so graciously offered me the stage. Let’s give him another round of applause.”
The club roars its appreciation for the bard and Midge claps too.
“Yes, Jaskier is the only person I know whose tits are nicer than mine, though I think there might be disagreement about that amongst some of the women here tonight.”
[ OOC: I’m probably going to handwaive most of her set because I’m not good at writing stand up lol. ]
lmao dying at the tits jokes. and of course!!! wasn't expecting you to write the whole set.
The joke is well received by the crowd, too, of course, especially the women. They cheer and wolf-whistled - a female voice from the back even yells exactly what she wants to do to Midge's tits.
;D
Geralt actually has the nicest tits, but there’s no way Midge is going to make jokes about him.
The laughter boosts her confidence as always and she hears the heckle from the back of the room.
“Ma’am, please, control yourself. Save it for Marlene Dietrich. I heard the Sewing Circle is looking for new members.”
Midge hits her stride then, moving into her usual jokes, though trying to tweak them for the crowd here. She absolutely commands the stage, as more and more of the club’s eyes turn to watch her.
After about ten minutes, she wraps it up. They’re not here to see a comedy act and she’s not being paid to do one.
“Anyway, thanks for letting me get up here. You’ve been a great audience. I’m Mrs. Maisel… goodnight!”
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However the door that goes backstage has been blocked by women, who immediately surround Midge when she comes out. Jaskier finds this incredibly amusing, so he leans back against the bar and watches Midge deal with it while biting his lower lip not to laugh too hard.
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Eventually, she’s able to politely extricate herself from the gaggle of women and make her way to where Jaskier is at the bar. She thanks him for the offered martini and takes a sip.
“So, I think that went well.” Or at least it did to a certain population of women who are sorry about Midge’s divorce and wonder if she’s interested in trying something different.
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"Well? It was fantastic. Congratulations." His expression softens. "And thank you. People here... they need the laugh."
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Rising to her toes, Midge kisses Jaskier on the cheek, but that’s as far as she goes with physical intimacy. She’s not sure what’s expected of her here, as she’s trying to respect the fact that Jaskier is looking for a man tonight. He probably doesn’t want Midge hanging all over him. Still, it feels so strange after last night.
“I’m glad I got to meet Yennefer,” she says. “I think she begrudgingly tolerates you.” Midge’s tone makes it sound like that’s a positive thing.
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He snorts at he comment. "It's alright, you can say she hates my guts." He winks, clearly joking. "She's a bitch, I'm a bitch, it was bound to happen." He grins as his tone grows in teasing. "I'm glad you liked her. Here I thought you'd be jealous of her makeup."
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Midge shrugs. “Her makeup looks good. I like mine better. A bit more subtle.” She sips her martini. “She and Geralt seem well-suited.”
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"To think I used to rant to Geralt about how she was ruining his life," he says with a chuckle. "Her people weren't happy either. A fine lady supposedly deserves better than a wild man." He pauses as he wonders if Midge's parents have commented on the flowers. "They sorted things out before we came here, but I admit I was worried war would tear the family apart. So I'm glad this place has given them stability." He tilts his head at Midge. "Not many people see that."
He's happily impressed - she has a good eye.
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“They certainly look good,” Midge replies. A fine lady and a wild man. He could be describing the two of them, couldn’t he? “They balance each other out, his humility and her confidence. And it’s clear that neither of them are social butterflies.” Midge shrugs again. “It probably works for them. Imagine if one of them were wildly social and the other one wasn’t?”
Thank goodness she and Jaskier are both extroverts.
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"You're just describing twenty years of me dragging Geralt to places," he replies between chuckles. "Yennefer can be more social, but only if it's with people who can keep up with her. She appreciates good conversation, but she has 'no time for idiots'." He signs the quotation marks to indicate that's what Yen said. "I bet you could handle her."
Jaskier thinks Yennefer needs to get a bunch of female friends, but it's been hard to achieve that here.
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More than a little, but as soon as Midge can stop feeling like she’s about to get turned into a frog at any second, they should be fine.
“It’s a strong personality. Most women aren’t like her.” Surely Jaskier has noticed that. She glances up at him. “Should I invite her for coffee or something?”
Midge can take the initiative if Jaskier thinks Yennefer won’t.
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Indeed, Yen's very different, and Jaskier likes that - he likes strong personalities. Of course, it took him years to appreciate it, but that's a different matter.
He beams when Midge considers befriending her. "You truly are interested? That would mean a lot." He glances at the table before looking back at Midge. "Let me chat her up during the week before I give you her number, does that work for you?"
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Her eyes soften as they meet Jaskier’s. “You were really great tonight,” she tells him quietly. “The crowd here loves you.”
Yen would hate Imogene lmao
He smiles softly in return. "Thank you. I admit it's my favorite place to perform. No need to hide anything here." He looks at the crowd, admiring all the people who have finally found the freedom to flirt. "I know there have been one or two comments about otherworlders, but they aren't common. This is a non-bigotry space." He nudges Midge playfully. "If you wish to perform here again, let me know and I'll get the manager's card for Susie. Most performers avoid it to 'protect their reputations'. We could do with the extra support."
she absolutely would
“Ironically, Susie might be the one who doesn’t want me to perform here,” Midge says, sipping her drink. Her manager might see it exactly as that - putting Midge’s reputation at stake. Or she might think that it’s not high profile enough for her. “Do Hollywood types come in here?”
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"I heard stories of actors and musicians coming in disguise because they keep the truth from the public. But they're simply that - clients. They don't perform. And I don't think talent hunters come around either."
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“She won’t like that,” Midge replies. “But, not every performance that I do needs to go through her. I’m allowed to take the gigs that I want.”
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“Witches are assigned to work for royalty where you come from?”
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He nods at her question. "If by 'work for' you mean 'they pretend to be advisors when actually they're manipulating the kings to control the realm from the shadows', then yes."
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Midge smiles wryly. “Honestly, if I could turn people into toads my control would probably be out in the open. I can’t see Yennefer bowing to a king.”
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Is he managing himself alright? He isn't sure. This "industry" has been a hell to navigate. What does success look like here anyway? Jaskier never thought that something could give the Continent politics a run for their money.
He looks up again with a snort. "And that's probably why she didn't last long in the job. But don't ask her unless she brings it up first. Even I don't know all the details."
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“I won’t. So what you’re saying is that the magic users actually control everything where you come from?”
Magic users and non-magic users have clashed on Earth since the beginning of time. It’s only recently that they’ve finally started to put their differences aside.
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"Just frustration about feeling like an eighteen-year-old again. Don't worry." It's not a complete lie, at least. He does feel like a little bird newly out of the nest again.
"I wouldn't say everything, but they're indeed one of the main groups of power. But don't include Geralt in that. Sorcerers may be fine, but witchers are seen as the lowest of the low." He kinda growls that last part, forever angry at the bigotry.
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“That’s what he is? A ‘witcher’?” Midge turns her eyes towards Geralt. “Seems like he performs a pretty important function for everyone. And looks hot while doing it.”
Yennefer is well out of earshot. Midge thinks she’s safe.
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"Next time he comes back covered in monster guts, I'll make sure to stop at your place so you can have a good sniff." He pauses and taps his chin, pretending to think hard about the subject. "Although I don't know if I want you to talk about his tits instead of mine."
Talking about Geralt's tits is his job!
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Despite the fact that she’s trying to remain aloof tonight, flirting with Jaskier is like breathing. Midge does it naturally without even thinking about it.
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He isn't even kidding, even if he's keeping up the teasing. A hand is raised to ask for a drink - they could go back to the table, but they're having fun here and he isn't about to ruin that. It's how he always acts in clubs, anyway - it's rare for him to stay at a table, he flutters from pretty face to pretty face.
"Mine are cozier." Wink~.
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She declines another drink, planning to leave soon. Before leaving her apartment earlier, she’d told her parents that she wouldn’t be out late tonight. It’s the least she can do after spending the night in Midtown last night.
“They’re very cozy,” she agrees. “I liked sleeping on them.”
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"Mmh, since those two are enhanced by magic, I suppose you do win first place for best tits." He turns around to look at 'those two' and sees they're leaving the table. "Fuck, I should say goodbye." But first he turns to Midge- "Are you staying for a dance, at least?"
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“Is… that what you want?”
She guesses he's not in any hurry to pick out who he’s going home with tonight. Midge would still like to be gone before he starts looking.
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"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's so easy to get lost in conversation with you." He takes a moment to make a gesture at his friends, asking them to wait. "Whatever you choose to do, I'll respect it. No hard feelings." A soft smile. "I can even ask Geralt to give you a ride, if you want to test the tit theory."
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“I should probably go. I told my parents that I wouldn’t be out very late tonight.” Midge scoffs at that. “Oi, I sound 16… Anyway, I’ll take a ride if he’s offering one.”
It’s best if she leaves now. Dancing with him will only make her want him when she knows that she can’t have him tonight.
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They join the others at the door and Jaskier convinces Geralt to give Midge a ride without much trouble. They discuss the drinks and the club, which Yennefer and Geralt appreciated because they felt comfortable in. Still not exactly their scene, but better than the average 'classy' restaurant - those may be calmer, but they get stared at a lot (and not for sexy reasons).
Geralt gets on his bike and offers Midge the other helmet with an arched eyebrow.
"Or is your hair delicate too?"
"Oi!" Jaskier complains, knowing that's a jab at him. Yennefer just looks amused.
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Riding a motorcycle in her dress and heels is going to be interesting, but Midge is game. She takes the offered helmet and straps it on her head. “My skull is more delicate than my hair.” It’s the end of the night anyway. Her hair can get messed up.
She turns to Jaskier before she leaves. “Will you text me?” Having him text her is probably easier than her trying to divine when he’s alone and ready to talk.
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He hates the helmet, but he hates cops more, so he wears it to avoid trouble. Geralt drives pretty fast, but thanks to his enhanced reflexes, he's become a great driver in a short time. At the red lights, he checks on Midge for directions.
Once they reach her apartment, he only says goodbye to her with a nod. It isn't until she's about to cross the door that he finally thinks of something to say.
"I know he can be a lot. So-" An awkward pause. "Thanks." That's the best way he can express I don't know why you showed up and dealt with him flirting with everyone in the dance floor.
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He’s a careful driver and Midge feels safe on the bike with him. Also, she can’t lie, it’s really nice to wrap her arms around his muscled abdomen.
Outside her apartment building, she hands the helmet back to him and nods in response. She’s used to him being a man of few words.
When he speaks again, she turns around. Midge can’t read his thoughts, but perhaps Geralt doesn’t realize that she and Jaskier aren’t exclusive?
“Believe it or not, I actually like him,” Midge replies.
A lot. She’s starting to like him a lot.
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There's a pause as he looks up, staring intensely at Midge the same way he looks at a monster for weak spots. "You're a brave woman."
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“Thank you, I guess. He and I aren’t… it’s not a relationship.”
Geralt ought to know that, if he doesn’t already.
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He's seen enough women think I can fix him to know what happens.
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“I’ll try not to,” she replies. “Thank you for the advice. And the ride.”
oh no that icon is making me feel so baaaaad :( sorry Midge
The next day, Jaskier texts her in the middle of the afternoon.
Soooo
How mighty were the tits?
awww I picked it because I don’t get to use it very often and I love her little face
When he texts her, she’s pleased to hear from him so soon. She thought that maybe he was sick of her.
I’ll have you know that I was a perfect lady and kept my hands a discreet distance from his tits. His stomach muscles are hard as a washboard though.
she always look cute in all her icons but that one broke me
It's not like I expected you to grope him! But if you wrap your arms around his torso high enough, you can feel the underboobs. Ah, but experiencing the torso itself is quite an experience too. The trip was not a waste then. I hope he scared one fancy neighbor or two.
She loves you Jaskier
Yeah, speaking of that, my neighbors have already blabbed to my parents about the big mysterious man who drove me home last night. My parents are convinced that he gave me the flowers.
he's slowly falling for her too
Of course, if you want to say that you've caught a bad boy in leather, that'd be extremely funny as well.
Technically she doesn’t love him yet but she’s slowly falling as well
I would tell them about my new bad boy, but I’ll probably get a full blown intervention in response. With the rabbi and everything.
tldr a pair of idiots
Of course, of course, we need to exorcise the naughty out of you. Don't you know? A bit of prayer and a longer skirt will make you a good girl again. How dare you show off your ankles, truly a sin.
Truly
Sinners have more fun.
Who should I tell them gave me the flowers?
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That depends. You want an answer that will calm them down or one that will mess with them? Because I've learned the term "boytoy" and it's spectacular.
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I generally prefer them to NOT be on my case.
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Spoilsport. Fine, just tell them a fan sent them. Never got gifts from fans before?
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I don’t have fans, unless you count the men at The Wolford who heckle me to show them my tits.
I told them that you’re my friend and you liked my show the other night.
[ OOC: I’m tagging with a Jaskier at Folkmore and he introduced himself with his full name and title, though said that she should call him Jaskier. It was funny to me since yours doesn’t want to tell her all of that yet lol. ]
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Oh. I thought you were looking for a lie or excuse, not...
A pause before another text comes.
That's actually very touching. Thank you. I hope your mother doesn't try to steal the flowers for herself.
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It’s mostly the truth. They don’t have to know about our night of unbridled passion.
She thinks they’re nice, but she won’t steal them. I’ve got them on the kitchen table anyway.
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Unbridled passion, huh? I thought poetry was my job.
Ah, that explains it. In the kitchen, she can pretend they're hers as well.
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What would you call that night?
Exactly. Everyone’s happy.
How’s everyone in your house?
1/2
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Passions revealed,
desires sedated,
never once believed,
such pleasures awaited.
With lingering glances,
on satin smooth skin,
through the night we languish,
in the erotica of skin.
Cloths whisper as they fall to the floor,
bringing pleasure in the skin they show,
no rush no hurry all night,
to take it slow.
A trail of kisses,
the soft backs of knees,
bodys aching yearning,
eager to please.
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That’s a lovely poem. I think we did all of that and more.
I would probably be more crass and say that you made me come four times. Five if you count the next morning.
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May I ask how are you going to wash that lovely piece of lingerie without your parents seeing it?
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Hand wash in the sink when they’re not around?
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That's pretty funny. And will you be thinking of what we did with it while you wash it?
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You love my mouth, especially when it’s dirty.
You want me to think about how you sucked on my nipples through the mesh of the bra? How the satin of the panties rubbed on your face as you ate me out?
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Gods, I can still remember the taste. Please do think about it, my naughty lady. I'm curious to know if you easily get wet for me just thinking about it.
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I think you already know that I get wet just thinking about you and the things you do to me.
just realized. what if he wore lingerie under the suit for the event lol
Inspiring.
for the wedding? She’d be surprised, certainly
yeah, he'll have to behave and not put on makeup, so hidden lingeries is his rebelliousness lol
How about
The secret of her clothes is that they whisper a little mysteriously of things unseen
such a rebel
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Are my clothes mysterious?
(by Stephanie Cynthia)
Her birthplace is displeased with her;
Her plain fellows loathe what they see.
Too hushed to their noisy sleeps;
Too quiet to their talking lips.
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It’s sweet that you’re writing a song about me, Jaskier.
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What about your writing process? Anything you may want to share?
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[ She wonders how many of his other lovers he’s written songs about. ]
I carry a notebook with me, much like you do, and I jot things down when they come to me. It’s hard sometimes to find the peace and quiet that I need to think.
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I see. Here is an idea: use that apartment your friend lent you. Not just to fuck me, but for you to take a break. When your ex has the kids, go there. Take a nap. Have a nice, long bath. Eat something tasty. Walk around naked. DANCE around naked. Let it be just you and your senses.
And write.
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That’s really good advice, actually. I thought I’d never actually use the apartment because I didn’t want to be away from home overnight if I could help it. Even if I was out late, I still wanted to come home.
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That's very sweet - and understandable. At the end of the day, we all want to go back to our families. And you are a mother! But even mothers need a break. It doesn't have to be overnight. Take two hours off in the middle of Wednesday.
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I didn’t know Geralt had a creative side.
I think the Goldsteins’ apartment is about to become my second home.
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Geralt is a very practical man. Everything he's carved, he did by copying the real thing. Horses, a pencil holder, a little lute. Lovely pieces, don't take me wrong, I adore them so. Yet I don't know how much the word "creative" applies here. He has... a foot dipped in creativity, shall we say?
That's the spirit! It may be the perfect place for you to explore your body like I've taught you, too. No possible interruptions.
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Talent, maybe? I know I can’t carve anything.
Uh huh. Now you’re just imagining me dancing around naked and touching myself.
(by Thomas W. Case)
Talented indeed, that's something I can agree with. I wish he'd let me teach him embroidery; I bet he'd have a talent for it too. And he needs more hobbies that don't include cards and dice.
Oi, I was just being encouraging!
For pleasure is something to be expressed
if we’re alone or in a marvelous coalition
So I wish you satisfaction in elations quest
as you work the knobs, slants and levers
because this isn’t some kind of competition
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Is he a gambler?
Sure you were. Encouraging me to do it during a time when you’re there to watch, my sweet poet.
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Kind of. Mostly he played Gwent (that's cards). He hasn't lost control of his life over it, but he does like it quite a bit. I haven't told him about that poker thingy and YOU WON'T EITHER.
I was encouraging you to do it in your me-time! But is that what you want to do next time? Watching each other masturbate?
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Never take him to Vegas.
You want to be a fly on the wall during my me-time though, admit it. Just as I enjoyed watching you and whispering dirty things to you.
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...bloody hell. "City of Sin"? Is this for real? Is it LEGAL? How sinful is it exactly?
Someone wants to go now.
You're just trying to get me hard in the middle of the garden. Such an evil woman you are.
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To quote a great actress, when I’m good, I’m very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.
Midge supposes that his night with whoever from the club must be over. She wonders if he’s friends with them or if they were a relative stranger.
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That's a spectacular quote and I shall steal it, thank you. And while I absolutely love it when you're a bad girl, I need to inform you that Ciri is on the same table finishing her homework.
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Is she looking over your shoulder?
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She is not, which is why I could tease and flirt, but this isn't exactly the best moment for an erection. However if you were hoping for some me-time with
guidance~
That I can do.
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I see. You don’t think that texting me naughty things while you know that I’m touching myself is going to make you hard?
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I shall channel that energy in my writing - to describe the fire in your eyes, the swing in your waist, and the joy in your cunt.
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There are a few beaches further out that are more quiet. Let me ask some of my friends about them.
Just out of curiosity, do you frequently share your guidance with others or am I the only one who gets this honor?
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Are you sure you want to know that?
The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He's hesitant, but maybe it may help her get more comfortable with the subject.
Most of my lovers are one-night stands. Only three (besides you) have become repeated encounters, and two of those are men. We only flirt a little when we contact each other to meet later - I don't chit-chat with them as I do with you. I've tried "phone sex" once, and I've been curious about doing it on text, but need the right partner. I don't need someone to have a big vocabulary when we're in bed (the mind can be beautiful in such a variety of ways!); however, words are the protagonists when it comes to using these devices, and "phone sex" has taught me that wit is a must if I have to get excited merely by speech.
I don't think I need to explain who I see as very witty.
(If it counts, back in my world, I "offered my guidance" in the bedroom in the form of sitting back and talking while I watched.)
Sorry to keep disappearing, so tired this week
While I’m sure it would be even better to hear your lovely voice, I think reading what you have to say will be inspiring as well.
So, what should I do? I’m alone in my bedroom.
please don't worry and rest! rl always comes first
Apologies, I've been sent to my room like a hormonal teenager. I may control my erection, but it seems I was still smelling too horny to stay in the garden. This has been classified by the actual teenager as "gross". I could complain about my writing session and tea being interrupted, but I think I may join you and write with just one hand, if you know what I mean.
Let's set up a scene, shall we? Are you alone in the apartment? What are you wearing, beautiful?
ate dinner then passed out, worst time of the school year <3
The kids are here, but they’re napping.
What if I was wearing a bikini? On a private beach with just you and I?
Nothing saying this can’t be a fantasy.
hope it gets better soon!
A private beach - that does sound perfect. Swimming together with the sunset behind us and the warm summer breeze brushing our wet hair. I can see the shape of your nipples on your bikini top, darling. They're hard to ignore.
Thank you <3
Your entire chest is hard to ignore. And your abs. And your arms. I’ve been staring at you all day. Of course my nipples are hard.
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Meanwhile, I’m actually slipping my panties off underneath my dress.
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(Staying dressed in case you get caught, huh? How exciting, to be on the lookout for any noises outside the room. Such a naughty daughter. I am getting comfortable in only my robe, and playing soft music in the radio so I don't have to hold back. Make me loud, darling.)
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(Is your cock hard for me yet?)
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And that bikini top? I let the water take it away, so my hands can cover your breasts instead. They are magnificient as always, I love playing with them. Squeeze them, pinch them. Were they bigger when you were pregnant? Were they more sensitive?
(It's waking up. Are you wet for me yet?)
Night napping strikes again
Well don’t let it float away! I’m going to need that back.
I love when you play with my breasts, bouncing them with your calloused hands and pinching my nipples. They swelled a little bit when I was pregnant and were definitely more sensitive. Are you thinking about me being pregnant, Jaskier?
Because that’s a surprising fantasy coming from him.
(Of course I am, darling. I’m running my fingers over my folds, teasing myself and feeling the wetness pooled there.)
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If they're going to fantasize, then he'll go for his favorite thing: absolute freedom.
Goodness, no. I wanted to tease you about your sensitivity - which I love so. I turn you around and bury my face in your amazing tits, sucking and nibbling like a man dying of thirst. Leaving hickeys on the tan lines. I wonder, sometimes, if I could make you come just from playing with them.
(Always so wet for me, so eager, so pretty and lovely. I'm dancing around my room, rubbing the tent on my robe. The fabric adds a degree of separation - I don't feel my callouses, I feel your manicured fingers teasing me.)
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(I can’t dance around or I might wake the kids. I’m gathering my skirt up around my waist so that I can spread my legs and use both hands to touch myself the way that you taught me.)
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I capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, my hands never leaving your breasts. Everything tastes salty but I don't care, because I can still taste Miriam too - strong, feisty, addictive.
(Ooh, both hands! One for your clit, one for your cunt - simply perfect choice. I want you to take good care of yourself, beautiful. Don't let a single inch go unexplored. Get to know your body all over again, find all those spots that drive you crazy.)
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(It may become difficult to text with both of my hands occupied. My cunt is so wet for you. I’m getting my fingers nice and slick so that I can push them inside and find that spot that makes me feel so good.)
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(Always so wet and ready for me, it's intoxicating. Do you mind if I match you? I have vaseline and fingers eager to explore, too. Worry not, though - my cock is already hard and throbbing just by the thought of how wet you are for me.)
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(You’re putting your fingers… inside? I wish I could be there to see that. Going to thrust your fingers and stroke your hard cock at the same time?)
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(If you want to see it, I'll put up a show for you next time we meet. It's only the thrusting at first - two fingers, well lubricated, slowly opening myself up while I'm on my knees on the bed. I'm not sure how long I'll last in this position - what do you think? Should I let my body fall and trap my cock between my legs and the mattress?)
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(Would that hurt? How would you be able to stroke it that way?
I’ve got two fingers in my cunt and I’m pushing them in as deeply as I can, tilting my hips to try to find that spot. I’m spread wide open on the bed.)
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(I could turn around later. Or get on my hands and knees. Or stand up. You tell me how you want me, darling.
All spread open for me, such a feast I'm missing out on. I know exactly where my spot is, but I shall wait for you, dear. For now, I add a third finger and trust, enjoying feeling so fucking full.)
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(However you’re comfortable. If we do this together, I’d want you on your back so that I can stroke your cock while you thrust your fingers inside yourself.)
Meanwhile, Midge’s fingers find her spot and she lets out a soft mewl before biting her lip.
(Found it, though my fingers aren’t as good as yours are when you touch it. They aren’t as long or as dexterous as yours, my sweet bard.)
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(I'm on my back, as my lady demands. I find my spot and tease it lightly, pretending it's your fingers - shy, exploring, learning what they're doing. Trying just for me - what an honor it is. Gaining confidence with each passing second, because you know what you want and how to get it. Stimulate that spot, Miriam, chase that thrill.)
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(I’m stroking it slowly because I don’t want this to be over too quickly. My clit is throbbing.
Someday I might feel comfortable enough to stimulate yours too. Do you want that?)
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(A good plan. I shall keep it slow, too, then. I'm not touching my cock, I only watch the precum gather on its tip, try not to imagine you licking it.
I'd love that. With your fingers, or with a toy - have you ever wondered what it would be like to be the one doing the fucking, Miriam? To have a man bent over for you, completely at your mercy?)
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(Fuck, I would flick my tongue over the head of your cock, licking up that precum while my fingers keep fucking your ass.
I’ve never thought about it like that, though I’ve enjoyed having men at my mercy with me on top of them. They’re mesmerized by my tits, begging for me to ride them fast.)
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(I dig my heels into the mattress as I yell, your tongue shaking me to my core. And who says we can't do both? You can ride me while I have something up my arse. Your tits ARE mesmerizing, but it'd be torture to merely stare at them instead of playing with them.)
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(And I love when you play with them. I love when you cup them and rub my nipples with your thumbs until they’re stiff peaks and then tease them. I love when you suck marks on them.
I’m stroking my clit now. It’s such a relief, though I’m still not ready to come yet.)
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And he grew up by the coast, but he isn't about to go there. Would only destroy the mood.
I shall get you all dirty now, too, with slopping kisses that leave a trail of spit between our mouths, marks left by my nails on your skin, and coming inside you - because this is a fantasy without consequences, so I'm going to fill you up all so good.
(Good. Don't be. I want you to take your time, get to know your body. When you're not writing to me, play with your breasts. Do to them all the things you like me doing. I won't grab my cock yet, instead I'll also play with my nipples, pretend those pretty nails of yours are scratching by chest.)
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(I’m still wearing clothes, but I can feel my nipples hard through my dress and bra. My fingers are still thrusting inside my cunt… I wish they were your cock instead. One day when I’m alone I’ll do as you said and explore my whole body, see how I can make myself come hard.)
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(Clothes, of course. I forgot about those, I just keep picturing your marvelous tits. My robe is completely open, so it's almost as if I was wearing nothing at all. I keep thrusting too, allowing myself to rub my spot - my back arches, and my moans are drowned down by the music.)
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(My tits are yours. All of me is yours, Jaskier.)
Even as she sends the message, she knows that he doesn’t see her that way. He’s not possessive; Midge wouldn’t want him to be, but she likes being his… even if she technically isn’t.
(I wish I could see you right now. I’m sure it’s even hotter than what I’m picturing in my mind.
I’m teasing my clit, stroking it so lightly in tandem with that spot and trying not to moan out loud, trying not to come yet, even though my whole body is on edge, trembling.
Tell me when to come for you.)
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He doesn't pick up on the extra meaning of her sentence - he thinks she's just saying her body is up for him to do whatever he wants, and isn't that a sexy thought.
(We'll meet again soon, and I'll put up a show just for you.
I'll close my hand around my dick, trying to stroke it slowly, but speeding every time I think about you being so naughty that you masturbate while your family is in the apartment. All naughty and wet for me, hiding your orgasm under your skirt.
Come when you're ready, Miriam.)
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I came so hard, my sweet bard. I wish you had been here to see it.
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It takes him a few minutes to respond - first, he's gotta snap out of his blissful state; and second, he has to find wet wipes on his night table to clean his hand.
breathing his climax
the storm calms down
pleasure floods it
while the breeze calms his body
Thank you for flourishing my Sunday, darling. Glad to hear your orgasm was exquisite as well. If this becomes a recurring way to blow each other's minds when we can't meet, mayhap we should take a few pictures? As inspiration.
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Midge is unsure how she feels about that. Pictures can sometimes fall into the wrong hands, even beyond a person’s control.
If you mean naked pictures, I’d have to think about that.
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No, I meant
Wait, is that something people do?
Fuck, of course they do, how did I not think of it? I'm disappointed in myself! What an amazing idea! So many new ways to use all the inventions this world has! It makes me even more eager to find one of those naughty shops.
Ah, worry not, darling. You don't have to go that far if you aren't comfortable. I just mean a picture of your lovely smile and bright eyes. Mayhaps a bit of cleavage - only for the dress, of course.
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Some people definitely do that. I don’t think I’m one of those people.
Clearly you’ve corrupted me though, because that’s what I thought you meant. I’m happy to give you a clothed picture though.
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He woke up late after his -ahem- busy night.
Indeed, I HAVE corrupted you - however, I think this is a case of you just having learned to expect salacious requests from me. A clothed picture would be lovely, thank you! Would you like one as well?
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I do expect salacious requests from you. I often welcome them.
Yes, I’d like that. Are we just going to swap headshots?
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I'm still learning to use the camera, so I'm guessing a headshot is just the face on the frame, correct? That could work. Maybe something up close and another of the full body? I do like your dresses.
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Oh, I meant like our professional photos. Do you have any of those?
I’d rather take a picture just for you anyway.
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...no. I'm missing something here, aren't I?
Indeed, my idea was to take pictures specifically for each other. Any in particular you'd like to see?
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Maybe you in that suit.
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He isn't sure he needs a casting agent - judging by the name, it sounds like something related to theater, and he isn't an actor. But it can't hurt to be ready.
The suit it is! If you take more than one, would you make it different dresses? I love seeing all your styles.
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People probably don’t want to paint me either. Aren’t those models usually nude?
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I like spending time with you.
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And visit her too.
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Central Park? We’d have to get very far back in the bushes though.
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(She'll probably do it anyway.)
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Otherwise, I guess it depends on how much you touch me and whisper naughty things in my ear.
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I think one man at a time is enough for me.
She doesn’t want to have to share Jaskier with someone in the same bed at the same time. Sharing him in general is enough.
And no, I’m not interested in other women.
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I was joking. You truly hate the idea, huh?
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You keep me very well satisfied, Jaskier. I don’t need anyone else.
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Anyway… I’m sorry if that’s disappointing.
She doubts she’ll take other lovers, unless she decides to try having a relationship again, in which case what she and Jaskier do will have to end.
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Worry not, darling, it's not disappointing. You're fantastic on your own, and I do not regret a single second I spend with you.
He's a little disappointed, but it's tiny. It passes quickly. After a long pause...
I just hope you don't regret anything when you reach my age.
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Jaskier, why is this so important to you? I’m genuinely asking.
She knows that tone doesn’t always come through on text and she wants him to know that she’s not upset. Yet.
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I've visited many a court, sang for kings and queens alike. Seen dozens of women stuck in a life dictated by the rules of high society and what their words may do to their reputations, after their virginities were used by their lordy fathers as a bargaining chip to marry into an even bigger family. And when they become widows, they cry for their dead old bald heads but have nothing left to tell about themselves. I've seen what power does to art and creativity and freedom.
Power and religion, but he knows better than mentioning that one.
It would destroy me to see another beautiful soul been dragged to that hell.
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That hasn’t been my life. I didn’t stay with my cheating husband. I’m trying to have a career. I appreciate that you’re concerned, but I’m taking steps to make sure that I don’t have any regrets when I’m older.
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Indeed you did, and I
(by Lance Remir)
Proud that you have moved on
Proud that you have taken a step
Admiring the progress you have made
Silently happy for you
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I’m glad you’re happy for me.
There’s a pause before the next message.
You care a lot about me and my happiness, and I appreciate that.
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Second time he's mentioned his age, not exactly a topic he likes. That's how much he wants to reassure her.
I do. You're a witty, funny, smart, gorgeous, and creative soul. It'd be a crime not to pray for your happiness.
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We’ve become so fond of each other so quickly.
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I make connections fast when I like something. You think that's a bad thing?
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Not necessarily. I think it means that you and I are well-suited.
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of crap that should've been "someone" not "something" but you got it lol
He has to tease before he thinks too much about the age thing.
Laughing at her slip.
It's alright, darling, I know what you mean. And I agree, we get along because we have a lot in common. No need to panic over the obvious.
LOL how dare he dehumanize her
Perhaps I should just accept it. I just haven’t ever formed a bond this quickly with someone else.
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Really? No love-at-first-sight story with Joel?
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Definitely not. I was interested, but it wasn’t an instant bond.
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Now, see. A sparkly woman like you needs spark in a relationship, too.
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I do, and we had one eventually, but he was more interested in me at first than I was in him.
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I hope you don't mind me asking - what made you fall for him, then?
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I think it was his confidence. He’s not afraid to go after what he wants, including me. Plus, he was sweet and smart and handsome and funny.
Not as funny as me.
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Impossible to be as funny as you.
She has a type, he realizes, because everything she just said applies to Jaskier as well. Yet she didn't feel the spark with Joel - would it be the artist connection that he keeps mentioning?
...I don't remind you of Joel, do I?
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You have some similar qualities, but in other ways you’re very different.
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That's not what I asked. I simply want to make sure you aren't (unconsciously?) seeing me as some kind of replacement. It wouldn't bother me - I've been the rebound many a time. But I'd worry it wasn't healthy for you.
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No. Not at all.
A part of me will always love Joel because we share children, but I don’t want to replace him or get back together with him.
Jaskier can’t really be a replacement if they’re not in a relationship, can he?
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I'd better take a shower and pack for my little trip. Talk to you later?
The next day, Midge will wake up to find a box on her window. Isn't magic great? The cute red box with a pink bow has chocolates and the envelope on the bow says Midge in Jaskier's fancy penmanship.
Inside the envelope, she'll find a little piece of paper that says Yennefer in a different handwriting and her number under it. There are also three Polaroid pictures:
The first one is Jaskier taking a close-up selfie on his bedroom mirror. He's winking for the camera and wearing his robe, so some of his chest hair is visible.
The second one was clearly taken by someone else. Jaskier is sitting on a reading chair by the fire, legs crossed, looking at the glass of red wine in his hand. He's put on his blue suit and all the little accessories he wore for her gig, including eyeliner.
The third picture is wrapped in a piece of paper and has a note from Jaskier. This one may be a little too much. Feel free not to open it at all, or to burn it if I've crossed the line. No pressure. In this one, Jaskier is sitting naked in front of his bedroom mirror, arm resting on a raised knee. He's winking again, and the camera is covering his groin just to tease.
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You work quickly. Thanks for the gift.
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Oh, darling, getting to read you again is a ray of sunlight in a fucking storm. Sorry I didn't see this before; it's been a very long, muddy day. I'm glad you like it. Were the chocolates good? Did you open the third photograph?
Kept falling asleep
It was all very good, especially your naughty photo.
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Especially, huh? Are you saying I'm better than chocolate?
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Do you actually help with the monster hunting or are you just there to observe and write ballads?
I wasn’t saying that. But it’s a nice photo.
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I talk to the locals to gather information. I argue with the client to get well-paid, and with motel and diner owners to get good prices. I gather ingredients for Geralt's potions. I stitch him up when he's done, massage him if he's sore, take care of the tangles in his hair. Back home, I would brush Roach's mane, too. And sometimes I play bait.
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Is Roach a horse?
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Oh, yes! You must be the first person in the history of humanity who got that from context and didn't jump on the bug. Geralt calls all his horses Roach, after the fish. He clearly misses her - so do I, honestly. I know he's been looking at horses here, but we can't exactly have one in the garden.
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Well, roaches don’t tend to have manes, so I assumed. He might be able to stable a horse out of town.
Or just steal one of the police horses.
Don’t do that.
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Police horses?! Why do those motherfuckers have horses in this world? Must the poor creatures walk the street among the very dangerous cars?
You can't drop such a revelation and then ask me not to do anything about it! Geralt will probably want to rescue them. He's already quite annoyed by the whole helmet nonsense.
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Not all of them ride horses. There’s a small brigade that do. ‘Rescuing’ the horses will probably result in jail time.
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Those poor things... as if I needed another reason to hate those cockheads. By the by, do you know how to ride? I haven't done it in a while.
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I know how to ride a horse but I’m not great at it. Mama grew up riding horses in Oklahoma, so she wanted us to at least learn how to ride.
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We've been looking for a place to ride, so if you want to come sometime, let me know.
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Okay. As I said, I’m not great at it. I don’t get many chances to practice.
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You don't need to be great just to have fun. Aren't you curious to see how many 'riding' jokes you can make in one afternoon?
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With you there? Probably a ton. How quickly will Geralt get annoyed?
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Being around horses will keep him distracted. And if Ciri comes too, his attention will be on her. Speaking of my family, did you text Yennefer?
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I try to keep Kosher, which is a Jewish way of eating and has certain rules. I’m not always perfect at it, because some forbidden foods are delicious, such as bacon.
Squirrels are not Kosher.
Not yet! I’ll do it tomorrow if you think she’s ready for it.
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Brisket is cow, correct? Then I shall get chicken. Is there anything else I should know about these 'rules'? I don't want to be afraid of getting you chocolates again.
Please do. She needs friends, especially lady friends. The mall will be fine if you need a place to meet, she'll like the makeup counter and the fancy dresses. But if you have lunch or tea, choose somewhere nicer, not a diner. (And let me know how it goes, or I'll die of gossip deficiency.)
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I’m not supposed to eat meat and dairy together, so a cheeseburger, for example (also delicious), or drinking milk while eating meat. Chocolates are fine.
I have a few ideas. I’ll text her tomorrow.
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Geralt has finally freed the shower, so I need to get rid of the miniature swamp on my head before the smell gets stuck in my clothes. Straight to bed after that, since we're waking up at sunrise.
Talk to you later, darling. And good luck with the witch.
The next day, however, Jaskier doesn't answer any of her texts. Same on Wednesday. If Midge worries too much and asks Yennefer, she'll tell her it's normal. Magic may interfere with the signals, or Geralt may've demanded that all devices be off. Noises may attract dangerous things.
It isn't until Thursday evening that Yennefer writes to Midge with some news: the mighty heroes are back... and Jaskier is sick. It's not serious, just a cold - well, not a normal cold, exactly. Because he was stung by the monster, and while that usually can be easily healed by an antidote, this time the poison has mixed with this world's cold virus, mutating it into something new. Some Yennefer has to do some research to create a new potion. Jaskier isn't in any danger, but he is a bit delirious. If it wasn't for his sick face, she'd almost find it funny.
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Midge does worry a bit when she doesn’t hear from him for a few days, but Yennefer reassures her that it’s normal. They make plans to get together next week.
She’s alarmed when she hears that Jaskier is sick. Midge doesn’t want to impose too much. She asks Yennefer if she minds if Midge comes to see him, and the witch agrees.
After cooking up a batch of matzo ball soup, she puts it in a casserole dish and carries it in a taxi over to where Jaskier and his family live.
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When Midge makes it to the address Yennefer gives her, she'll find a typical Manhattan house. Realistically, newbies like them shouldn't have been able to acquire such a house so quickly. But the place was haunted and barely standing when they arrived; the owner was desperate to get rid of it. So they got it for cheap by throwing an exorcism for free.
It went from 'barely standing' to 'gorgeous' thanks to Yennefer's magic, and the previous owner hates them for it. Inside, Midge will find a very nicely decorated house that shouldn't surprise anyone who has seen how Jaskier and Yennefer dress. They keep the 'average' looking exterior not to get more attention.
Yennefer gives Midge the quick rundown: kitchen on the first floor, a bathroom on each floor, bedrooms upstairs - Jaskier's the third one on the left. The room at the back of the first floor is the magic/potion room, so Midge should stay away from it unless she needs something, and then she should just knock and quickly step back for her own safety. The herbs and the flowers in the garden should be watched at a safe distance, too, unless she has a guide.
When Midge knocks on Jaskier's room, she'll hear a grunted 'yeah' as an answer. Inside, she'll find a mound of blankets on the bed, hiding an annoyed bard.
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Before she goes upstairs, Midge asks for a pot so that she can reheat the soup on the stove. It can simmer for a bit before she takes some to Jaskier. That done, Midge is lead to the sick bard’s room. She smiles at his response. Apparently he didn’t know she was coming over.
Midge opens the door a crack. “It’s Midge. May I come in?”
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"I want to see you," he manages to say. The words are a bit slurred. "But don't want you to see this. Too nasty." He frowns. "Dunno how to do both." Definitely a bit delirious over the fever, just like Yen said.
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“You could cut a hole in the sheet,” Midge offers, trying not to laugh. She steps into the room but doesn’t move any closer to the bed yet. “I promise I won’t judge you on how you look.”
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A hand peeks out to point at the reading chair that Geralt left next to the bed last night.
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“You’re really going to stay under there the whole time?” she asks skeptically. “How are you supposed to eat soup like that?”
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He looks bad, of course, but he’s sick. Midge has dealt with sick kids and a sick husband before. She feels a pang of sympathy and smiles back.
“Apparently this is more than just a typical cold?” she asks.
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Jaskier waits for a gesture of disgust, but she doesn't even wrinkle her nose. Usually, he'd know her better, but the current dizzy state of his brain means he's having funny thoughts, like wondering if she bottled up her real reaction.
"Yeah. Fucker stung me. And now Geralt is doing that thing where he lets guilt make him look like a kicked dog. If he could pout, he would."
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She has a look around Jaskier’s room, noticing that his lute has a prime place of honor. “I told Yennefer that your house is very nice.”
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Jaskier's room is as nicely decorated as the rest of the house. Art hangs on the walls, he has a very large mirror, his own radio and record player, and a walk-in closet. His desk is cluttered with a bunch of piles of paper, plus a combination of both pens and quills.
He should thank her for the compliment, share a story about getting the house and all, but his brain is being dumb today. Jaskier frowns. "...did she drag you here?"
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Midge furrows her brow at his question. “No… we spoke last week to set up plans to get together and she told me that you probably hadn’t texted me back because of bad service on the monster hunt.” Was it desperate of her to even ask why he hadn’t texted her back? Jaskier technically didn’t owe her a response. “Then the next day she told me that you were sick and I asked her if it was alright to come see you.” A beat. “Maybe I should have asked you.”
Maybe he doesn’t want her here.
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Yes, he's implying she's the first lover in this world who has seen his house.
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“You did. Unfortunately for you, it’s not going to be a conjugal visit.”
Jaskier definitely seems loopy and out of it. Maybe it’s the fever.
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He laughs at her joke, although it quickly transforms into lots of coughing. "Would you believe me if I say I'm not in the mood? My whole body is sore. Even my pinky."
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“I’m actually shocked,” she replies. “You must be on death’s door.”
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The same thing happens then: laughing ends up in a coughing fit. "Does that make you the angel that came for my soul?"
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Reaching out, she puts her hand to Jaskier’s head. He’s warm. “You’re not dead yet, are you?”
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Jaskier instantly melts under her touch, and a little happy sigh escapes his lips. Her question goes unheard. "Pet my head?"
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No wonder he has such problems with commitment; neither of his parents were committed to each other. “What was your childhood like?”
The request is sweet and she can’t deny it. Gently, her hand moves back, smoothing down his hair. It’s sweaty and unkempt but still soft.
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Unfortunately, another coughing fit comes, and this one is so bad that Jaskier needs to sit up. As the blankets fall, Midge will notice he's wearing pajama pants and a tanktop a little too big for his body - clearly Geralt's. There's a reason for such a choice in clothing: there's a bandage around his shoulder and part of his chest. The most upsetting part is the veins around that area, which look green.
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She feels like a shrink asking about his childhood, though she doesn’t think hair stroking is part of psychotherapy. When he sits up, he moves away from her hand. That wound looks nasty and otherworldly, like nothing she’s ever seen before. This is why she doesn’t visit swamps.
Once the coughing fit passes, Midge moves to perch on the edge of his bed, then continues stroking his hair. She feels like his mother. Freud would be pleased.
“That looks painful.”
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Jaskier's surprised to see her come this close, considering his current state, so he's truly touched. He barely blinks at her before he's resting his head on her shoulder. His body may be shivering, but he's craving human contact more, so he's happy to stay there and sigh again.
"It isn't so bad now that Yennefer sedated it. You should've seen it when it happened; I was a walking emerald." Meaning, the green veins were all over his body. "But at first? Yeah, hurt like fucking hell. My insides were burning."
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“You know, some people say green is the worst color, but I disagree. I’m sure you looked fantastic in green.”
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At that moment, Yennefer comes in without even knocking. Her hair is up in a bun, which wouldn't be a big deal for anyone else. But letting a visitor see her like this? Speaks volumes about how hard she's working to get Jaskier better.
"I could hear your lungs leaving your body from downstairs," she says before Jaskier sticks his tongue out at her. Very mature. His head doesn't leave Midge's shoulder until Yennefer touches his forehead... with her free hand. The other one has a glass with a black and gray potion. "This should help you breathe, at least." Jaskier reaches for it, but Yennefer moves it away. "Not with an empty stomach." She turns to Midge. "Would you mind bringing him some food?" She knows Midge brought something, just not what.
When Midge comes back, Jaskier is sitting against a pile of pillows and Yennefer's glowing hand is on his shoulder, making the green slip back under the bandage. "Thank you," she tells Midge with a nod. The potion is left on the night table, which is covered with used tissues and an empty tea mug. "Don't get any funny ideas," she warns Jaskier before leaving the room.
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At Yennefer’s request, Midge goes downstairs to get Jaskier some soup. After finding a bowl and a tray, Midge ladles the soup into the bowl and then places the bowl on the tray. She finds a spoon and then walks carefully back upstairs with the tray.
She watches as Yennefer leaves, then carefully places the tray on Jaskier’s lap. “What are you getting funny ideas about?”
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The soup looks fantastic, and with the poison under control for now, his stomach has settled. The smell alone already makes him hungry. "Thank you, darling." He raises the spoon and tastes the broth, humming in delight. "Oh, this is good." He pokes at the matzo balls with the spoon. "What are these?"
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She sits back down in the chair. “Matzo balls. They’re made from unleavened bread called matzos, kind of like crackers. They can be broken down to a sort of corn meal that’s then mixed with eggs and oil and formed into balls. They become very soft when they’re cooked in the broth.”
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(Geralt would want to point out he's walked on Jaskier even more times, so they're even.)
As soon as she finishes listing the ingredients, Jaskier bites one of the balls. Another appreciative hum leaves his lips before he quickly finishes it. "This is delicious. Maybe we should hire you as our chef."
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“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles. “I’ll make my brisket for you next time.”
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He eats another ball and sips more broth before finally grabbing the potion, only drinking half of it now. His nose wrinkles at the taste and he mumbles fucking witches before going back to the soup, which tastes a million times better.
"I can't wait," he replies between sips and bites. "Sorry I worried you this week. I know how hard it can be. When Geralt takes longer with a hunt than usual, it can get quite nerve-wracking as well. What Yennefer told you is true, however. Sometimes I won't be able to reply in the middle of a hunt." He looks at her with glazed but still soft eyes and a small smile. "So I hope you can be patient with me."
Part of his brain detects he's putting some extra weight under those words, but he can't tell what.
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Midge removes the tray and sits back down on the edge of the bed. “It’s fine. I didn’t… think you technically owed me a reply anyway.”
That’s the nature of their relationship, isn’t it? But Midge cares enough about him to want to make sure he’s okay.
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As soon as she sits on the bed, he puts his head on her shoulder again, bringing up a blanket to cover his shivering body. Her presence is really comforting. Her comment, though, makes him frown a little. "Are we not friends? It would be rude of me to ignore a friend's message. You don't have to drop whatever you're doing to answer my silly messages but... if you stopped talking to me, I'd miss you. I like chatting with you."
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“I like chatting with you too.”
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She knows he’s been loathe to talk about it, but he seemed to be opening up earlier. Maybe he won’t mind if she asks some questions.
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The question makes him squirm a bit, but he can't quite understand why. He isn't thinking clearly, but he knows Midge makes him comfortable. "I was disowned when I left," he clarifies as his mind still makes the wrong connections. "So your credit card still wins."
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There’s a bit of silence as Midge thinks about never seeing her family again. She can’t imagine it.
“It’s their loss,” she says quietly.
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The silence makes him uncomfortable, even if he can't exactly tell why. He instantly relaxes when she answers, feeling as if he's passed some test.
"You can fucking bet it is," he replies as he searches for her free hand to squeeze it. His body is sore, yet in a weird way he feels-- at peace? Kind of? It's hard to tell anything right now. "Sometimes I like to imagine that me wandering around with a witcher gave father a good ol' heart attack. But I dunno if he realized the famous bard is his estranged son."
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“He probably does. Parents know their own children. I can’t imagine my kids doing something that would make me never want to see them again. It’s hard to know how he feels, I guess.”
Maybe his parents regret running him off, or maybe they’re just assholes.
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He doesn't think his family truly knew him, but before he can say anything, Midge talks about her own family, and Jaskier knows how hard it's been to juggle career and children. Jaskier squeezes her hand again.
"Your kids are lucky to have you." He tries for a soft, sincere tone of voice, but he's still slurring his words. "Not a single adult in this house had proper parental figures. We don't say it aloud, but I know we all worry about how we're raising Ciri."
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“I can let you know when I meet her,” Midge jokes. “Honestly, as long as you love her and protect her and accept her for who she is, then you’re doing just fine.”
Midge you said no sex, don't get your panties wet over 'viscount' haha
Or at least, he likes to think so. He knows reality isn't so kind.
"Nobody in this family of misfits will ever disapprove of anyone for being different, you have my word." A little sigh. "I do want you to meet her. I wish your kids were her age and they have playdates."
listen, she’s allowed to be impressed!
“Does she babysit?” Ciri’s used to wrangling monsters.
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He loves the color of his eyes, damn those great family genes.
"Babysit?" He sounds confused. "Babysit what?"
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Midge glances down at him. “My kids. She could babysit my kids. I’d pay her.”
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His own eyes are closed, just comfortable to be resting against her. "...oh. That's not a bad idea. I'll talk to the whole family. Mayhaps she can do it just once or twice a week. Teach her to have a job. And... learn more about this world? In your home?"
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Sitting here stroking his hair, Midge feels like she’s petting a very particular cat.
“She only really would be needed if I’m going out and my parents are also going out. I can always give the kids to Joel, but then I have to bring them over there and get them back if it’s not his weekend… We really do need a babysitter. Do you think she’d be interested?”
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He does hum in delight when she pets him, but he'd argue that the cats here are a certain couple. Jaskier sees himself as nothing but a beautiful peacock.
"Honestly? I don't think she would. But I think Geralt and Yennefer may want her to do it, to teach her responsibility and independence. I also think it's a good idea. So let us talk to her."
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No. As much as she might miss him, she would definitely get his cold if she had sex with him, and she’s not sure if any of the green venom would come with it.
He is a beautiful peacock, isn’t he? What does that make her?
“Alright. My kids can be monsters, but she has experience with that. She might like earning her own money too.”
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It makes her a swan - beautiful, elegant, romantic, but also an unexpected serrated mouth.
He nods against her shoulder. "Yeah, I think getting her own money will be the main appeal. But I'll still buy her dresses." He likes pampering her, sue him.
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A swan is perfect for her. They can be elegant birds together.
“Next time I see Moishe, I’ll ask him about buying some dresses for Ciri. Maybe he’ll be in a generous mood and give them to me for free.” Unlikely.
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"Moishe is... your in-law?" He frowns. "Don't ask them anything for me. I don't want you to owe them anything."
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“My father-in-law, yes.” Midge waves a hand. “I won’t owe him anything because I’ll pay him for them. He lets me buy at cost rather than with the retail markup.”
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Suddenly, he walks off the bed. His body is shaking and his legs are wobbly, but he's still determined to reach his desk. From a small box on the first drawer, he takes out a very pretty, sparkly scale, which he gives to Midge with a little smile.
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Midge is surprised when Jaskier gets up. She offers him a hand, but he seems okay. She’s even more surprised when he returns with a jewelry sized box.
“Oh!” she says upon opening it and gazing at the sparkly object within. “What is it?”
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"Sea serpent scale," he explains as he puts it in Midge's hand. "Keep it. Mayhaps you can turn it into a necklace charm or a brooch for your hats."
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Midge looks up at him and smiles. “Thank you.”
It’s a small gift. Maybe it isn’t worth anything or doesn’t mean anything, but Midge is glad to receive it from him.
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He tries to get comfortable on her shoulder again, but he keeps fidgeting. After lots of hesitation, he gets up again and brings his lute case. The fact he's showing her the secret pocket inside proves how important she's becoming to him.
From that little pocket, he takes out two things. "This is from the day I met Geralt," he explains while showing her an old, foreign coin.
The next item is a signet. He thinks the family crest on it requires no explanation. "Never could get rid of it," he admits.
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“Why the coin?” She asks. She takes the ring and runs her thumb over the raised bumps of the crest. “I’m sorry that your family didn’t see the lovely person that you are.”
That happens too often, especially in wealthy families.
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The coin question makes him chuckle. "He left it on the table in the smelly tavern I found him at. I thought it was for my performance, but later I learned it was for his drink." Oopsie, someone accidentally stole. "The first song I wrote for him is Toss a coin to your witcher, in which I ask people to pay him what he deserves. But, you know, indirectly and with a catchy tune."
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She smiles. “You should ask for a cut of his payments, since you’re the one making sure that he’s getting paid in the first place.”
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"How do you think I've been buying clothes and makeup?" He sighs. "My music isn't making much money, if at all. Do not take me wrong, I love helping my family, I always did. We used to share the coin with Geralt while we traveled. But we both earned equally back then. Now... I don't know what I would be doing if I hadn't arrived with them."
Busking, probably. It bothers him a little.
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“It must be hard, having made it back home and now trying to make it here. It’s not easy to make it here.” Ask her how she knows. “And while I think you have a lot of talent, bard music isn’t exactly what the radio is playing these days.” That can’t be helping either.
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"I know. At least, not the catchy songs. My ballads do work, I think. I've been trying to learn..." He points at the guitar in the corner of the room. "It's not very different from the lute. But I've been dying for a piano. Percussion and strings at the same time? I would've never guessed. It sounds so pretty, too."
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“If I hear about anyone selling a piano, I’ll let you know,” she continues. “There seems to be a rise in acoustic folk music lately. That’s similar to what you do.”
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He repeats 'acoustic folk' under his breath while he crawls on the bed to reach his night table. Thankfully, he always leaves pen and paper there, so he doesn't have to stand up again. However, all this movement is taking its toll on his sick body, so when he returns, he lies down and drops his head on Midge's lap before handing her the pen and paper.
"Write it down for me, please? Also your book recommendations, I haven't forgotten about those." They were fucking at the time, though, so recalling the names themselves is harder. "I think a person's favorite art says a lot about them."
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Midge glances down at his head in her lap and shakes her head fondly before writing down some of the book and music recommendations that she had given him earlier.
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The sound of pencil on paper is soothing, and Jaskier soon falls asleep on her lap. He's comfy and warm, although the warmth is probably his own body. Even if his mind is working slowly right now, part of him is aware of a presence that he finds comforting.
Around half an hour later, Midge will hear the front door opening and closing, and lots of heavy things being dropped around the house. In just a few minutes, the door to Jaskier's room opens and Geralt appears with wide eyes, not expecting to see her there. There's a reason for that: he smells like absolute dogshit, and that is blocking his nose. His shirt is clean because he took off the real offender (his armor) and he's barefoot, so no mud left behind. But there are some weird stains on his pants and hair.
"...hello," he says as intense yellow eyes take in the scene in front of him. Soon, the kicked dog face that Jaskier described earlier takes over his expression. The guilt is strong. "Did he trap you here?"
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When she finishes writing down her recommendations, Midge glances down and is surprised to see that Jaskier has fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him to move him, Midge settles in against the headboard of the bed and gently strokes his hair before dozing off herself.
The bangs in the house wake her. She can smell Geralt before she can see him, and tries not to make a face at the stench when he appears at the door.
“Not on purpose,” she replies quietly. “I didn’t want to wake him.”
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He enters the room and gently picks Jaskier up to free her. It's clear he's done this thousands of times before: he knows exactly how the bard fits in his arms and how to drop his head on his shoulder. Jaskier's body unconsciously recognizes Geralt, too, and cuddles closer. He weighs nothing to a witcher.
"Move those things so we can--" tuck him in, he means to say, but Geralt cuts himself short when he notices that next to the paper and the snake scale, the coin and -most importantly- the signet are there too. He growls. "Where did you get that?"
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She gathers up the items on the bed, trying not to take Geralt’s tone as accusatory. This is how he always talks. “The ring and the coin he got from his lute case to show to me. He’s given the scale to me as a gift.”
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"He did?"
Huh. Geralt stares intensely at Midge, realizing she isn't lying but still struggling to believe it. He then looks down at Jaskier as if seeing him for the first time. This is confusing, to say the least, which is new. Geralt usually doesn't have trouble understanding Jaskier, not since the early days when he wondered why the fuck he was following a witcher.
As confusion takes over the guilt on his expression, Geralt tucks Jaskier in. His movements show what a gentle giant he can be, and he even brushes Jaskier's hair off his face before touching his forehead. It seems he's still warm, but at least it isn't burning fever anymore.
He then turns to Midge and stares at her again for a second. "I have to take a shower. You should eat something. Grab whatever you want from the kitchen."
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Geralt is very tender with him and Midge can see the fondness there.
“I should probably go, actually,” Midge replies, gathering her purse and the scale. “I brought some soup over which is for everyone, not just him. Will you let me know if there’s anything else I can do?”
Jaskier’s resting, so she’s content to leave him to it. Hopefully he’ll message her when he’s feeling better.
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He nods at her question. "Thank you. For taking care of him." When he fixes the blanket, he glances at Jaskier's bandage and wonders if Midge saw the poison. "For staying."
It isn't until 3am that night that Midge's communicator gets a message from Jaskier.
Thank you, darling.
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Of course. How are you feeling?
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I'm much better now - Yennefer finished the potion, and the venom is out of my system. My body is still a little weak, but it's good old "recovering from a cold". I slept most of the day and drank the potion after dinner, which is why I can't sleep now.
Everyone loved your soup, by the way.
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I’m glad you’ve improved, and I’m glad they all liked my soup. That’s my bubbe’s recipe and it always made me feel better when I was sick as a kid.
Bubbe is a Yiddish word for grandma.
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Midge will see the three dots constantly appearing and disappearing as Jaskier tries to find the best way to tackle certain subject.
I said a lot today.
Nailed it.
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You did. Geralt seemed surprised.
I hope you don’t regret it. I liked learning about your past, even if it wasn’t a great time in your life.
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The answer takes a few minutes to arrive. He rereads her text over and over, taking in what's happened. She says she liked it, and she was understanding through the whole deal, if he remembers correctly. As nervous as he is, he can't stop smiling at his phone, knowing exactly why his heart is skipping a beat. Even if the fever and poison lowered his boundaries, there's no denying why that part of his life came out and not something else. He has a crush on her, one that may grow into something else if they keep going like this.
Geralt will tell him to end it before it gets worse, he knows. Jaskier bites his lower lip, thinking about all the good points his best friend will have. And then he ignores them.
I'll be honest, I panicked a little when the potion cleared my mind and I remembered everything. I won't pretend that the fever didn't have anything to do with it, because it did. It's something I keep under wraps.
But you were nice. Understanding. Supportive. Somehow, I was... comfortable, in a way.
So no, darling. No regrets.
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She’s getting way ahead of herself. She’s not even sure if this is what she wants, even as she can feel herself starting to fall for him.
I’m happy that I make you comfortable. I think I just have one of those faces, you know? People want to tell me things. One time, a guy in an elevator told me all about his prostate problems.
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As much as I love your beautiful face, however, you must give yourself more credit. People wouldn't open up to you if your spirit wasn't so welcoming and judgment-free.
Is there something you want to tell me or ask? About today?
While he doesn't have any regrets, writing that question is harder than he looks, but he'd better get used to the idea.
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I try to accept people as they are, as long as they aren’t assholes.
His question is an open door and Midge wonders just how eagerly she should go through it.
I want to know what made you finally decide to leave your family, but I can understand if you don’t want to talk about that right now.
Geralt seemed surprised that you gave me the scale.
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Writing it all down takes some minutes - it's hard, but also kinda therapeutic.
Father paid for Oxenfurt University so I could learn Administration & Finances. As soon as I got there, I changed to the Liberal Arts. He didn't find out until the second year when I went home for my break. As you can imagine, he didn't take it well.
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Administration and Finances sounds incredibly boring, so I don’t blame you. Did he cut you off?
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It was a shouting match, so I'm not sure what was first: me announcing I was leaving or him disowning me. Probably happened at the same time. I took some gold from his office before leaving, but once I settled down in Oxenfurt, I started to work. I had a noble education so my skills were valuable. My penmanship is exquisite, so I mostly worked as a scribe. Lots of university documents, but there was also a hidden book shop with taboo texts that printers wouldn't take, I copied those too. The city's theatre troupe taught me how to sew and a bit of embroidery so I could take care of my clothes.
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You’re a self-man man.
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It flatters me that you see it that way. I like to think so, too, but I can't deny that my education and that initial gold gave me a hefty advantage. At the same time, however, it's a bit funny that the skill I used the most on the road was sewing, just to keep my witcher in one piece.
Sorry to disappear but I felt ill so I slept
Could you have lead the lifestyle that you do and still have been the viscount?
oh no! don't apologize, I hope you get better soon!
Absolutely not. It'd be a political nightmare.
I feel better, just exhaustion I think
We’ve both been helped by some advantages from our families.
I’ve heard stories about hedonistic lords but I’m sure there are practical consequences to it.
makes sense. have a good rest!
Hedonistic lords, huh? You think I'm hedonistic because of the fortune I used to have? That's interesting. I've always seen it the opposite way - I got tired of all the rules and having to behave in public, of having to hide who I really was. Life is too short not to be enjoyed.
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For you? Not necessarily. But I know that people who are extremely wealthy can be hedonistic. You’re saying you come by it naturally. What constitutes as ‘behaving’ in public is subjective.
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True, such people do exist. I noticed that these "celebrities" in this world do engage in a lot of wild behaviour behind the scenes. As for what counts as "behaving"... you know what I meant! You can't repeat the things you say on stage in front of your mother's friends!
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Yes, that’s true. I can barely repeat them in front of my mother. Her response to my comedy career is to pretend that it isn’t happening. Or be drunk while watching me.
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...oh, dear. I thought they were more supportive. Drunk, seriously?
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My parents support is more… tacit. Adjacent. Not active. Knowing they can’t forbid me from doing it. Not thinking I’m really going anywhere with my career. But still willing to watch my kids if I have a gig.
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Fuck. I'm so sorry, darling. You deserve so much more. I'm even more grateful now that Susie found you. I should send her a thank you card.
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It could be worse. Even if they’re not really supportive, they also haven’t really tried to stop me. I think they’re hoping that this is a phase I’m going to grow out of, like a teenager.
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That's very true - the fact that they aren't interfering is quite the blessing. I wonder how long they'll keep up the denial. Some day you'll invite them to your hard-earned mansion and they'll pretend they're at the opera.
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And tone is sometimes lost over text.
I’m sure they’ll be much more supportive when I’m making a lot of money. If.
I’ve missed you.
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The next text takes him by surprise, and he can't deny the way it makes him feel all nice and fuzzy inside. There's something to have someone in the middle of the night telling you that they miss you.
I've missed you too. You've spoiled me with good conversation. How am I supposed to argue with small-brained clients now?
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I’ve missed our conversations and your company, but I’ve missed your penis as well.
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And to think Yennefer was worried about what *I* was going to try earlier. Next time, I shall warn her about you.
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Midge sighs deeply. She was hoping that she wouldn’t have to talk about this, but apparently she can’t even hide her emotions over text.
Joel and I got into an argument.
He came to drop off the kids this afternoon and my parents asked in front of him who I had made soup for. I don’t think they meant to ask in front of him, but of course it set off his radar. I told them about you, briefly. Nothing my parents didn’t already know, that you’re a friend of mine that I met recently and that you were sick. My parents are a little less insistent on prying into my social life. Joel still sometimes thinks he’s owed the explanation that a husband would be, which is ironic when you think about it.
He spoke with me in the hall and wanted to know more about you. I gave him a few details that he… wasn’t impressed with. He asked if we were dating and I denied it, because, technically, we aren’t. Joel knows when I’m lying. He knew we were fucking and I denied it because I didn’t want to argue with him, but it turned into an argument anyway.
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Fuck.
The urge to send Geralt after Joel is really, really strong right now. Jaskier takes a moment to frustratedly scream into his pillow before replying.
I'm still recovering so I can't do much. But if you want to come over and cuddle, my arms are open to comfort you.
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I’m not ashamed of you, nor am I hiding you from them, but… they wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t approve of the nature of our relationship. Joel could hardly believe that I was sleeping with someone else. He’s blaming it on the people I’m meeting in the clubs, since I told him that you’re a musician.
Didn’t mention that we met in jail.
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Darling, it's alright. I wasn't expecting you to tell them anything, nor did I ever think you're ashamed of me. Clubs have changed you. Your career has changed you. And that's perfectly fine - natural, expected. Not something to weaponize.
Joel is an absolute arse who needs a good punch in the face. You don't owe him any explanations, Midge. I would've understood if I was around the kids, but I'm not. So next time? Just tell him to mind his own business.
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I told him as much, which is what caused him to end the argument and leave.
He regrets cheating on me and I think he thinks we’re going to get back together someday, but we aren’t. I’m never taking him back.
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So when you called him out, he left? How classy of him. Fucking coward. He could, at the very least, apologize.
Good. You shouldn't. His attitude proves he hasn't gotten any better. You deserve better, darling.
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How would I get there?
He doesn’t think he’s wrong so he won’t apologize. Not yet anyway.
I know I do.
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Meaning the fire escape. When Midge goes down, she'll find an open portal waiting. Crossing it will probably make her a bit dizzy, but hey, it takes her right to Jaskier's room. He's still tucked in bed and Yennefer is sitting on the edge, wearing a robe.
"Get me a hair of his and I'll curse him in the morning," she tells Midge as a wave of her hand makes the portal disappear. After reminding Jaskier of the rules, she leaves the room.
Jaskier just lifts his blankets and sheets, inviting Midge to get in.
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“Boy, you can’t beat travel time like that,” Midge says, sniffing and trying to hold back her tears. She nods at Yennefer, not sure if she really wants to curse Joel.
After the witch leaves, Midge crawls into bed next to Jaskier and lets her tears go, sobbing against his shoulder.
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As soon as she crawls into bed, Jaskier covers them both with the blankets and wraps his arms around her, bringing her as close as possible. He kisses the top of her head and rubs her back as he rocks her, very lowly humming a random tune while letting her cry her heart out. Not a word for now, he thinks she needs to let it all out first.
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It doesn’t even matter at this point. Jaskier’s arms feel too perfect around her and the bed is warm. She doesn’t plan on leaving.
maybe the one that gets the cold is Joel lol
Earlier, he'd been worried about her kids. Now, though? Now he just wants her to get better and fuck everything else. Besides, it's become a normal cold. The main danger is gone. Getting a normal cold won't kill the children.
Jaskier cups her cheek and kisses her forehead. "You can cry as long as you want. Stay as long as you want. You're safe here."
yessss
She moves back slightly and lets out a deep sigh before wiping her eyes.
“He seemed so… judgmental. I know I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but he’s still the father of my children.”
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His voice loses its softness with each word, getting angrier by the second. Jaskier takes a moment to take a deep breath and calm down - she needs comfort, not bitching.
"He's just a bitter arse, angry at himself for losing something wonderful, but taking it out on you. Of course it hurts to be attacked for his mistake. Remember that, Miriam: his mistake. Not yours. You haven't done anything wrong."
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“I told him that you were a musician and an Otherworlder…” She sighs again. “He knows you’re not Jewish.” It will most likely be the biggest problem that her parents will have with Jaskier as well, should they ever learn the true nature of he and Midge’s relationship. “He shouldn’t have a problem with clubs. The idiot is trying to open his own club in Chinatown.”
Midge puts her hand on Jaskier’s chest, stroking gently and feeling the warmth of his body next to hers.
“It’s hard to remember sometimes. Sometimes I still think I must have done something to drive him away.”
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(If this is such a big deal, he doesn't look forward to meeting her parents, then.)
"That's the kind of argument I would've expected from people in my world. Many a person was stuck in unhappy marriages and couldn't escape - cheating was their only choice. But here? You have fucking divorce. I seriously doubt you did anything, considering he wants you back - but even if you had, he could've just asked for divorce. Yet he didn't. He kept using you as his maid, nanny, and cook. And now he behaves like a controlling arse, which proves he's like that in his spare time and not because of your marriage."
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“He thought he could have me and her. He thought I would forgive him when he came back.” She shrugs. “Joel’s really not a bad guy. He just made a huge mistake and has to suffer the consequences. You’re not the type of guy he thinks I should be with, but he doesn’t get to dictate that.”
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He kisses Midge's cheek. "Worry not, Yennefer will teach him to behave."
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“Joel didn’t have much to say about Benjamin, but Benjamin is Jewish, and a doctor. There wasn’t anything he could say. That’s like… the ideal thing a Jewish mother looks for when it comes to a husband for her daughter.” Thus why Rose was so disappointed when Benjamin and Midge’s engagement fizzled.
Midge hums a worried note in her throat. “I don’t want Joel to be hurt,” she warns.
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Benjamin. That name is new. Jaskier remembers she said she's only slept with two people, so he guesses he must've been the second guy. A doctor, of course - a respectable profession. He bets Joel didn't like him either, but couldn't complain because he liked arguments.
"What happened with this 'ideal' Benjamin?" Curiosity is killing him. Part of him wants to jump on the obvious conclusion: Midge doesn't want traditional anymore. But who knows, maybe he dumped her. "We won't hurt him. Just... scare him a little."
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Maybe he’ll have no reason to ever meet her parents, but Midge will deal with the situation if it turns into a disaster. Jaskier has manners, at least.
She sighs. She hasn’t told him about Benjamin has she?
“We were engaged, but it was… too much, too soon. We didn’t want the same things. He wasn’t against my career, but he wanted to have a wife at home and have children. I’ve… done that.” A pause. “It’s not that I wouldn’t have more children if my new husband wanted them, but I want to be able to have my career too.” It seems like an impossible task for a woman to have both.
She glances at Jaskier. “And how are you going to scare him?”
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Engaged?! Hopefully, she's still comfortable on his chest and doesn't see Jaskier's very shocked face. Nothing wrong with wanting to get married again, it's not like he expected Midge to completely give up the idea, he's just surprised by how soon she jumped on it again.
It seems she's aware too - 'too much, too soon'. At least, it doesn't sound like he was a dick to her - it seems he didn't try to change her. So he gets a pass.
"He sounds like a nice bloke. Sorry it didn't work out. I'm glad you're so passionate about your career - although I admit I'm also surprised to hear you'd have more children."
He shrugs, the hand on her back going up to play with her hair. "I'll have to talk to Yennefer. Nightmares are always an option. Or Geralt could pay him a visit. He's good at being intimidating."
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“If my new husband didn’t have a child of his own and he wanted one, I’d try to give that to him.”
Midge huffs a laugh. “Geralt would scare the piss out of him.”
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Ah, she's laughing. Good, it seems the cuddling and chatting truly are helping her feel better. "He's very good at that, too. He's made many a man piss their pants. Literally."
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Her fingers gently stroke over his chest. “He can’t know anything is connected to you or I, otherwise he’ll accuse me of trying to attack him.” Midge doesn’t want to deal with the fallout of any potential pranks.
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But where is the line between changing your mind and surrendering a part of yourself? Jaskier doesn't have the answer, and he doesn't want to sound like he's shitting on her ideas either. She may be feeling better, but still not the best of moments. So he only answers, "Mmh." Geralt has taught him well.
"Aww, but the idea was to get him off your back!" He's pouting - see? A bitch. "You take the fun out of it."
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“It will create more problems,” Midge says. “He’ll tell his parents, who will tell my parents and then suddenly I’m getting called on the carpet and being asked why I put a curse on my ex-husband.”
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"Because he's being a controlling motherfucker," he immediately replies, his voice almost a growl. She's right, though. This place isn't like home, a curse will only get her in trouble. Jaskier sighs. "Fine, I promise we won't mess with him. But next time he tries something, let me know during it. We'll make him piss his pants on the spot."
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She sighs. “I guess that’s embarrassing enough that he won’t tell anyone about it. I just don’t want any negativity coming back on you or your family. You have to be careful with magic here.”
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There's a pause before he buries his face in her hair, nuzzling it. "Fuck, I want to kiss you so badly right now. Do you have any idea how sweet you are?" Another pause while calloused fingers draw random shapes on her back. "None of us is strangers to the public seeing us negatively. But I won't deny that being here is a good chance to start over. At the end of the day, though... we must choose to do what is right, not socially acceptable."
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She leans against him, a smile crossing her lips. “I more often get told that I’m sassy,” she says. “Maybe a little tart.” Pulling back slightly, her eyes rest on his lips. “Do you think you can give me a chaste peck on the lips?” she asks softly.
Reaching up, she runs her fingers through his hair. “Don’t go to jail because of me. I can deal with Joel.”
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Jaskier purrs when she pets his hair, always glad to feel her nails on his scalp. "If I hadn't gone to jail, I wouldn't have met you."
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“That’s true. Are you looking to meet some new partners?” she teases as she continues to rub his scalp. The purring is such a lovely sound to her ears.
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Sure is a question.
Jaskier tenses and the purring pauses. If this had been another lover, he wouldn't mind talking about it. But while Midge has agreed to his terms, she hasn't been exactly interested in the details (which, you know, fair). Last time in the bathroom, she didn't take it well. Add to that what has brought her here tonight...
"Is that something you really want to talk about?"
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Midge moves her head to the crook of his neck. She thought they might talk playfully about it, but she guesses that Jaskier is trying to spare her feelings.
Maybe Joel is right and this isn’t the sort of arrangement she should be in.
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(This should be a red flag - can she handle this arrangement after all? Jaskier ignores that little worry. Tonight she's vulnerable, he decided the other day that she deserves a chance, and--- and, well, this newly discovered crush is making it hard for him to even consider ending things so soon.)
"Apologies, darling. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I'd feel like that any day, but after seeing you cry like that? I wouldn't forgive myself for making it worse." He drops another kiss on her head. "Honestly? I'm the kind of person who makes friends even in the weirdest contexts." Friends, sure, let's call it that.
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Midge is feeling vulnerable though. Her heart feels like it’s on the sleeve of her robe and all she wants is to not mess up this good thing in her life. She hasn’t been this drawn to another person in such a long time.
“I like you a lot, Jaskier. When I’m with you, I’m happy. You… make me feel like I really can make it in this business.”
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He thinks that's a fair middle point - a way to show that he'll trust her to handle it, but only if she chooses to.
Her next words make his heart skip a beat, and once again, he wishes he could kiss her right now. But even if he didn't have a cold, Yennefer has reminded him of the rules, and Cirilla continues to be his priority. If he kissed Midge right now, he wouldn't be able to stop.
"See? An absolute sweetheart." Still hungry for contact, he reaches for her hand and kisses it before nuzzling it. "You honor me by calling me your happiness and your encouragement, darling. I like you a lot, too. You're a spark capable of brightening any day."
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Cuddling with him is so nice. She loves the feeling of his arms around her and his warm body pressed up against hers.
“Thank you, my sweet bard.” Midge feels sleepy from the release of emotion and she murmurs against his chest. “Do you mind if I go to sleep?”
lmk if the timeskip prompt doesn't work and I'll change it
Her question gets her one last kiss on her hand before he lets go. "Goodness, no. We both need to rest. Good night, darling."
Being emotionally exhausted and having a warm body against his is the perfect combination to help him sleep. In fact, he sleeps past breakfast, but luckily his family doesn't interrupt his rest - they were expecting it because of the cold. It's not super late, either, Ciri and Geralt just happen to be early risers.
When he wakes up, he looks at Midge and smiles. It warms his heart to see she's been comfortable enough to fall asleep so deeply after such a long, vulnerable night. It's a lot of trust.
Does her family know she's gone? She did disappear in the middle of the night, after all. He doesn't know what time her household wakes up - she works late at The Wolford, doesn't she? Maybe they're used to her sleeping in.
Part of his mind says he should wake her up, urge her to go home - but Jaskier is selfish and wants to have her a little longer. He also thinks she needs a break from her parents. So he just brings her closer and lets her sleep on his chest while he reaches for his notebook on his night table. He opens the notebook on his lap and writes a few lines as he hums, inspired by all the little jumps his heart has been making since he texted her last night.
all good!
Midge finally stirs against Jaskier, humming in her throat. Waking up next to him feels wonderful and she smiles sleepily up at him. “Good morning…”
She kisses him, forgetting about his cold - and not really caring anyway.
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"Hey, pretty girl. How are you feeling?"
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“Better.” That’s when Midge remembers that he’s sick. Whoops. “How about you?”
She squints her eyes against the sun and stretches. “What time is it?”
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He shrugs at her question. "I'm not sure. After 9 at the very least."
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She looks around, then remembers that she put her phone in her robe pocket before leaving her apartment last night. Midge pulls it out and looks at the time.
“9:24. I’d better call mama.” Midge dials and puts the phone up to her ear. Her parents don’t use these new-fangled devices, so she’s calling the landline. “Hello, mama? Yeah. It’s Midge. No, I’m not calling you from the bedroom. That’s why I’m calling. I’m not in there.”
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Jaskier leaves the bed and puts on his robe, too. He snickers when he hears her talking and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "You're telling her?" he whispers. "We could've put you back in your room!"
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“I’m okay. Everything’s fine. I’m just letting you know so you don’t think I was kidnapped or something. Should I be offended that you think nobody would want to kidnap me?” Jaskier enjoys kidnapping her. “I’ll explain later. I’ll be back by 10:00. Don’t let Esther eat that sugary cereal for breakfast. I couldn’t get her down for a nap yesterday. Love you, mama. Bye.”
She sighs when she hangs up. “I’ll think of something to tell her. Is your family as nosy as mine?”
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"We can get nosy when it comes to Ciri, but that's because we worry about her. But among the three of us?" He shrugs. "We're quite independent. It's normal for us to wake up and find one of us gone. We may ask later about it, but that's more of a 'how was your day' thing." The amusement returns to his expression. "How exactly are you explaining disappearing at 3 a.m. in your robe?"
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“Maybe I won’t explain it. Do I have to? Why do I still have to explain myself to my mother?”
Culture. The fact that they all live together. The fact that Rose has to take over mothering duties in Midge’s absence.
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"Don't look at me, I didn't think you had to - we could've sent you back without issues. But knowing you and what I can see about your relationship with her? You'll end up explaining anyway."
Jaskier's tongue peeks out, an old habit that shows he's thinking hard about something (usually composing). "If I get you a dress, could you tell her you left early in the morning because Susie called you for a sudden meeting? You had breakfast with a club owner or something. For a potential gig."
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“Yeah,” Midge sighs. “That could work. I’m tired of having to explain myself to my parents. I love them, but they don’t need to know everything about my life.”
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"I don't think you have to explain yourself, no. My first instinct is to advise you to tell them exactly that." An awkward pause. "But you also have kids. And I know I'm not the right person to comment on how to handle that."
This adds another reason to why he doesn't want them in the first place.
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“You’re not wrong.” A thought strikes her. “Oh God… I left in the middle of the night. Just… left. Am I a bad mother?”
It’s not the first time she’s had that thought. Obviously if her parents weren’t there, Midge wouldn’t have left her kids all alone, but they could have woken up and been looking for her. What if they discovered that she was gone and they were scared?
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Jaskier rubs her back while thinking of what to say. He just wants her to be free - but he also remembers what it's like to have parents who ignore you. What is even the right answer here?
"We should've... handled it better. Left a note or something. But I don't think your leaving was wrong. You need your space, too, Midge. Being a mother doesn't stop you from being a person. And you were having a breakdown. Do you think you could've changed diapers in that state?"
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Midge looks up at Jaskier, her blue eyes watery. “I’m sorry to bother you with all of this when you’re sick.”
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"Oh, darling, never apologize for seeking a shoulder to cry on. Isn't that what friends are for?" It's weird to use the word friends, but there isn't a better option. He reaches for some tissues from his night table to gently wipe her eyes and nose. "Besides, I got to cuddle you. So I can't say I kidnapped you for completely selfless reasons." He winks. It's hard to say if he's being serious or not.
Then he kisses her forehead. "You still want that dress, correct? Because even if you're telling them the truth, I'm assuming you're planning to go back through the front door."
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She scrunches her nose a little when he wipes her face. “I enjoyed being cuddled. You’re very nice to sleep with.” Midge means that in both senses of the phrase.
“I probably ought to go in the front door, hadn’t I?… though I don’t have a bra. Hopefully whatever dress you have can hide that fact.”
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If Midge looks out the window, she'll see Geralt and Ciri in the backyard doing sword training. A sweaty Geralt in a tanktop may be good for her mood.
Jaskier comes back moments later with a bundle of clothes in one hand and a tray in the other. There's coffee, warm bread, and jam.
"Would you stay for breakfast at least? I don't think you should go to battle with an empty stomach."
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Midge sits on the edge of the bed and watches Geralt spar with Ciri in the yard below. Like the rest of her family, Ciri is beautiful, her hair a golden blonde. It’s the first time Midge has seen her. Sweaty Geralt and his muscled arms are distracting though and she watches him more than the teenage girl.
Oddly, it makes her want Jaskier. He’s not built like Geralt, but he has a very nice body all the same. It’s more than good enough for her.
She grins when he returns with breakfast. “I will. I have some time, assuming I’m going to get home the same way that I got here.”
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His initial idea is to clean his desk, but he notices where Midge is sitting and grins. He leaves the bundles of clothes on the chair before sitting on the bed next to her, the tray between them. Jaskier has brought her coffee like he remembered from their time at the cafe after their sex marathon, but he's having (a very aromatic) tea.
"Enjoying the view, I take it? If you want a 'taste of that'--" He waggles his eyebrows, grin still in place, tone joking. "Geralt made the bread and the jam." He then drinks his tea, amused by his own stupid joke.
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“I know we can’t have sex here. I have a gig later this week though, so I hope you’ll be feeling better by then.”
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"She says she knows, yet she teases. Mischievous lady." He nods while spreading jam on a slice of freshly baked bread. "Count me in. Honestly, I'm feeling better already. Today is recovery day. I'll probably be out and about tomorrow." He tilts his head. "Some musician friends told me about an art jam on the weekend. Would you be interested?"
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She picks up a piece of bread and starts to spread jam on it. “What’s an art jam?” she asks.
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“I never really felt like an artist before I met you. Comedy isn’t seen as an art, you know. Not like painting or ballet.” She shrugs. “I don’t have business cards. Should I have business cards?”
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"How can it NOT be art? You tell stories! You write! You need creativity! You need timing and charm to take control of the stage! You call out society for their crap! You make people think and feel new things! How are all those things not art? How is it any different from a comedic play? Your characters just happen to be your children and your ex."
Does she need cards? He thinks about that for a second. "I'm not sure how things with a manager work. Is Susie the only one allowed to make contacts?"
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“Thank you,” she replies. “I can make contacts if I want to.” She takes a bite of the bread. “Maybe I do need business cards. What would they say? Mrs. Maisel - Comedian? Would yours say Bard?”
That’s kind of amusing to her.
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"Musician. Singer. Composer. Poet. Writer. Chronicler." Suddenly he wrinkles his nose. "I'll have to make a different set for Yennefer's and Geralt's services, won't I? Should I call myself their manager?"
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“You’re multitalented.” Midge takes another sip of coffee. “How do you think they would feel about you considering yourself their manager.”
Odds are, not happy about it.
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The question leaves him thinking for a second. "I don't know. The word is still new to us, we're trying to understand how it works. They want me to do all the talking with clients, promoting, and negotiating. Isn't that what a manager does?"
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“Yes, that is what a manager does. I always think of the manager as the person who is in charge.” A beat. “But I don’t see Susie as being in charge of me.” The two of them make decisions together.
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He can't help glancing at her chest while the conversation continues, so he tries to keep himself busy by eating and drinking. "Yeah, that's the sense I got from what people I said, and why I wasn't precisely on board with the idea of getting one for myself." Another pause. "You're right, you don't let Susie be in charge of you. I'll talk to Yennefer and Geralt, see what they think. Nothing says we can't add our own spin to it, right?"
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“Maybe you’re more of a spokesman,” she says. “Somebody who speaks for the group, but you’re not in charge.”
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Leaving him is going to be difficult today. It’s going to take everything in her to go and be responsible instead of dragging him off to the Goldsteins’ apartment. Jaskier needs to rest though. He’s still not 100% well.
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“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Midge takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I was worried when I hadn’t heard from you… but I also wasn’t sure if you were just… busy.” With other lovers. “Or maybe you didn’t want to talk to me.”
It was a fine line between feeling like she was concerned and wondering if she was bothering him.
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"What Yennefer told you wasn't a lie - during hunts, I may not always be available to answer. But even if I'd actually been busy-" He waggles his eyebrows. "There'd be nothing wrong with you messaging me. I'd just answer it when I see it. I promise you I don't expect you to answer me immediately, either, if you're with the kids. Or any other kind of busy." He'd pout a lot, because he can get annoying when he's attention-hungry. But that's not her fault.
Then he kisses her hand. "I love talking to you, of that you can be sure. Being a hedonistic bitch means I don't keep around anyone or anything I dislike."
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Midge smiles at him referring to himself as a hedonistic bitch. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to me.” Mostly. “I guess you must like me a lot.”
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"You're an absolute sweetheart, and it's contagious," he explains after another sip of his tea. "I joke a lot about corrupting you, but the real miracle is that you've managed to keep so much of the sweet housewife with you after so much time in clubs, the stage, and the harsh reality of the nightlife." He wrinkles his nose. "And you can't tell Geralt that I said that, because usually I'm the one trying to bring sunshine into this family."
But he's also seen the world, and had to learn to navigate what it's made of outside the family estate.
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“It’s not an easy business,” Midge says, resting her head against Jaskier’s shoulder, “but I don’t want it to change who am I. I’d like to think I’m not naive about a lot of things, although you’ve perhaps changed my mind about that. I know showbiz is ruthless. I hope I can survive without becoming ruthless myself.”
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Been there, done that; many harsh lessons were learned. Her comment on naivety makes him wonder if she means in general or regarding sex.
He grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I hope you achieve it, I truly do. It's always been my goal while traveling with Geralt, helping him see the brighter things in life while walking in the dark. And we're hoping we can keep Ciri safe in the sunshine, too, which is why we don't want to go back to our homeworld. But like I told you about morbid humor, there's no denying I've absorbed some of it." Cynicism, he means. He lets his head rest on top of hers. "Although I suppose my own family made me a bit of a bitch, too. That's the other amazing thing about you - you're not snobbish."
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She raises her head to look at Jaskier. “I haven’t met her yet, but I think all of you are doing a wonderful job with Ciri. You make your decisions based on what’s best for her, which is what you should do.
I’m no stranger to morbid humor, but there’s a time and place. I don’t want to live being cynical all the time. My comedy points out hypocrisy in what I hope is a funny way, but a way that still makes people think.”
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Her explanation makes a lot of sense, yet here's when Jaskier's world perception comes in - sadly, not everyone who belongs to a certain group is as accepting of other groups, too. He's met many bigoted elves and racist queers. Hell, the fact that he's here thinking she's very accepting for a religious person says this about himself, too. Is he going to say that aloud? Hell no.
The comment about Ciri makes him smile. "Thank you, darling. It means a lot to hear that." He kisses the top of her head, his body still itching for more affection. "You're right, it's not fun to be cynical all the time. That's usually my philosophy, too - I never meant to argue against it. I simply can't help being amused by how you see me. That's all."
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Midge rests a hand on his chest. “Because I see you as sweet and not as a hedonistic bitch?” She looks at him with obvious fondness in her eyes. How quickly she’s grown attached to him.
There’s a pause and then she speaks again. “Do you have plans for the last weekend of September? I was hoping you’d come to my cousin’s wedding in the Hamptons with me. As my date. A friend.”
Perhaps that’s too much to ask, and she hadn’t exactly meant to ask him now. It has just… come out when she was contemplating how much she liked him. Jaskier is probably the only person who can help her get through this God-awful wedding.
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He's distracted by the way she looks at him and how he's internally dealing with this crush, so her question catches him by surprise, completely throwing him off.
"...what?" His eyes are wide, his body tense. He's touched that she wants him there; he's also absolutely panicking. "You-- you want me around your family? As your-- plus one?" He can't say 'date'. It's fine to tease about going on dates in private, but context suddenly makes it a big word. "What are you even going to tell them?"
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Having Jaskier there will make things so much better.
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"A lot indeed," he replies as he swallows. Fuck. His hand tightens around her. "Let me think about it and I'll get back to you soon? This is... a lot." He already said that, didn't he? But his silver tongue is rather stuck at the moment.
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She kisses his cheek again, then picks up her coffee to finish it. “It’s getting closer to 10:00. What clothing did you bring me?”
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"Oh, right!" He leaves the bed to get the clothes, which he hands to her one by one. "Panties, bra, flats, aaaand-" He unfolds some dark green fabric. "Dress. Yennefer's spell used your hair, so it should fit perfectly. You'll be able to wear it one or two more times before it fades away, if you wish."
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Done with her breakfast, Midge pushes down the straps to her nightgown and lets the satin fall down her naked body. She’s sure this is doing nothing for how much both she and Jaskier want each other, but Midge allows him to admire her for a moment before she reaches for the panties and bra.
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He distracts himself by searching his closet for one of those retail paper bags from his many purchases so she can throw her robe and nightgown in it. When he puts it down on his desk, he notices his Polaroid camera and picks it up.
"Do you think we could--" He then realizes how it sounds for him to ask for a picture when she's still getting dressed. "-once you're done, of course."
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She glances up when he speaks again. While she might not be opposed to doing pictures for him in her underwear, or even topless, now isn’t the time. It’s a relief when he says he wants a picture of her in the dress, though she’s still unsure.
“Really?” she asks as she steps into the dress. “But my hair’s a mess and I have no makeup on.”
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He comes closer to help her with the buttons at the back of her dress, moving a bit more slowly than he should because he wants to savor the brush of his fingers against her skin. "I think you look amazing in everything, including naturally." He kisses her shoulder. "But I understand wanting to look your best. Bathroom is at the end of the corridor. You'll find my brush, my creams, and my eyeliner. I know it's not much, but it's safer than Yennefer's private vanity."
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“You can take a picture of me like this,” Midge tells him. “It’s just for you anyway.”
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While he shakes it, he looks at her with his head tilted. "Should I take the camera to your next gig? I'd love to take one together, too, but no makeup will save my nose now."
Not to mention he seriously needs a shower. When the picture is ready, he shows it to her and kisses her cheek. "As pretty as the real one."
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Midge smiles at the Polaroid. Fortunately, they don’t show a lot of detail, so you can’t really even tell that she isn’t wearing makeup. “Thank you. This dress is beautiful.”
it's a few years off for the pill but fuck the timeline
"Thank you. Enjoy it while it lasts," Yennefer replies as she comes inside.
"Don't you know how to knock?" Jaskier glares at her.
"As if that stopped you before." Yennefer doesn't even look at Jaskier, who pouts at her answer. She approaches Midge and hands her a box with twelve small potion bottles, all filled with a grayish-purple liquid. "Birth control. That pill your doctors sell here--" The disgust is clear in her voice. "-messes with women's hormones. These are safer." She looks at Jaskier then. "What did you call the tiny ones?"
"Oooh, free samples! You finished them?" He runs to peek inside the box. "Most of our clients are men. Husbands think magic and monster matters are too dangerous to be handled by their wives." He rolls his eyes. "We've been looking for a way to reach women."
Yennefer nods. "You can keep one or two, if you wish, but we'd appreciate it if you share them with your friends." Her eyes are rather intense when she says appreciate - she's playing nice, but she thinks Midge owes her after so many portals. "Together with Jaskier's number, of course. So they can order more."
we do what we want
“O-Oh…” she says. “Yes, of course I will.” Giving out an unregulated potion sounds like a way to get the FDA on your case, but Midge knows that women will be very interested in this, even if it’s considered taboo to talk about.
She glances at Jaskier. “Did you put her up to this?”
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Yennefer glares at him before turning to Midge. "Well. Since you wrote to me, asking for--" She hesitates, unsure of how to approach this.
"Frieeeeeendshiiiiiip?" Jaskier teases. Yennefer smacks him on the arm, but he just laughs.
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Midge won’t bring it up right now, but there’s still the risk of disease, especially because she and Jaskier aren’t exclusive. Unfortunately, they may not be done with condoms after all.
She grins at Yennefer. “I know. It feels weird asking for something like that as an adult, but adults need friends too.”
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Yennefer offers Midge the tiniest of smiles - just the smallest turn of the corners of her lips. But she has a reputation to maintain. "You sound like him. No wonder you two get along so well." She turns to Jaskier. "Is everything ready?"
Yennefer raises her hands to open a portal behind Midge's building, near the fire escape. Even if she's entering through the front door this time, she shouldn't show up in the middle of the street.
Jaskier rushes to put Midge's clothes and the box of mini potions inside the paper bag and hands it to Midge as he kisses her cheek. "Let me know how it goes with your family, alright?"
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Midge takes the bag from Jaskier, then gives him a gentle kiss. “I will. I’ll see you on Wednesday night? You can always meet me at the apartment if you don’t want to come to my gig.” She won’t be offended.
“Thank you,” she tells both Jaskier and Yennefer. “If you really want to market something, it should be this thing.” Midge points to the portal. “With how traffic is in the city, people would pay good money to get somewhere in an instant.”
With that, she goes through.
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"I won't miss it for the world."
Marketing portals would be impossible even if they wanted to, but Midge is already gone so Yennefer saves the explanation for when they finally go out on their girls' date.
Jaskier knows he has to give her time, and dealing with family (especially hers!) can't be easy. But he's worried about the consequences of this little escapade. He doesn't regret it, but he'll still feel bad if shit goes down.
Only an hour and a half passes before he texts her. How did it go?
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When Jaskier texts her, she’s walking to the grocery store to pick up a few things. She stops to reply.
Not as badly as I thought it would. They were concerned and weren’t exactly sure why I went to see you. I said I needed some space and that I also wanted to make sure that you were feeling better. They would prefer if I don’t make a habit of it and that I leave a note next time.
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The reply takes a little longer to arrive - Jaskie is in shock. She told them she went to his place? Holy crap. He thought she would tell them she went for a walk to clear her mind or to a bar. It's touching to see her be open about their friendship, and his little crush giggles like a schoolgirl. The rational part of him, however, knows that a woman sneaking into a man's room in the middle of the night is going to bring assumptions. He wonders what her parents think of him now, which makes him more wary about the wedding.
I'd make a joke about them ruining my future kidnapping plans, but honestly - I'm just relieved to hear it went well. I'm not about to regret anything (except the lack of note), but no matter how much they may irritate me, I wouldn't want to get between you and your parents either. I can see how much they mean to you. Are you feeling well? They didn't leave you too shaken, did they?
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It won’t ruin anything. I’m trying to set some boundaries with them. We’re all fine. I’m sure they suspect that we’re together, as they want to meet you, but don’t worry. I’ll hold them off as long as we need to.
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Boundaries are great - I'm proud of you, my dear lady. I'll see you on Wednesday, then?
Not his smoothest exit from a conversation, but the subject is getting on his nerves. This is going down a dangerous path, and yet he can't bring himself to pull out. He rants to Geralt about it, and his friend says that Jaskier knows what the right thing to do is.
He's weak, though. He just can't. Things haven't blown up yet; is it so bad to hold on to hope? They text a few more times during the week, because chatting with her is always delightful, but the subject of the wedding doesn't come up. The elephant in the room is clear, though.
On Wednesday, Jaskier shows up at the club wearing a dark green suit that he's purchased himself, in honor of how much she liked Yennefer's dress. He's brought his lute and his satchel as usual, but no flowers - he doesn't want to give her parents another excuse to talk. This time, the gift is smaller (hideable!) and waiting in his bag.
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They speak a few times during the week, but Midge doesn’t bring up the wedding. She doesn’t want to push him. It seems difficult to find a balance with him lately. Perhaps they’ll talk when she sees him next (between rounds of sex).
The one thing she knows they’re in sync with is sex, and Midge is very happy to see him at her gig on Wednesday. She kills her set, then meets him in the club afterwards. “You look incredible,” she murmurs to him after kissing his cheek. She’s wearing a rich purple dress that unintentionally compliments his suit. “We could have a drink, or we could get out of here…”
Yes, she’s horny for him. No sense in beating around the bush.
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Midge looks gorgeous in that dress, and Jaskier can already feel his own body reacting to her. It's a bit surprising, to be honest. He's always been a horny bastard, but this is strong - and it's not like he hasn't slept with anyone since he recovered, because he has. A week without orgasms had to be taken here of. And yet, here he is, hungry for their spark.
"We're so getting out of here," he replies as he licks his lip. "But first..."
He grabs her wrist and pulls to make her sit on his lap. Then he hands his camera to a waiter for a picture, making sure to tip her well. Once the photo is bright and clear in his hand, he grins at Midge.
"Now yes. Shall we?"
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“We shall,” she replies, taking his arm.
The pick up her coat, hat and purse and leave the club. “Did you take any pictures during my set?”
Susie wasn’t there tonight, so Jaskier didn’t have to worry about her trying to stop him from taking photos.
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As soon as they step out, Jaskier stops a cab. He loves walking and chatting with her, but tonight he's desperate to just lose himself in their fucking and stop thinking so much about where this relationship is going.
He makes sure their legs are brushing when they sit, and he uses the chance to take out his gift for her. "I know flowers are the traditional gift after a performance, but I wanted to do something different." The real reason is that he doesn't want another gift that her parents will notice, but details. He hands her a small box of chocolates and the label says they're filled with liquor.
Most importantly, when Midge opens the box, she'll discover that the chocolates are shaped as boobs, dicks, and tits.
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She’s surprised that he wants to take a cab, but she goes along with it, sitting close to him in the backseat.
“Another gift? What have I done to deserve all this?” Opening the package, she ooohs at him. “Liquor filled chocolates are the best of both worlds. Want one?”
When she opens the box, Midge stares at the shapes of the chocolates inside. “Are those…?” Immediately, she starts cracking up. “Where did you get these?”
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Jaskier casually shrugs when she asks if he wants one, leaving it vague on purpose in case she doesn't want to take the chocolates out in the cab. He grins in excitement when she does open the box, and laughs along, delighted by her reaction.
"There's a store that will make any shape you want for the occasion. Like pacifiers for a baby shower. I take it my lady likes them?" He winks. Obviously she does, but he likes it when she praises him. Sue him.
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Or she’ll have to hide them in her bedroom when she gets home.
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"They're yours to do as you please." He leans in to whisper in her ear, "as am I."
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“I’ve been looking forward to this,” she murmurs to him. “I missed you.”
Not just the sex, but his company. The last time they met like this, it was wonderful. It ended on a sour note, but hopefully that won’t be the case this time.
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"I've missed you, too."
Before they can forget where they are and let things escalate, the cab makes it to their destination, and the driver is clearly relieved to get rid of them. Jaskier puts his arm around Midge's back as they make their way into the building, and as soon as the elevator doors close, his hand drops to squeeze her arse.
"Kissing me so needily on the back of the cab," he whispers against her ear. "My witty lady is in a daring mood tonight."
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She gives a little yelp when Jaskier grabs her ass. “Just showing you how much I missed you, my sweet bard.” Reaching back, she gently cups his penis.
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"Unfair, I was having fun." He isn't coming out. "What if I push that big red button and fuck you here?"
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“I don’t think my claustrophobia would like that very much,” Midge replies before taking his hand. “There’s much more room in the apartment. Remember how big the bed is?”
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Jaskier follows her into the apartment, and as soon as she locks the door, he pushes her against it and captures her mouth in a kiss. It's rough, needy, desperate - his body has missed her curves, his heart has missed their shared spark, his mind wants to get lost in mindless fucking and stop thinking. He only breaks the kiss to drop his satchel on the floor and put down his lute on top of it - the only thing he does slowly and gently, because his instrument is sacred.
Then it's back to kissing her- not, devouring her. His tongue searches for hers and his hungry lips smear her lipstick all over both their mouths. Calloused hands fall on Midge's thighs to raise her, guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist. Now he can grind against her, his cock slowly waking up in his pants.
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Midge doesn’t have too long to contemplate this because soon she’s up against the door with his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers. She kisses him hungrily, then wraps her legs around his waist, her skirt hiking up. No sexy lingerie seduction tonight. Both of them are starving for each other.
“Fuck,” she gasps in between kisses. “I’ve missed your cock, my sweet bard.” She can feel him growing hard against her.
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While kissing her again, he carries her to the living room, dropping both their jackets along the way. Her hat has already fallen, which makes him feel very smug. Without much warning, he drops Midge on the couch and takes off her shoes before doing the same with his own. He takes off his belt and his vest, too, but he leaves his tie on for her to grab if she wishes.
Now that the annoying layers are off, Jaskier climbs between her legs to resume the kiss, the tent in his pants quite obvious. Once again, calloused hands wrap her legs around him so he can grind against her - is she already wet, he wonders. Will it leave a stain on his pants? He doesn't care - no, scratch that, he does care, but only by finding it terribly arousing. Once he's tasted every inch of her mouth, he drops a trail of kisses down her neck until he reaches her cleavage and just buries his face in it.
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Midge does grab at his tie so that she can pull him in for another hungry kiss. A soft moan leaves her mouth at the sensation of grinding against his cock. She’s not drenched yet, but she’s getting there. While Jaskier concentrates on her breasts, Midge reaches down and adjusts herself so that she can get her panties off. Once they’re tossed on the floor, she digs both of her hands into Jaskier’s hair, tugging gently at it.
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"Always so eager for me. Madenning."
He nibbles on a tit before going down, disappearing under her skirt. She's not drenched yet, no, and it's his job to do so. There's no foreplay on her thighs, not this time - they need a good orgasm to burn this need off. Jaskier wraps her legs around his head and neck before diving in, taking her into his mouth with the same desperation he used to kiss her.
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Midge lets out a moan when Jaskier presses his mouth against her cunt. She spreads her thighs eagerly and pulls up her dress so that she can watch him between her legs. Just seeing him down there makes the honey start to pool between her folds. Her fingers stay tangled in his hair, gently guiding his tongue where she wants it.
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Her moans are such beautiful music, and Jaskier is eager for more of them to caress his ears. He wraps his arms around her legs, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth closes around her clit. He sucks with the thirst of a man in the desert, letting his tongue flick it and lick it with gusto. The act itself is incredibly arousing for him, too, and his hips start to thrust into the couch.
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Midge’s eyes flutter closed for a second as she enjoys the sensation of his mouth. Her hips rock gently against his face, wanting more. After going without for so long, it won’t take Jaskier long to make her come.
“Your tongue is so good…” She gasps and moans. “That’s it… get me dripping wet for you.”
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Jaskier sits on his heels and guides Midge's hands to the front of his pants. "Want to do the honors, darling?"
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Pants open, Midge pushes them down along with his underwear. “I took the potion,” she tells him breathlessly. Are they safe without a condom? Technically, they’ve already fucked without a condom.
Jaskier’s hard cock springs up and Midge wraps her fingers around it, stroking him to further hardness.
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Before he can say more, Midge wraps her lovely fingers around his throbbing cock, and Jaskier lets out a very needy moan. He holds on to the back of the couch and thrusts into her hand, desperate for more.
"Midge... I want you..."
Her movements slow down when he becomes fully hard, and he sees that as his sign to continue. Jaskier captures her mouth in a needy kiss as he lowers his body on top of hers. His hand guides his aching cock to her entrance and he penetrates her slowly, keeping an eye out for any discomfort - he may've eaten her out, but this is still round one and they didn't do much foreplay. He mumbles a whimpering fuck under his breath, driven crazy by how tight and wet she's around him. Without the condom or the bathtub, he's feeling her all, and gods, he should've asked Yennefer for that damn potion sooner.
Once he's sure she's fine, all bets are off. It's clear they're both desperate for each other and they need to get it out of their system. Jaskier makes her wrap her legs around him for easier access and starts thrusting into her hard, panting and moaning her name right into her ear. She's always felt amazing, but without a condom, it's even better.
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At his urging, her legs move easily up over his hips. Midge arches her back, doing her best to meet each of his thrusts. It’s intense, and desperate, and just what she needs. Her hands dig into his hair.
“Jaskier…”
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"Midge..." he moans back with his mouth still against her ear, his mouth clumsily trying to kiss the closest skin available. "Fuck, you're so good and wet for me. And raw. It's so fucking good. You're a dream, darling."
His free hand reaches between them, struggling to move off the skirt of her dress for a second before finally finding her clit to rub with the same desperation.
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All Midge can really do in this position is hold on for dear life, but sometimes just being fucked into a mattress or couch is perfect. It’s all she needs right now, to feel his weight on top of her and his hard cock thrusting inside of her. Midge gives another loud moan when she feels his fingers in her clit.
“Fuck…” She trails off, lost in the pleasure that’s about to envelop her body.
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It's a miracle he can form any kind of sentence right now, honestly. Jaskier continues to fuck Midge hard and fast, letting his brain get lost in the pleasure. There's no thinking anymore, just repeating Midge and fuck among moans over and over. The fabrics of their clothes add extra friction and feel fantastic on their sweating skin. He buries his face in her breasts, internally cursing himself for not having lowered her cleavage a little when he had the chance. It doesn't matter, the parts of her tits that are exposed are plenty for him to suck and nibble, hoping to leave a hickey.
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With her moans echoing off of the walls, Midge comes beneath him, her body trembling in ecstasy. A wave of satisfaction flows through her, a longing finally fulfilled after what felt like forever.
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Jaskier collapses on top of Midge when he's done, his mind floating on cloud nine while he catches his breath. It takes him a moment or two to return to reality, and he grins against her neck.
"Not moving," he teases as he reaches for her hand to squeeze it. "I like it here."
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Jaskier looks like he’s in absolute bliss and Midge loves being the one to put that look on his face. She leans her head back against one of the couch cushions and giggles. “I like having you here.” Her legs are still locked around his body and she kisses his temple as her free hand smooths back his hair.
“That was wonderful, my sweet bard.”
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"Mmh, yeah, it was." He kisses her cheek before dropping his head on her shoulder again. "Maybe we should just go to sleep like this. With my arse exposed in the air and my leaking cock inside you. Obviously it's outstanding comfort." He's joking.
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Maybe he won’t want to, but Jaskier doesn’t strike her as the type to be embarrassed by anything sexual. By all accounts, he’ll be eager to show her and she’ll be eager to watch.
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"My, my, it appears that my teasing became a prediction - you are quite daring tonight." Still grinning in a way that would make Cheshire proud, Jaskier finally pulls out, hissing at the sensitivity. But he's doing this for a reason: he wraps his arms around her and turns both their bodies on the sides so they can cuddle properly. "I'm so proud of you right now. I'm going to give you a show that you'll never forget."
Let's ignore the fact that their clothes are falling on the wet spots now.
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After crawling into his arms, she gives him a tender kiss. “Just rest a moment. Then we can take all our clothes off and move to the bed where we’ll have more room.”
Midge lets out a contented sigh. “I missed this so much.”
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He happily returns the kiss, and then kisses the top of her head when she lets out that cute little sigh. It perfectly matches what he feels, too: just relaxed and content.
"Mm-mmh. It was very frustrating not to be able to kiss you for every cute thing you said when you were at home." His hand rubs her back. "Didn't you get some alone time with your hands while I was away?"
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“Oh, you want to hear about how I touched myself when I was alone?” she asks saucily. “You want a detailed description?”
One of her hands strokes down his chest.
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"You're so cute when you blush," he replies before kissing both her cheeks. "I asked because I love hearing how far you've come since I started to push you into exploring your sexuality more. But I admit-" He licks his lips on purpose. "I'd love to hear the details when my cock is ready to enjoy them."
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“So you want me to wait to tell you until when you’re showing me how you fuck yourself with your fingers?”
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She's still worried about what her parents will think, he knows. But he's not about to mention themin the middle of the post-coital cuddling.
Her idea makes him grin. "Oh yes, that does sound perfect. You'll tell me how you touched yourself, and I'll try to follow."
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Idly, she strokes his chest. Laying here in the afterglow is almost as nice as the sex. Almost.
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"I'm not saying you're keeping things from me, or that you're lying, or wearing a metaphorical mask, none of that crap," he explains while reaching for her hand, fondly rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "I think that you're still discovering yourself. I think that the divorce still hasn't fully sunk in. I think you still haven't fully embraced the freedom you've acquired."
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The type of relationship that she and Jaskier are having would have seemed impossible a year ago. Midge wouldn’t have thought she would be interested. She’s let go of the idea that sex needs to take place in a relationship with someone you love.
Although perhaps she ought not examine her budding feelings for Jaskier too closely.
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“Why?” She asks. “I mean, why me in particular? There are a lot of talented people in New York.”
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"You're kind," he finally decides on. "We've discussed this a little, but the fact that you continue to hold on to that kindness while swimming in the waters of the stage life is fucking important."
Jaskier isn't the kind to blush. He's fucking shameless. But tonight, for the first time, he blushes just a bit for Midge. "And I can't deny you remind me of myself."
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His second reason surprises her though. So does the blush. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen him blush. Midge furrows her brow and looks at him curiously. “How so?”
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"You were born into a family that expected you to play a pre-shaped role, and a society that tried to shackled you to it." Like he was. "It prides me to see you break those shackles." Like he's always tried to do. "I don't wish betrayal and pain from a loved one on anyone. But it terrifies me to think what would've happened to the real Miriam if Joel had never cheated." The same way he's afraid of what would've happened to his life if he hadn't met Geralt.
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“I understand what you mean,” Midge replies, “but I wasn’t unhappy with Joel. I think I would have found ways to be content as a housewife and mother.”
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"I understand what you mean, too. But in my experience? You would've resented it in the long run." A sigh. It's not a nice thing to say, but they're having a serious conversation, so he isn't about to sugar-coat it. "Just a few days ago, you shared your frustration about your parents being too nosy. Remember that feeling clawing at your chest. Now picture it growing bigger and hotter without no outlet for years."
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“This isn’t how I thought my life would go.”
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“I don’t mean anything by that,” Midge adds quickly. “I’m just saying… in general.”
She didn’t want him to think that comment was aimed at him, trying to make him feel bad or anything like that.
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"Your love life isn't over just because of the divorce, darling. You'll find someone sooner or later; you must give it time. You're young! Forget about what they've taught you, you aren't obliged to find the love of your life at twenty-two. Do you have any idea of the huge number of people you'll meet on your tours?" His tone becomes teasing. "Before you know it, you'll have to choose between that humble, cute shepherd from the farm and the handsome, headstrong businessman from the city."
And when she does, he'll be happy for her and he'll sing at her wedding. Because that's what she deserves - a man who can provide the married life she still wants.
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She chuckles softly at his description of the two men she’d be torn between. What if who she wants is a handsome, sassy bard? It worries her, but not enough to stop what they’re doing.
“And you’re going to do this forever?” Midge asks. “You never want to settle down?”
She’s pretty sure she knows the answer to that.
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"I like not knowing what will happen next. I like not knowing what the next kiss will taste like. I like not knowing what kind of song I will dance to in the next club." He drags a hand down his face. "I used to like seeing my career develop a step at a time. But here, it makes me feel like it's in a limbo."
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Midge continues stroking his soft hair. She knows that the progress of his career here has been frustrating for him. Many people work for years and get nowhere.
“Even if I’m technically in the entertainment industry, I don’t think I’m the best person to give out advice about it.”
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His expression softens and he cups her cheek to kiss her sweetly. "I wasn't expecting you to. Sorry for souring the mood. My plan was to have a naughty night with more orgasms and less thinking, not to have an existential crisis."
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“You haven’t soured the mood at all. We always end up talking about stuff like this between orgasms.”
Midge likes talking with him as much as she enjoys the orgasms. Almost as much.
“How’s your cock doing?”
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He's definitely not the loner type - he needs people and hates loneliness. But he's fine with getting his orgasms at one place and his emotional affection at home.
Her question makes him grin, and after quickly pecking her lips, he jumps off the couch. Turning around, he shakes off his hips, letting his pants and underwear fall off to present her arse to her. After toeing his socks off, he takes off his tie and throws it at her.
The buttons of his shirt are undone very slowly, and he leaves it on just as part of the tease. Then he goes to the door to pick up his satchel and lute, making sure to fully bend his body over to leave his perky arse up in the air, shaking it a bit before coming back.
Jaskier puts down his things on the reading chair and searches his satchel for a small jar of vaseline, which has clearly been used before. He lightly dips a finger in it and boops Midge's nose, leaving a creamy dot.
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Midge scrunches her nose when she’s booped, then reaches up to wipe the Vaseline off. “I guess your cock is ready,” she says. “Where do you want to put on this show for me, my darling?”
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After winking, he grabs the back of Midge's head and captures her mouth in a long, deep kiss that gets his body tingling again. When he breaks it, he doesn't go too far - he rests his forehead against Midge's with a glint in his eyes.
"That depends on how much you want to see," he explains in a husky voice. "Do you want me to lie down or get on my fours, have a full view of my arse getting pounded? Then we shall go to bed. Or..." He climbs on the couch then, putting a knee on each side of her legs and letting his cock brush her wonderful tits. "Do you want me right here on your lap so you can see my getting fucked face up close?"
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Midge returns the kiss, opening her mouth against his as he fingers stroke down over his bare chest.
“I’m thinking… you on your back on the bed with your legs spread, me on my stomach with my head between your legs so that I can watch your fingers move and stroke your cock at the same time.” He might even get her mouth, if he’s a good boy. “Does that work?”
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"Fuck yes," he replies before taking her hand so he can drag her to the bedroom. On the way, he embraces her from behind and drops kisses on her neck, his hands making sure to squeeze her breasts before removing the bra.
In the bedroom, he takes off his shirt and puts it on her shoulders before crawling onto the bed. He does so slowly, shaking his arse a little more before lying down. Jaskier never stops looking at her as he opens his legs wide in a silent invitation.
"It's easier and more enjoyable when I'm aroused," he explains as he takes some vaseline and starts by stroking his cock, prompting it to wake up. "So maybe you can share some inspiration by telling me about your adventures with your hand while I was away."
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“Now that you’ve showed me that spot inside me, I always try to touch it whenever I touch myself. I have to spread my legs wide and arch my back and push my fingers deep inside to get to it.”
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When she starts talking, Jaskier gets some more vaseline on his fingers and reaches down to start massaging his entrance. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, as if following her 'instructions' - which is also why he arches his back, giving her a full display of two fingers going in as Jaskier's moan echoes in the room. Sadly, he can't keep this position for long, but he does make sure to keep his arse up for a few seconds so she can see him open and stretched before his body falls back on the mattress.
"Yesss..." he hisses under his breath as his fingers start massaging his walls. His eyes are stuck on Midge. "You're a quick learner - I'm proud of you. Tell me more. How many fingers did you use? How fast did you thrust?"
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“Just two. That’s the easiest and feels the best. I don’t thrust hard. I like to go slowly and stroke that spot with one hand while I rub my clit with the other. I like to work myself up.
Are you going to find that spot inside you?”
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His fingers start thrusting slowly, working himself up just like she describes. His whole body feels hot, and his moans get louder when he realizes that looking at Midge between his legs means he can pretend she's the one fingering him. He wonders if she'd do it for him one day.
The mention of his spot makes him chuckle. "Already? What happened to working myself up?" He's teasing. Suddenly, his fingers come out, which makes him groan in both pleasure and frustration. "My lady will have to forgive me for breaking one of her instructions," he says while getting more vaseline. "But I like feeling full."
This time, three fingers go right in, and Jaskier's whole body arches, heels digging into the mattress. He then starts thrusting, and he still keeps it slow to match her story, but he does look for that spot like she asked. The loud fuck that escapes his lip and the way his cock throbs in her hand should be proof of it.
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“Did you find it? You should play with it… tease it.”
Leaning forward, Midge licks a stripe up Jaskier’s cock. Unfortunately, Vaseline doesn’t taste great, so he won’t be getting all of her mouth this time.
“Watching you do this is making me so wet, Jaskier. My cunt is soaked for you. Will you be a good boy and lap it up when you’re done?”
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(He's so proud, too!)
(And she called him darling. His heart definitely skips a beat at that.)
He nods at her question as he inserts his fingers as deeply as possible, leaving them just to continue to tease his magical spot, his whole body shivering and sweating more by the second. Her wonderful tongue transforms his moans into the neediest of whimpers - that whimper only gets worse when she calls him a good boy.
The fact that she gets turned on by him fingering himself is incredibly erotic, greatly intensified by how she continues to direct the scene, talking about herself so naughtily and without shame (he really needs to tell her how proud he is later).
His fingers pause as he gets an idea, but he needs to catch his breath before speaking. "We don't have to wait," he says with a grin. "You can ride my face, or lie on top of me with your head between my legs. It would still give you a good view. Unless you want to look at my orgasming face, too. Then you can stay there and mayhaps grab my wrist to direct my thrusting." A wink. "My lady is in charge. The choice is yours."
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Jaskier’s suggestion is too good to pass up on. She releases his cock and turns herself around on the bed, hoping that she doesn’t look like an idiot doing this. After getting up on all fours, Midge slowly backs up until Jaskier’s face is between her legs. She has to arch her back a little and lean down on the bed, but she’s able to position her cunt at his mouth.
“What a naughty suggestion, my sweet bard. Can you see how I’m dripping for you?”
Midge rests her head on one of Jaskier’s thighs, then grips his cock again, her strokes firmer this time.
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"Absolute drenched," he manages to say between moans. He's getting overwhelmed with sensations, after all: her hand on his cock, his own fingers up his arse, and now her cunt on his face. He can even smell her arousal, which helps him feel consumed by her. "Always so good and eager for me."
Jaskier buries his face in Midge's cunt, licking between her folds with gusto as his free arm wraps around one of her thighs to keep her in place. He savors the amazing taste of her fluids, making sure to clean them all before inserting his tongue into her entrance. That's when his fingers start thrusting again, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it thrusts too. Jaskier moans against her, sending vibrations right into her cunt.
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“Always,” she confirms. “And you always lick me up like the good boy that you are.” He’d seemed to really like it when she called him that earlier. She gets off on being called a good girl too.
Midge squeals when he grabs her to him and starts to lap at her cunt, rocking her hips gently back against his face.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re so good at that. You pamper me so well. When I was alone, I kept teasing myself, bringing myself almost to orgasm but then waiting, wanting it to be so good.”
She releases his cock and lets her thumb tease the head, her fingers brushing against his now throbbing shaft.
“I would pretend it was you every time, Jaskier.”
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His movements start getting a bit clumsy as he begins to lose control, every word leaving her lips plus the combination of her fingers and his on his sensitive areas driving him absolutely crazy. His hand picks up speed as he fucks himself harder, and with his face covered by her cunt it's even easier to pretend those are her fingers.
She edged herself, he realizes, like he did for her last time. Then waiting, huh? He wants to follow her game, he really does, but it's just too much. Especially when Midge teases his head and says she pretended it was him - that's enough to send him over the edge.
Jaskier feels his walls tightening around his fingers as he comes all over her hand, with a few drops probably falling on her face too. It's one hell of an intensive orgasm and his whole body arches once more, perfect ecstasy hitting every single nerve of his body. He makes sure to keep stroking his spot, making the orgasm last as long as possible. His moan echoes in the room first, but his arm moves from her thigh to her waist - he wants to keep her cunt on his face so she can feel every second of it.
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She wipes most of the cum on her hand on his stomach before wiping at her face. She licks the remnants off of her hand.
“Wonderful, my darling. You came so much. Is it my turn?” Midge whimpers, her hips insistent against his face. “I’ve been such a good girl, haven’t I?”
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Her voice brings her back to reality, and he can't help but chuckle at the way her hips are asking for more. Always so eager for him - an observation he makes all the fucking time, but can you blame him? He just loves it so much.
"Oh yes," he replies as the arm around her waist brings her as close as possible to his face. The smell of her arousal is intoxicating. "You've been such a good girl for me, Midge." She's so wet that it's easy for him to insert two fingers into her cunt, curling them to find that spot on her. "Do you know how amazing it is when you're in charge? I love seeing you take control of your sexuality. There's something so fucking erotic about a woman telling me what she wants, what to do. I want you to command me like you command the stage."
His fingers then start thrusting. "Feel free to sit up if you wish, darling." And with that his mouth closes around her clit, sucking on it like a starving man while his fingers continue to thrust.
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“Yes… please don’t stop.” Her thighs tremble and she doesn’t think she can sit up. Staying just like this is absolutely perfect. Her pleasure grows exponentially until she can feel herself just on the edge of orgasm.
“Jaskier!”
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Even when she reaches ecstasy, he never stops moving, riding her through it to make it last and because he loves tasting her orgasm with all his senses.
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With a loud moan, the orgasm slams into her like a tidal wave. The walls of her cunt spasm around his fingers as her whole body succumbs to ecstasy. It’s over too soon and she collapses on top of him, her head still on his thigh as she tries to catch her breath.
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"Enjoyed the show, I take it?"
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Carefully, she pushes herself back up on her hands and knees so that she can turn around. Midge gives him a long, sensual kiss before laying her head on his shoulder. Her fingers stroke his chest, playing with his necklace.
“Something about enjoying seeing me take control of my sexuality?”
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He waits patiently while she moves and meets her kiss with a big smile. His arms don't hesitate to wrap around her, bringing her close for the mandatory cuddle. His nose buries in her hair to nuzzle it, and he chuckles at her comment.
"Oh yes, you were fantastic, darling. Taking control, getting what you want, having your man caught under your metaphorical heels. I'm so proud of you, darling. And turned on, but proud sounds deeper."
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“I’m glad you liked it. I didn’t see it so much as being in charge. It felt more like giving you instructions.” Midge gives him another kiss. “I didn’t know how I’d feel watching you do that, but it was… really arousing. You liked it when I called you a good boy, didn’t you?”
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He's happy to kiss her again, and when he notices that she's blushing, he kisses her cheek too. How can she be so sexy one second, and the cutest thing the next? "I'm glad you like it too. It's uncommon for women to interact with that side of me. They see it as less manly." He chuckles. "And you liked it when I called you a good girl. We're nothing but stage hoggers hungry for approval."
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“I could tell that it felt good and ultimately that’s what this is about. I want to make you feel good.”
Her kiss is sweet this time, with a lot of emotion behind it. Having these sort of intimate moments only make her budding feelings for him swell.
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And boy, does he have a lot of that. He's been with many lovers who enjoyed compliments in the form of poetry, but they often got tired of it after a while.
Her comment makes his heart swell, and Jaskier can't stop looking at her with adoration in his eyes. That's indeed what sex is about - making the other person feel good, and finding your own pleasure in that act. ...well, there's also feelings, and the fact that his crush is shaking with glee thanks to her words and this amazing kiss, but he is not supposed to be thinking about that tonight. That's what he tells himself, but he returns the kiss with as much emotion anyway.
He rests his forehead against hers when they pull apart. "You're right, that's what this is about. I love making you feel good, too. So never hesitate to ask me for things to try. Because that just now? Absolutely marvellous."
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Midge grins and rubs her nose against his. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something before the night is over. You bring out my creative side, Jaskier.” Reaching down, she grabs at his ass. “You have a very cute butt. Watching your fingers go inside was so erotic.”
(poem author unknown)
That compliment takes him by surprise, and he beams. "Inspiring an artist's creativity is an incredible honor." He gasps when she grabs her ass, not expecting it either - again, she's being very daring tonight, and he loves it. The comment makes him laugh. "That's what years of walking get you." A wink. "Having you between my legs was amazing because I was pretending they were your fingers down there. Which is on the table if you ever want to try."
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“I meant creativity in the bedroom, but now that I think about it, you’ve inspired my comedy as well.” She’s added in some jokes about the guy she’s ‘seeing’ and the sex they have. The blush returns to her cheeks when he suggests that she could finger him. “I’m not saying no…” she tells him, “because I like making you feel good. But maybe we can work up to that.”
Midge isn’t sure if she’s brave enough yet.
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"Even if you'd meant only sexual creativity, I would've still been honored. I did notice certain new jokes in your act tonight, though. It almost made me hate the anonymity; you're doing wonders for my reputation." He smiles softly at her response, still finding her blushing adorable. "That's perfectly fine. We have all the time in the world."
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Midge snuggles in close, enjoying cuddling with him as always. She’s so glad that he likes it too.
“Should I call you by name on stage? Jaskier of Oxenfurt has been blowing my mind with orgasms?”
He would probably love that.
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Cuddling is indeed great, and Jaskier's hand draws random shapes on her back while enjoying the closeness. Her being so petite makes her the perfect fit against his body.
That question makes him laugh pretty hard. "I wouldn't mind that at all." How could he? He loves attention. "Just make sure it doesn't trigger a series of events that ends with your father stabbing me."
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A snort of laughter is given at that response. “He won’t stab you. As much as I’m sure you’d like the free promotion, I don’t name names onstage. It’s easier for listeners to imagine themselves in the position if there’s no name attached.”
People come to her shows for escapism, but they also have to be able to relate to her.
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He nods along at the explanation - it does make lots of sense, but he can't help wondering if that decision was also influenced by having to keep face with her family and social circle. "So you want your crowd to imagine themselves giving you those amazing orgasms? I see how it is." His tone is teasing. "Your father would totally stab me. Or cut my cock off at the very least."
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She laughs again. “No, I want to imagine that they’re getting the orgasms. Living vicariously through me, though honestly I’m not sure if they want my life.”
Midge takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Papa wouldn’t do either of those things. People aren’t like that here. If he cut off your cock, he’d go to prison. And I’d be really pissed.”
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What she says leaves him thinking for a moment. He squeezes her hand and rubs her knuckles with his thumb while deciding how to respond to that.
"...maybe your papa is not. I do admit I was going for a bit of hyperbole, although I do think he wouldn't like me very much." Thankfully, it doesn't matter, since they aren't in a relationship. Right? "But even if my world was worse, please do remember - people can be like that here. It's why Elftown and Rainbow Road exist. They're safe spaces."
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Midge exhales slowly. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about the inevitable meeting that will occur if Jaskier comes to the wedding with her.
“You may be able to charm him, but I think the biggest issue my parents will have with you is that you’re not Jewish.”
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Right there, in the corner of the room, an elephant called Family Wedding stares at them.
"Of fucking course."
He doesn't say more. He should, because the silence is getting awkward. And Jaskier hates silence. Usually, he's a pro at filling them, but he still remembers their first lunch together, how she said that the only thing she asked for was respect. And honestly? Right now, he can't think of a single honest thing to say that won't start a fire. If the tension of the Wedding™ wasn't hanging between them, maybe he could've sailed through this more easily - it's like he survived court for years, after all. But he doesn't want his relationship with a beloved friend (a crush) to be like that.
"I'm getting hungry," he suddenly announces as he sits up, using the sheets to clean off the cum on his stomach. "We did let our genitals decide over our stomachs when we left the club, huh?" He's trying to joke, but he's obviously tense. "Something I love about this world is this whole take-out deal. Do you think there are flyers in the kitchen?"
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Midge doesn’t want to start a fight with him, but she doesn’t want to sweep this under the rug either.
“My parents would have no problem with us being friends, but I think they’ll be perceptive enough to know it’s more than that.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I choose who I want to sleep with. It’s not… this isn’t a relationship. It’s not as if we’re getting married.”
She stares at the bedsheets in silence for a moment. “They would like you if they knew you, Jaskier. If they saw how happy I am around you,” Midge continues quietly. “Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter to me.”
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Hearing her say how happy I am around you makes his heart skip a beat, the big traitor. Jaskier tries to concentrate on the other sentence before he does something stupid out of affection. She's right, they aren't in a relationship, so it shouldn't matter. And if this conversation had come up before her invitation, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but it doesn't hit the same when the elephant keeps staring at them.
He also notices that she thinks he's upset about her parents liking him, when what bothers him is the why. But like he already thought, there's no bringing up that topic without starting a fire.
Religion or wedding? Are those two truly his only choices?
Fuck.
"You think they'll be perceptive enough to tell, yet you still want me to be your plus one?"
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She gives a shuddering sigh, tears forming in her eyes.
“I don’t want to be the pathetic divorcee, not at this wedding of all weddings. Leah’s family has more money than ours and she never lets us forget it. I don’t want to go alone. I thought that maybe since it’s out in the Hamptons we could go to the beach the day before. We’d be in a hotel. We could sneak into each other’s rooms. You could charm everyone there. We could say we’ve been seeing each other, which isn’t technically a lie. I wouldn’t introduce you as my boyfriend.”
Midge pulls a tissue from the box on the bedside table and dabs at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to guilt you into it and I know it’s a big ask. You don’t have to answer me about it yet.”
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"I would never--" He freezes when he sees crying. "Fuck."
He doesn't stop to think, he just moves - he wraps a sheet around her body before dragging her onto his lap, hugging her tightly and rubbing her back as he rocks her. Everything she says does make sense, and his first instinct is to want to protect her from that awful fucking life, because he got to escape it, but she didn't.
Mainly, however, he feels like shit for making her cry. He's about to say that yes, he'll go with her, just to see her smile again. But when he's about to talk, she adds the guilting him line and Jaskier sighs. Any answer that gives right now will be 'tarnished' by this conversation, and he doesn't want her to think he's doing it out of pity - although that first thought was an emotional reaction, so she wouldn't be too wrong.
And isn't the fact that they're both having such emotional reactions in the first place another thing he needs to consider? This will be another week of thinking, won't it? Geralt will be reminding him to end it again, but how can he do that when she needs him so much? (Which is even more ironic, because that need may be pushing the boundaries they decided on.)
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, darling. Please don't feel bad, this is all on me." Well, this bit is. He does wonder if she can keep on handling their agreement, but he doesn't mention it - he tells himself it's not the time, but in reality, it's because he's afraid of the answer. "There's nothing wrong with your invitation, and I've never felt pressured by your questions. I promise. I was just--" Being a fucking bitch, like he's already warned her. "--trying to avoid the subject of religion. Somehow I made it worse. But it isn't your fault, I swear. I'm sorry I made you cry." He kisses the top of her head. "I'll have an answer by the end of next week, does that work?"
Usually, he doesn't like putting deadlines on feelings, but it'll force him to consider things seriously instead of ignoring the subject more.
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“It’s going to be a Jewish wedding, so that will be part of it too,” she says. “They might want you to wear a yarmulke at the temple, which is a sort of hat, but I can probably get you out of that. Nothing will be expected of you, I promise.” Picking her head up to look into his eyes, Midge brushes her fingers through his hair. “The end of next week is fine.”
Things aren’t just casual between them, whether Jaskier wants to admit it to himself or not. Both of them feel strongly about each other. They talk all the time. They go to each other’s gigs. The sex is incredible. It’s not a relationship, because they don’t want it to be, but it’s more than friends with benefits.
Midge is glad to have more, but she doesn’t know if Jaskier feels the same way.
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"I didn't mean the wedding. I can sit through a ceremony, that's not a big deal. I meant your parents not approving of me because of religious reasons. I tried to dance around that, but ended up tripping right into the wedding anyway." He kisses her wrist when her hand comes close to his face. "Although I suppose they're connected. It's fine if your parents don't like me - they aren't the first, they won't be the last. But it's not the same thing thinking about that in an abstract way, than having to consider it to make my choice. It adds... extra weight, if you know what I mean."
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Midge kisses him softly.
“We don’t have to define what we are to them or to anyone. We’re friends who enjoy each other’s company and make each other happy. That’s it.”
Any pushing by her parents won’t be done in Jaskier’s presence, and she can handle them. She just wants his presence and his support at fucking Leah’s fucking wedding.
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"...I'll keep that in mind." It's an honest answer. Meeting them in private means he can't lose them by mingling at a party, but Midge has a point: it would get every needed conversation out of the way. It wouldn't ruin the wedding.
It's hard to think when she's kissing him.
"You are a beloved friend of mine, Miriam Maisel. I hope you know that." He agrees they don't have to define this, but he wants her to know she can count on him, regardless of the wedding issue. "Even if tomorrow you choose to get married to that humble, cute shepherd from the farm, I'll still enjoy your platonic company."
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She gives a soft laugh. “Where on Earth would I ever meet someone like that?” She asks.
In her heart, Midge knows that Jaskier is the only person she wants to be with right now. No shepherds or big city businessmen are going to change that for her, at least not any time soon.
“Are you really hungry? You want to order some take out?”
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"You have such a pretty smile," he says before capturing her mouth in a kiss. It's a sweet one, just trying to be there for her.
"...actually, I could do with some food right now. We did left the club in a hurry. And we need to regain energy."
He winks before gently putting her down to leave the bed. Without warning or asking for permission, he opens the closet and finds two robes. Grinning, he throws one at Midge.
"We can wash them with the sheets in the morning. Your friends don't need to know."
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Wearing the robes is probably fine. Midge picks up the one that Jaskier tosses on the bed.
“They’re monogrammed,” she says, showing him where the name ‘Irv’ is stitched over the left breast. “That one’s probably going to be small on you.” He’s got Muriel’s.
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Jaskier puts his hands on his hips and turns around rather coquettishly, looking over his shoulder to wink at Midge. "Mrs Maisel, the boytoy you ordered is available now."
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She cracks up when he turns around and winks at her. If he bent over, his whole ass would be exposed. “They got my order exactly right,” Midge says as she stands up. She playfully grabs his ass, then closes and belts the large robe. “Come on, Muriel.”
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The name makes him wrinkle his nose. "Ugh, don't make me regret putting it on."
He follows her to the kitchen, where they're lucky to find a few take-out flyers. They're short and to the point, so there's a lot that Jaskier doesn't get. "Please tell me at least one of these has good wine."
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“What about pizza and wine?” she asks.
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Jaskier lets Midge make the order since she understands the options better than he does. While he waits, he takes a look around the kitchen. There are many gadgets he doesn't recognize, and a few that his family has already bought. It seems they still have much to learn. The fridge is empty and unplugged, which makes sense if the apartment is empty most of the time.
When he peeks into a drawer, he chuckles and speaks up when Midge hangs up. "I must say, it's a bit worrying that housewives have as many knives as Geralt."
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After putting the knife down, Midge looks in the cabinet and finds two wine glasses. She sets them on the small table in the kitchen.
“Do you have any cash, by the way? I might need some extra to tip the delivery boy.”
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Jaskier nods at her question and goes back to the living room to get his satchel. He also uses the chance to pick up their clothes and leave them on the reading chair. Wallet in hand, he decides to look around the apartment while waiting for the food, since last time they were too focused on the fucking to notice anything else.
When he enters the studio, Midge will hear him gasp and curse.
"Motherfucker-- MIDGE! Why didn't you tell me about this?!"
The sound that follows is keys being pressed. Someone has found a piano.
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While Jaskier goes in search of his wallet, Midge finishes setting the table, putting out plates, napkins and some silverware just in case. She finds a corkscrew in a drawer and puts that on the table too. Then Jaskier is hollering for her and she hears the plink of a piano.
“I didn’t know it was here,” Midge says as she enters the room. “I’ve never actually been in this room.”
They’ve been a bit distracted both times they’ve come here.
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He opens his eyes as he turns to look at Midge, and a grin appears. "I'm so fucking you on top of this."
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“Scootch over,” Midge says, sliding Jaskier down on the piano bench. “Let’s see if I can remember anything that Papa taught me.”
After a few false starts, Midge bangs out a pretty decent rendition of Heart and Soul.
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"Your father plays?" Goddammit, he isn't supposed to like the guy. "Wait, does that mean you have--"
Jaskier immediately closes his mouth, eyes widening when she starts to play. Oh, this is lovely. With a big smile on his face, he rests his chin on her shoulder and puts an arm around her waist. Blue eyes follow the movement of her fingers, trying to memorize them.
"That was delightful. I hate you," he says in a teasing tone. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me."
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Midge picks out another simple tune. “I don’t know how to play!” She protests. “That was the most complicated thing that I know.”
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He watches her fingers move again - he's always liked them, but now they're even more sexy. "I suppose it's not good for your nails, huh?" He kisses her cheek. "Stay right here, keep that going."
After a quick run to the living room, Jaskier comes back with his lute. He sits next to her again, but with his legs on the other side of the stool, not wanting the piano keys to get in the way. He plucks a few strings until he finds her rhythm and easily matches her so they can play together. It's far from a perfect harmony, of course, but he loves it all the same. It makes his heart burst with happiness to share this with her.
The tune kinda matches his song My Story, so he sings a bit of it with a slower rhythm to kind of make it fit. "♫ The doubters and the haters tried to make my tale about them / I invested in erasers and took care of the problem ♫"
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His rhyme makes her smile. Leaning over, she kisses his cheek.
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"Thank you for that. It meant a lot." He rests his chin on her shoulder again and stares at the piano. "If I steal, do you think your friends will notice?"
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“Hmmm, probably…” she muses. “It kind of ties the room together.”
The top of Jaskier’s robe is gaping open and Midge uses it as an opportunity to pet his furry chest. She hasn’t been this attracted to a man in a while.
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He hums in delight at the petting, always happy to enjoy this kind of affection, especially when it comes from her perfectly manicured nails. Seeing her on a musician's stool is definitely doing it for him, so his arm returns to her waist as he starts dropping open-mouthed kisses on her neck.
Sneaky fingers start making their way up, intending to grab her tits, but at that moment, the bell rings. Jaskier throws his head back and groans in frustration. "For fuck's sake!"
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She laughs playfully at Jaskier’s frustration. “You were the one who said you were hungry.” After another kiss, Midge gets up and goes to the door. She pays the delivery boy for the pizza and wine, then brings it into the kitchen.
“You’re insatiable, by the way,” she tells him.
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Jaskier waits for her in the kitchen and takes the wine from her to uncork it - gotta pretend he's manly once in a while. As he pours for both of them, he snorts at her comment and raises his eyebrows.
"I am insatiable? When have you ever said no? Who cut our shopping trip short and texted me on a quiet Sunday afternoon?" His tone is teasing, it's obvious he doesn't mind at all. "You are the first woman who has ever matched my libido."
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“Maybe you bring it out in me,” she says as he hands her a glass of wine. “I guess Joel and I had a lot of sex too when we first got together. That was a long time ago though.”
Midge opens the box of pizza and puts a slice on each plate.
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He can't help but wonder if she likes him because he's exciting, new, and different, but when she finds a proper husband that can 'provide', she'll forget he even exists. That is also a story as old as time.
(In the past, those times didn't ache like this. This is too close to the Countess.)
Pushing those thoughts aside, he raises his glass for a toast. "To a life on the stage."
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That’s a normal part of a relationship. Sex becomes less important as you start to settle in with the person. It’s hard to be with someone forever if all you have is sex. What do you do when you’re too old to have sex anymore.
She’d be hurt to know that he thinks she would forget all about him if she found someone more traditional to have a relationship with.
Midge clinks her wine glass against his. “To success.”
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Oh, that's a good one. Jaskier grins, always proud to see her so determined to have a bright career. "To success," he agrees with a nod and clinks back before taking a sip. He licks his lips when he's done. "Not bad at all. I still can't believe I get to drink wine and ale cold. It truly is a wonder."
He takes two bites of his slice in succession, showing he wasn't lying about being hungry. "By the way, I haven't forgotten about your brisket. I'm even more eager to try it after tasting your soup."
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It’s funny, she never felt like she had the option to not have children. It was just an inevitability.
“Refrigeration is a wonder,” Midge says, tapping the fridge, “especially these things. They’re relatively new.”
They sit down at the table, Midge taking a bite of the pizza and humming her approval. “I’m happy to make it for you. Maybe I could come to your house one night.”
Jaskier seems to be avoiding coming to hers, though Midge still thinks that a dinner with her parents before the wedding would be a good idea, if he agrees to come.
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Midge coming to his house? That leaves him thinking for a second. He's not opposed to it, it just feels... funny. The family is still figuring out many things related to having a normal, everyday life. Well, as normal as they'll ever be.
Jaskier munches on the pizza to cover up the pause.
"The idea of you feeding my family is actually very sweet," he finally says with a little smile. "I'll talk to them. I don't know where you fall under the 'rule'. Geralt and Yennefer have already met you, and they let you come to check on me. So that makes you my first guest there." Another sip of the wine. "The idea of the rule was to avoid exposing Ciri to a parade of different lovers. I didn't mind at all, I prefer to have somewhere where I don't have to keep it low anyway." He winks.
"But you, darling... you are a friend. So."
It's different. And yet he isn't bothered by the idea of her coming home - it doesn't feel as 'official' as her introducing him to her family. He guesses it's because Geralt and Yennefer won't drop expectations on them.
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Midge hasn’t met Ciri yet though. She understands. The girl isn’t little, but she’s still a child. Not wanting to expose her to a lot of different people makes perfect sense.
She smiles. “I sure hope I’m a friend. Not sure if your family members like me or if I’m merely tolerable by comparison to other people you might be with.”
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The rest of the comment makes him laugh, and he almost chokes on the pizza crust. "Both! The answer is both. They do like you, and you better be proud of that, because they don't like many people." He tilts his head with a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That said, if you do come, I don't think I'll be allowed to let you stay the night. Or maybe I can convince them we'll only cuddle. So not getting distracted by my chest hair." Another wink.
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“I wouldn’t expect to stay the night. It’s pretty clear that they don’t want you fucking in the house.” She knows that his illness wasn’t the only thing holding him back that morning. Midge rolls her eyes when he mentions his chest hair, as if she wasn’t petting him earlier, as if she’s not staring at it right now.
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She may roll her eyes, but Jaskier notices how she keeps staring down. Snickering, he opens the robe a little more before returning to his pizza.
"Eyes up here," he teases. "Pizza has been a delicious addition to my meals, but I must admit, it can get quite... messy." He then licks some sauce off his fingers, totally doing it on purpose.
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She watches his tongue lick the sauce off his fingers and feels a jolt of want go through her body.
“You like to play with your food, don’t you?”
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He pretends to think hard about her question while he finishes the slice. "Mmh, do I? I'm not a vampire. Last time I checked, you were my vampiress." He takes another sip of wine and lets a drop fall from the corner of his mouth, also on purpose.
"I do like playing with you, though. Seduction is an art, one I enjoy very much. Many a person think they have to stop trying once they get together with their crush, and I greatly disagree with that philosophy." This adds to his ideas of marriage and resentment, which he's watched through the years. "Seduction isn't merely the means to an end, it's a journey to be savored. Like good wine."
He then licks off that little drop very slowly.
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Midge finishes her piece of pizza and dares to get another one, though she thinks food is about to be the last thing on her mind.
“Married people can still seduce each other,” she says. “How do you plan to seduce me tonight, Jaskier?”
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He can't help but snort at her comment. "They can, yes. But do they?" He keeps eye contact as he sips his wine. "Part of me doesn't want to share the details, should teach you to love the unexpected." He stands up and walks behind her. "But you like it when I talk." He lets a finger trace the line between her shoulders before he leans in to whisper in her ear. "You like it when I describe in great detail how hard I want to fuck the housewife out of you."
His hand reaches over her shoulder, and for a second, it appears to go down... but it actually grabs another slice of pizza before Jaskier returns to his seat to eat. He's grinning around the cheese, perfectly aware of what he's doing.
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“Yes, I do,” she says, her pulse ticking up just a little when he moves behind her. Her breath hitches at his words and she lets out a little ‘oh’. Then he’s teasing her again.
Two can play at this game.
Midge’s foot stretches out and her toes caress over his ankle and up his calf. “That’s one of my favorite scenarios for us to play out. Me, the curious housewife. You, the charming rake. Showing me what I’ve been missing.” Her toes keep going higher. “What do you plan to show me tonight? I love hearing exactly what you want to do to me.”
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Jaskier tries to keep it cool and takes another bite of his slice, but he doesn't hide the way those toes are making his body shiver.
"Is it truly a 'scenario'? Or just the truth?" He grabs a string of cheese and rolls it around his tongue before swallowing it. "I believe I've already shown you something most housewives haven't seen earlier." He lets his free hand fall on her ankle, caressing it lightly. "How did that feel, by the way? Erotic, yes, you said as much. But what else, Miriam? Did it feel powerful? Dirty? Forbidden?"
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“You certainly did.” Her toes move over his knee and start to creep up his inner thigh. “It felt very forbidden, but watching you turned me on so much. You looked like you were in ecstasy.”
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Jaskier squints his eyes at her, an idea forming in his head. His hand grabs her ankle, stopping it before it goes any farther. There's some things to consider, which he does while finishing his slice - cheating is probably not a subject he can joke about. Mmh.
He takes a good moment to plan things in his head, always keeping eye contact with her while he eats. When he senses she's about to speak again, he finally says something.
"Princess Miriam," he says before lifting her leg to kiss her ankle. "Are you sure? Your parents could come back any minute. If the king were to discover I'm taking your flower, you may lose your right to the throne. And I may lose my head."
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Does that make sense? Maybe not.
This role play piques Midge’s interests as well though. She gives him a small smile before slipping into character.
“Jaskier, I’ve wanted you ever since you became my father’s bard. You’re the only one that I want to take my flower, before father marries me off to some horrible lord.”
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Jaskier grins at her reply, so fucking giddy at the fact she's playing along. He gently puts down her leg and cleans his hands with a napkin before leaving his chair. It's clear he's spent a long time in court by how easily he falls on one knee and takes her hand to kiss her knuckles.
"Your Highness flatters me," he says as he turns her hand around to nuzzle it. "Yet I can't deny I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you as well." And hey, that's actually true. "Is it true that the king has eyes and ears in the walls? Do you think someone can see me now?" He then takes one of her fingers in his mouth to suck it, taking most of its length with no difficulty to breathe.
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Midge supposes that her answer partially depends on where Jaskier wants to fuck.
“In many rooms, yes, but not the music room. We would be safe there.”
He did say he wanted to fuck her on the piano.
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"As Your Highness commands."
Determined to make a whole performance out of this, he tiptoes to the kitchen door and looks both ways, as if checking that the corridor is clear. Then he comes back for her, gently taking her hand while a finger goes to his lips to ask for silence.
Jaskier guides Midge down the corridor, walking against the wall as if they were really sneaking around. They make it to the studio, and Jaskier closes the door before turning to look at Midge with hunger in his eyes.
"We'll have to keep it quiet - guards are patrolling the gardens." He tilts his head to indicate the window. Then he walks toward her, forcing her to step back until her back hits the piano. Jaskier puts his arms on either side of her, grabbing onto the wood as he leans in to whisper in her ear. "How protective of you has your father been, princess? Is it merely your flower that he's protected? Or you haven't kissed a man either?
If he gets upset about this joke please let me edit it lol
She gasps when she’s backed against the piano, trying to remember back to when she was a virgin and draw from that for inspiration.
“I kissed the son of a viscount once,” she murmurs, “but no man has taken my flower. Father told me it was only for the husband he had picked for me, but I think I should be able to give it to whomever I choose.”
lmaoooo I love it
After taking a deep breath, he pulls back and cups her face, his thumb lightly tracing her lips.
"Only once. So you haven't experienced the art of kissing. Not truly."
He kisses her then, slowly and sweetly, guiding her like she was a precious young thing that just came of age. Once she's into it, his hand moves from her cheek to the back of her head at the same time that his body moves forward to keep her pressed against him. Jaskier takes his sweet time keeping the kiss chaste, letting her bask in it and looking to melt her little by little. Eventually, his tongue searches for hers, and the contact is electric. He tastes her thoroughly, letting out a little hum of delight.
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She closes her eyes and allows herself to feel the same way that she did the first time that she was kissed, or at least the first time she kissed Jaskier. It was at her apartment, the afternoon they sent shopping. It felt like longing fulfilled. There’s something sweet and romantic about kissing like this, starting gentle and chaste and working up to something more heated. Her tongue pushes tentatively back against his before deepening the kiss.
Their lips part to breathe and Midge murmurs to him. “I’ve never been kissed like that before, my sweet bard. I want you so badly.”
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"You haven't been treated well, princess. Kept away in a tower like that..." He shakes his head. "Your beauty should be admired by the whole world."
He kisses her cheek and then her ear, nibbling on it before whispering again. "You want me, huh? You want this scoundrel to debauch you?" His hands lower the robe from her shoulders to expose them. "You want to prove your father that you're capable of choosing whose cock will fill you up nicely?" A kiss for her shoulder. "What naughty princess you are."
His kisses start light, going from her should to her neck where he starts devouring her properly. He licks and sucks, moves to the other side to repeat the process. "Oh, how I wish I could mark your neck. Let those candidates of yours know they must step up. Your pearls would make a great contrast with them. Alas," he sighs dramatically. "We can't let the king know what we're doing, can we?"
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Midge moans softly at the words whispered in her ear. “Yes,” she replies. “I want you to show me the pleasure that I know my husband never will.”
As he kisses over her neck and laments not being able to mark her, Midge lets the robe slip fully down and off of her body. “Mark my breasts, where my clothing will cover. I want to feel your hands and mouth on them.”
(poem by Robert Gardiner)
He gasps dramatically again, a hand on his chest as he steps back to admire her naked figure. "Your Highness! This is a complete lack of decorum! What would your father say?"
Jaskier grabs her hand to raise her arm above her head, making her turn so he can eat her with his eyes as he recites. "Ode, to Your Nakedness, Your, Lovely, Silhouette, Such Beauty, as yours, Arouses me, so." After a few turns, he pulls her against him, her back against his chest, the fluffiness of his short robe caressing her skin. Speaking of the robe, a tent is already starting to form on it.
"Here's, to Your Body, Pleasing, Perfect. May I Bask, one day, in the Glow, Of its Alluring, Angelic, Contours." His hands close on her breasts so he can play with them, massaging lightly at first, but quickly changing to pinching her nipples.
"Fuck your husband," he growls against her ear. That may be inspired by a certain reality of hers. "None of those snobbish lords know what to do with a real woman. If Your Highness excuses me..."
Suddenly, Jaskier lifts Midge and sits her on the piano. Now he can stand between her legs and bury his face in her breasts to mark them like she asked.
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“I’ve always admired your ability to come up with quick poetry.”
She moans softly when he grabs her breasts. Jaskier hasn’t played with them much tonight, and she’s been sorely missing that.
There’s a more genuine gasp when he growls in her ear and then lifts her up onto the piano. Midge spreads her legs so that he can stand in between them. She digs a hand in his hair.
“That feels so good,” she tells him. “That’s why I want you, Jaskier. I know that you’ll make me feel the sort of pleasure that only my hand can bring me now.”
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"Your hand? Princess, don't offend me so. I'm so much more than your hand." He pinches both her nipples at the same time. "Than any hand. Do you think your future husband, whose hands barely leave their gloves, will know how to touch you?" Jaskier snorts as his hand falls between her folds and two fingers gather her wetness.
"Marked and wet - what a debauched little princess. How much do you want me to corrupt you, mmh?" Those two (now wet) fingers touch her lips. "Ever tasted yourself, Your Highness?"
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“I know that lords are too proper for what I want. That’s why I want you to fuck me, my darling bard.”
Midge spreads her legs wider when she feels his hand stroke at her folds. She licks at his fingers before taking them deep in her mouth and sucking them slowly out, reminiscent of how she sucks his cock.
“I have, after I’ve touched myself.” Her eyes flick downward at the tent in his robe. “Does it make your cock hard to know that you’re going to get to fuck the princess? So many lords wish they could be in your place right now.”
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"Your Highness should go ahead and find out," he replies with a grin. "You've been brave enough to expose yourself to a servant - are you brave enough to undress him, too? To come face to face with the nude form of a man?"
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“You’re so handsome, my sweet bard.” Pulling him closer, her fingers dig into his chest hair as she kisses him again. “And your cock is so big. I can’t wait to feel it inside of me.” Her lips press to Jaskier’s ear. “Is that what you want? To feel my warm cunt tight around your cock? To know every time you look at my husband that you got to feel it first?”
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That whimper becomes a moan when she praises his body and makes such dirty comments. Oh, how much he adores her and her feisty mouth, a mouth that is reaching a new level of eroticism thanks to the context of the fantasy.
"Feel it. Mark it. Teach it what it should be like." He playfully nibbles the tip of her nose. "Every time you are with him, you'll have to think of me to be able to come at all."
Jaskier then finally gets on the piano and sits next to her, making sure the sides of their bodies are touching as much as possible. He wraps an arm around her waist and his hand dives down between her legs to let his fingers rub her folds. "Never touched a cock, yet already so eager after just seeing it. You're a very naughty princess indeed. Go ahead, continue to be brave - get to know it. See how thick it is next to your dainty fingers."
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Her fingers reach over and wrap around his cock, as her legs spread to allow his hand more access between them. She strokes his cock up and down slowly under the guise of exploring, but actually teasing him.
“You’re so hard for me already.”
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"How could I not be?" he asks after letting out a needy moan. That she pretends to explore just to mess with him is driving him crazy, especially since it fits the fantasy so well. "Your Highness is giving yourself up to me - your flower shall be mine. I could come just by thinking about it."
He kisses her then, his fingers starting to massage her entrance as his tongue searches for hers in a deep, devouring kiss. When they pull apart, he brings his fingers up with a grin. "Look at you, so wet for your servant. What a dirty princess you are."
Jaskier gently lowers them both on the piano, keeping their bodies on their sides with him staying behind her. He groans as he inserts his cock between her legs, teasing her folds with his length but not entering her quite yet.
"Tell me what you want, princess."
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It’s kind of hilarious that one of them actually was born a lord.
Her breath hitches when Jaskier positions himself behind her and pushes his cock between her thighs. This is not a ‘take your virginity’ position, but Midge doesn’t care. She loves it too much to stay true to the fantasy.
“I want you to take me just like this. Push your cock inside me.” She looks at him coyly over her shoulder. “Will it hurt?”
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It's indeed hilarious and hits home at the same time.
Jaskier wants both of them to be on the piano as part of his kink, so the position is a bit of a compromise. And they haven't done this one yet, so that's more exploring.
Gosh, not the coy look again. She's going to kill him with it. It makes his need to 'corrupt' her boil.
"You're wet enough and I'll be gentle." He kisses her nose. "So you have nothing to worry about."
A calloused hand raises her leg so he can finally go in. To follow the fantasy, he penetrates her very slowly while dropping little kisses on her shoulder and neck.
"Your flower is no more," he finally says when he's fully inside. She's tight, and wet, and just perfect. "You've claimed, Your Highness."
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She moans softly as he pushes into her, putting her upper leg behind his so that he’ll have room to thrust. “Fuck, you feel so big.” Not an exaggeration. That’s part of why Midge loves this position.
“How does my cunt feel?” She asks. “Should I touch myself while you fuck me?” Last time he took her hand away when she tried to rub her clit.
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"It feels absolutely marvelous. So wet and ready for me," he replies against her ear. "Mmmh. I was about to say that's usually my job, but... go ahead. Because if you leave my hand free, then I can do this."
Jaskier's hand sneaks under her arm to grab her tit, squeezing it as he starts to move. "Moan for me, princess. I don't care if a guard hears. I shall gladly give up my head to hear your song."
His thrusts start slow and his mouth never leaves her ear so he can keep telling her how wonderful she feels, what a good girl she is. Her hand never leaves her breasts either, playing with them and pinching the nipples just to make her moan harder.
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Her hand moves down between her legs in order to stroke her clit, matching the speed of his thrusts for now. It’s perfect like this, with his cock pushing into her from behind and his lips at her ear, whispering things to her. Midge lets out a yelp of pleasure when he pinches her nipples.
“My body is yours, my sweet bard.”
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"Nobody will ever fuck you like I do," he grumbles between pants and moans, fingers digging into the skin of her breasts. "You can go back to your lordlings and your engagements, but you'll always miss my cock."
Lol @ fucking on music
“I know I will,” she pants, “you feel so fucking good.”
She slows her fingers a bit, wanting to delay her orgasm and enjoy the sensation of him fucking her even longer.
“This position is so naughty, my darling. Fucking like the animals do. I know I’m a good girl, but you love it when I’m bad, don’t you?”
now he just has to convince her to fuck on a church organ
Jaskier doesn't notice the change of pace from her - he's already lost, his body moving on its own as he fucks hard into her, the sound of his balls hitting her rear making outright filthy music.
"Like animals do, princess? Should I get you on your fours and mount you later? Is that what you want?"
Fortunately that’s not sacrilege to her!
Unfortunately, their sex can’t go on forever. Jaskier is going to come soon enough. Midge speeds up the pace of her fingers over her clit, feeling her pleasure rise rapidly.
“Jaskier…” She reverts to the innocent princess. “I… I think you’re going to make me come.”
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"Good. Come for me, princess. Come for me, and I'll reward you with my seed." his thrusts start going harder and faster, and his hand doesn't let go of her tits. "You would like that, would you not? To be nicely filled up?"
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The orgasm hits her hard and Midge’s moans of pleasure ring off of the walls. Her body stiffens, then arches as the waves of pleasure flow over her. It’s perfect as always, especially the way he’s grabbing her tits. She clutches at his hair, never wanting it to end.
When it finally does, she slumps back against him, spent for the moment.
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Getting to feel her body against his from head to toes just makes it extra special.
Jaskier collapses when he's done too, but he leaves his head on her shoulder for the obligatory cuddling. After a few seconds to recover his breath, he finally speaks.
"I hope Your Highness is satisfied."
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She leans her head against his as he comes down. “Very satisfied, my sweet bard.”
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"That holds a new meaning after this. How was that for seduction?" he replies with a wide grin on his face. "Should I keep calling you princess, then?"
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She laughs softly. “I liked it. Sure, you can call me princess. Your princess.” Lacing their fingers together, Midge brings his hand to her lips.
There’s a moment of silence, then: “We’re actually lying on top of a piano right now.”
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He laughs pretty hard while finally pulling out. "Yes, we are. I don't know about you, but I loved this part too."
After a kiss to her cheek, he gets off the piano and takes her hand to help her down too. He also picks up the robes and this time he puts the small one on her shoulders while he puts on the big one.
With an arm half way through a sleeve, he freezes. "...please tell me you know where the cleaning products are." He falls to his knees as he puts a hand on the piano. "I'm sorry, dear. Your sacrifice is appreciated. I promise I'll leave you sparkling again."
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“It’s truly the most unique place I’ve ever had sex,” she replies, taking Jaskier’s hand as he helps her off the piano. She wraps Muriel’s robe around her, and snorts a laugh at Jaskier’s actions.
“Wow, you get me dirty all the time and I’ve never seen this level of concern for me,” Midge teases. “Unbelievable. Cleaning products are probably under the kitchen sink. I’ll go look.”
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Jaskier laughs as he leans over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. "That's because you look sublime when you've been properly debauched."
He rushes ahead to the kitchen without waiting for her and gets another slice of pizza to munch on it while he searches for the cleaning products. The pizza is cold by now, but he doesn't care. It's still good.
As soon as he has the cleaning products, he rushes back to the studio to start cleaning the poor piano. He's very concentrated on the task, singing along while he works. He only pauses to curse when he notices a dirty spot that he didn't see before.
Once he's done, he steps back to admire his work. "I wish I had wood wax. But it still looks good, right?"
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While Jaskier cleans the piano, Midge cleans up the kitchen, washing and drying their dirty plates. She keeps the wine glasses out for now, in case they want to finish the bottle. Knowing Jaskier, he will. When she finishes tidying the kitchen, she joins him in the extra room.
His care for all things musical shows through with his attention to detail as he cleans the piano. Just like he’s always so gentle with his lute. It’s really quite sweet.
“Looks like it’s never even been fucked on,” Midge replies with a nod.
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It's a joke, of course - even if he had his own piano, he would clean it after fucking on it. Which he would often. He picks up the cleaning products and takes them back to the kitchen before pouring more wine. Midge knows him well.
"Did you hear about that artist who covered himself and his wife in paint?" he asks while pulling at Midge's hand to sit her on his lap. He wants his cuddling! "They fucked on a big canvas and framed the result. The literal 'art of fucking'."
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Midge curls up in his lap and has a sip of wine. “That’s what most modern art looks like,” she says. “Sounds messy, but fun. We could try that.
You’re musical though. You probably want to create a song using my moans or something.”
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He wraps an arm around her, keeping her close while he reaches for his own glass. However, he freezes to stare at her with clear surprise.
"I always think of your moans as the sweetest music. You would be ok with something like that?"
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She notices how still he gets, then raises an eyebrow at his response.
“Oh, you really want to do that? Wouldn’t the song be obscene?”
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He sips some wine while closely watching her reaction. Her question actually leaves him thinking for a moment.
"I suppose it'd depend on the type of song and how much moaning sounds I use. My first instinct is to say yes, it'd be very obscene, and that's the point. But it could also be a story about two people coming together, and the moans only fade away at the end as their bodies finally crash into passion."
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She shrugs. “Might be hard to get radio play with actual orgasm noises in the song unless they’re really well hidden.”
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The radio, right. Jaskier adores the invention, he really does. He has it on at home whenever he isn't making music of his own - the fact that these recordings allow music to play everywhere all the time is amazing and he welcomes it. But wrapping his head around putting his music there is still something he needs to get used to. It's not bad, just... new.
"It wouldn't be a song from such a context, no. The raunchy ones never are. Do you think I sang my dirty ditties at court?" He shakes his head. "Those were for the tarverns, mayhaps a festival." A pause as he remembers something. "Now I think about it, there've been a few exceptions. I got away at court with some lyrics that hid the naughty bits with metaphors." He sips his wine. "Although you'd think those so-called smart lords would get the very obvious meaning behind To pull on my horn / As it rises in the morn." He sing-sangs that bit.
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She studies him for a moment, sipping her wine. “What if everyone knew it was me moaning in that song?” That’s kind of embarrassing. More than kind of. She thinks adding her orgasm noises to his music would require more of a commitment on his part.
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He stares back, trying to understand where that question is coming from. It bothers him that he can't tell.
"For the record, you brought up the radio. I just toyed with the idea of making the song - I am still shocked to hear you're considering it. I was expecting you to ask me to keep it private. Like the picture I sent you."
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“Admittedly, I was joking, but you seemed very interested in the idea. I’m not sure how I feel about us recording our sex. Or rather, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable with it, even as a private thing between us.”
Private things have a way of getting out, it seems.
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Jaskier cups her face, brushing his thumb on her cheek. "I want you to enjoy sex, to embrace it. Not to feel uncomfortable. Society already does enough shaming as it is."
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She presses a kiss to his wrist. “You’ve helped me to explore all kinds of things that I never thought I would. This is the most open that I’ve ever been.”
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Can she really take this? Jaskier can hear Geralt telling him to end it before she gets hurt - hell, the rational part of him thinks the same. But Jaskier is more emotional than rational, so he melts under her kiss and his heart aches when he hears her say that this the most open that she's ever been. It only makes him want to give her more.
"I am really happy to hear that," he says after a long, awkward pause. "You honor me so. So never be afraid of saying no, even if we are in the middle of whatever idea we get in the future. Not everything will land, and I don't want you to have any regrets."
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She nods. “You’re always gentle with me, pushing me but not forcing me to do anything.”
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"Of course, if you want it just a little rougher, just let me know. We did have a good time when I fucked you hard on your knees last time." A grin. "And you seemed very interested in the idea of mounting you just a few moments ago."
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It’s late and they’ve gone 3 rounds. She’s not ruling out a fourth, but she’s in the mood to wind down and have Jaskier hold her in the dark.
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Jaskier isn't a jock or anything like it - he isn't the kind of guy who is known for physical feats. But he's fit enough, he thinks, and Midge is on the smaller side, so it's easy for him to pick her up in his arms and take her to the bedroom.
He kisses her sweetly as he disrobes her, getting rid of his own robe too before joining her under the blankets. Nuzzling her hair, he wraps his arms around her, loving how perfectly she fits against him. "Better?"
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“Much better.” She feels warm and safe here, lying against his chest with her fingers stroking it idly. “Did Geralt teach you how to fight?”
It’s just something she thought of and isn’t asking for any reason in particular.
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"Please, please, say that in front of Geralt sometime, I beg you." He shakes his head. "I can't fight to save my life. And that's why I have the person equivalent of a brick house to do it for me. I start the fights, Geralt ends them." He raises his eyebrows. "Do I want to know where that came from?" He doesn't sound judgmental, just curious. And very amused.
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“Him finishing your fights after you start them with your mouth sounds… correct,” Midge says. “I was just curious, since I saw him training Ciri. I wondered if you picked up a few things.”
Guess not. She will absolutely mention it in front of Geralt.
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Because he's pretty sure that he ended up talking to rats in prison because of Geralt.
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There is a cabin, and a dining hall, and activities, and a hair salon. No tents or foraging required.
“Does Geralt talk to his motorcycle?”
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He's seen RVs and he thinks they're a great middle point. An actual bed but you still get the forest.
The question makes him laugh. "Not in the same way he talked to Roach, but he may say a little thing once in a while. Like I did to the piano." Then he realizes. "Do men talk to their cars here?"
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Geralt would probably hate it, but it seems right up Jaskier’s alley. Midge stops herself before she invites him to come with them. Let’s see if he comes to the wedding first.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the men here fucked their cars,” she replies.
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Imagining his face already makes him snicker. That snickering becomes full laughter when she mentions the car fucking.
"Weird, but still better than farm animals."
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“Far better,” Midge replies with a nod, then leans up to kiss his cheek.
“I had a good time tonight.”
I was watching the movie Glass and got a surprise Lenny lol
The kiss makes him smile softly. He kisses her nose and looks at her in the eye - gosh, he adores her so.
"Me too. I missed you. You spoiled me with our late night talks. It's exactly what I need when I am in the middle of a swamp."
oh nice!
Cuddling like this makes her feel so close to him, and not just physically. Her heart swells at how right this feels. Maybe it’s the hormones released during sex that are making her feel this way, but Midge thinks it’s more than that. The sex is only one part of what she likes about Jaskier.
She doesn’t dare voice any of that, because she fears it would drive him away. Someday, maybe, they will need to talk about it, but right now she’s too happy to potentially ruin it.
“I missed you too, and not just the sex. I like talking with you, making you laugh.”
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Jaskier teases, but to be fair, he used to be like that, too. That doesn't mean he shouldn't share what he's learned. Nature is an artist too.
He nuzzles her hair, because he likes it but also because he wants to hide his eyes when she says that. Can't show too much.
"You like making everyone laugh." His tone is light - not offended, just teasing. Calloused fingers rub her back. "Just don't tell Susie I get it for free."
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“Susie knows what you get from me for free,” Midge quips. “It’s true that I like making everyone laugh, but I really enjoy making you laugh most of all. I love the sound of your laugh.”
She kisses him sweetly. “And you’re great to cuddle with, my darling bard.”
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In fact, he's getting a new idea now. And he saves it for himself to surprise her later.
Jaskier laughs at the Susie thing, and makes a mental note to tease her if they ever meet again.
"Now you've made the musician curious. Do comedians have preferences for the kind of laughter they hear?" He wonders is she likes his because of sound reasons, or just because it's his. He isn't brave enough to ask. At least the kiss provides a distraction - he grabs the back of her head and deepens the kiss just enough to tease but not crossing the line into starting something. "Mm-mh, you do fit perfectly against me, it's quite lovely. Maybe you should stop wearing heels, then I can always have you under my chin."
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“It might be difficult for you to play the lute like that.”
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It's hard to resist when she leaves her mouth so close. Jaskier kisses her again, short and sweet. He just likes casual affection - and feeling close to her, he must admit.
"I'll put my arms around you and the lute on your lap. It may be more difficult to sing if I keep nuzzling your hair."
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Midge likes the affection as well. It’s one of the things she’s missed since her divorce, and Jaskier happens to be very good at it.
“I might as well lip sync the words and we can be a ventriloquist act,” she says teasingly.
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"I have no idea what you just said, but I'm open to learn about anything that gets you on my lap."
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“They’re people with puppets and they make the puppet’s mouth move so it seems like it’s talking,” Midge explains. “Most ventriloquist acts are nightmarish, so maybe don’t look into them. I guess Howdy Doody is technically a ventriloquist act. I don’t know how it doesn’t scare Ethan to death.”
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Midge smiles at him. “Can’t have me in your lap without getting hard, hmm?”
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Jaskier laughs at her question. "Can you blame me? You're so-" Every word that follows is punctuated by a kiss to a different spot on her face. "Addictive. Gorgeous. Witty. Alluring. Affectionate. Charismatic. Eager. Charming. Seductive."
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She closes her eyes and scrunches her nose when he kisses her and tries not to giggle, but he only gets to the third word and kiss before she’s giggling like a girl.
“Thank you. Do you really think I’m all of those things?”
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Jaskier loves listening to her giggles - they're cute, and a pure expression of joy. Music from the heart, so to speak. Her question, however, takes him by surprise. He tilts his head.
"Of course. Do you think I'd lie about something like that? Or do you not believe it yourself?" She's always seemed so confident in his eyes, but minds are complicated things.
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It was a big blow to her self-esteem, and she’s not sure if she’s recovered entirely. She can act that way on stage, but real life isn’t always the same.
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"Oh, darling..." He hugs her tightly and kisses the top of her head. "Your husband is an arse, so you shouldn't take his opinion seriously. Who do you trust more? The fucking bloke that cheated on you? Or your manager, who only needed to hear you once to know she found someone special? As for me..."
He kisses her head again, as if asking her to be patient while he explains. "I believe I told you I don't keep things or people I like around, unless it's for survival. I may use my silver tongue in court, or with a client, to write songs that make people Geralt. But in my personal time?" He shakes his head. "I won't deny that when I meet someone, I may exaggerate a bit as a seduction technique. Those are one-night stands, however. But you? I'm keeping you. Because indeed, you are all those things. What Susie sees, I see it too."
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His words are surprisingly touching, even if they aren’t quite words of love. He’s keeping her. He wants her for more than just one night, which is apparent since they’ve had sex multiple times. He likes her and wants her around. For him, that means a lot. The smile returns to her face.
“Oh you’re keeping me, are you?” she asks teasingly. “Where are you keeping me? In your bed?”
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"I'm so glad to see your pretty smile again," he says before kissing the corner of her mouth. Her questions make him laugh. "I wish. In your bed, maybe. And this bed. And the couch, and the piano... We said something about your dressing room, didn't we?"
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“We did.” She grins. “Next time I have a place with a private dressing room. You said previously that you want to keep me in your lap all day. What would you to do me if you kept me like that?” Her fingers stroke slowly over his chest.
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"I could keep my cock inside you all day. Compose dirty lyrics right by your ear. Fill you up with my seed over and over, to the point you're leaking on my thighs."
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(by kortu valentine)
"I don't know about the writing part per se - but you are great inspiration. I would struggle to put rhymes together while you ride me to whisper them in your ear". His hands fall on her arse to squeeze it as he buries his nose in her ear. "She felt his hands move like they’d just been gifted a map — not to conquer, but to understand."
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She presses a kiss to his jaw. “Maybe one day I’ll get up on stage and tell the audience how incredible your cock is, how you can make me come so many times.”
She’s kidding. Probably.
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Jaskier isn't sure if she's kidding or not, but he groans anyway because he absolutely loves the idea. "What else?" he asks as his hands start to roam around her body. "What else would you tell your crowd about me? Do you think they'd picture you taking my cock so enthusiastically?"
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Her arousal starts to increase as Jaskier’s hands start to move over her body. “Probably how well you eat my cunt,” she says. “Another thing for them to be jealous of.”
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"Would you tell the women in your audience not to get married?" he asks between kisses. "To just get themselves a boytoy with a skilled mouth?"
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“A husband can have a skilled mouth too,” she breathes. “They just need to care enough to learn.”
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"Your husband never bothered to care," he says with a growl. It's not the roleplay anymore, but something tells him she liked that part. "You've never been fucked like this. Say it."
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“I’ve never been fucked like this, Jaskier.”
Between his words and the way that he’s sucking at her breasts, her arousal is rising very quickly.
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"You've never been kissed like this either," he adds when he breaks the kiss. "Tell me what you want, Miriam."
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“I want you to fuck me,” Midge says. “Make me come hard for you. And I want to feel you come inside me. Do you have another orgasm in you my darling bard?”
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He grabs her hand and kisses each of her fingertips. "Think you can give me a literal hand to help me get there?" He lets go of her hand so his thumb can tease her clit. "I shall return the favor."
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“Of course…”
Midge reaches between their bodies and wraps her fingers around his cock, holding it snug in her hand before stroking it up and down.
“So big… I love how your big cock feels inside me, Jaskier.”
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"And I love how well you always take me... wet and tight and madenning."
Jaskier kisses her again, as hungry and needy as before, while his hand gently removes hers so he can finally move inside. His back arches as he groans, basking in the feeling of how amazing she feels around him. Soon he's thrusting into her, always keeping his eyes on hers just to admire how pretty she is.
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Midge hitches her leg up further on his hip as he pushes into her. After taking a second to adjust her position, she’s able to meet each of his thrusts, a soft moan escaping her lips every time.
“Why wouldn’t I be when it feels this good? You spoil me.”
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With every second that passes, his thrusts go faster and harder, his words more slurry. It's easy to lose himself in her, to let her take him in and keep him captured in her cunt in a cloud of pleasure and passion.
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“I love being a good girl for you,” Midge breathes. “Love being your spoiled princess.”
Midge tugs at his hair, knowing that he enjoys it. Her breasts bounce against his chest with each thrust, her hardened nipples giving her extra stimulation.
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Every detail of hers adds to the pleasure to the point of overwhelming him: her moans, the hand in his hair that makes his skull tingle, and those wonderful breasts bouncing against his chest - if someone wanted to hypnotize him, they could just show him that.
"A very dirty princess." How he's managing to talk, he isn't sure. Part of him wants to just his brain off, but his mouth is always bigger. "Taking my cock so well. So wet and so eager. You love being debauched, and I swear I'll keep fucking you so thoroughly that you'll come by just dreaming about me later."
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“You think?” She grins. “Never had an orgasm in a dream before…”
Her words trail off as the pleasure grows, her moans echoing off the walls of the bedroom. Jaskier always seems to know exactly what to say to turn her on.
“Almost…”
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When she says she's close, Jaskier adds another finger to her clit, rubbing as desperately as he thrusts into her. No matter how many times they do this, she always feels absolutely divine. "Then come for me, darling. Let me feel your delightful cunt swallowing me all. Let me fill you up."
For that final push, he buries his face in her breasts, sucking on them like a man dying of thirst.
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She slumps back a bit but still clings to him, ready to feel him come inside of her.
(by anonymous writer)
"Forbidden pleasure courses through my veins, as I'm trapped in her grip of orgasmic chains."
It only takes Jaskier a few more thrusts to orgasm as well. He buries his cock as deep as possible and his fingers dig into her skin as he fills her up, moaning Miriam as an explosion of colors goes off in his head. His mind floats in pure bliss and he wishes he could keep it there forever - to worry about the world outside is too troublesome.
His whole body shivers as his orgasm ends and Jaskier collapses on top of her, his nose looking for her neck to nuzzle by pure instinct.
I’ve been so tired these past few days none of my other tags are getting done but these
As he comes down from his orgasm, Midge brushes his hair back off of his face and kisses him softly. The two of them are finally quiet, just basking in the afterglow for a moment.
hope it gets better soon! and ♥♥♥♥
Years on the road with Geralt have given him a pretty fucking good inner clock. Most of the time he sleeps in because he wants to, but the witcher has trained him to get his ass off the bed pretty fucking early if needed.
That's what he does today - it's still dark outside, but the stars are already disappearing. Midge is sleeping so peacefully that he almost doesn't want to wake her up, but he's a man on a mission. If Midge stirs when he gets off the bed, he'll just whisper something about the bathroom.
It's obviously a lie, because it takes him thirty minutes to come back.
"Midge," he grabs her shoulder to gently shake her. "Wake up, darling. I have a surprise for you."
When Midge opens her eyes, she'll discover that Jaskier has stolen pajamas and slippers from a closet, and he's wearing them with the robe. Jaskier puts down the other robe and a nightgown on the bed, clearly expecting Midge to change too.
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“Mmm, what?” She smiles up at him when she hears his words. “You’re up early.” After stretching, Midge gets out of bed and kisses Jaskier’s mouth slowly, again and again. Waking up to him feels so wonderful. “Good morning.”
Midge pulls the offered nightgown over her head.
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"Don't-" Kiss. "Distract-" Kiss. "Midge! We don't have much time."
While she puts on the nightgown, he puts the slippers on her feet - it seems he isn't kidding about being in a hurry. The robe quickly follows, and once Jaskier is sure it's tightly tied around her, he takes Midge's hand and drags her to the elevator. If she tries to ask any questions during the ride, he silences her with a kiss.
The elevator drops them on the last floor, and there, it's just a short set of stairs to reach the roof. The surprise becomes apparent as soon as Jaskier opens the door: he's put down a duvet (don't worry, they can wash it!), a pile of pillows, two glasses, the leftover wine, his camera, and the box of dirty chocolates.
"Oh, good, it hasn't started yet," he says while looking at the sky. New York is eerily quiet at this hour. "Come on, princess. Let's get comfortable."
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“Where?—“ His kiss silences her and after a few more false starts, she gives up asking, even if it is nice to kiss him.
Midge takes in the scene on the roof and smiles at him. “What’s all this? Oh, chocolate and wine, breakfast of champions.”
They get comfortable on the pillows and duvet, Midge curling up next to him. “What are we waiting for?” She asks, her eyes filled with excitement and mischief.
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When Midge tries to ruin the surprise again, Jaskier pushes a chocolate into her mouth and pecks her cheek. Thankfully, they don't have to wait much longer: soon, the sky is filling with colors that only an artist like Mother Nature herself could pull off.
After all, Midge said she never watched a sunrise.
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She’s never watched a sunrise like this, that’s for sure.
The colors appear slowly and Midge gets comfortable next to Jaskier with her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined. Hopefully nobody will find them up here.
“That’s beautiful,” she whispers to him.
(by Bekah Halle)
Jaskier rests his head on top of hers and wraps an arm around her waist, keeping her close so they can continue to share the warmth.
"Isn't it? You can't find colors like this on a paint palette." He remembers telling something similar to Geralt the first time he saw this over two decades ago. It's been so long, yet this kind of memory never fades. "I wish we could do this in the countryside. The birds sing to welcome the sun."
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“We could,” she says. “A nice little getaway to the Catskills.”
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He then grabs a chocolate and puts it in his mouth before kissing her, letting the sweetness melt between their tongues.
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She might be getting ahead of herself. Even though she’s asked him to accompany her to Leah’s wedding, a weekend away sounds very much like something a couple would do.
Midge strokes her tongue against his, tasting both the chocolate and his mouth. One hand presses gently against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingers.
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Jaskier doesn't mind the idea, actually, because her family wouldn't be there. He sees it as the same thing they're doing here, but in a different background.
He smiles against her mouth, resting his forehead against hers when they break the kiss. "What is your hand feeling?"
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Midge returns the smile, her nose brushing against his. “Your heartbeat,” she murmurs.
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He kisses her nose before capturing her mouth in another sweet, slow kiss. "And what does my heartbeat tell you?"
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She asks cheekily. “How many times can you fuck in one weekend?”
That’s probably what a weekend in the Catskills would turn into and you know what? Midge isn’t mad about it.
She’s silent for a moment, not wanting to blurt out something that he might recoil from.
“That you’re content… happy…”
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His answer makes him smile widely, and he kisses her cheek. "I am, yes. Being with you helps me forget about the outside world. It's all spark and affection."
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“Anything troubling you?” she asks as she continues to stroke his chest. Perhaps he means that she helps him to forget the world in general, not that he has anything specific that’s bothering him.
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Is anything bothering him? The fact that he has to make a decision about the damn wedding. The fact he keeps seeing signs in her that flatter him but also scare him and he shouldn't encourage.
But he isn't about to say that aloud. Instead, he shrugs.
"I wouldn't call it trouble, just... it's been a few months, but this world is still a lot to take in. I've always known what to do with my life, so having to find my footing again is... a lot." He kisses the corner of her mouth. "When I am with you, I can forget about that. It's just me, you, and your marvelous tits."
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“I understand,” Midge replies. This world is so different from the one that he came from. She would feel equally lost in his world.
“I’ll bet my tits do a lot to cheer you up.”
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Jaskier laughs, which is more proof of how good she is at distracting him with humor, too. "Mmmh, they do. And your mouth too. Because of the jokes, obviously." He winks. "You also seem to like my tits." Her hands are always on his chest - not complaining, though.
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“Of course. Just the jokes. Not what else I can do with my mouth.” So cheeky. Midge kisses him again. “Your tits are wonderful. I think you know you have a nice chest, Jaskier.”
For whatever reason, the chest hair really does it for her too.
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She's so cute when she's being sly and cheeky. Jaskier keeps up the kiss for longer, as if he could taste her wittiness. "Do I? I had no idea." More teasing, lots of exaggeration. "You'll have to remind me more often. Rub it a lot so I don't forget." He winks and kisses her cheek. "Teasing aside, I do like it when you pet me. It's very relaxing."
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It’s not the current style, but it works for him with his bard persona.
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During bad breakups and mid-life crises, obviously the answer is a haircut. Or the opposite, in this case. But the point stands.
"But most of my life I wore it short. Head hair, I mean. The rest of my body has always been fucking hairy." He grins. "And you like it."
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She gives him a gentle kiss. “I like all of you. A lot.”
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Part of his brain does wonder if he should examine her statement further, but thankfully, she adds more. Jaskier is happy to return the kiss with a smile. "I like you, too, darling. It almost makes me feel grateful for that arrest."
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“Me too,” she replies. “I never thought I’d be grateful for going to jail, but meeting you was… a wonderful thing in my life.”
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Worried about his mouth saying too much, he takes the wine and drinks straight from the bottle, playing it off as just being thirsty. He even passes the bottle to Midge, glasses forgotten.
"I'm glad I could be something good in your life," he ends up saying, because his heart is a big traitor who refuses to let go of her. Jaskier can hear Geralt's grunt of disapproval in the distance. "Because it sounded like you needed it, considering your family. No offense." Actually, he means the offense, but gotta keep up the manners.
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“I love my family, even if they irritate me,” she replies. “I’m sure your family does things that annoy you too, but you still love them.”
Her parents mean well. Midge doesn’t think that they don’t love her or don’t want the best for her. Her idea of what’s best sometimes differs from theirs.
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“You can still come up with creative insults for her. I have a feeling that she can handle it - and will probably come up with a few of her own.”
Yennefer is no shrinking violet.
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"Oh, we still insult each other all the time. I'm a slut, she's a demon, we're both bitches." He shrugs. "But they don't escalate anymore, you know? We used to be more cruel. And don't take me wrong, getting along is far better. I just miss wordplay with bite." He hums, almost lost in thought. "Maybe I should get one of those letter machine thingies, get on writing."
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There’s a pang of sadness in her. Midge doesn’t like having to hide how she feels, but she also doesn’t want this thing between them to end. It might be difficult to just remain friends and she would miss him too much.
“A typewriter? Planning on sending an insulting letter to someone?” she asks. “I’m not an insult comic, but I could always give it a shot.”
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"Insulting letters sound fun, actually; but not what I meant. I was talking about putting my poetry together in a book, maybe writing a novel. I had many books under my name back in my world." He tilts his head at her. "Give it a shot? You mean to banter with me? I don't know if I can insult you."
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“Oh, I thought you wanted to be insulted,” she says with a laugh. “A poetry book sounds great though. You wrote novels back home? I guess none of them exist here. Have you considered rewriting them?”
They’ll be slightly different of course, but if they were popular where he came from, they might be popular here too.
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He takes a chocolate right before she asks her question, so he makes a so-so gesture with his hand to answer while he swallows.
"The serious books under my name were my poetry and my lyrics. Some essays. Then there was the anonymous stuff." His tone is ominous, his eyebrows waggle. "I mentioned that I hand-copied some books to make some coin during my teen years, right? Those were the forbidden things, the ones that no printer would take. Eventually, I wrote some of my own 'anonymous' stuff. Political statements, mostly, but there were a few romance novels. And they were raunchy." He grins and winks. "Men loving men, women loving women. And witchers saving innocent ladies - it was part of fixing witchers' reputation, since usually they were depicted as the villains in stories. I would read passages to Geralt while we camped just to annoy him."
He hums, considering her idea. "Mayhaps I should rewrite them. Gotta get the machine first. Learn how to use it."
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“Why am I not surprised that you wrote dirty books?” Midge replies. “You might want to keep your pen name here as well.” Gay romances are still far too outrageous for the mainstream. “Oh, I’d like to be saved by a witcher. I know just how I’d thank him too.”
Wink. Geralt’s an attractive man, but Midge has no real interest in him. Maybe if Jaskier hears her talk about another man, it will ease his mind about whatever feelings he thinks she has for him.
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He snaps out of it when she makes her witcher joke, and he laughs pretty hard.
"Who knows, maybe those fucking portals will drop another witcher soon and you may get your wish." It does ease his mind a little. "If you think my cock is nice, you should see Geralt's. As thick as the rest of him." He shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "I bet his brothers are the same."
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“I think your cock fits very nicely inside me,” Midge tells him. “Any bigger and it might be painful.”
So much for making him think that she wants other men. She’s terrible at this.
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Her concerns are valid, though, so Jaskier doesn't think anything of it. In fact, he grins around the bottle neck as he takes another sip.
"Too big may hurt a little, yes," he admits, clearly talking from experience. "But there's nicely big. With enough lubrication, it feels wonderfully full."
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“Yeah, I’m sure, but you fill me exactly right. It’s like Goldilocks.”
Does he know that story?
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Goldilocks isn't something he recognizes, no - but he draws the wrong conclusion from her comparison. Jaskier raises his eyebrows. "You call me out for writing raunchy stuff, but what have you been reading? Please do tell me more about this Goldilocks lad and their size preferences."
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this is extra funny when you consider that book Jaskier is blond and curls his hair
"A Goldilocks cock! It's flattering to be called just right, yet I'm sensing a joke at the expense of my cock in your next routine. How dare you, missy." He pokes her stomach just to tease. "Mayhaps I should write it first. Tell the real story of Goldilocks, the crossdressing man who got to try some different kind of 'bears'."
He's been picking some slang from Rainbow Road, oops.
hehehehe
“What?” she asks. “What other kind of bears are there?”
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He waggles his eyebrows. Yeah, he wants to write the raunchy version of Goldilocks. To help his point, he grabs a cock chocolate and sucks on the tip before eating it.
"There's something about 'friend of Dorothy', too? The girl with the lion on the gold road? I want to watch that movie, see what the fuss is about."
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“So is Geralt a bear?” You know she had to ask, right?
Midge furrows her brow. “Oh, I’ve heard of that before. They’re talking about ‘The Wizard of Oz’, but I’m not really sure what the phrase means.”
Maybe Susie knows? Not that Midge would ever ask her.
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Jaskier grins during the whole explanation, really loving all the details and sense of community he's found here. It's a pretty damn good reason why he doesn't want to leave this world.
"Mayhaps we can watch it together and learn. Do you know how we can achieve that? I've been dying to watch more movies anyway, they're so amazing. And the musicals at the theatre! What an amazing concept they are."
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“It’s a classic movie, so sometimes they still play it in the theaters. It’s based on a novel, but the movie is better.” Thank you MGM for taking a book about the gold standard and making it into an entertaining movie. “I said we should go to a show sometime. You’d love it.”
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"Yes, please, let's do it one of these nights." He raises the wine bottle only to find it empty. He sighs. "I suppose this is a sign to pick up camp."
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Midge echoes his sigh. “I guess so.” It’s almost fully light out now. “This was fun. Thanks for bringing me up here.”
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I have a problem and I think I need your help. Well, technically Geralt’s, I guess.
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When Midge starts her next text with the word 'problem', he fears she'll bring the subject up. Reading the rest of the text sounds very ominous and for once, it makes him wish it'd been about the wedding after all.
Fuck, that can't be good. What happened? Are you alright?
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Give him a second while he yells at Geralt to get ready.
address now
we'll be there in five
evacuate immediately
don't you fucking dare to go
anyone got hurt?
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Do you think it’s really that serious? Nobody’s hurt. We don’t even know what it is yet. It seems more active at night anyway.
I’ll text Joel and let him know that you two are coming and then I’ll meet you there.
Do they really need to evacuate the factory?
[ Moishe’s going to be pissed. ]
how about a nest of Harrisi (huge poisonous spiders) hiding in the walls
You know he's worried when he's typing so informally.
we can't know if it's serious now but i don't want to risk anyone getting hurt without more information
so yes evacaute
something else you can tell me besides active at night?
sounds good - I know nothing about Witcher monsters
I’ll tell Joel to evacuate the factory. His father will be pissed about losing a day of production.
Joel said he hears scurrying in the walls at night. I’m sure he can give you more details.
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then text him as a heads up and stay where you are
That's all he says, because Yennefer is opening the portal now. Jaskier and Geralt are dropped in an alley so they don't get attention from the public, and have to walk a block to the factory.
When they find Miriam waiting by the door, they both curse.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Jaskier cries out while Geralt grabs Midge by the arm and growls- "Leave."
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There’s a group of workers standing outside looking confused over why they were told to evacuate the building. They look equally confused and alarmed when the huge man approaches Midge.
Jaskier is right. Geralt can be frightening. Midge is stunned into silence, which is broken by another voice.
“Hey! Get your hands off of her!”
A harried-looking man has just come out of the building and he’s glaring at Geralt. The witcher is twice Joel’s size, but he’d still fight him if he thought he was hurting Midge.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Midge holds up a placating hand. “Joel, I texted them about the creatures in the walls. They’re here to help.”
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"Send your workers home," Geralt tells Joel with another growl, then he makes his way inside as he unsheathes his silver sword.
Jaskier sighs as he rushes to get between the door and the crowd with his hands up. See, this is why he has to come along. Can't depend on Geralt's communication skills.
"Worry not, my good people! The mighty witcher has come to save the day! And you should listen to him - everyone-" He glances at Midge. "-must go home. We don't want anyone to get hurt, now do we? Even if the creature goes down quickly, there will probably be lots of monster guts left to clean. There won't be any work done today."
Perhaps tomorrow either, depending on what it is, but better not mention that now. Don't want to make the crowd even more nervous.
I love this already
The workers all start to murmur amongst themselves, some looking fearful now.
“Joel, send them home,” Midge says.
“Midge…”
“Do it.”
With a deep sigh, Joel speaks again. “You all need to go home. Your shifts are done for today, but you’ll still get paid for your full hours.”
Midge can tell this is killing him. Moishe’s going to go nuclear at the idea of paying the workers to not work.
“I’m not leaving,” Joel tells Jaskier as the crowd starts to disperse. “I’m responsible for what happens in this building.”
Both of the men look at Midge, who resolutely crosses her arms. “Absolutely not. I can handle myself.”
I've been giggling since the texting started
When Joel says he's responsible for the building, Jaskier nods, willing to compromise. And he does need someone who knows the place just in case.
"I can respect that." And that's saying a lot, because he doesn't respect Joel in any other aspect. Jaskier rolls his eyes at Midge's response. "I seriously doubt you can handle yourself against--"
He opens the door just enough to peek inside. "Update?" he yells at Geralt.
The answer arrives quickly. "Harrisi nest in the walls. Looking for access."
Jaskier curses under his breath before turning to Midge again. "I seriously doubt you can handle yourself against huge, poisonous spiders. Those fuckers are--" Suddenly, his eyes widen. "Fuck. Fuck." He looks at Joel. "The place is full of fabrics. The spiders will need fire. Please tell me you have the sprinkly thingies installed."
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“This is Jaskier,” Midge says. “And that’s Geralt. He’s a witcher, which means that he fights monsters for a living.”
She does indeed wrinkle her nose at the idea of huge spiders. Not a fan, but she’s also not making any motions to leave.
“Are you saying that they shoot fire or that he’s going to have to use fire to kill them?” Joel asks.
“The building has sprinklers,” Midge confirms.
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"They shoot poison. Geralt will most likely rely on his sword to kill them, but if there are too many of them, he may use fire soon. And the nest will have to be burned to avoid getting more." He nods his thanks at her. "Please go home. I don't want you to get hurt--"
At that moment, they hear a small explosion and a wall crumbling. It's then followed by Geralt's grunts and lots of screeching.
"...I guess he had to create the access."
Jaskier opens the door to take another peek, only for a very big and disgusting creature to try to jump at him. As Jaskier squeals and steps back, Geralt uses his hand signs to send a flame that lights the spider on fire. It runs around the room as it yells in weird noises, activating the splinkers. Now Geralt is a very wet wolf, but at least his magic fire is strong enough to go through the water drops.
Since the water is already out, there's no point in holding back anymore. Geralt decides to start using his hand as a flamethrower, only slashing the spiders with his sword if they get too close to him. Soon, the floor is getting slippery with a mix of water and green goo. Small fires keep catching everywhere and the sprinklers do their best to keep them out. Some fabrics are definitely getting lost.
Jaskier isn't taking notes, which is a miracle in itself, but he does keep an eye on the whole situation. Eventually, he forgets he has company and takes just a few steps inside, always eager to admire Geralt in battle. Half a wall has gone down and Jaskier wrinkles his nose in disgust at the sight of all the cobwebs forming huge cocoon eggs in the dark.
"How appropriate of them, to knit their web in the clothing factory," he says sarcastically.
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It’s an absolute shitshow inside the factory as Midge and Joel argue about the situation. Just how long has this been happening? Has he been ignoring it? Joel groans when one of the walls goes down.
“There’s no other way to do this?” he asks in exasperation.
“I guess not,” Midge tells him curtly. “You need to call Moishe.”
“I’m not calling Pop.”
Midge puts her hand up to the chaos in front of them. “You don’t think he’s going to find out about this?”
“Just let me handle this, okay?”
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"If you have any ideas on how to fight poisonous spiders from another world, I'm all ears." His tone is clearly sarcastic, but not even in a joking way - just irritated. "Of course, I can just ask Geralt to leave the cocoons alone. I'm sure your workers would love the decor."
When he turns to Midge, his look softens a little bit, but it's still not the usual adoration in his blue eyes. He's serious. "You're not calling anyone until Geralt is done. I don't even fucking know why you're still here!"
Suddenly, Geralt lets out a painful groan. He's slipped on the mix of goo and water, and a spider used the chance to surprise him from behind.
"GERALT!" Jaskier cries out, and without thinking, he rushes inside.
Thankfully, this spider is the last one, and it's only caught Geralt by surprise because he had thought he was done. Geralt cuts its legs off with his sword before setting it on fire, too. But now there's a poison needle on his shoulder.
Jaskier holds on to the factory machines to avoid slipping, not caring about the water on his hair and clothes or the monster guts on his shoes. He reaches Geralt just in time to catch him before he collapses and puts that very thick arm around his shoulder to keep him steady.
A quick look around reveals everything is covered in poison or the various gooey substances from the spiders' bodies. Jaskier sighs before yelling at the duo by the door- "Can I have a damn clean chair so he can rest?"
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“Does that matter?” Midge replies. “Around the clubs.” It’s vague, but better than telling him that she met Jaskier in jail.
Jaskier’s words sting, even if she presumes he’s just trying to keep her safe. She’s not leaving. She called them in and honestly, she feels like she needs to play referee between them and Joel.
When Geralt gets hurt, she watches Jaskier run to his side. After a moment of hesitation, in which Midge wonders how she gets herself into these situations, she follows. While Joel reluctantly goes to get a chair from his office, Midge sloshes through the water and monster guts to where the two men are standing.
“How can I help?” she asks. “Should I call Yennefer?”
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"Don't touch anything with your bare hands," Geralt tells her, shaking his head when she mentions Yennefer.
Once Joel brings the chair, Jaskier drops Geralt on it and rushes to find remaining pieces of fabric from the cutting tables. Geralt takes a gold potion from his pouch and drinks it before looking at Midge and Joel.
"I have to burn the nest," He points at the hole in the wall with his chin. "And find the sleeping queen inside. Are there pipes or cables in that wall I should know about?" Not wanna risk another explosion. "Is it connected to the neighboring building?"
When Jaskier returns with the fabric, Geralt removes the needle from his shoulder and crushes it with his bare hand - apparently he is allowed to do that, but not humans. Green goo starts coming out of the wound and Jaskier immediately starts cleaning it by pouring another of Geralt's potions on the fabric. He's gentle yet firm, and it's clear he's done this hundreds of times before. The world has disappeared and his attention is only on that fucking wound.
"Mayhaps you'll have to burn this jacket. I don't want it to smell around the house."
It IS starting to smell pretty badly in here, and it's only about to get worse.
The potion is already working its magic, and Geralt speaks again after sighing in relief. "We'll also need containers for the toxic waste. Can't throw these fuckers in the normal trash."
He doesn't want stray animal to feed on it, humans to get hurt, or worse - use it for nasty experiments.
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“No,” he says. “It’s not connected, but there should be electrical lines and water pipes in there. Do you want me to shut off the electricity?”
At the mention of toxic waste, both Midge and Joel look horrified. “I’ll— We’ll wait outside,” she says. “After Joel cuts the power to the building.”
Midge exits and sits down on an empty crate in the alley. She manages to get her shoes off without touching them, leaving them in a pile far away from her. They’re a total write off. Thank goodness they weren’t her favorite.
Joel joins her a few minutes later, his sleeves rolled up, tie loosened and collar open. He blows out a sigh and wipes his face. “Fuck me, Pop is going to have a conniption.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket.
“Give me one of those,” Midge says.
“I thought you were cutting back.”
“I am, but…” She gestures vaguely around them. This shit show calls for a cigarette. Plus, she’s worried about Jaskier and Geralt.
Joel lights two cigarettes and hands one of them to her.
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Usually she doesn't get involved in hunts, but all the toxic shit IS pretty dangerous. Besides, it could be useful for her experiments. So she uses magic to gather every strange liquid in the room -from poison to crushed brains- and bottles it for personal use. The room is still a fucking mess that needs cleaning, but at least, it's a normal mess that humans can handle later.
It takes Jaskier a little over an hour to show up in the alley. He's wet from head to toes, he has taken off his jacket and his sleeves are rolled up, which means his shirt is sticking to his skin. He smells like absolute shit, and even his shoes are making squeaky noises as he walks. And yet, no matter how disgusting he currently is, he wrinkles his nose when he finds Joel and Midge smoking. Priorities.
Jaskier rests his body against the wall, keeping a bit of distance. He lets out a very tired sigh and watches the failed marriage for a second, taking them in before finally speaking up.
"The nest and the spiders are gone. Nothing dangerous of the magical variety is left. The pipes are fine, but some cables were broken on the struggle. So don't bring back the power unless you want a different kind of danger."
For John Walker (juniorvarsitycap)
As she walks the few blocks to The White Lion, Midge wonders what kind of impression that she’s going to make on him. She knows her dress is old-fashioned compared to what women from his time wear. Even if she thinks she looks good, he might think she’s outdated. Since she started talking to John, she’s learned a little bit about him and his team. The internet could provide all of the answers that she needs (what an incredible invention), but she doesn’t search too deeply. Midge will give him a chance to tell her about his past rather than to draw her own conclusions based on a Google search.
He’s waiting outside the pub when she arrives; he’s handsome. She is the picture of a chic woman, if that woman happened to be from 1960.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you look like your picture,” Midge says with a smile.
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The first stop, of course, is to pick up some flowers for the lady. He's not terribly old fashioned, but he figures it's a nice touch she might appreciate. He still loses his bearings a bit when venturing out into the big city, but he finds the place without much trouble, if a little early.
He smiles when she approaches, and holds out the bouquet of colorful daisies. "You've got to look that part when you're all over the internet. You look amazing."
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Even though her purse doesn’t look big enough to hold it, Midge has managed to fit a small bakery box in it. She pulls it out and opens it to show John the cupcake inside. “Saved one for you.” She smiles. “Shall we?”
He opens the door to the pub and they find a table in a quiet corner where they can talk. Midge orders a pint of Guinness (when in Rome) and peruses the menu. “You look nice tonight too, by the way,” she says. What’s considered to be dressing up has gotten much more casual than it was in her time, but she takes no offense.
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As they approach the table he holds her chair out for her, then settles across from her. His drink order matches hers. The menu garners some attention, but his focus is mostly on her and how fantastic she looks.
He blushes slightly. "I feel a bit too casual now. I hope you'll forgive me." Then he smiles. "I'll make it up to you by not telling anymore jokes."
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“I actually enjoy corny jokes,” Midge continues. “‘Dad jokes’ you called them. I don’t consider them comedy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t laugh at them.”
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The menu is pretty standard pub fare, which is nice. It's reliable and that's good for a first date. God, when was the last time he was on a date?
"See anything you like?"
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Midge has been on several first dates lately, most of which have been terrible. This one is already better than all of them. “You know, I haven’t had steak and fries in forever, so I think that’s what I’m going to go with,” she tells him.
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He’ll be here all night, folks.
Their server arrives. “Steak frites for the lady and I will have the Shepherd’s Pie.” That done he relaxes in his seat a little, looking over at her.
“Midge. Is that a nickname?”
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The server brings their beers as well and Midge takes a sip. She hasn’t had a Guinness in a long time.
“It is,” she confirms. “My name is Miriam, but only my parents call me that. And my manager, sometimes.”
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“Miriam is a lovely name. Is Midge from childhood or something more recent?” He’s genuinely curious. He’s always been just John. Or Captain in various forms over the years.
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She really does enjoy a good stupid joke though.
“I picked Midge in high school because Miriam sounded old-fashioned. Midge is technically a nickname for Margaret, but I didn’t care. Do you have any nicknames? Ones from the military?”
She knows that’s a common occurrence.
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He shakes his head. “Nah, we weren’t that kind of group. I was Walker, or Captain, depending on who you were. My friends just called me John. These days it’s pretty much the same, except I’m not a captain anymore.”
He stretches out his legs a bit, a foot nudging hers. “Kids with their dad tonight?”
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“Captain was your rank, right?” she asks. “Not just because of Captain America?”
When his foot brushes against hers, she feels a surge of pleasure go through her body. Instead of moving her foot, she leaves it right where it is. “My parents are watching them. That’s the one benefit of having them live with me.”
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“My rank, yeah. Probably part of the reason being Captain America was so tempting.” Among other things, of course.
He looks at her thoughtfully. “I couldn’t live with my parents again. Great people, but we needed our own space. Then I needed mine.”
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She takes a sip of her beer. “People can still call you Captain then, right?” she asks. From her limited military knowledge, she knows that soldiers can still use their ranks after retirement. Maybe he wants to avoid it after the whole Captain America debacle.
Midge sits back, examining him. “Let’s see… I seem to recall a few other things in my cursory Google search about you…” She taps her chin. “Something about two medals of honor…”
She knows it was three but wants to allow him to brag a little bit. Purposely, she didn’t click on anything related to how he lost the title of Captain America.
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"That chapter in my life is over. I'm starting something fresh with my new team." At least, that's what he hopes will happen. "Back to being just John." Then he smiles. "Three medals of honor, but somehow, I think you knew that. Yeah, the army was good to me."
And he was good for the army. What happened after, well, that's where all the trouble began. His smile disappears thinking about that.
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“Oh, was it three?” Midge pretends to look surprised. “Yes, that’s right. I did read that. First person to ever get three Medals of Honor.”
That’s pretty impressive. Midge wonders if it seems bittersweet to him now, especially as his smile fades.
“More like the other way around,” she says, inadvertently reading his thoughts.
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"It's three." He's got a small smile back and he nudges her foot intentionally this time. "Yeah, it's not really all that important." Not for what he had to do to get them. "It was mutually beneficial. Until it wasn't."
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That’s maybe unfair, but it was too good of a quip not to make. Midge lets out a deep breath. “You ready to tell me about what happened?”
Even if the food hasn’t come yet, at least they’ve got their alcohol.
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“You ready to hear it?”
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She gets comfortable in her chair. This probably isn’t a good story, nor one that presents John in a positive light. Midge actually thinks it’s pretty brave of him to tell it on what is essentially their first date. Her plan is to try to listen without judgment until he finishes the whole story.
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"The first thing you need to know is Lemar Hoskins. My best friend, on the football team with me, joined the army with me, we were stationed together, and he was the Battlestar to my Captain America."
He's clearly important.
"Our first mission was to take down a group of terrorists who had been attacking government aid camps and stealing supplies and we were getting our asses kicked. Turns out they had found a formula and were all super soldiers. We couldn't take them on and win. So when I found a vial of the formula I took it to even the playing field."
He takes a sip of beer and looks over at her. "You with me?"
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That sounds risky. Midge doesn’t even eat Cheerios off of the floor, let alone take vials of what may or may not be a highly dangerous substance that you don’t know how your body will react to.
But, it sounds as if he and Hoskins were desperate.
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He has to stop for a minute, face blank and eyes shifted well away from her face.
"They knew what they'd done and they ran. She got away. I chased one of them down and... I killed him. It wasn't pretty. It also was in the middle of the town square and a lot of people got the whole thing live on video. Government didn't like that part."
More back to himself, he looks back at her with a mirthless smile. "Got fired over that. Took away all my army benefits. Everything. No more Captain for me."
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By all accounts, that man was his best friend, one who had been through everything with him. Losing him must have been horrible.
“Why did you kill him? I mean… I understand why. Did you lose control?”
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"You can look it up if you want. It's still out there. I'm surprised you haven't already."
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It’s not great. Video of him killing a man as Captain America (which is not something she wants to watch, by the way). But, it’s not like the guy was an innocent bystander. Midge may not approve, but she can understand. That decision ruined his life. She won’t even ask him if he regrets it because surely he does.
“Thank you for telling me.” She wonders, briefly, if she ought to be afraid of him, though she hasn’t seen any of the rage that he says he exhibited in that moment. “After that, you… tried to move on?”
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“Tried, yeah. I got a new job. Clean up. Given my skill set you can probably guess what that was all about. I don’t do it anymore. But it brought in income, which we needed when we decided to have a baby.”
Shockingly, the baby didn’t fix everything. Who knew?
“He’s amazing. I was still angry, mourning and probably depressed when he was born. I wasn’t the most attentive father. Olivia finally had enough and left me.” Because now that’s he’s told her the worst, he might as well cop to everything else. “It’s been rough. Not exactly a great catch anymore, am I?”
That right there is her cue to get out while she still can.
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Midge shrugs almost imperceptibly, then takes a deep breath. “This isn’t the same by any stretch of the imagination, but I know what it’s like to think that you’ve done everything right and still lose everything. My ex-husband cheated on me with his secretary. That’s what ended our marriage.”
Not the same as killing someone while representing the US government, but that’s the baggage that she carries around.
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Their food finally arrives, though he’s almost lost his appetite. Almost. He orders another beer and when it comes shortly after he holds the glass up to her.
“To divorce.”
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Midge holds up her glass and toasts to that. “To divorce.”
She cuts into her steak and it looks to be the perfect amount of rareness. Under the table, she gives his foot a little kick.
John gave her a chance to cut and run, but she’s still here.
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"How's the steak look?"
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“Perfect.” She cuts a piece and eats it. “Delicious. How’s yours?”
It’s such a normal conversation after both of them unloaded their baggage. Maybe each others’ baggage isn’t such a big deal to the other person.
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“It’s great. Nice little place you picked out.”
Their baggage matters. Just not maybe as much as they thought it would. Hers? A piece of cake as far as he’s concerned. If this gets serious, he’ll happily be faithful to her. He can be a jackass, but not in that way.
He’s pretty sure what he told her hasn’t really sunk in yet, and that when it does she’ll run. So he’s just going to enjoy tonight for the first date that it is.
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Point being, she was okay with him being a killer. It’s not great that he killed a man in a blind rage, and Midge will watch for signs, but she doesn’t get the impression that he would hurt her.
“Thanks. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.” She glances up at him. “What about now? Are you happy with the job you’re doing with the New Avengers?”
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But he is a military man through and through, even if that part of his life is over now. He may not wear his dogtags like some people do, but he's still got them on his dresser in his room. Still, he's not proud of much of what he did.
"What, you don't bring all your dates here?" He teases and then nods. "I'm happy enough that I'm doing it. We haven't done much yet, but there's plenty of crime to stop."
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“I’m sure. How do you feel about funny housewives being arrested for obscenity?”
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"You're kidding. Are you a bad girl, Midge?"
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It’s not as if she’s shouting it in the streets. Saying it on stage at a comedy club patronized by adults only shouldn’t be illegal.