i keep thinking of the interactions b/t Kate and Penelope and their two husbands who don't want to be anywhere except with them literally all the time, and the two of them getting together both amused, but in need of at least 10 minutes without their golden retriever husbands
"How long do you think we have?"
Kate set her teaspoon on saucer with a sigh. "However long it takes our husbands to convince Violet to watch Edmund and Eliot, which I imagine won't be long at all."
Penelope took a sip of the spicy chai Kate had brewed for them before she spoke again. "We should've gone elsewhere."
"Where could we go that our husbands would not come charging after us?"
"A visit to Daphne?"
Kate shook her head. "She's nearing the end of her confinement and her last letter said that Simon is...hovering."
Penelope giggled. "Oh bother! Are we ever to–"
The door to the rarely used downstairs parlor burst open. Anthony managed to enter first side-stepping Colin's attempt to edge his way through the door.
"Ah, wife. Sister," Anthony tipped his head toward them. "I see we're in time for tea."
I might have mentioned this already, but a while ago I was clearing files off an old laptop and found a Haikyuu!! fic I started ages ago, shortly after the manga wrapped up. I'd been dying to read some post-time-skip stories about a specific character, and wasn't loving what I'd read about them on AO3, so I had a moment of 'write the fic you want to read'. Only I left off about halfway through (damned ADHD) and forgot all about it.
Since I've been on a sports anime kick lately, though, I decided I would finish the story. And I'm making real progress - it's currently about 30k words with two or three scenes left to write. I'm just a bit anxious about it, because the last time I spent months writing a 30k+ fic for a fandom I'd never written for before, it got zero traction and I felt like I'd wasted over a year of my life working on something no one cared about. So now, as I push through the last part of this story, I'm feeling that same anxiety again - is it worth completing? Is this a good investment of my time, or should I be focusing on other things?
There's nothing especially outstanding about the story - I'm not playing around with narrative style or metaphor beyond one key theme. The only pull is that it's a semi-popular ship and an exploration of a post-time-skip reveal that I haven't seen anyone else do.
I guess I'm just looking for someone to say it's worth it, even if it's not going to be a super popular story when it's finished.
Chapters: 6/6
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Characters: Azumane Asahi, Nishinoya Yuu
Additional Tags: Post-Haikyuu!! Time Skip, Canon Compliant, Fashion Designer Azumane Asahi, GlobalTraveller Nishinoya Yuu, set four years after Asahi graduates Karasuno, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Introspection
Summary:
Nishinoya asks to stay overnight at Asahi's Tokyo apartment before he leaves Japan...and asks the same favour again when he returns two years later, returning to Japan with a lot on his mind.
---
When I opened this old, unfinished fic on my old laptop two months ago, I thought it’d be fun to finish it off. I had maybe two scenes in my head for it. I was not expecting it to turn out nearly novel-length. But here we are. My first ever Haikyuu!! fic. Comments, kudos or reblogs would be oh so very much appreciated.
My worst writing habit is reading my typos out loud, phonetically. I struggle in co-writing groups because no one should have to hear me muttering "FLET" or "SHOUDLER" out loud every few minutes when they're trying to work.
Another ridiculous addition to 'Kate and Penelope hide from their golden retriever husbands', now featuring Michaela Stirling.
"Lady Bridgerton, thank you for inviting me for tea."
Kate smiled. "You are very welcome, and how many times must I insist you call me Kate?"
Michaela smiled and tipped her teacup in Kate's direction. "As always, just one more time, my lady."
"I'm so glad you've returned with your cousin and Francesca," Kate said, trying to ignore the heat that suffused her cheeks. "Penelope and I have been bereft without the usual company of ladies."
"Truly," Penelope agreed. "Your letters have been so lovely, but I look forward to getting to know you better."
"I must admit," Michaela began, her smile turning wry as she observed the two women before her. "Frannie's tales of you both, in addition to the stories of her brothers, have given me nothing but the desire to learn more. For example, my lady, what room are we currently in and...why?"
Kate laughed. "These are the Vicountess's chambers and seldom used."
Michaela looked around the well-appointed room and noticed that it lacked everything that would distinguish it as a bedroom. In its place were setees of various sizes, gorgeous drapings, and an easel with a remarkable rendering of the vast gardens of Aubrey Hall.
"Not that I mind, of course," said Michaela. "But Aubrey Hall has a great many drawing and sitting rooms, does it not?"
"Indeed it does," answered Penelope. "All the more reason for us to enjoy your company and our tea here. It will take them even longer to find us."
"Who?" Michaela asked.
"Our husbands," Kate replied. She tipped her cup at Michaela and sighed.
Michaela's lips formed an attractive frown as her eyes darted between the two Bridgerton wives. "And why, may I ask, are you hiding from them?"
"Not hiding, exactly," Penelope trilled. "Simply...gaining some respite."
"Our husbands are the very best of men," Kate started. "But they're also...always around."
Michaela held in a laugh. "I see. And your husband isn't likely to look in here, my lady?"
Kate shook her head. "I doubt he remembers this room exists. Before we married, Anthony didn't use the Viscount's rooms in Aubrey or Bridgerton House. Once we married, he directed me to do whatever I'd like with the Vicountess's rooms and made it clear that whatever room I took up, that's where he'd be as well."
"And Mr. Bridgerton?" Michaela asked Penelope.
She shrugged. "They'll only search together for fear of one of them finding us alone and not telling the other."
This time, Michaela didn't attempt to smother her laughter. "I must say, I am thoroughly enjoying getting to know you, Bridgertons."
A/N: Bridgerton has me in shambles, and so, here's this Colin dream series based solely upon the line "dreaming of you when I'm asleep, and in fact preferring sleep because that is where I might find you." I hope you enjoy it.
Colin didn't know how long he lingered in the Featherington garden once Penelope had disappeared or what he'd hoped for as he stood there—heart racing, skin electrified, lips throbbing from that kiss.
He walked home in a daze, grateful that he didn't encounter any of his family on his way back to his room. He closed his door with a quiet snick and shed his coat, cravat, and waistcoat before he sat on the edge of his bed.
He trailed his fingers across his lips and held back a groan at the reminder of how she felt against them. Her breath was sweet and warm, her soft lips, the lushness of her breasts against his knuckles as she breathed and sighed against his mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispered the the empty room. He scrubbed a hand across his face before pulling him off his boots.
He unbuttoned the placket of the front of his pants, carelessly kicking them to the side once they made it to his ankles. He anticipated a stern look from his valet in the morning but couldn't bring himself to care.
Her lips had been so soft. Her movements were tentative and sweet and god how was he to think of anything else?
He removed his shirt and his smalls and slid between the turned-down covers of his bed. He shut his eyes and pictured the soft wave of her hair, the brightness of her eyes, lush pink lips parted and whispering ‘please.’
Read on AO3
He groaned as his body tightened and his cock twitched. In all the places he'd been that summer, no one — not one woman — he'd touched, teased, or kissed had made his heart race like this, made his body react like this. No one had left him aching this way.
It wasn't like turning a page; it felt like he'd started a whole new book. He recognized her — sweet, achingly beautiful, tempting — but he didn't recognize himself.
How could something so simple shake him so wholly?
He turned and punched his pillow into a better shape before reclining once more.
“I should've had a glass of whisky,” he muttered and shut his eyes again, hoping to forget these sudden feelings.
Surely it was nothing more than the hour, the moonlight and her whispered ask that had bewitched him.
Yes, that was quite what it was.
C&P&C&P
He opened the door to his study and found her there, his journal in hand, her lithe fingers clinging to the edges of the well-worn pages.
“Pen? Were you reading that?”
She gasped and dropped the journal to the desk, and took a step back.
“N-no. I did not mean to.”
He advanced further into the room. “You did not mean to pick up my journal and read it?”
“No,” she began, her cheeks filling with color. “I did. But I should not have.”
“No, you should not. Whatever you read was not meant for another's eyes.”
He reached the desk, closed the journal, picked it up, and held it behind his back.
“What did you see?” he asked moving closer to her. He noticed how her eyes widened, and how her pulse jumped in her neck. She did not move away from him when he took another step closer.
“Um,” she began. Her tongue darted out to wet her top lip. The motion made Colin’s gut clench.
“I read about…your time in Le Marais. It sounded…Colin, your writing is very good.”
He pressed her. “What about it did you like?”
“I could see the whole scene,” she replied, eyes bright, lips curled into a gentle smile. “It felt like I was walking alongside you. You don't know how difficult that is to do.”
Colin turned his head to break their gaze. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” she said softly. “And I am sorry, again, for invading your privacy. I should probably be going, I—”
“Would you like to read more?” he blurted. He didn't know why he asked that, but he didn't want her to leave. Not yet.
“I would, but Colin—”
He brought the journal from behind his back and held it between them. She reached out a tentative hand and grasped its spine gently in her hands.
Colin let go, but he didn't take a step back. He watched as she opened the journal, found the ribbon inside, and carefully turned to the pages she'd previously been on.
Her bottom lip curled into her mouth, her teeth abrading the delicate flesh. Colin’s mouth dropped open as his eyes followed the movement.
She focused solely on the pages, her gloved hand delicately turning to the next page. Her breath hitched and he wondered what part made her do so, but he was too busy observing the result of her quickening breaths.
Her chest rose and fell with greater frequency making her breasts — beautiful, bountiful, buxom — push against the bodice of her gown. His fingers itched to touch them, to find out if they were as soft as they looked, to know what kind of sound she would make when his lips nipped at the ample offering.
He became undone when she let out a little sigh, her bottom lip now so deeply red from the abuse of her teeth. And he had to know…he just had to.
“Penelope,” he murmured. He covered her hand at the edge of his journal and flipped it shut. He gently removed it from her grip and tossed it onto his desk without a care in the world.
He stepped closer to her, which made her head tilt further back to keep her eyes on his. She trembled but didn't step away from him, the movement doing the most delectable thing to her décolletage.
He swallowed hard. “Can I…can I kiss you?”
Her eyes grew impossibly wider. “What?”
“Can I kiss you?” he repeated. “Please.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Are you…I mean, I would…do you really want to—”
“Yes,” he whispered. He cupped her round cheek and brushed his thumb across her slick bottom lip. “Yes.”
Her hot breath on his thumb caused sweat to gather across his upper lip. When she looked at him and nodded, it took every ounce of his control not to seize her lips and never part from them again.
Instead, he moved slowly, not wanting the fervor he felt at that moment to overwhelm her before he could start.
As soon as his lips met hers, the world around them fell away. He was nothing more than this moment, her soft lips, her warm skin against his hand, the sigh she released against his mouth.
He kissed her gently at first, tasting the tartness of the lemonade they'd shared along with something else so sweet he thought he'd ascended to the mountain of the gods and tasted ambrosia for the first time.
He licked along the seam of her lips, teased her mouth open, and tilted her head back to give him more. He groaned and pulled her closer with his other arm when her tentative tongue touched his. God! How could he have thought anything could ever match this?
He pulled back from her lips and ran his own down the side of her neck before being caught by the pretty pink tulle that decorated her neck. He found the bow, and with a gentle tug, removed the offending fabric, and sent his lips to work again along her throat.
“Colin,” she whimpered. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders. Her head was ripped back so far he started to worry she would topple over when he felt her body sway beneath him.
He pulled away from the reddening skin of her neck to turn them around. “Up,” he commanded, then didn't wait for her to comply alone, grabbing her by the waist and settling her atop his desk.
“Colin!” she giggled, then moaned when his teeth nipped at the skin of her shoulder.
His teeth nipped at her soft, pale skin, moving from her shoulder to the start of the swell of her left breast. Her breath was coming so fast that he stopped and looked up at her to ensure she was okay.
She nodded and brought her thumb to his lips. Her gloves tickled his face and he wanted to rip them from her skin. He licked the pad of her thumb through the netting of her glove, taking in the salt of her skin before he kissed the middle of her palm.
“I've got you,” he said. Then his lips were back at her breasts, his fingers pushed at the puffy sleeve drawing it down her shoulder. It exposed more of the roundness of her breasts — which begged for his mouth and he happily obliged — but he wanted more. He needed to know the color of her nipples: would they be a dusky rose or a starker pink like her mouth? He’d have to contend with buttons, stays, and a corset to see, but he was so willing.
He licked along the seam of her cleavage to the breast he hadn't teased, his fingers inside the gaping bodice of her dress. How was she this soft?
“Beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. He opened his hands and squeezed her breasts, pushing them together to get more of her in his mouth at once.
She threw back her head and moaned and Colin knew in that instant nothing in the world would ever surpass that sound.
She pulled at his hair and brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him wildly, with no technique but more enthusiasm than he'd experienced yet in life. He needed more of her. He needed all of her.
“Can I see you, Pen? Can I see all of you?”
She blushed prettily and opened her mouth to reply, but issued nothing but a knocking sound.
Colin reeled back and looked at her. “What did you say?”
Again, he opened her mouth and the clunking noise of knuckles on wood burst forth, more harried this time.
C&P&C&P
The knock sounded again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Mr. Bridgerton, sir. You will be late for the appointment you set with Lord Bridgerton’s solicitor if you are still abed.”
Colin groaned. He called out to his valet to let him know he was awake and he could run his bath.
He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, his heart racing, and his cock was harder than he could ever remember it being.
He rolled on his back, brought his hand to his mouth spit into his palm, then closed his eyes as he took himself in hand. He gripped his length and shuddered at the pressure, how real his lips had felt on her incredible breasts, my god would they be that heavy in his hands?
He pulled at his cock faster, his grip tightening as his dream flooded back into his waking memory. His leaking tip added more slickness to his pulls which grew harder and more erratic.
“Pen,” he breathed out. He ran his tongue across his lips and swore he could still taste her…
That was all it took for his body to go taut and his cock to erupt all over his hand. He eased himself through his orgasm, his cock slowly losing its turgidity.
He was slicker now than when he started and his face felt like it was on fire. How was he supposed to face Penelope now?
