Jaskier's startled by the sudden touch but it only lasts a second - he quickly relaxes into her hug and leans back to kiss her cheek. Her hand, however, closes the notebook. He doesn't like it when people look at his unfinished writing.
"Trying to find a way to describe your tits in a way that makes their beauty justice."
"An ode to my goddess," he replies as he moves his chair back a little to bring Midge to his lap. After drinking some of the water, he talks again. "I must be careful, though. I can't have Susie asking for profits over your persona."
He gasps when he realizes something. "I haven't introduced you!" He lifts the shawl that is covering something big on the back of his desk to reveal a typewriter. It stands next to pens but also quills and ink bottles, so everything together makes for a funny historial sight.
“Oh really?” Midge grins. That’s actually so sweet. “Do you need help coming up with words that rhyme with ‘tits’?” She settles into his lap. “You’re right. Susie would probably want her cut.”
The typewriter is a nice modern version, even if the ink bottles and quills make Midge think of Shakespeare. “Nice to meet her,” she replies. “I’ll try not to be jealous over the time you spend together. How’s your typing going? Does it make your writing go faster?”
"I'd never use the word 'tits' in a poem," he explains with clear amusement. "More like... the enticing curves of her bosom."
He laughs at the jealousy joke. "It's not faster than my handwriting yet, but I'm getting there, I can feel it. The actual creative process, though? That's the same. Lucky for me..." He kisses her cheek. "I have a great source of inspiration."
"Well, yes." He watches her for a second with his head tilted, curiosity piqued. "Is that something you want? A filthy poem? Full of cocks and cunts and fucks instead of the art of lovemaking?"
She's one of his muses - he isn't about to say that aloud, and he hopes that won't bite his ass in the future. "Have I not recited enough poetry while fucking you to prove it?" he teases while nuzzling her hair. "I must fix that."
He reaches for one of his quills and dips it in black ink before bringing it to her cleavage. With that pretty and fancy handwriting of his, he writes muse on her left breast. It's supposed to go on the heart.
“Well, you know me. I wouldn’t mind a dirty poem. But the idea of you writing something romantic for me is very appealing.” As much as she loves the sex, Midge can’t turn down a bit of romance.
“You have,” she admits, while watching what he does with the quill. “Does that one inspire you more than the other one?” she jokes.
"It would, indeed, be an interesting challenge to tackle. What about you, then?" he asks with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Would you be able to tell a naughty joke more poetically?" Two can play this game!
He smiles into the kiss, happily kissing her back while his hand moves the robe from her lap. He isn't trying to do anything naughty, though - when the kiss breaks, he writes a poem on her thigh.
I reach your heated, wet cunt and start to play with your clit. You moan in delight, arching your back, begging me not to quit.
Midge looks down at what he’s writing on her thigh.
“I’m going to have to take a shower before I leave tomorrow morning,” she says. “Although, I probably was going to have to take a shower anyway. I usually need one after you’ve thoroughly fucked me.”
Jaskier pouts. "I write poetry for you, let the art of my words combine with the art of your beauty on your soft skin, and here you are, already thinking of washing it off!"
The nerve! The scandal! The offense!
"You would've taken a shower even if I hadn't fucked you. I refuse to believe you leave the house with bed hair."
“So rude of me, I know,” Midge replies with a shake of her head, “unless you want my parents to read your beautiful poetry when I get home.” Probably not.
She smooths her hair down at the mention of it. “I would have stolen a scarf from you.”
He’s right though. She prefers not to go out with less than fantastic hair.
That actually makes him smile with mischief. "Can you imagine your mother's face?" His tone says he loves the mental image.
He then throws a hand in the air, a bit frustrated - half serious, half dramatics. "More clothes stolen! You truly have been after my wardrobe the whole time!"
“She’d be mortified,” Midge says with a little smile. “You love causing trouble, don’t you?” That shouldn’t be much of a revelation.
Midge blinks at him. “Don’t your clothes look cute on me though?” she asks. Is he really mad about this? “I haven’t taken anything. I just want one bard shirt because they’re comfortable and I like that it’s yours.”
"What's that thing you say around here? I plead the fifth?" He doesn't understand the actual reference but he learnt the casual meaning. That's enough, right?
"They do, they do," he says with a very dramatic sigh. "It's unfair, darling. You just want to use it to drive me crazy. Very evil of you."
Midge shakes her head. “You’re right to try to protect yourself from self-incrimination, my naughty little bard.”
She kisses his cheek, then picks up his quill and dips it in the ink.
“Simple solution. I’ll just take the shirt and then never wear it around you. Then you don’t have to be tempted by how absolutely adorable I look.”
Midge starts to doodle on a piece of scrap paper, writing ‘M + J’ and then drawing a heart around the letters. She draws two stick figures holding hands.
"So I lose a shirt but don't even get an orgasm out of it? I feel like I'm being scammed here!"
He makes a little aww sound at her drawing and grabs another quill to decorate it: the Midge stick figure gets a long skirt, a hat, and a microphone in her hand; the Jaskier stick figure gets a lute on his back and a long coat.
“Oh, so first I’m evil and now you want orgasms? Make up your mind!”
Midge grins at his additions to the stick figures. She starts to draw on their hair.
“Are you ready for the wedding?”
Maybe it’s a loaded topic, though Midge hopes that he’s feeling better about it, now that they’re officially a couple. The fact that he views it as a gig is probably also helping.
"Both things can be true! Evil women can give orgasms, too! It's probably happening right now down the hall!"
Jaskier's surprised that she brings the subject up, but not bothered. Now that they're an official couple, going together to the wedding doesn't have ~implications~ anymore. He still doesn't look forward to dealing with her family, but thinking of it as a gig does indeed help: it means more time on the stage away from bigots.
"Of course! Outfits are ready, and rehearsals are going great. A few of my songs are still getting some revisions, but that's just my usual process. Have you talked to your cousin? We're getting a nice room?"
“You’ll be incredible. Leah doesn’t deserve how good you’re going to be.” She grins at him. “Oh yes. A nice, big room together. She was shocked when I told her that you and I would be staying together.”
"She doesn't. And I'm sure you'll be letting her know," he says with a big grin, obviously not minding the idea. Midge can show him off and rub it on their relatives' noses all she wants.
"Shocked, huh? So the news isn't traveling fast?" There's a pause as he wonders if Rose and Abe have been avoiding talking about Midge's new boyfriend on purpose. Oh well, here goes nothing. "How have your parents been about this, by the way?"
Midge will definitely be showing him off. She can’t wait to dance with him at the party and let everybody see what a hottie she’s snagged.
“It’ll travel fast now that Leah knows,” she replies. At the mention of her parents, Midge hesitates. “They’re… skeptically supportive.”
That’s a good description for how they’ve been taking the revelation that Midge and Jaskier are dating. They want to support her and want her to be happy, but are skeptical that Jaskier will be the one to do so.
“They want to meet with you again. I told them we’d spend time together at the wedding.”
That should give Midge enough time to figure out a plan where everyone will get along.
Skeptically supportive is just a nice way to say they don't like him, which Jaskier already knows. At least, it doesn't sound like they're giving her a hard time, so thank goodness for little favours. Although he can't help but wonder if Midge is softening the story not to worry him.
A mumbled fuck escapes his lips when she says her parents want to meet him again. He should've expected it, and it's probably better for it to happen before something like a birthday or Hanukkah, but that doesn't mean he's looking forward to it.
"Does that mean your brother will act as buffer?" he asks while cleaning the tips of the quills. "The wedding is on Sunday and we have the rehearsal on Saturday, correct? Are you sure you don't want to go on Friday to have more time to ourselves? I imagine Joel is keeping the kids for the weekend."
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"Trying to find a way to describe your tits in a way that makes their beauty justice."
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“Hmmmm… I guess it depends on what you’re writing. Is it a song? A poem? A racy novel?”
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He gasps when he realizes something. "I haven't introduced you!" He lifts the shawl that is covering something big on the back of his desk to reveal a typewriter. It stands next to pens but also quills and ink bottles, so everything together makes for a funny historial sight.
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The typewriter is a nice modern version, even if the ink bottles and quills make Midge think of Shakespeare. “Nice to meet her,” she replies. “I’ll try not to be jealous over the time you spend together. How’s your typing going? Does it make your writing go faster?”
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He laughs at the jealousy joke. "It's not faster than my handwriting yet, but I'm getting there, I can feel it. The actual creative process, though? That's the same. Lucky for me..." He kisses her cheek. "I have a great source of inspiration."
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Midge rests her head on his shoulder. “Am I really your muse?” The idea of that makes her feel warm inside.
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She's one of his muses - he isn't about to say that aloud, and he hopes that won't bite his ass in the future. "Have I not recited enough poetry while fucking you to prove it?" he teases while nuzzling her hair. "I must fix that."
He reaches for one of his quills and dips it in black ink before bringing it to her cleavage. With that pretty and fancy handwriting of his, he writes muse on her left breast. It's supposed to go on the heart.
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“You have,” she admits, while watching what he does with the quill. “Does that one inspire you more than the other one?” she jokes.
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He laughs pretty hard. "It's on your heart! You wanted romance! Here--" He writes funny on her other breast. "Better? No more jealousy between tits?"
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She smiles and poses for him with the writing on both breasts. “Perfect. And I think you’re very romantic, Jaskier.”
Leaning in, she gives him a gentle kiss.
(by Joelene Pitt)
He smiles into the kiss, happily kissing her back while his hand moves the robe from her lap. He isn't trying to do anything naughty, though - when the kiss breaks, he writes a poem on her thigh.
I reach your heated, wet cunt and start to play with your clit.
You moan in delight, arching your back, begging me not to quit.
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Midge looks down at what he’s writing on her thigh.
“I’m going to have to take a shower before I leave tomorrow morning,” she says. “Although, I probably was going to have to take a shower anyway. I usually need one after you’ve thoroughly fucked me.”
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The nerve! The scandal! The offense!
"You would've taken a shower even if I hadn't fucked you. I refuse to believe you leave the house with bed hair."
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She smooths her hair down at the mention of it. “I would have stolen a scarf from you.”
He’s right though. She prefers not to go out with less than fantastic hair.
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He then throws a hand in the air, a bit frustrated - half serious, half dramatics. "More clothes stolen! You truly have been after my wardrobe the whole time!"
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Midge blinks at him. “Don’t your clothes look cute on me though?” she asks. Is he really mad about this? “I haven’t taken anything. I just want one bard shirt because they’re comfortable and I like that it’s yours.”
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"They do, they do," he says with a very dramatic sigh. "It's unfair, darling. You just want to use it to drive me crazy. Very evil of you."
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She kisses his cheek, then picks up his quill and dips it in the ink.
“Simple solution. I’ll just take the shirt and then never wear it around you. Then you don’t have to be tempted by how absolutely adorable I look.”
Midge starts to doodle on a piece of scrap paper, writing ‘M + J’ and then drawing a heart around the letters. She draws two stick figures holding hands.
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He makes a little aww sound at her drawing and grabs another quill to decorate it: the Midge stick figure gets a long skirt, a hat, and a microphone in her hand; the Jaskier stick figure gets a lute on his back and a long coat.
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Midge grins at his additions to the stick figures. She starts to draw on their hair.
“Are you ready for the wedding?”
Maybe it’s a loaded topic, though Midge hopes that he’s feeling better about it, now that they’re officially a couple. The fact that he views it as a gig is probably also helping.
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Jaskier's surprised that she brings the subject up, but not bothered. Now that they're an official couple, going together to the wedding doesn't have ~implications~ anymore. He still doesn't look forward to dealing with her family, but thinking of it as a gig does indeed help: it means more time on the stage away from bigots.
"Of course! Outfits are ready, and rehearsals are going great. A few of my songs are still getting some revisions, but that's just my usual process. Have you talked to your cousin? We're getting a nice room?"
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“You’ll be incredible. Leah doesn’t deserve how good you’re going to be.” She grins at him. “Oh yes. A nice, big room together. She was shocked when I told her that you and I would be staying together.”
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"Shocked, huh? So the news isn't traveling fast?" There's a pause as he wonders if Rose and Abe have been avoiding talking about Midge's new boyfriend on purpose. Oh well, here goes nothing. "How have your parents been about this, by the way?"
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“It’ll travel fast now that Leah knows,” she replies. At the mention of her parents, Midge hesitates. “They’re… skeptically supportive.”
That’s a good description for how they’ve been taking the revelation that Midge and Jaskier are dating. They want to support her and want her to be happy, but are skeptical that Jaskier will be the one to do so.
“They want to meet with you again. I told them we’d spend time together at the wedding.”
That should give Midge enough time to figure out a plan where everyone will get along.
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A mumbled fuck escapes his lips when she says her parents want to meet him again. He should've expected it, and it's probably better for it to happen before something like a birthday or Hanukkah, but that doesn't mean he's looking forward to it.
"Does that mean your brother will act as buffer?" he asks while cleaning the tips of the quills. "The wedding is on Sunday and we have the rehearsal on Saturday, correct? Are you sure you don't want to go on Friday to have more time to ourselves? I imagine Joel is keeping the kids for the weekend."
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Why do I feel like this conversation is going to end badly?
time to make popcorn
welp
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