#no buttons to sew back on if the shirts have snaps

[rmd-writes]

TK said, “Baby, you look so sexy in that cowboy shirt, it makes your shoulders look incredible and those pop open buttons would be very convenient,” one time in the changing room and Carlos immediately bought three very similar shirts to make his fiancé happy.

Edit: @howtosingit reminded me of this photo, so that is four near identical shirts that Carlos went out and bought because his fiancé said he looked hot and Carlos was sick of having to sew buttons back onto his button ups

[watchmegetobsessed]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTION

A/N: i couldn't just move on those pics

WORD COUNT: 659

SUMMARY: You're dealing with a bit of a wardrobe malfunction upon arriving to a wedding. At first your boyfriend is no help, but then he saves the day as always.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“Harry! This is not funny!” you groan in frustration, frantically trying to fix your dress with not much luck while your boyfriend seems to be pretty entertained by your bad luck.

“It kind of is,” he chuckles, watching your struggle with a smug grin that’s mostly for your loosely clothed chest area.

You parked down by the wedding’s venue just about ten minutes ago and you leaned forward to grab your purse from the glove compartment when your dress’ seam broke along your side. Well, it burst open, to be precise. You knew the dress was too tight, but it was so pretty, you didn’t want to change into something else and now you’re fucked.

With the dress rolled down around your hips you’ve been trying to figure out how to fix with whatever you have in your purse and in Harry’s car, but aside from one single safety pin, you found nothing that could help and that wouldn’t be enough to hold the fabric together around you for the whole time.

“Would you stop eyeing my boobs and help me?” you snap at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead.

“Okay, first, I thought being your boyfriend meant I can stare at your boobs whenever I want to,” he starts, joking. “And second, I don’t have a sewing kit hidden in my pants, so there’s not much I can do for you, my love.”

You groan in frustration as you let go of the dress and lean back, tears threatening to bubble from your eyes. Now Harry can tell you’re past the jokes so he moves closer and inspects the rip, but he doesn’t get farther than you did.

“I’m not going in there,” you whisper, eyes closed, lips trembling.

“Hey, no need to cry and you will not spend the wedding hidden in the car. Let me think for a second.”

Reaching over he cups your face and gently rubs your cheek with his thumb while you’re trying to regulate your breathing and stop yourself from crying. You’re starting to get used to the thought that you will, in fact, spend this wedding in the car in your ruined dress, but then you hear Harry moving around in his seat and when you open your eyes you see him shrugging his jacket off.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, just throws the jacket to the backseat and then starts unbuttoning the soft yellow colored shirt he is wearing underneath, revealing the white tank top he put on under the shirt.

“Harry?” you ask as he takes the shirt off too and then turns to you.

“Here, put this on. Roll the dress down into a skirt.”

He pulls you forward from the back of the seat so he can drape the shirt around you and help you into it.

“But what will you wear?” you ask, finally moving, slipping your arms into the shirt.

“This and the jacket,” he shrugs, nodding down at his top.

It takes some time to assemble the outfit, you tie a knot on the shirt at your waist, low enough to cover the ruined part of your dress, only showing the skirt of it. Harry helps you roll the sleeves up and fix the buttons before he leans back to look at you.

“There, you look wonderful, baby,” he smiles at you before reaching to the back for his jacket.

“As much as I hate you for laughing at me earlier, I really do love you now,” you sigh with pouty lips as you reach over to him to pull him closer for a kiss.

“Am I forgiven for laughing?” he smirks, putting his jacket back on.

“You’ll have to run some extra miles for that later at home, but we’re alright for now.”

Harry laughs as he gets out of the car, jogging over to your side to help you out before the two of you finally head inside.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Seams drabble: Patch

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: None

Summary: Ellie finds a Pride-themed sew on patch that leads to revelations.

Warnings: Pure fluff and love for this girl, some angst, coming out, total disregard of canon because I don't know how it goes in the game.

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: This idea struck me out of the blue many months ago, and I was waiting for 'the right place' in the series, until I mentioned it to a dear friend in passing conversation and then I just started writing it. Very lightly edited. Set at unspecified time frame after Part IV.

Ellie hums to herself from her spot in a cosy corner of the Outfitters, one watchful eye on the door. It’s an uncharacteristically slow Saturday, but she’s not complaining - she has her hands full.

A big canvas sack lies empty on the floor, its contents strewn haphazardly all over the wooden floor. The mess drives you up the wall, but you know better than to question her (very questionable) methods, so you’re ensconced in the safety of your studio while she sorts through the clothes and odds and ends that the patrollers brought back from their most recent outing.

Though infrequent - most settlements around Jackson have been painstakingly pilfered for anything useful over the years - it’s her favourite duty at the shop. Lucy is looser with the rules, but sometimes, you let Ellie keep little knick knacks that won’t sell.

The teenager goes through the pile thoroughly. Shirts go in one stack, jeans in another, followed by shoes, hats and scarves. Turning to the heap of smaller loose trinkets, she separates mismatched buttons, safety pins, shoelaces and zippers (as Maria always says, every little help), when something colourful piques her attention.

Plucking the piece of fabric out of the jumble, Ellie recognises it as a decorative patch that she’s seen sewn onto bags and shirts. It’s the size of her palm, cut in the shape of a rainbow, the colours still bright. Over the arches, bold white text outlined in black spells out NYC PRIDE 2003.

Tucking it into her pocket for now, she quickly finishes the rest of the sorting. Clothes go into the bin to be collected by the laundry, shoes for the cobbler’s, and accessories into a box to be priced and shelved.

Ambling into the back of the shop where you’re busy hemming a pair of jeans, Ellie plops into one of the rolling chairs, straddling the back of it, and the wheels screech as she careens across the floor to your sewing station.

Your lips quirk as you look up briefly at her. ‘Find anything interesting?’

‘Just this,’ she replies, flashing you the patch and reading aloud, ‘NYC Pride 2003. What does that mean?’

‘There used to be a big pride parade for the LGBT community every year in New York City,’ you explain. ‘They used to close down the streets and everything for it, it was a huge event.’

Ellie blinks, your answer taking her by surprise. She clears her throat, a distant buzzing at the back of her head as she turns the patch over pensively in her hand. ‘What - do you know what it was like?’

‘I’ve never been to one, but it always looked incredible. People used to line the streets in support, and everyone dressed up. There’d be rainbow flags everywhere, floats, dancing, music, and of course, it was an important way for the community to highlight and push for LGBT rights.’

‘You mean -’ she pauses, the unfamiliar feeling of stumbling over her words making her hands sweat. ‘You mean, people would just be out in public, like, being themselves?’

‘More than that - they were celebrating themselves.’

Ellie doesn’t realise she’s fallen quiet until you speak, ‘You can keep it if you want.’

Her head snaps up, disoriented. ‘Keep what?’

‘That.’ You nod towards the patch she’s clinging onto so tightly that her knuckles have gone white.

Panic prickles the back of her neck, an embarrassed heat suddenly making her want to pull at the collar of her flannel. But then you shrug and say, almost flippantly, ‘It’s pretty.’

‘Yes,’ she blurts out in hasty agreement, letting out a breath she’s been unconsciously holding. ‘It’s very pretty.’

Ellie is relieved when you turn back to the sewing machine, leaving her to retrace her steps to the front of the shop. The patch sits on the counter, where she leaves it, as she goes about her business for the rest of her shift.

Her eyes travel to the rainbow, and she thinks of how she wasn’t like the other girls at school, who fawned over dogeared photos of singers and actors long dead. She thinks of how she’s always known she’s different, but didn’t have the vocabulary to express it.

She thinks of Riley.

Riley.

For Riley.

When half three rolls around, you spot the teenager lingering by the studio doorway out of the corner of your eye, her backpack dangling from her fingers. Any other Saturday, you’d be lucky to catch the blurry shape of her shadow when she gallops out of the shop, throwing a see ya over her shoulder.

Thrown by her silence, you prompt, ‘Yes, Ellie?’

Scruffing the tips of her well-worn sneakers on the floorboards, she bites her lip in an atypical display of hesitance. ‘Pin, could you help me sew the patch onto my backpack? Please?’

You smile, eyes soft. ‘I’d love to. C’mon.’

‘You don’t have to do it now,’ she protests, feigning nonchalance, but her twitchy hands give her away. ‘Like, whatever, it’s no big deal.’

Wanting to put her at ease, you shrug. ‘No time like the present. Where do you want it?’

Putting her bag on your work surface, she points. ‘Guess right here under the wings.’

‘Perfect. Can you unzip the bag for me?’

You have Ellie hold the rainbow exactly where she wants it while you thread the needle, and you start sewing it in by hand, stitch by tidy stitch. It barely takes a couple of minutes, but time is of the essence - you haven’t heard the girl take a single breath of air since the anchor stitch.

Snipping off the thread with a flourish and giving it a once over, you grin. ‘There, all done.’

Ellie ducks her head, quiet as she takes the bag from your hands, running a thumb over the arches of the rainbow. Without a word, she suddenly throws her arms around you, hugging you tight.

‘Thanks, Pin,’ she mumbles into your hair.

Your heart swells, and you squeeze her back even tighter. ‘Anything for you, kiddo.’

On Monday morning, Ellie hovers in the hallway outside the kitchen, observing.

Joel is at the table, oblivious with his back to the door, her breakfast of two fried eggs over and easy and toast waiting at her usual spot at the table. Taking a deep breath, she bites the bullet and walks in, backpack in her hand.

‘Mornin’,’ grunts Joel, almost done with his own eggs, sunny side up.

‘Morning,’ she parrots back as she makes herself comfortable.

She usually just dumps her bag on the floor, but today, she pulls out the chair next to her and drops it into the seat. The unusual movement catches Joel’s eye, and he takes a good long look at the backpack.

Eventually, he points vaguely in what she assumes is the direction of the rainbow patch, and says, ‘That looks new.’

‘Yup, Pin helped me sew it on.’

He purses his lips, asking around a mouthful of egg. ‘You know what Pride is?’

She swallows thickly, and it takes a beat to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. ‘Yeah, Pin told me.’

He nods, then turns his attention back to his plate with no fanfare.

Not entirely sure if he caught the nuance but her mind too in knots to care, Ellie picks up her fork and doesn’t think twice when he gets up to put his dish in the sink.

She nearly chokes on eggs when strong arms close around her shoulders in a vice-like grip, scratchy beard on her temple, Joel’s voice so thick that it makes her think if she turns around, she’ll see tears in his eyes.

‘Proud of you, baby girl.���

Later that afternoon, Joel finds you alone in the shop, restocking the women’s outerwear rack.

You toss him a smile over your shoulder. ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’

‘Lucy ‘round?’ he asks.

‘When is she ever?’ you quip with no bite.

Three steps and he’s spun you around by the waist, soft lips latching onto yours in a sweet kiss with just a hint of heated aftertaste that has you swaying on your feet when he pulls back.

A breathless laugh bubbles in your throat as you palm his whiskered jawline. ‘Why, thank you for that, Mr. Miller.’

The corners of his eyes crinkle, and he brushes his nose tenderly against your cheek. ‘No, thank you, sweetheart.’

Notes: I hope I wrote Ellie's coming out as sensitively as I hoped to. As I mentioned, I have no idea how or if she comes out in the game, but despite being such a chatty teenager, I think she'd find it difficult to broach the subject with Joel in conversation. For me, this was a fun way of weaving in her part-time job at the Outfitters and Pin into her coming out story that stays true to Ellie's character. I hope you enjoyed this - comments and reblogs appreciated as always!

P.S. I am not 'back' back, so I don't know when I will next update Seams. Thank you for your patience while I try to navigate my way back to some semblence of writing regularly, whenever that may be.

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers ❤️

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Can you please write a sequel to the au where the greens win and Aemond forcibly married his niece where one of their children accuses him of making their mother sad which makes him realise that he has become like his father.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Aemond x Niece!reader

summary: sequel to the au where the greens win and Aemond forcibly married his niece where one of their children accuses him of making their mother sad which makes him realise that he has become like his father.

Word count: 1,2K

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Daddy, why is mommy locked in her room?" Your youngest, Helaera asked innocently. Gaelys, your eldest snapped his head up to look at his father. watching his facial expression, he was never brace enough to ask such a question.

"Whatever do you mean, sweet one? Do you not see your mother in the gardens and during banquets?" Aemond chuckled picking her up to sit on his lap. Your sewing by then had paused, but still you did not dare look up from the tablecloth you were busying yourself with as of lately.

"Yes but otherwise she is locked in her room" She began playing with the buttons on his shirt pouting sadly. Gaelys moved to sit by your side now. He reached over to take your hand in his, you were trembling.

"Darling, your mother made many mistakes and must be punished for them" Aemond kissed her forehead. Her frown deepened and she wiggled out of his arms. She wobbled over to you on her chubby legs, reaching for you to pick her up.

"Come here, love" You put the tablecloth to the side with a smile trying to act as if you did not hear her questions. She giggled as you moved her to sit on your lap.

"Poor mommy, always being punished" she whispered snuggling into your bosom for comfort. Gaelys could not hold himself back, he was about to burst. He stood up from the couch and approached his father with a fire Aemond only saw in dragons.

"You once told us that grandsire Viserys was a horrible man, that he married our grandmother when she was much younger than him and that he never loved her-" Gaelys began. You gasped shocked at his snappy tone. You feared that Aemond would punish him like he did to you for so many years.

"-but you treat mother worse. You lock her up like some animal and only let her out for show. You use your authority on her as if she was some servant, no servants get treated better than her" Gaelys was panting by the end, from anger or loss of breath you did not know. You held your breath awaiting Aemond's outburst, tightening your hold on Helaera fearing she will be also on the receiving end of Aemond's fury for bringing the subject up.

"Go to your room, Gaelys" Aemond ordered, his voice low and angry. Gaelys turned to you begging you with his eyes for you to let him stay.

"Yes and take Helaera with you" You wanted him out of here, you wanted both of them away for when Aemond would let his furry out on you and your body. He has done so before many times.

"Mother-" You cut him off with the famous motherly glare. He sighed but took Helaera from your arms before leaving with his head bowed. You waited for the outburst of yelling and smashing of things but it never came.

Instead Aemond pushed himself slowly from his chair, as if he was fearing scaring you. Still you flinched as he stepped closer making the guilt inside of him twitch like some knife lodged into his side. He crouched down in front of you slowly, his hands softly caressing your knees comforting you.

"Gaelys' words made me realise something" Aemond began softly. You dared to finally look up and into his eyes. All he could see was fear, you even feared looking in his direction. What has he done?

"I am worse than my father" Aemond chocked on his tears. One lone tear trickled down his cheek landing atop his pouty lips. His brows were furrowed at the confusion on your face, you did not believe him capable of caring or even showing the slightest bit of emotions.

"I have become what I hated most" Aemond leaned his head down on her knee. His voice sounded full of despair. You felt conflicted on what to do with him, what to say to him, You could only come with the words "It is okay"

"No tis not!" Aemond jumped to his feet again. He ran a hand through his usual well kept hair, ruining the perfect half up do. He pulled his eyepatch off feeling the leather irritate his skin with his tears.

"I have treated you horribly, the woman I have been in love with since I was ten!" Aemond paced with his hands in his hair, pulling trying to hurt himself. You sat back and watched him break down. Watched him relive every single moment with you, every time he forced himself on you or showed you a side of himself he himself hated.

"I fell for you ever since you defended me during Driftmark. I imagined you to become my wife ever since then. When I learned the ways of the flesh at ten and three it was you I imagined ever since when I touched myself. Ever since I began reading poetry it was with you in mind" He cried. You stood up from the chair approaching him like some scared child. He paused his pacing and faced you, trying to read your facial expression.

"I will not justify what you did nor will I say I forgive you Aemond, what you did is horrible but I will accept that it is from the past for the sake of Gaelys and Helaera" You spoke calmly. Always the collected one in your family. Aemond rubbed his face noticing that you kept your distance, you were disgusted by him and did not want to touch him.

"I will not however tolerate your behaviour any longer, I have had enough, yes Gaelys is right even the servants have a better life than I" You hissed, regaining some of your old fire, but not all, you were tired. You were beaten with no hope. Your hope was now in Gaelys, the heir to throne after Aegon who now had a burned cock and unable to have anymore children.

"I am ready to beg for your forgiveness, my love" Aemond whispered, taking a step closer to you. He placed his hands on your shoulders. You hated the sight of his tears streaming down his face, you sympathised with him, he went through so much from losing his eye to losing his sister but so did you, you lost your brothers and mother.

"I don't want you begging, I want my freedom, I want to have the right to walk around like everyone else not like some animal on a leash. I want to have the right to see my children whenever I want and most importantly I want to go home" You pushed him back. Aemond stumbled a couple of steps back shocked.

"Dragonstone? At once we will go there" Aemond nodded eager to please you, eager to get on your good graces again.

"No, you stay here like the lap dog you are but I will move with my children to Dragonstone" You shook your head coldly. Aemond hiccuped from shock and despair, it was like you grew heartless in a matter of minutes.

"What about me?" He whimpered. He stepped closer to you but you pulled away before eh could touch.

"You stay with your green family and lick the ground they walk on. My children are Targaryens and they will be raised as such with their black and red flag on their castle"

[peeweekey]

i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!

part i, part ii, part iii

synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.

tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing ; miscommunication

Valentine’s day comes rolling around the next year, and you are sadly not present to witness Alhaitham lengthen his trail of broken hearts. A shame, really. This year, you were looking forward to bringing popcorn for the occasion—just to see him squirm.

You’ve been cooped up in the homeroom lab for the better part of the week, sewing and snipping away at one of the costumes for the school’s fair. Unlike last year, you don’t have your seniors to help you pin fabrics right or to assist in hand stitching plastic beads, as the newly appointed tailor's club head you have a lot more duties to take on.

It’s exhausting, you feel the deep creases underneath your eye—dreading to head to the bathroom and accidentally look into the mirror to face your own haggard appearance—and the dull ache in your hands and back is blocking any sense you could have.

The club room is otherwise quiet if not for the lo-fi beat playing from your phone’s speaker and the rhythmic snips of scissors gliding over fabric. You focus all your brain power on the task—fabric is not cheap and you don’t have enough mora in your wallet if you lose focus and mess up—and remain blissfully unaware of any potential distraction.

To be honest, it hadn’t even registered in your head that you weren’t alone in the room anymore, until the gentlest tap on your shoulder has you snapping your focus away from the brocade.

The sight of just who has you unconsciously gaping your mouth like a blubbering fish in shock—Alhaitham.

He stares at you blankly, his gaze is so intense it’s a little unnerving, you freeze up before him, and probably make yourself look like an idiot in the process.

Suddenly, the state of your appearance becomes a presiding worry. Having skipped lunch in favor of patterning tulle perfectly on the dummy mannequin. Your uniform is crumpled, creased with the lack of motion, stray threads and fabric fibers cover you head to toe similar to lint. It’s almost humiliating to be seen so disheveled by Alhaitham—when he himself looks like the epitome of put-together flawlessness.

“Haitham,” you start, smoothing out the fabric laid out on the table, it’s soft and smooth under your fingertips. “Need something?”

He spares a glance to whatever you’re fidgeting with behind you then to your face, which in turn makes you fist the work-in-progress fabric tighter in your hand.

Alhaitham seems to search for something in your expression, his gaze feels like it’s poking and prodding in your soul. Your hands itch to cover up whatever’s he’s fixated on, but you settle on the second best option; staring back just as hard and ten times more intensely.

“The second button of my shirt,” he says, Alhaitham points at his stark white button up, right where a button lay missing. You arch a brow at that, he’s most definitely only here to ask you to mend his shirt. No other reason.

And you are definitely not disappointed right now too.

Swallowing hard, your eyes drift to his face. “Do you need a replacement button?”

A crease forms between his brows. “No.”

Well.

“O-kay,” that stumps you, “What about it then?” you shoot him a puzzled look, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

That makes him pause. “I wanted to check if you wanted it.”

“…your button?”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here.”

He must be kidding. The two of you are standing in the homeroom lab, there’s a surplus of small white buttons, you’d rather pick from there than have him ruin a perfectly good shirt.

“Uh no thanks,” you scratch at the back of your neck, extremely confused. “I have a lot more buttons in the drawer, there’s no need to take one off your back.”

Once you said that and saw the expression on his face, you knew immediately that it was the wrong choice—even if it wasn’t a test question. Alhaitham does not pout, but that’s something he would say. If you were asked, the way his lips twitch downward slightly is pouting.

“I understand,” he says shortly and starts to turn back and reach for the door. You cannot hide your bewildered expression, pinching your brows in confusion.

“Wait—hold it right there,” you call, stepping a step or two following him. You, not wanting your conversation to end on such an unusually awkward note. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” he says and you practically hear the sulky edge to his voice—something you swore he left back in middle school—still, he turns back to face you. “If you don’t want it, I won’t give it to you.”

Sighing, you step even closer to close some of the distance, holding your palm out impatiently to him. “Come over here, grumpy. I’ll take the button.”

He eases up slightly. “Don’t force yourself.”

Why you ought to wring this man by the neck. You place your free hand to rest on your waist. “You’re not forcing me, now hand it over.”

Alhaitham stands his ground, but eventually cracks, offering a compromise. “...I’ll leave it on the table.”

“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion and slight irritation—confusion more than anything. “See you, Haitham.”

He bids you goodbye, calling your name softly.

You hear the door slide open, then shut.

When you open your eyes, a singular translucent white button sits on your working table—along with a box of fine confectioners chocolate.

What a loser, you think. Though your smile betrays that thought.

You skip back to your work and suddenly, you aren’t so exhausted anymore.

[ddejavvu]

hi daisy love i hope you’re doing well!! i’ve actually had kinda a bad day/few days and so whenever your requests are open if you could give me some remus fluff i would very much appreciate it. maybe one where one of the other marauders says something mean about reader without knowing (sorta something along the lines of “wow, whoever did this clearly must have had no idea what they were doing” not knowing that reader did it) and remus just encouraging crybaby reader and calling her lovely and ahhhh. take care of yourself please mei 🫧

"Okay, next." Sirius grabs at the next shirt in Remus's closet, by some miracle not a sweater, "And- Christ, mate, let's toss this, yeah?"

"Hm?" Remus glances up from where he'd been smoothing out a wrinkle in your pants, eyes landing on the garment in Sirius's hand.

As soon as Remus's attention is off of you, you redirect your own. You wish you hadn't though, because when your eyes land on the shirt you'd sewn for Remus's birthday this past year, your stomach drops.

Sure, it's not perfect. It's not factory made, with clean, straight stitching, or perfect embroidery. But Remus promised you that he loved it, and not only because he loves you.

"Come on," Sirius prompts Remus, who's floundering for an answer, "It looks like a toddler made it. What- did a toddler make this?"

"No, Sirius." Remus huffs, "Put it back. I'm keeping it."

"Mate," Sirius's eyes widen, and he shakes the hanger in his hand like all of the lopsidedness from the shirt will finally register in Remus's brain if he jostles it enough, "Really? Moony, you're a hoarder. This is garbage."

"Enough, Sirius." Remus snaps, hand tightening around your own. You're blinking rapidly, trying to shield your face from Sirius's so that the man doesn't see you cry.

"Go get another trash bag," Remus demands, intent on getting Sirius out of the room, "Go on, go!"

"Ass!" Sirius scoffs, tossing Remus the shirt and stalking to the door, "I said I'd help you clean out your closet, not that I'd be your bloody servant for the day."

You can hear him muttering furiously under his breath as he flounces down the stairs, but you're trying not to listen. Remus keeps the shirt in his lap, leaning over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Dove..."

"Remus," You gush in a sob, hands buried in your face, "I- I'm sorry! I knew it wasn't good."

"Darling, yes it is! I love it," Remus urges, and you're sick at how kind he's being to you and your lackluster sewing skills, "Sirius has terrible taste in fashion, love, wouldn't know a masterpiece if he saw it on a model."

"It's awful," You lament, not daring to look at the messy stitching laying in Remus's lap, "I sew like a toddler."

"No," Remus squeezes you to his side, rubbing his hand up and down your tense shoulder, "You sew like a little mouse. Like a sweet character in a children's book, love, that lives in a forest and wears an apron. Look't that," He pulls your hands away from your face, pointing at a particular set of stitches that's crossed in an x instead of parallel, "That's the work of a mouse in a bonnet. 'S the cutest thing in the world, dove."

"But I wanted to sew like a machine," You sniffle, "Like something you'd want to wear."

"Scooch," Remus pushes against your side, grabbing the hem of his sweater. He lifts it off of his head in one swoop, already eagerly working at the buttons on the shirt in his lap. You try not to ogle him, but you definitely don't cry more at the sight of his bare torso.

"There," He settles the shirt over his frame, posture proud and smile kind, "It's perfect, dove. I love it."

"You're too nice to me." You decide, wiping a stray tear away from your eye.

He scoffs, tugging you back into his embrace, "Not true. Could never be too nice to you, m'little forest mouse."

[fairy-writes]

Hello!! If requests are still open (if not, please ignore) can I ask for a Louis Moriarty x reader like the Mycroft “regret” one you wrote? Where he says something mean and they get into a fight and it’s dramatic with a fluffy ending? I would appreciate it very much! ♥️

SWEET APOLOGIES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Louis James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Angst to Fluff, Arguments, Injuries

Notes: I really hope this is alright! I was second-guessing myself the entire time 😭

__________________________________________________________________________

Your name being shouted makes you prick your finger on your sewing needle. You curse and drop the thing onto your current project which happened to be a pair of Moran’s trousers. You were often asked to sew various things, whether that was an injury or socks. You were the Moriarty’s tailor or seamster and makeshift doctor. 

The voice shouts your name again. Moran maybe? But wasn’t he out with Bonde and Louis?

You make it to the top of the stairs and stop dead in your tracks.

Louis hangs limp between Sebastian Moran and James Bonde. Blood drips from his forehead, and he’s clearly unconscious and missing his glasses.

You’re down the stairs in an instant. 

You direct them to the sitting room, where you have them leave Louis while you retrieve your stitching needles and threads, as well as some medical supplies like bandages and whiskey.

Because you know he’s going to need it when he wakes up.

“What happened to him?” You ask as you gently work his suit coat from his shoulders. Moran favors his right side, and you make a mental note to take a look at him after Louis. Bonde has a scratch above his left eye but otherwise looks unharmed.

“We were jumped,” Moran says, voice strained with pain, and if you had to guess, he has a couple of cracked or broken ribs. You end up handing him the bottle of whiskey to which he takes several long swigs. 

Soon enough, you dismiss Moran and Bonde, promising them you’ll look at their injuries later, leaving you and Louis alone in the sitting room. He lets out a pained moan as you agitate his injuries in your attempt to remove his shirt but doesn’t awaken.

It isn’t until you are threading your needle that he stirs. By that time, you had bandaged his lesser wounds and were working on what looked like a knife cut on his collarbone. It’s awkward and long, and you’re fairly certain that his shirt is partially shredded because of it. 

But your rage has started to grow. Tiny and hot like a dying ember, but slowly fed by your worry and panic at seeing him so injured. 

His already darkened maroon eyes are even darker because of the pain. He grits his teeth and tries to sit up but is stopped by you putting a gentle hand on his chest.

“Don’t get up. You’re hurt.” You say quietly, keeping a tight leash on your anger so as to not anger him. 

The last thing you needed was for him to get angry back and start an argument. 

“I’m fine.” He tries, but you glare and show him your bloody fingers where you had been stitching for the last twenty minutes. 

“Clearly you aren’t. So be quiet and let me finish.” You snap, the leash on your temper fraying just the tiniest bit. 

Thankfully, Louis catches your slip and doesn’t say anything. Instead, he bites his tongue and leans back against the couch arm. You’ll likely have to throw the couch out or burn it after you’re done. It’s stained in blood and grime from his injuries.

As soon as you finish the last stitch, Louis is sitting up and pushing your hands away. 

“I promise I’m fine.” He says quickly, and that’s when your patience snaps. 

“What do you mean you’re fine?! THIS IS NOT FINE!” You shout, and he stops where he’s shrugging on his button-down and suit coat. His movements are painfully slow, and it’s clear that he’s suffering. 

But that doesn’t stop his temper from flaring up to meet yours like two bucks charging each other. 

“Can you stop it for a moment?!” He snaps back and yanks on his suit coat, ignoring how it pulls his stitches. You toss the dirty needle back into your bag and feel tears burn in your eyes. 

“You promised me you weren’t going to be reckless! You promised!” You exclaim, and he grits his teeth,

“Well, promises can be broken, so just leave me alone, yeah?” He says, and you flinch back. 

Then, with tears threatening to overflow down your cheeks, you pack up your things and leave with a slam of the sitting room door. It rattles the chandelier above you as you wander the mansion halls in search of Bonde and Moran. 

You find Moran in his chambers, smoking a cigarette and shuffling a deck of cards. 

“Those’ll kill you, y’know.” You say as a way of entrance and he looks up, clearly unimpressed. 

“Then I’ll die doing somethin’ I like.” He retorts, and you roll your eyes, shuffling inside to take a seat across from him. 

“Take your shirt off.” You say curtly, and he huffs out a laugh, 

“At least buy me a drink first.” You look up to the ceiling and pray for patience. Because after Louis, you don’t have any left. 

Did he really want you to leave him alone? 

“I need to see if you broke anything dumbass.” You say eventually, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“What’d Louis do t’ you t’ get your knickers in a twist?” He says, clearly picking up on your foul mood. You set your bag down and reach inside for bandages in case he’s bleeding. 

“Nothing. Louis just wants me to leave him alone, is all.” You say and swallow down the lump in your throat. 

If he was so willing to break this promise what others was he going to break?

Thankfully, Moran doesn’t say anything else and instead sheds his shirt so you can take a look at his side. It’s mottled in purples and blues and slightly swollen. You don’t have to touch it to know it’s tender. So, you prescribe him rest and the occasional shot of whiskey to dull the pain. 

“No missions for you for a while. Take it easy, alright?” You instruct and he nods, waving you off as he starts playing a card game with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, go check on Blondie, will ya? He took a pretty good look to the head.” 

You are about to say something when you see Louis hobbling down the hallway, favoring his stitches. He stops, looks at you, scowls, and continues down toward his bedroom. You huff and brush past him toward where you guessed Bonde would be.

Two can play that game. 

The tension between you is palpable by day four of not speaking to each other. Perhaps it was day two, but you didn’t really care to count—not when Louis was still being so touchy.

But it wasn’t long before everyone else came to you, asking you to make things right.

“He’s so mopey! Not at all like himself!” That was Bonde. You grunted to acknowledge his words but didn’t respond past that. 

“He’s got a stick up his ass. You should talk to him.” Moran. At that, you roll your eyes and stab your needle into your embroidery. Perhaps more aggressively than you meant to, but it got your point across. 

“He said he wanted me to leave him alone. So that’s what I’m doing.” You snap, and he relents and doesn’t push the issue anymore. 

Soon, everyone has come to you, complaining about Louis’s sour behavior. And every single time, you turn them away with the same excuse. It isn’t until you stumble upon Louis nursing a clearly infected injury that you relent and talk to him. 

You enter the library to find Louis hunched over himself, taking a long pull from a whiskey bottle as he tries to remove his stitches. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” You snap, hurrying to his side to stop him before stopping yourself. 

The injury on his collarbone is infected—that much is obvious. The wound has an unpleasant odor emanating from it and is red and inflamed. He’s successfully removed a handful of stitches, but a few remain. 

“What does it look like?” Louis retorts and sets down the whiskey bottle. It’s clear he’s in pain, his nose scrunched and his eyes tight. 

Despite your anger, you’re gentle in helping Louis. After some back and forth, he eventually sits back and lets you work. 

Pus oozes from the gash, and you work to clean it out and apply a poultice of your own design to help fight infection. Then, you leave the wound open to breathe. 

“I’ll restitch it later if it starts bleeding again.” You say and begin cleaning up the mess that Louis had made.

He stops you by saying your name oh so softly. You sigh, stop what you’re doing, and look at him. He looks sad. Broken. And hurt. 

“I don’t want to keep fighting.” He says, and you scoff,

“You told me to leave you alone. So I am.” You say and go to leave but he catches your wrist as you stand to leave.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, and you stop, raising an eyebrow at him, and he continues. 

“It was never my intention to hurt you. I want you to know that. It’s no excuse, but I was in pain and upset that the mission went so badly. But I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.” He finishes, and with each word, you feel your anger dissipating. You lean down and press your mouth to his hairline in a soft kiss. 

“I accept your apology. Thank you, Louis.” You whisper, and he smiles.

[ladylooch]

The 3 Times Connor Almost Kissed Lucie & The 3 Times He Did. [Lucie x Connor]

A/N: Wow that title is a mouthful! This is the prequel for Lucie and Connor's trip to Mexico ( with Lio). I am in love with every single effing thing in this part. And I hope you love this too! Dedicated to Connor Wood's #1 lover 🧸 anon. Hope this brightens your spirits bby!

Word Count: 5.3k

October

Lucie Hischier yawns and rubs at her left eye as she walks down the hallway to Lio’s apartment. She is so tired. She has been tucked away in the big library on campus, studying for her economics mid-term when Lio had called. He needed her to come sew a button back on his favorite dress shirt. Normally, Lucie wouldn’t bother making the trek, but she hasn’t seen Lio in a few days and is a little lonely. 

She gets to the door, heading Lio’s advice that the door is unlocked and she can walk in when she gets here. 

He obviously didn’t tell his roommate that. 

Lucie cringes when she takes in the look of his roommate, Connor Wood, getting his belt unbuckled by a girl she has never seen before. Lucie’s eyes are wide as saucers as she watches the girl, slide her hand down the front of his jeans. Connor kisses the girl back with such fervor that Lucie’s cheeks begin to burn red. This is… intimate. She shouldn’t be watching. In her surprise, she forgets about the door in her hand, letting go of the handle so the door slams shut. 

“Oh!” Lucie gasps when they both turn to look at her. Her brown eyes drink in Connor’s blue eyes and puffy, red lips. He looks like sex on a leather couch. She licks her lips, mind briefly floating to what his mouth would feel like against hers. She shakes her head, snapping out of it quickly. Where did that come from? “I’m so sorry.” 

Connor pos up, scrambling to keep his jeans up with the change in position.

“Uh shit.” He struggles to button them back up. “Hey Luc! Didn’t realize you were coming over.” After getting his jeans back in place, he puts his hands on his hips, drawing attention to the distinct bulge in his pants. Lucie bites her lip, looking away, mortified to have interrupted  them. His hair is all wild, lips swollen, half a chub popped in his pants but his full attention is squarely on Lucie.

“I’m… just gonna go to Lio’s room. I’m so sorry.” She mumbles to him and rushes off down the hallway. She shoves Lio’s door open, rushing in fast then slamming it behind her. “What the hell, Lio!” She snaps, pressing her back to the wood, fingers splayed wide by her hips.

“What?” He asks, not looking off the TV where he is playing FIFA. 

“Connor has someone over!”

“Still?” Lio laughs. “Damn, he’s getting desperate early this year.” Lio shakes his head. “Ah fuck!” He snaps when the computer launches a goal past his goalie’s left shoulder. He tosses his controller in annoyance. He sighs, getting up and grabbing the shirt for her. 

“I can never show my face here again.” Lucie waves her arms to the side. 

“You are so dramatic.” Lio shakes his head. “Trust me, Connor doesn’t give a shit that you walked in.”

For some reason, that statement bothers Lucie. Why wouldn’t he care? I mean, cause it was embarrassing but also, she isn’t blind. She has seen the way he looks at her sometimes. Lio’s confidence in Connor not caring gives her pause. Is she mistaking his kindness for attraction? 

Maybe it doesn’t matter. He is the last person she should be getting involved with.

Lucie makes quick work of fixing the button on Lio’s shirt. She tries to get Lio to watch her so he can do it himself next time, but his eyes keep drifting back to Instagram where he scrolls through model after model, tossing out likes like candy. 

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Lucie says after she cuts the final piece of string. “I’m tried and crabby.” 

“You can stay if you want? Couch is probably free by now.” Lio snickers.

“Gross.” Lucie sighs, gathering her jacket and bag. “Bye.” She shoves at Lio’s head, then heads out his bedroom. 

“Do you want a ride?”

“No.” She calls over her shoulder.

Lucie slowly tip toes down the hallway, recognizing the light of the TV is reflecting on the wall by the door. She casually glances over, expecting to see Connor and the girl curled up on the couch. Instead, it’s just Connor. He has changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. One arm is resting behind his head on the pillow he lays on. He glances her way, then back to the TV, followed by a double take to her again. He sits up.

“Bye.” Lucie whispers at him with a small wave.

“Bye. I’m so sorry about earlier. I, uh… won’t happen again.”

“It’s your place, Connor. Do what you want.” She shrugs simply. She isn’t upset nor does she have any right to feel anything other than apologetic after barging into his home when he had company.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here because of me. I know how much you mean to Lio and yeah, I like having you around.”

Lucie smiles, adjusting her purse on her shoulder as she shrugs.

“It’s all good. I’m sorry if I ruined your date.”

“Wasn’t a date.” He corrects her. She nods, blushing hard at the thought of a naked Connor writhing around with a girl in his bedroom while she was fixing Lio’s shirt. 

“Well, I hope that was good.” She chuckles, stuffing her feet back into her Nikes. Connor doesn’t acknowledge her statement, but he studies her, forearms hanging off his knees as he sits up completely.

“Do you need a ride?” 

“No.” She assures him, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m gonna take a cab.”

“Can I cover it for ya?” 

“Not necessary. I have daddy’s money.” She winks sarcastically. 

“Okay.” He laughs lightly, standing up to walk her out. 

“You should definitely lock the door after me. Never know who’s going to just waltz in.” She winks at him as he comes to open the door for her. 

“Waltz in whenever.” He murmurs.

He gradually licks his lips, blue eyes tracing over her face until they land on her lips. Lucie pauses with a minuscule gasp. This. This is exactly what she was thinking about earlier. When he looks at her like this, she can’t stop feeling like maybe he sees her as something more than Lio’s cousin. Shyly, her eyes roam over his face too, settling on the lips he had on someone else when she walked in. She drags her bottom lip into her mouth, then looks away. 

“I should go.” 

“Goodnight, Luc.” He murmurs. 

“Goodnight.” 

Lucie heads down towards the elevator, watching the toes of her shoes as she goes. She pushes the down button, then casually looks over her shoulder, back towards their door. 

Connor is still there, leaning against the doorjamb, waiting for her to get in the elevator. When she does, he raises a hand in a brief wave, then disappears back into the apartment. 

^ ^ ^ 

November

Lucie and Connor stare into the oven together, both watching the thermometer he sticks into the breast of the turkey. The skin is perfectly golden brown, but the temperature has yet to reach the necessary degrees to be considered finished.

Connor sighs.

“This oven sucks. I keep telling Lio we should ask the building for a new one, but he doesn’t think it’s a big deal.”

“He wouldn’t understand.” Lucie shrugs. “It’s okay. We are still on track for 5pm. I have snacks for the boys too, so they shouldn’t be dying of hunger.”

“Yeah, that was a good idea.” Connor nods, shutting the oven door again. “Can I help with the salad?”

“Actually, yes that would be great. I have more cheese to cut up for the charcuterie board.”

“Great, put me to work, chef.” 

Lucie grabs apples and candied nuts along with a few shallots for Connor to cut up. She goes back to slicing various types of cheeses in a comfortable silence with him.

Although cooking a Thanksgiving meal can be stressful and chaotic, Lucie has found it to be the opposite this year with Connor as her co-chef. When she first approached him with the idea, she wasn’t sure if this would work out. But he understands flavor profiles and has excellent skills to contribute to the meal. He ran with the turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes while Lucie focused on the sweet potatoes, apple pie, salad and homemade dinner rolls with both sweet and savory compound butter choices. Lio has been circling like a vulture all day, only able to offer his services in refilling drinks and taste testing when asked. 

“Coming to your left.” Connor murmurs, hands on her hips to move her slightly to the side. Lucie swallows hard, eyes fluttering closed at the way his big hands circle her body. “How is your knife? I have a sharpener.”

“I’m good.” She assures him, watching him take the sharpener out. Once it’s on the counter, he teasingly moves her back into the exact spot she was standing in before. Lucie can feel every single inch of his hands sliding off her body. She shivers, hiding it by rolling her neck from side to side. 

“Do you need a break?” He asks. “I can take over.”

“No, I’m good!” She assures him then goes back to cubing the cheddar cheese. 

Over the next hour, the other, single Devils start to filter into the apartment. By the time they all arrive, the food is ready to be served. Lucie and Connor beam as compliments are thrown their way. Some of the guys are from different countries and have never had an American Thanksgiving before. Within thirty minutes, every dish is scraped clean. Lucie stares in awe, then meets Connor’s gaze across the table.

“Did you guys even taste it?!” She asks, incredulously. She had anticipated leftovers, but it’s clear there will be none.

“No, still got room for pie.” Lio jokes.

“Anyone in for FIFA?” Stephen asks. 

“Yes!” The other boys at the table all bolt up, except for Connor.

“Guess I get to clean up too.” Connor looks at Lucie.

“I’ll help.” She assures him.

They work again as a perfect tandem, clearing off the table, stacking dishes, and discarding scraps of food into the trash can. Connor sets up shop at the sink, washing and rinsing dishes while Lucie dries them. After the last dish is given to her, Connor begins to let the water drain out of the sink. 

“Wait you forgot a spot.” Lucie tells him, tossing the dishtowel onto the counter. She swoops her hand in the soap foam, swiping a big dollop across his nose.

“Oh!” He chuckles with a sly grin. “You too.” He insists, then flicks his fingers, splashing water all over her top. Lucie gasps down at the droplets, then grabs an even bigger handful of foam, slapping it onto his chest. Her hand print perfectly seeps into his grey shirt. Connor laughs loudly, then grabs the sprayer. 

“You wouldn’t.” She chokes.

“Only because I don’t want to clean this up when we are done.” Lucie laughs loudly, glad he has some sense in him. Connor takes advantage of her laugh, slapping a big palm full of foam and water onto her hair. Lucie squeaks.

“Oh you suck!” She cringes as some water drips down her neck. The huge grin on her face reveals her true feelings. She opens her eyes, taking in the mischief on his face. Connor bites his lip, reaching a wet hand up to smooth away the drops of water sliding down her throat from her hair. Lucie shivers, eyelashes fluttering under the brush of his thumb over her pulse. Her lips purse as she raises her gaze to his lips. Connor steps forward slightly, causing Lucie to tilt her head back to follow his face. Neither of them breathe as he scans her features, landing on her lips. Slowly, his eyes crawl back to hers. 

“Lucie.” He whispers like a question. 

Lucie opens her mouth, about to give him permission to do whatever he is thinking, when Lio comes howling with laughter into the kitchen. Lio has his body to the side, configuring the TV so he misses the way Connor and Lucie jump apart. 

“Connor, you have to come look at this replay.”

“Ya, sure.” Connor insists, heading towards the living room without giving another glance at Lucie. 

She swallows hard, grabbing the damp towel on the counter to wipe off the water from Connor’s hand. 

Lucie finishes up in the kitchen on her own, then heads back to her place, overanalyzing Connor Wood’s touch the entire ride there.

^ ^ ^ 

December

“So are you going home for Christmas?” Nolan yells into Lucie’s ear over the beat of the music. She sucks down a big gulp of her drink, shaking her head no.

“No. My parents and sisters are coming here to visit.” Switzerland is gorgeous in December, but there is no comparison to New York City during the holidays. The Hischier family has been missing the festiveness and jumped at the opportunity to bring their traditions back to a place they have so many holiday memories at.

“That’s cool! Do they still have a place here?” Nolan continues to press.

Lucie sighs inwardly, resisting the twitch she feels in her left eye. Nolan never listens when she talks. It’s the biggest barrier she has to actually throwing him a bone and going on a date. He’s attractive, smart, and driven, but he never listens during their conversations. If he did, he would already know the answers to these questions. 

“Mhm.” Lucie acknowledges, starting to scan the group they came with for someone else to talk to. Her eyes catch motion behind the group, seeing two people trying to push through the crowd. After a blink, she recognizes Lio. Following closely behind him is Connor Wood. It doesn’t matter how busy Lucie is with school, who she is with, or what other things she needs to focus on. Connor Wood hasn’t been far from her mind since October. Seeing him here, after texting Lio about her belated birthday celebration, has Lucie’s heart pounding in her chest. 

“Ohmygod!” She exclaims, pushing forward and away from Nolan. “You made it!”

“Yeah, figured since I missed your birthday last week, I could come out tonight. Brought this loser too.” Lio jerks his thumb over his shoulder. He gives Lucie a squeeze, then steps aside.

“Happy birthday, Lucie.” Connor smiles, then gives her a strong hug. Lucie practically moans at how good his heavy arms feel around her body. The way they caress and hold her against his chest in a warm, genuine hug. It’s a chest she could see herself curling up in on the couch watching tv… or in bed as study resting place for her hands.

“Thank you! And thanks for coming. That’s so sweet of you.”

“For sure. Your next drink is on my tab, okay?”

“Sure.” She nods, biting her bottom lip. Lucie sucks up the rest of her drink, then hands him the empty glass.

“What should I get you, birthday girl?” 

“Vodka Red Bull.” 

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” His hand on her left hip, slides along her bare stomach as he heads to the bar on their right. Lio follows behind, both of them easily parting the crowd with their big shoulders and confident stride.

Lucie tries to immerse herself back in conversation with her friend group, but her eyes keep drifting up to Connor. She studies his wide shoulders in his brown sweater, then follows the lines of his muscular back down to the bulge of his ass in his blue jeans. On his feet are brown leather boots tied casually loose on his feet. He looks warm and inviting. 

“Shots! Shots! Shots!” Bridget squeals, handing Lucie a shot of tequila and a lime. The salt is lining the rim, making it a complete experience. Lucie shoots it back quickly, then grimaces into the lime as the citrus cuts the cheap tequila. 

“Wow! One of those was enough.” Lucie coughs, watching Connor’s approach.

“You okay?” He chuckles, handing her a fresh drink. Lucie sucks up three big sips, then sighs in relief.

“I am now.” She smiles. Connor licks his lips, grinning, then takes a big pull from his beer bottle. 

“Glad to hear.” 

“Hey, introduce me to your friends. Specifically that one.” Lio points to Bridget.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Lucie snaps. “You too.” She points at Connor.

“I’m not looking for trouble tonight.” Connor chuckles. 

And he isn’t, hasn’t seem to be for a while either, if Lucie really thinks about it.

Instead, he stays in their group of people, conversing with her friends, laughing along to jokes and graciously answering the curious questions about what playing in a professional sports league is like. The guys crowd into him, eager to hear anything he has to say. Well, all of them except Nolan, who sulked out of there after Connor’s generous hug for the birthday girl. Lio wandered off to deeper waters once Lucie put all the fish in her friend group off limits. 

Drinks keep flowing Lucie’s direction and she keeps accepting them. The more drinks she has, the closer Connor keeps getting to her. By the time her last drink is set down in front of her by Bridget, Lucie knows she needs to be done. Her eyelids are beginning to drift down. Her feet are like cement blocks and her vision swims enough that she knows she will have a hell of a hangover if she doesn’t preemptively take Excedrin. 

But alas, the show must go on for the birthday girl, especially when her favorite song comes through the speakers.

She launches up, pulling Connor up with her to sway to the music with. He smiles, twirling her around as many times as she demands him to, until she falls into him in a dizzy mess. She clutches his brown sweater in her hands, resting her cheek on his chest.

“This feels as good as I thought it would.” She says, thinking he won’t hear her.

“You’ve been thinking about me?”

“Maybe.”

“Anything else you think about?” He wonders, bringing his second hand around her back to keep her steady against him. She drags her hand across to his opposite hip so she can hold him tighter.

“Maybe.” She whispers again. “Could we stay like this for a minute? It feels nice.”

“Sure, we’ll call it your birthday gift.” Lucie smiles, closing her eyes to savor his strong chest. His body feels like home to her- strong, warm, and comfortable. When the song ends, Lucie pulls her cheek away, pressing her chin into his sternum to look up at his face. It’s like Thanksgiving on steroids. His cologne seeps into her nose. His lips are shimmering in the low lighting from being licked by his tongue. His long lashes accent his deep blue eyes as they drink her in like drought stricken land. 

Connor tilts his head down further towards her. If Lucie went on her tip toes, their lips would touch. She closes her eyes, feeling the shift of him closer to her. 

And then, “Hey let’s go.” Lio says as he approaches from the right. “Good god, Lucie how drunk are you?” Lio mutters, seeing her looking up at Connor with her eyes shut. She blinks open, then slides her gaze to Lio. It’s more embarrassing to say she was waiting for a kiss that didn’t happen, so instead a sobered up Lucie lies.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty far gone.” She bites her lip, stepping back from Connor’s embrace. “Sorry, Woody.” She uses his nickname, trying to bring the situation back to the friend zone. 

“No problem.” He says, pushing her back to an arms length by her biceps and dropping his hands from around her. Lucie immediately feels a damp cold seeps into her bones, making them feel brittle and weak. Without his touch, loneliness works its way back over her skin. 

Lio and Connor drive Lucie back to her dorm. Lio keeps his car idling in the parking lot, not planning on taking her any further than the black asphalt.

“Thanks for the ride.” Lucie says, popping her door open. She pats Lio’s shoulder in the driver’s seat, then slides out of the back. 

“Uh, wait, are we not walking her in?” Connor mumbles to Lio.

“I usually don’t.” Lio shrugs.

“What is wrong with you?” Connor asks, genuinely annoyed at Lio’s blasé attitude about making sure a woman gets into her place of residence safely. From what Lucie has gathered, that’s not how Connor was raised. To be fair, it isn’t how Lio was either, but here we are.

“I’ll walk you in, Lucie.” Connor says, opening his door to follow her out of the car. “Let me show you what a real man does.” He chirps loudly so Lio can hear.

“She’s fucking fine. Woody, come on!” Connor flicks him off behind him and Lucie’s backs. Lucie giggles as Connor offers her an arm, putting on a true gentlemanly act the entire way up the sidewalk. 

“This is probably good.” Lucie murmurs once they get to the main entrance of the building.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” She nods, pulling the jacket he gave to her when they left the club off. “Here.” She puts it into his chest, even though he doesn’t want to take it. “Thank you. For that and for coming tonight. It was nice to see you.”

“Yeah. Lio said you might not be around much the next few weeks?”

“No, I have finals.” She nods, teeth chattering slightly. Her tongue caresses her bottom lip, then folds it under her top teeth. Her and Connor share a look, the seconds awkwardly ticking by before Connor laughs and clears his throat.

“Okay, well…good luck. I’ll see ya.” He murmurs. “Goodnight, Lucie.”

Lucie doesn’t think her name has ever sounded so good from someone else’s lips. Connor Wood, and his gorgeous mouth, are driving Lucie wild and he hasn’t even put it on her yet.

^ ^ ^ 

New Years

Sparkling, silver sequins cover the top half of Lucie Hischier’s body as she struts into the bumping New Year’s Eve party. It’s her first night reunited with her college friends since the semester ended. After spending the holidays with her family, she is ready to shed the skin of being a well-behaved girl and get into some shenanigans. A waiter walks by with champagne flutes bubbling on a black tray. She may as well start with that. 

After sucking down half the glass, she moves further into the party, smiling when she finds her friends. She plops down on the velvet, maroon couch next to Nolan. She hasn’t seen him since classes ended and she is curious what he has been up to. Judging by his eager greeting, he is happy to see Lucie hear tonight. As she sets herself into the cushions, her phone vibrates in her clutch. She pops the clasp, pulling it out to see a new Snap from Connor Wood. She smirks, clicking it open to see him with a pouty look on his face and a beer in his hands.

Apparently he has no plans and no green light from his team to celebrate because they have a game tomorrow.

As interesting as things had gotten between her and Connor before Christmas, it cooled off quickly with finals, team road trips, and the holidays. She really hasn’t seen Connor much, but when she has the connection has continued to be red hot. Earlier today, she texted Lio the address to the club, encouraging the two of them to come. Lio had responded that their asses were on the hot seat after a recent losing skid and coach made it clear they better come ready to play tomorrow. 

That means Lucie’s hopes of being kissed by Connor tonight were dashed. 

Nolan wraps his arm around her shoulder. She looks over at him, taking in his handsome, blonde features. Sure, he will do for a midnight smooch between two people who will only ever be friends. Lucie wondered if the time apart would make her ache for him like she did for someone else across town. It didn’t. If anything, it reaffirmed his position in the friend zone. Maybe that makes her an asshole of sharing a kiss with him at midnight, but truthfully, Lucie doesn’t care. Boys have used her worse than that. What’s a little payback?

“Nol, look here.” Lucie purses her lips at the camera, snapping a picture of him hanging over her left shoulder, cheeks pressed together. She sends that off to her snap roster, including Connor Wood, who opens it immediately. Lucie purses her lips, waiting for a response, but it doesn’t come. 

20 minutes later, she tosses her phone back into her clutch, determined to leave the man in her phone behind and have fun. 

Time flies as it always does on New Years Eve. Lucie can barely comprehend the count down happening before she is scurrying to get back to her friend group across the bar. Nolan is there, looking drunk as hell off the three beers he had throughout the course of the night.

“10…9….8…” Sounds out in the large space. Lucie reaches Nolan, gripping his wrist and squeezing in acknowledgement of her presence. A huge grin breaks out on his face at seeing her next to him. Guilt glides through her mind like a shooting star, gone as quickly as it came to be replaced by a longing, wishing he was someone else, but willing to pretend for a moment to curb her ache.

“Lucie!” She faintly hears. She glances to the right, scanning the seas of people on various levels of the event space, then looks back at the screen counting seconds. 

Must have been for a different Lucie. 

“7…6….5” 

A hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her out of Nolan’s grasp. Lucie turns to her right again, gasping in shock when she sees Connor Wood attached to the hand sliding into hers. He tugs her close still, other hand coming up to grab her face.

“…4…3….”

“Connor? What are you doing?” She breathes out to him.

“… 2…1!” 

Any response or scream or cheer is cut off by Connor Wood’s lips capturing hers. Lucie can only stand there as his mouth moves in perfect pressure along her lips. His mouth opens over hers, deepening the kiss as she moans into his parted lips. It’s too loud for him to hear it, but Lucie is sure the vibrating force of it can be felt by him. She feels him resist a smile, then he tilts her head more to the side, urging her to open her mouth too. She does, allowing his tongue to glide through her lips. 

Auld Lang Syne fades in and out of focus for her. She runs her fingers up the curves of his back, pressing her nails into his spine. 

“Damn, Lucie.” Connor murmurs when they pull apart, breathing rapidly. “You taste better than I’ve been imagining.” He groans, then pulls her in for another kiss. This one is not sweet. It is not patient or tentative or gentle. It is all consuming, mashing her lips, tongue, and nose into his as he wrecks her lip stain once and for all. The color transfers to him, threatening to tell their tale on his face the rest of the night. Slowly, his fingers drop and he steps back. 

Shock consumes Lucie as the weight of the air between them seeps into their heaving chests. 

“Couldn’t let anyone else kiss you tonight.” He murmurs simply.

Then he lets her fall off her tip toes, back to her heels, so he can be swallowed up into the crowd again. The sea of people is so large, Lucie loses him almost immediately. She rushes through people as fast as she can, not even bothering to say insincere apologies. She can’t let him leave. Not after the kiss he just laid on her. Not with the way the ground literally has shifted beneath her designer heels. She is unsteady as she burst through the pack of people and out the door. 

“Connor!” She screams when she sees his retreating back heading down the sidewalk. He keeps walking. Lucie picks up her pace. At the sound of her increased stiletto steps, Connor begrudgingly stops, turning back to face her. His hands are stuffed into his pockets. Shoulders rolled forward with the cold. He looks at Lucie in her short, sequined dress and puffs out a frustrated sigh. 

“Do you realize how cold it is out here?”

“No.” She snaps, taking his jacket from his outstretched hand. She shimmies into it, then steps closer to him as drunk people bump into them from seemingly every angle. “What was that!?” She points back to the club they came out of.

“I don’t know, okay!? I don’t know! One minute I was on the couch, the next I was here.” 

“No one else gets to kiss me tonight?” She drawls his words back to him, confused. “Like I’m yours somehow?” She stutters. Connor runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands in confusion.

“Lucie, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Maybe start with how you feel about me.”

“I can’t.” He shrugs his big shoulders, mouth becoming a tight line with his pursed lips. “You have no idea how unbelievably off limits you are to me.”

“Why because of Lio?”

“Yes because of Lio! Because you are everything thing to him. I’m pretty sure you are the only person he cares about in this world, and, and, that is a huge problem because you are the only thing in this world I cannot stop thinking about.” 

Lucie’s body stills. She isn’t sure she is even breathing after that confession. She feels emotional tears beginning to well up in her eyes. For this perfect, living breathing man who makes her feel all sorts of safe and seen and grown up in a year that has been the complete opposite at times. She curses the universe for the unfairness of their circumstances because he is right. 

What about Lio?

What if this ends in the same slow burning passion it has begun in? 

Lucie doesn’t have an answer for that.

“So, we are supposed to just pretend this feeling doesn’t exist?” She asks, looking down at her red toe nails in her peep toe stilettos. “That our kiss didn’t feel as explosive as this.” She gestures to the popping of fireworks blaring out down the avenues. 

Connor steps forward, cupping her cheek in his warm hand. Lucie turns her face into it as she sighs heavily, feeling tears collect beneath her closed lashes. When she opens her eyes to look at him, they blur him into a swarm of colors and lights. 

“Because if thats the case you better kiss me again.” She demands.

Connor smiles sadly, then puts his lips over hers one more time. They both take greedily from each other, lips puffy and yearning with a building need.

“If I don’t stop now, I’m going to take you back to your dorm and do things friends shouldn’t do to other friends cousins.” He murmurs, kissing her between every few words. Their lips stick together, feeling bruised and raw from how intensely they’ve been kissing. “I’ll see you around okay?” 

“Connor.” She whines, grasping at his wrists with both hands.

“Lucie, I’ll see you, okay?” He says firmly, putting more pressure on her cheeks with his hands. Lucie’s eyes search his and she feels comforted that this isn’t it for them. She nods, then steps backwards, letting his hands fall from his face.

From the way he looks at her before he leaves, Lucie knows nothing between them will ever be the same.

[copperbadge]

[ID: Sitting on my workbench, in front of my Singer sewing machine, is a messenger bag made from quilted squares of fabric featuring Captain America shields and stars-and-stripes themes. The central flap of the bag is cream-colored with the Cape Shark logo printed on it, a line-art shark whose back half turns into an outline of Cape Cod.]

Got lots to do today for NaClYoHo but it's going to be spread out; I'm not a huge fan of that because the point is never to do Too Much in a day by limiting the time you spend on it, which is harder to do when it's numerous little tasks throughout the day. Still, every so often, you just have to run some errands.

In any case part of cleaning for me is trying to finish off craft projects, and this is one that also uses up a bunch of fabric and patches I'd been trying to find a use for. I call it my "Cape-tain AmeriShark" messenger bag; it's a large quilted messenger bag featuring a recycled tote bag, some fabric I got on sale, some shirts I wore to pieces, and a couple of rad patches. The shoulder strap attaches with carabiners threaded through machine-sewn buttonholes, making it easily removable and interchangeable, and it has two internal pockets for stashing important papers and/or delicious snacks.

(This is incidentally what I was sewing when I snapped the needle.)

Anyway I finally finished it this morning when I added the strap and hand-sewed the buttons for the flap closure onto it -- I hate hand-sewing buttons The Most, so I always put it off -- so now I have a new bag!

[femmedaraya]

Welcome back to my series breaking down my Talald cosplay, the details and techniques that helped it win Journeyman at ACen, and how you can use these for your own competitive work! In this post I'm talking about all the hidden snaps on this costume.

This series is primarily made for intermediate cosplayers who have some sewing experience under their belt. It's less of a tutorial and more of a build log with tips.

At my day job, we use a lot of snaps in the costumes we make to keep things together, from gloves to collars to detachable accessories. My theatrical background is also snap laden—button up shirts are commonly quick-rigged with them to make costume changes faster behind the scenes. Their wide range of sizes and colors makes them extra handy!

Here's the finished collar piece of the costume compared to an earlier pattern draft. I needed it to connect in the center to create the little mandarin collar on top, but I also wanted to keep the center flat to match the pictures I was referencing.

(Note: Throughout VE and SBB she's drawn with a varying number of collar scallops, anywhere from 4 to 8. I chose 8.)

So, how'd I do it?

Using lots of little snaps reduces bulk, allowing pieces to lie flat, and gives me precise control over where everything sits. To keep it hidden, I put a decorative seam on the other side of the middle scallop. If you want to hide a closure or seam but can't make it fully disappear, give it a friend or two and pretend they're all decorative. It's a nifty way to make judges ask themselves "how does this work?" and then surprise them with the answer!

I also used snaps to keep my sleeves from riding up past the tops of my gloves:

(Don't mind the purple marks, I use purple disappearing fabric pens. This was taken when the ink was fresh)

And also to fasten some straps under my arms that kept my tabard in place:

I do need to replace these ones with larger snaps though, they kept coming undone all day.

Part 1

Thanks for reading!

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Rhapsody in Teal - 4

“Glad you’re feeling better,” Ace says through a mouthful of sandwich (so it comes out missing most of the sharper consonant sounds). “Deuce thought you were dead.”

“I did not!”

Ace laughs and then starts coughing. “Dude, you take everything so seriously.”

You manage to laugh a bit. “Thanks, people.”

Then Ace looks at something over your shoulder and goes a bit pale.

“Wh-” You turn around and find yourself face to face with Floyd. Rather, with the buttons on the front of Floyd’s shirt, because he is very tall and you are sitting down.

“Shrimpyyyy,” he whines. “I’m booored.”

Why this is your problem will forever remain a mystery. “Okay?”

“Let’s go find Jade!”

It’s your turn to go pale. “I’m kinda busy-”

“Nahh, you’ve been nursing the same bite of spaghetti for twenty minutes. You’re fine.” He smiles gleefully and then, without warning, wraps an arm around your torso and hoists you out of your seat.

“What th- put me down!” You scramble to tug your shirt down. It wasn’t tucked in quite as well as you thought.

There’s no reasoning with him, so you throw a frantic look at Ace and Deuce.

“Nice knowing you,” says Ace with a wave goodbye. “Fs in the chat, sad reaccs only.”

You vow revenge if you survive whatever Floyd is going to do next.

Fortunately, when he skips joyfully into his dorm’s lounge and drops you unceremoniously on one of the leather sofas so that your head collides with Jade’s kneecap, Jade is just as shocked as you.

Several questions fight for dominance on his face. He finally settles on, “Why are you like this?”

“Welkies.” Floyd continues his skipping down the hallway, where you expect a panicked shriek to follow at any moment.

Jade sighs as you sit up and sort yourself out. You get your hair under control, but as you’re straightening out your vest, you realize the top button has disappeared. It must have been ripped off when Floyd picked you up.

“I apologize for his actions,” Jade says in the weary tone of one who has said these words for years.

No matter how much you try to adjust your vest, the missing button causes it to sit just wrong enough to make it extremely obvious what you’re trying to hide. Even buttoning your coat over it doesn’t really help enough. “Shit…”

“I can fix it, if you like.” Jade turns slightly so his back faces the room, subtly hiding you from the view of anyone who might be looking.

You’re in no position to decline this offer, so you just nod. He hands you two large textbooks, which you hug to your chest as if they’re going to keep you breathing, and you follow him down the hallway. You worry that you’re going to run into Floyd again, but then you hear Azul snap at him from the housewarden’s wing, which is the other direction, and you feel a little better.

Meanwhile, it doesn’t escape your notice that any wayward Octavinelle students all but throw themselves out of Jade’s path. Several cast you looks of pity, and it dawns on you that it must look like you’re being hazed - carrying his books and following at his heels like a leashed puppy. You would expect this reaction to Floyd’s presence, certainly, but for some reason, you didn’t think they would be as afraid of Jade. You wonder if you should be afraid, too.

He unlocks the door to his room and leads you inside.

It’s clean and organized to a fault - even his shoes are neatly arranged at the foot of the bed. He takes the books from you and sets them on his desk, then opens a drawer and retrieves a small sewing kit.

You shed your blazer easily enough and place it in a crumpled heap on the table, but for some reason when it comes to unbuttoning your vest, you find yourself incredibly embarrassed. You turn away from him shyly as you struggle with it. You feel like you might as well be wearing a tube top and a push-up bra instead of your oversized, long sleeved uniform shirt.

Jade takes the vest from you without a word and lays it on the desk, arranging it so he can get to work. You cross your arms over your chest out of habit - a habit you’ve tried to break to avoid drawing attention to yourself - but after a minute, you’re too curious to see what he’s doing.

“Do you like to sew?” you ask.

“Mm. It is less a hobby and more a necessary skill, I’ve found,” he says a little distantly. “My clothing has suffered no small amount of damage from being outdoors.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” You don’t know if you like to sew.

“Would you like to try?” He looks at you expectantly.

Your hands slide down from your shoulders a few inches as some of the tension leaves you. “I guess,” you say.

“It is quite easy.” Jade stands, gesturing for you to take the only chair. You feel unsteady as you lower yourself into it. “I have already secured the thread and placed the anchor point.”

Sure enough, a small gold ‘x’ of thread marks the spot on the vest where the previous button used to live. He rifles through a small tray of buttons before selecting one, which he hands to you. It’s gold, like the others, but shaped like a snail shell, with two tiny holes drilled through it. You set it against the x and awkwardly try to push the needle through it from the back. It keeps running into the button at first, but you finally get it. You push it through the other side easily enough.

You start to pull the golden thread tight, but Jade stops you briefly. He selects another needle and tucks it beneath the button.

“A trick I learned from Azul’s mother,” he says with a soft, nostalgic smile that hovers quite near your shoulder. “It creates enough space for the layer of fabric to fit around it, otherwise it would not stay attached, or break off again very quickly.”

You nod and continue. Bit by bit, listening to Jade’s advice, you sew the same stitch over itself a dozen times, until you’re certain it’s never coming apart. And you only impale your finger with the needle three times.

Jade severs the thread with a tiny pair of scissors. And just like that, it’s done.

“All better.” He chuckles. “Easy enough, yes?”

“Yeah. I’m still glad I didn’t try to do it on my own, though.” You’re about to reach for the vest, but Jade holds it aloft for you. You turn away from him and slip your arms through the openings. His fingertips brush the tops of your clavicles as he aligns the seams on your shoulders, his touch delicate yet certain, even through the leather of his gloves.

He never took them off. So he intended to have you do it all along.

You fasten the buttons and turn around to show him, rubbing the back of your neck and looking away as embarrassment creeps over you again. “Looks good,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Jade tilts his head curiously, one hand coiled beneath his chin.

Um, yes. “It’s not you- your fault, I mean. Um.” Your voice fades to nearly nothing. “I really…really like you.” You cringe and brace yourself for you don’t know what.

When you don’t hear any derisive laughter, though, you take a chance and look at him. His smile is captivating, drawn tighter on one side in a way equal parts delighted and devilish. You catch sight of a tiny dent on his bottom lip, and you realize it must be from the point of a tooth.

“How fortunate for me,” he says with a bubbly laugh. “As I find you quite charming, myself.”

It would be all too easy to overthink his response, so that is exactly what you do. With a side order of self-esteem issues, please.

“You sure it’s not ’cause I’m the only girl here?” Admitting your feelings already felt like ripping off a band-aid, so why stop there?

“Would it surprise you to learn that I have dated other students before?”

Actually, yeah, that’s a big surprise. Now you just feel judgmental. “Maybe.”

He shrugs. “Feelings are feelings.” And he seems content to leave it at that.

“Well, um. Yeah. That’s a good point.” You pull your blazer back on and clear your throat for no reason. “Do you still wanna go? To the dance, I mean?”

His smile evens itself out. “It would be my pleasure.”

1 | 2 | 3 | {4} | 5

[ridiasfangirlings]

Sarumi Gakuen K when Fushimi give his first button of his gakuran shirt to Yata when they graduate

It should be second, shouldn’t it? That’s the one for romantic love. Imagine Fushimi and Yata are getting ready to graduate and they’ve of course had the usual relationship ups and downs, they were enemies for a while but now they’re back to being friends. Fushimi hasn’t confessed his real feelings to Yata though, assuming that there’s no way Yata would ever return his feelings after everything Fushimi’s put him through. They’re hanging out in Yata’s dorm a few days before graduation playing video games and Yata’s talking about how cool it is that they’re gonna be graduating soon, Fushimi smirks and says it’s amazing idiot Misaki passed. Yata’s all shut up and then he grumbles that just because Fushimi got into a fancy university. Fushimi shrugs and languidly says he doesn’t really care about university, Yata’s like no no you have to care and become someone even more amazing. Yata’s starting an apprenticeship after high school, it’s not too far from Fushimi’s university though so he hopes they can still see each other. Fushimi is fiddling with the buttons of his uniform as he makes a small noise of agreement, looking dissatisfied. He says he has to go back to his own dorm and as he gets up the second button falls off his uniform. Yata picks it up and is like wait this fell off, let me sew it back on for you. Fushimi looks at Yata for a long time and then tells Yata to ‘keep it.’

Yata thinks that’s weird and he just pockets the button, figuring Saruhiko is being weird right now and he’ll want this later. Fushimi continues to seem oddly distant for the next few days and even at graduation, Yata’s looking for him because he wants to like take pictures together. He runs into some of his friends from Homra and everyone’s congratulating him, Yata’s really proud of himself when even his former upperclassman Mikoto shows up to tell him good job. Yata asks by the way have you guys seen Saruhiko and one of the Homra guys is like oh yeah wasn’t Fushimi missing his second button on his uniform. Yata doesn’t get why that’s a big deal and he’s like oh yeah I have it here in my pocket. Immediately they’re all just staring at him and Yata’s like what. Kamamoto nervously leans in and quietly lets Yata know what giving the button means, Yata’s like wait no this isn’t that it just fell off…and Saruhiko told me to keep it. Everyone is still giving him a look as it slowly dawns on Yata what just happened here.

He says a quick goodbye to everyone and then goes running to find Fushimi. Fushimi’s already trying to sneak off campus (he’s trying to avoid his doting senpai Munakata who showed up with congratulation flowers). Yata practically tackles him to the ground as he’s like you dumbass why didn’t you just say something. Fushimi has no idea what Yata’s talking about and Yata’s face is all red as he mumbles that how was he supposed to know things if Fushimi doesn’t say them, he knows Yata isn’t very good at romance stuff. Fushimi tries to shrug him off like Yata’s just talking nonsense but Yata presses a fist to Fushimi’s chest, button clasped in his hand as he’s like I know what this means. Fushimi scoffs that Yata has no idea and Yata coughs as he’s like if—if you’re gonna confess then do it properly you idiot, or no one will understand. Fushimi coldly says Yata wouldn't have understood either way and Yata snaps that Fushimi doesn’t know that. Suddenly Yata just pulls the second button off his own uniform and hands it to Fushimi like here, do you get it now dumbass.

[orgasming-caterpillar]

RanveerXRaghav broken button trope

"You Know How To Sew?"

"Shit," Ranveer muttured under his breath.

Raghav's mother was out to visit some relatives for the day, and the boys had decided to gather up and play games at his house. It was going to be very fun. Emphasis on was.

"Kya hua?" Raghav asked from the sofa.

He couldn't see Ranveer's face, but he must have realised something was wrong.

"Karan ko puch kab tak aa rahe hain," Ranveer spoke tentatively.

"Kiya tha na call abhi. Bola panch minute mein aa jayenge wo sab."

"Shit," Ranveer swore again.

"Kya hua?" Raghav repeated. He looked back to see what was wrong with the other, only to see him holding up his own collar loosely. "Yeh kya hua?"

"Button toot gaya. Ab ghar pe jaake dusra pehenke aaunga utne mein late ho jayega bohot."

"Arey," Raghav tsked. "Ruk."

"If you think I'll wear one of your shirts you're severely mistaken-"

"You'll be lucky to have the chance, Ranveer Kashyap." He came back with a box of cookies in his hand. "Show me the button."

Did he mean to...?

Raghav snapped his fingers. "Oh hello, konsa button toota hai?" He took out a needle and black thread from the cookie box.

Ranveer asked, "You know how to sew?" To distract himself from the prickling at the back of his neck. To distract himself from the goosebumps rising on his arms. To distract himself from the way Raghav took the fabric in his hands, fingers dangerously close to brushing against Ranveer's chest, and put the button where it was supposed to be.

"When both your parents study art, you learn a thing or two about taking care of yourself." Raghav replied, not meeting his eyes. "And now shut up before I accidentally stab you with this needle and we find out it was actually poisoned and now I have no one to dance with."

Ranveer promptly shut up, but he could no longer control thoughts. Raghav was so close, so close, it Ranveer just dropped his head a bit their foreheads would touch. He wanted to.

If only it wasn't for the possibly poisoned needle in his hands.

He was mesmerized by the way Raghav's quick, nimble fingers moved. Pushing the needle inside and stopping just before it touched Ranveer's skin. Taking it out again to repeat.

Ranveer suddenly realised that his breathing had gone very silent, and sucked in a huge breath. Bad idea. It made the needle graze the flesh of his chest ever so slightly, but it stung nonetheless.

"Dhyan se," Raghav muttured without looking up.

He finished with the button, tying it in place. The small smirk that adorned his features then was at least a million dollars worth.

"Agli baar button todna mat. I'd much prefer a gentler approach," he said and walked away, leaving an open-mouthed, flustered Ranveer behind him.

[fried-eggs152]

One winter break morning started like non other, phineas Flynn and his step brother ferb fletcher sat in the backyard. Ferb wearing a black sweater with sewed on star’s and wrenches and such. Phineas on the other hand..did not want to wear a sweater or normally..pants. He wore what he usually worse since it wasn’t as cold for him. His shorts and striped shirt in the comfort of his own home too.

He swayed his arms up in the air huffing out as you could see his breath “ferb I don’t know what we’re gonna do today” he said shuffling himself to face his step-brother whome’s eyes were directed at phineas. The main course of attention, he smiled at sight, looking away as he played with his hands “ever wonder what it feels like to be a puppet?” He asks before.. ding! “Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today!” He said swiftly jumping on his own two feet “we can turn ourselves into sentient marionettes!” He says with a wide smile as ferb struck a thumbs up “great!” He turned around and almost as if on que Isabella Garcia came in scene hair almost frizzy as her pink sweater was a little bigger than her. “Hey phineas, whatcha dooing?” She asks swooning a little, he turned his attention to her wide smile almost shining like the sun “We’re turning ourselves into marionettes!” He said “wanna join?” He asks tilting his head.

Isabella hummed a little walking towards her one and only beloved “sure!” She said happily stuffing her hands in pocket quickly. “Great!!” The red headed boy exclaimed arms quickly lifting in the air “get the gang and me and ferb will start!” He said turning around and running to grab his toolbox.

__

With one quick writing the hours quickly passed the Marionette machine was done. “Hmm felt pretty quick dont you think?” He asks ferb, who was just as confused. “Writers surely don’t have the time to get into detail perhaps?” The British said. Phineas gave ferb a very confused look, he obviously didn’t know what ferb meant by details or writers in this fact. But Before he could even speak, Buford interrupted “what is this dinnerbell?” Buford asks, “we’re turning ourselves into marionettes! Care to join, Buford?” He asks a little too eagerly as he waved his hands back and forth. Buford who was holding baljeet like a suitcase faced his gaze to baljeet “what’s our schedule.” Buford asks his nerd As Baljeet looked at a piece of paper “nothing” he said casually as if this was a normal occurrence to be held like a suitcase and be a simple calendar. “Great! Ok!..hey where’s Perry?” Phineas looks around raising an eyebrow in confusion.

—

Heinz doofenshmirtz laughing out maniacally as his nemesis was trapped “ahh Perry the platypus. As you see your bosses screen wasn’t working. Yea?” He asks cheekily leaning on Perry’s pretty spacious trap. Perry the teal platypus, raised an eyebrow at Heinz in ways to say ‘no shit Sherlock’

Heinz rolled his eyes playfully “well I introduce you, the GONE-WRONG-INATOR!” He yells, dramatically uncovering a brand new shiny inator “you see Perry the platypus, you were sleeping last time I monologued. I’ve always had bad luck. Also proven by my entire house exploding” he rambled out of context before snapping right back “besides that. I had given myself good luck for a day. Great by the way” he said chuckling “but I’ve decided why not give everyone a taste of everything they do going wrong!! What it’ll do is whatever they’re doing will go horribly wrong at that exact moment!” He said cackling. Putting his hands on his hips “but i am out of buttons so it’s just set at random shooting..” he sighed turning around “but it’s not like we haven’t shot random beams already!” He shrugged off. Perry rolled his eyes looking around of ways he could get out.

And atlas! There was. Heinz forgot to lock the cage. He swung the door open in a calm matter as Heinz turned his gaze “huh..” he let out, resting his chin on his hand “I knew I was forgetting something” he said eyelids lowering as if he’s feeling remorse for himself. Quickly he was kicked in the chest by a platypus. Letting out a grunt he was not letting this get him. He got right back up and grabbed Perry by the hands “you thought you got me this time hmmm Perry the platypus?” He said pinning the platypus to the floor. “Well not this time!!” He said chuckling out. Perry growled out trying his most to squirm out. Heinz being as tall as he is picked up Perry by the hands “watch as I cause pure chaos in the Tri-state area!!” He said walking to his inator and pressing a button. The inator powered up coming to life, turning its nob around and right to a neighbourhood.

—

Phineas was starting up the machine too ferb who was more then willing to become a puppet first. “Alright curb try not to- move?? To much!” He said happily.

He walked over to Buford baljeet and Isabella watching the machine warm up and prepare itself. Watching the machine with proud in his eyes he felt dread wash over him.

Something wasn’t right and it felt awful to phineas. The machine was perfectly ok but it felt wrong. “I’m..” he muttered out before walking over to ferb and pushing him out of the targeted ground “actually..something..” he proceeded to mumbled looking at the machine.. minutes..it would only take a press of a button to complete the process. But phineas felt lost about this dreading emotion “somethings wrong.” He said Turing his gaze to the rest of his friends. Buford and baljeet looked at each other concerned “just a second ago you were all happy about this” Buford proceeds “suddenly the vibe feels off-“ Buford adds placing baljeet down. Baljeet noted the thick atmosphere.

Phineas shrugged “I’ll just analyze the machine before we shoot ourselves with it . Make sure there’s a chance to turn back y’know?” He said.

Silence felt deafening. But before Isabella could mutter a word out a purple beam hit the machine catching everyone’s attention. The machine shook and let out zaps of electricity “that can’t be good” baljeet proceeded. The machine started breaking down which of course was not expected “I guess we could always make another I mean didn’t take me and ferb that l-“ interrupted by being shot by his own creation. And with of course an initial amount of fear because his machine was now in many random pieces “uh oh-“ he simply let out before shrinking in size.

He was now a perfectly fine marionette done with no way of turning back.

—-

Man don’t I enjoy little stories for some random art!

Marionette was inspired by that big version of Isabella’s marionette!

Part 2 maybe?

FYI I wasn’t really trying to make this story good :’]

[circle--of--confusion]

Wanna Bewitch You In The Moonlight

Another Dracopia fic with my OC Sarah! This one got away form me oh boy. I hope y'all enjoy!

Summary: Copia and Sarah have spent so much time together but they are always either too tired or keep getting interrupted when they try to take things further and have their first time having sex as a couple. What are you to do when both of your jobs are very important?

[This takes place right after the first fic "The Cardinal and the Seamstress" but before Terzo and my OC Amelia have got back together for their story]

This can be read on it's own for the most part, but here is my origional fic for them if you haven't read it and want to lol.

Words: 10.7k

Read On AO3

MASTERLIST

Warnings/Tags: explicit/18+, established relationship, dracopia, flashbacks, so much neck kissing wow!, first times as a couple, blood drinking, fluff, smut [vaginal fingering, oral sex [f receiving], hand job, vaginal sex]

There’s a bundle of fabric on Sarah’s desk when she walks in to the studio on Monday morning. Her eyebrows knit together as she walks closer to inspect the pile. Shirts? Alex and Amelia, fellow co-worker and boss [though she considers them to be friends too], walk in after her to their desks that also have piles of fabric.

“Oh!” Amelia calls over to Sarah once she realizes Sarah is at a loss for what to do. “You haven’t been here long enough to experience this!” Amelia walks over to Sarah’s desk, giddy. “Every few weeks we have clothes delivered to the sewing department that need to be repaired or mended. Or sometimes straight up re-made if they’re that attached to the style.”

Alex looks up from his desk where he’s sorted the clothes based on what needs more effort and less effort. “Copia’s suits took priority so this is your first time, awwww.” He responds playfully. Sarah rolls her eyes.

Amelia jumps in. “Which means, we get to play my favorite game… drumroll please, Alex!” Alex taps his hands on the desk rapid-fire then stops and they both yell simultaneously like game show hosts. “Lust! Or! Wrath!”

Her eyes go wide and she laughs. “What?”

Amelia’s back to her desk and sits down. “I noticed when I’d been working here for a bit, that most of our mending is sewing buttons to go back on shirts. This made me have two thoughts. One: I should consider snaps in the future. And two: is this a frustrated clergy member or a sexually frustrated clergy member’s shirt?” Her eyebrows comedically rise a couple times. She sighs with a hand wave. “It helped to pass the time.”

“Depending on the time of the year, we have a lot to fix.” Alex chimes in from his spot, already meticulously stitching on a button. He stops to look up at Amelia, pointing off in the distance in thought. “Do you remember The Great Valentines Fabric Massacre of 2015?”

Amelia shudders. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I swear, my hands were cramped for a week!” She groans.

Sarah nods and sits down at her desk. “Well, I guess I’ll uh, get to work!” She looks over the stack and finds a pair of pants, a handful of button ups, and a couple habits that need their hems fixed from dragging on the ground. Over the next half hour the trio work in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from either their exasperation when the thread comes loose from the needle eye or the sounds of their scissors snipping thread. Sarah’s eyes drift occasionally to her bag where her personal mending project lies at the bottom of her bag. Maybe she can find a way to throw it onto her desk without drawing attention. Alex and Amelia can be nosy.

Her hands drift down to grab the shirt from her bag and she flinches when Amelia cackles. “Look here, I have a shirt from Cardinal Alister and Cardinal Brian.” She looks up with a knowing smirk.

Alex gasps. “Good for them. I know Cardinal Brian just got out of a rough break-up and I heard rumblings of a possible date between those two the other day.” He tilts his head, smiling.

Sarah is almost done dragging her shirt into her lap when Amelia breaks her focus. “Speaking of dates… How did your big date with Copia go, Sarah?” she looks directly at Sarah who is blushing a deep shade of red while her shirt is caught halfway between her bag and the desk. Amelia smiles like a cheshire cat. “I can assume it went well?”

Caught red-handed. “Y-Yeah. It went, uh, well.” Sarah mumbles out.

◊◊◊◊◊

11 DAYS EARLIER

Sarah woke up snuggled against Copia’s body, his arm is wrapped around her stomach. They fell asleep spooning, the adrenaline and energy draining from her the moment they got back to his room after his first Ritual as head of the Ghost Project. She expected they would’ve been able to stay awake to talk about the experience but the moment she laid down in his arms, a yawn betrayed her and she was a goner. The last thing Sarah remembers from last night before she fell into a deep sleep was the feeling of Copia’s lips in her hair and a soft whisper of “goodnight, Sarah.”

Sarah’s dreams, however, were very active. Her inner most desires while she slept helped to fill in the blanks of what she wished they could’ve done last night. She now knows what his mouth feels like on her and where his hands like to roam. It’s plagued her mind since their date and lazy day together a handful of days ago. She dreamt of what it might feel like with him kissing other parts of her body without her clothes getting in the way. Would his lips linger on her chest? Sarah wonders if he would grab her thighs or hips to hold her in place.

She imagines his fangs would find a way to poke out, an involuntary reaction in his lust-fueled mission to ravish her body. Dream Copia had a particularly enjoyable time kissing her above and below. His hands caressed her body, one on her thigh and the other on her hip as he licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts. And deep down at the very bottom of her mind, she wants to experience Copia drinking her blood again. It’s always on the forefront when he kisses her neck.

She feels a growing desire in her, now fully awake and tingling. Sarah can still feel his hands from her mind, no wait, his hands are actually lightly dragging along her left side while she lays on her right in front of him. Her eyes fully open, taking in her surroundings; Copia’s body is pressed close to her back.

Copia hums. “Good morning, amore. Are you finally awake?” He whispers, lightly kissing the top of her shoulder. His left hand that was trailing up and down her side rests on Sarah’s hip.

She turns around to her left side to face Copia and hums her response. Her right hand moves up to hold his face while she leans forward to kiss him good morning. His mouth tastes faintly of copper and apple juice? “You were amazing last night, Copia.”

He smirks. “I was hoping you would be able to say that about more than just my singing when you woke up this morning.”

Sarah blushes. “I’m sorry for falling asleep.”

He shrugs his left shoulder. “It’s probably better for us that you got your rest.” His hand, previously on her hip, snakes it’s way behind her back and he rolls her over, pinning her to the bed on her back while he hovers over her body. “But! I have you now for a few minutes at least before you have to go off to work. Lucky me, I finally get a break from everything today.” He kisses Sarah’s lips softly before starting a trail down to her neck where he stops to suck and nibble lightly on the healed flesh from where he drank her blood a few days prior.

Sarah’s hand grips into his hair, holding him in and encouraging him to keep his lips there. Copia gladly complies, groaning when she scratches lightly on his scalp. He moves to settle between her spreading legs, one arm holding him up while his other roams up and down her side squeezing slightly at her hips. Sarah softly squeals and wiggles in her spot under Copia’s hold. His ministrations on her neck have turned from light nips to determined kisses. She feels a light poke of his teeth on the sensitive flesh, aware his fangs have introduced themselves to the situation. She smiles and her fingers in Copia’s hair tug lightly. “Copia…” She rasps, leaning her neck over to give his mouth more room to roam.

He hums a breathy “Sarah…” in response. He feels overcome with a growing lust at her scent, his hips begin to roll against her body on their own volition as he grows in arousal. Copia breathes heavily against her neck, intoxicated by her presence.

Sarah is lost in their hazy moment of groping and kissing. A part of her realizes she needs to get up soon and get ready for work but then she gets lost again in the weight of Copia’s body on hers and the way he’s moving over her. His fangs drag lightly on her neck, teasing, making sure not to puncture the skin. She’s also now aware of the hardening bulge down below between Copia’s legs as he rolls against her. It thrills her to know he’s as desperate for her as she is for him. “Oh, Copia… I need you.” she sighs. “Please.”

He nods against her neck and pulls her closer to him. “Me too, amore.” Copia moves up to look into her eyes. “I would love to-“

♫ You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life! Oohhhh ♫

Copia’s eyes shoot wide open. “Shit! My alarm!” He scrambles off of Sarah to grab his phone and ends up falling off the bed onto his back on the floor. He rushes to stand up and walks over to his phone on the nightstand to turn off the intrusion. Copia slaps his hand over his face, rubbing slightly. “Ugh, I just remembered that I have a meeting today with Sister Imperator and I need to brief the ghouls of last night’s ritual.” He looks over to Sarah on his bed and she hums as her only response. Her eyes are distracted by something and when he follows the line, it’s to the veryobvious tenting in his sweatpants while he stands in front of her.

She giggles, her eyes locked across the room at his crotch. “Okay.” When Sarah looks up at Copia’s face, he looks exasperated.

“Really?” He asks.

She puts her hands in her face and shakes it before putting them back down. “It looked at me first!” She yells and Copia scoffs. “It’s distractingly big and very obvious, Copia! What was I supposed to do? Not look at it?” She sees his eyes flare when she says ‘big’ and stalks closer to her, tilting his head.

“This is what you do to me, dolcezza.” he pouts. “And then you torture me by laughing?”

Sarah’s hands rise to touch up his stomach to his chest over his shirt and Copia flinches slightly from the contact. “What are you going to do? Punish me?” She smiles seductively.

♫ Mama Mia, here I go again! My, my, how can I resist you? ♫

He groans. Very fitting Sarah thinks.

“Well not now.” he rolls his eyes. “I really need to get ready for the day now and you, my amore, need to get to work.” He kisses the top of her head and leans down to her ear. “You better go before I change my mind.” Copia smiles, gives Sarah a peck on the cheek, and turns to the bathroom to shower.

She stands, flustered, and gathers herself to leave so she can get ready for work. As she walks out of his room, Sarah can hear faint whistling echoing from behind the bathroom door. She laughs and closes the front door of his room behind her.

For the entire day, Sarah had “Dancing Queen” stuck in her head.

◊◊◊◊◊

When he saw Sarah that evening to have dinner, they didn’t speak of what had happened this morning. She greeted him like normal, a quick kiss on the lips, and walked inside to sit down on the couch. She’s asked what movie they would watch after eating and he responded without missing a beat. He couldn’t help but notice, though, that she looked a bit flushed upon walking in and jumped a couple times when he placed a hand on her to cuddle on the couch. They may not have spoken about what happened this morning, but the knowledge of it just sorta floated in the air.  

The next couple nights went along much smoother. Some of the tension in the air had dissipated and now the two are cuddling on his couch with an old movie playing on his box tv. Eventually the movie became ignored by the couple as they were more into focusing on each other. Sarah had initiated first by looking up at him halfway through the movie and placed a small kiss on the underside of his jaw. He leaned his head back as she continued to plant small kisses on Copia’s neck and one thing led to another. Sarah moved to sit in his lap to straddle him. Her hand holds onto the back of his head while the other rubs lightly on his chest. Copia’s hands have planted themselves on her waist. She adjusts herself to be flush with his body, not feeling like she’s close enough.

“Mmm, amore, you seem very determined tonight.” Copia moans, leaning his neck further to the side to give Sarah more access as she alternates kissing his lips or his neck. He feels her teeth bite down slightly and he whimpers. The sensations of Sarah’s mouth on his neck and exploring hands on his chest are being sent straight down to his dick. If he doesn’t get relief soon, he just might explode. He hasn’t had time to bring up the other morning so they can see where things might’ve gone. Sarah giggles into his neck before she leans back to look into his eyes. Her lips are puffy from the kisses and her pupils are blown wide open from lust for him. He thinks she looks divine.

“I can’t help it. You are way more interesting than the movie.” She smiles. He leans up to share a short kiss.

“Would you like to move things to the bedroom?” Copia teases, rubbing his thumb on her waist. “I feel like we have some uh, unfinished business from the other day...” He smirks.

Sarah smiles and nods rapidly. “I would lo-“

A loud trio of bangs on his door breaks their bubble. Copia knits his eyebrows together, getting up when Sarah moves off his lap. He walks awkwardly, shifting his half-hard dick in his sweats so he doesn’t scare whoever is at the door. A couple more impatient knocks bang on his door before Copia can get it open.

“Papa?” Copia gasps. Secondo is standing at his door, scowling. “What are you- I mean why are you..?”

“I found this,” he holds up his cupped hands “,roaming around in my record collection. She was nibbling on my mint condition Abba records.” Secondo holds up one of Copia’s rats.

He gasps. “My baby!” Copia quickly moves to grab at the small animal, softly scolding her. “Mi dispiace, Papa. I hadn’t realized she got free.”

Papa grumbles. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He bows his head slightly. “Goodnight.”

Copia nodded his head quickly as Secondo walked away. He nudged the door closed and made quick work of putting his mini escape artist back in her cage, double checking the lock, and then walked out to the living room. Sarah has stood up and looks like she’s ready to go back to her room.

“Are you leaving?” Copia asks, pleading for her to stay.

Sarah sighs. “I should probably head out. We’re in the thick of it with sewing your suits at the studio. I need to make sure I’m rested so I don’t make any mistakes.”

He looks down, defeated. Copia walks over to Sarah and leans down for a goodnight kiss. She chases his lips briefly when they part. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Sarah nods. “Of course.”

◊◊◊◊◊

“What cosmic entity out there keeps cock-blocking you two with Abba?” Alex remarks.

“I don’t know! I like Abba, too.” Sarah huffs.

She feels pent up. Five days have passed by since Copia’s ritual and they still haven’t found a way to consummate the occasion. At least not together. Her entire life has been consumed by her Copia this week but she hasn’t had time to be with him in person long enough to take the next step in their relationship. It’s not like he’s lounging around eating bon-bons, either. They exchange quick texts throughout the day, in-between sewing breaks and meetings or rehearsals. He sounds just as desperate as she is.

-----

Copia 2:35pm

My love, how are you this afternoon? I ache to see you once again and have you in my arms. I’ve been feeling like a coil that’s been wound tight.

Sarah 2:44pm

Me too. I’ve had to uh, take care of myself on my own, if you catch my drift.

Copia 2:46pm

Oh? Amore you can’t get me so riled up at a time like this. I’m rehearsing with the ghouls right now. They can smell when I’m horny and they say it’s not a great sight.

Sarah 2:47pm

So I shouldn’t tell you all about how I used my fingers on me as if they were yours? ;)

Copia 2:49pm

You should. In great detail, actually! Though, I am a visual and hands-on learner…

Sarah 2:50pm

I’ll keep that in mind.

Copia 2:52pm

You are so cruel me, Sarah. This rehearsal is not going to go well and it will be all your fault. ;)

-----

Later that evening, she’s the last to leave the studio and locks up. She notices something in the corner of her eye but when Sarah looks up to see, it’s gone. She moves on further down the hall shaking her head. A trick of the light she thinks. A woosh of air passes behind her and she’s grabbed from behind, a sturdy arm snakes around her waist to pull her snug to their chest. The other arm rises to put their hand on her chin, holding her in place.

“Did you think you could tease me like that earlier today and get away with it?” A husky voice whispers into her ear.

Copia Sarah realizes. She takes a breath. “Are you going to do anything about it?”

Copia nuzzles onto the side of her face. “I am, dolcezza.” He walks them over to an alcove down at the end of the hallway. “Though I’m not sure if I have the patience to start until we get to my room.” She gasps.

She’s turned around and Copia captured her lips with a furious kiss; it’s full of passion and urgency. She hums into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Sarah’s tongue pokes over to his lips, asking to deepen the kiss. She feels his fangs on her tongue and gasps as he opens his mouth wider; they drag along once he begins to mouth down her jaw. He breathes in a deep breath before pulling away. Sarah takes a step back, hitting the hard brick of the wall behind her. Copia leans down to kiss her neck, inhaling a deep breath at her scent. One of Sarah’s hands holds his head in place and the other holds his side. He presses his body into Sarah’s, trapping her against the wall. Some of his frustration feels like it’s dissipated by being able to hold her. His frantic movements become still with the feeling of her body on his.

“I missed this. Missed You.” Copia mumbles into her neck. His hands hold Sarah in place by her hips. “My room stopped smelling like you yesterday.” He shudders out a sigh.

For a moment the pair simply hold each other, enjoying the feel of their lover’s body in their hands. They’ve both been stressed and over-worked and this brief moment of peaceful silence feels like a gift from the Lucifer himself.

“Copia.” Sarah whispers. “Let’s go back to your room now, hm?”

He leans back to look at her, gazing sleepily into her eyes. “That is music to my ears, amore.” He smiles and grabs her hand, pulling her away and down in the direction of his room. “And I should know!”

They’re excited, giggling away when a voice calls down the hall. “Oh, Cardinal! Do you have a word?” Copia and Sarah stop in their tracks, both groaning internally. Sister Imperator.

“Go to my room and get comfortable, please.” He kisses her knuckles before removing his hand from hers. “I’ll be back soon.” Sarah nods and walks off, hearing the strained greeting he gives to Sister.

Once she gets to his room, she finds a pair of her pajama pants and puts them on. For a bit she wanders around his room, admiring the books or knickknacks she hadn’t had time to look at in the past. She walks over to the sprawling cage set-up where he keeps his rats. They squeak happy noises at her as she comes over to give them some attention. “Our Copia should be home soon, little ones.”

Sarah then lets out a loud yawn and decides to lay down in his bed for the rest of the wait. The plush, luxurious feeling of his bed along with the lingering scent of Copia’s body soap and cologne in the sheets lull her into a deep sleep before she knows it

◊◊◊◊◊

When Copia is finally back into his room, he heaves a tired sigh. Sister Imperator wanted an update on the rest of the album and it took much longer than he expected. However, the sight that greeted him once he entered his room had him swooning. Sarah, his love, is bundled up under his comforter and sleeping soundly against his pillows. After he washed off the black paint around his eyes, he changes into sweats and a t-shirt before joining her under the covers. As if she could sense his presence in bed, Sarah moves to lay her head down on top of Copia’s chest and wraps her arm around his waist. He chuckles at the small, content hum once she settles in her new position.

Copia and Papa Terzo are walking together to a meeting the following morning. He’s lamenting about the recent week of failure to take anything further past very passionate kissing with Sarah.

“Why don’t you just say ‘fuck it’ and take a day off, Copia?” Terzo asks bluntly. “Whisk her away and have your way with each other, eh?”

Copia scoffs. “I would if I could. Sister Imperator has been breathing down my neck to get this album finished.” He exhales a long sigh. “And I couldn’t make Sarah take a day off of her job just to have sex!”

“Why not?”

“Papa.”  

Terzo grumbles. “You can still find a way to make timefor her, Copia.” He insists, looking over to make his point. He places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Things are only going to get more chaotic from here. You need to make the initiative for the both of you.”

The two round a corner, walking by a few clergy members. Terzo receives a couple flirty “hello Papa”s from siblings along with a sarcastic eye-roll from Amelia who’s passing by them as she heads to the studio. Terzo wiggles his gloved fingers at her, waving as she walks by them.

Copia rolls his eyes as well. “I think you need to take your own advice, Papa.”

Terzo hums and shakes his head. “No, I can’t. My amore isn’t like yours, Cardinale. Amelia is skittish. I need to make her come to me.” He swats his hand in the air. “Don’t worry, though. I have a plan.”

Copia eyes Terzo. Oh no.

The following evening, Copia sits in on his scheduled confessional duty. He’s sat by himself for most of it. A couple siblings have come by to discuss their sins and celebrate them in the name of Satan. I should’ve brought a book he thinks. The sound of the latch on the other side moving breaks his train of thought. Footsteps softly thud and then the bench creaks signaling the occupant has sat down. Copia sits up straight in anticipation for what they will say.

“Forgive me, Papa, for I have not sinned.” A soft, familiar voice fills the booth.

Copia doesn’t realize he’s let out a surprised “Oh!” and Sarah gasps on the other side of the screened enclosure.

“Copia! I- uh. I thought one of the Papas was on duty tonight?” She sounds terrified. He can see through the mesh screen that her hands slap up to cover her face despite the already given privacy.

He shifts awkwardly on his bench. “Ah, no, dolcezza. It’s my night tonight.” Sarah hums. “Please tell me what’s bothering you, though.”

Sarah lets out a quick huff. “Can we uh, pretend it’s not you right now?” she winces.

Copia knits his eyebrows together. He can sense the anxiety in the air. “Ah, o-ok.” He shifts briefly, sitting up straight and moving to look forward. “Um. What’s been on your mind, sorella? You said you have not sinned?”

There’s silence for a handful of seconds. “No… I have not. At least, not the particular one I would like to do.”

Copia is stunned. “Do you wish to elaborate?”  

“Well. I haven’t been able to enjoy some personal time with my, uh, boyfriend.” She clears her throat. “We recently got together after a few weeks of shy back and forth.” Copia smiles at that. “It’s been exhilarating but we’ve only ever made it up to the kissing and groping parts of our alone time.”

Copia chuckles silently to himself. “And you want to do more than that?”

“Yes. So much more.” Sarah admits. “I like the kissing, though. But we keep getting interrupted when things seem like they’re going further. It’s very frustrating.”

“I’m sure he agrees.” Copia nods, agreeing.

“I mean, once I get back to my room, I can only relieve the tension with my fingers so many times.” Sarah casually responds.

Copia feels like his tongue is caught in his throat. He can only nod silently, agreeing. “Yes, exactly.” He chokes out. “Mhm.” Terzo’s words from the day before pop back into his mind. “You need this man to make time for you, it seems.”

“It would help if I wasn’t so tired from work, too. I’ve been a bit busy.” She sighs.

Because of me Copia half scolds himself. “I see.”

“And you- he’s been busy, too!” Sarah interjects. “We both just need, I don’t know, less important jobs.” They both laugh on their side of the booth. There’s a small moment of silence before Sarah softly says “Copia?”

“I’m sorry, amore.” he sighs. “But because of this, I think we’re due for another date now, Sarah.” He proposes.

Sarah hums. “What did you have in mind?”

“This Friday, three days from now, I will pick you up at your room and we’ll wine and dine. I’ll plan a dinner for us and then we will go back to my room to continue how we see fit.” His voice goes up in a playful tone towards the end. “What do you think?”

“I think I could be okay with that.” She responds back in jest.

“Molto bene. I will need you to take the day off, too, amore.” Copia demands.

She balks. “Copia.”

“We could both use a break, Sarah. And I don’t want you to be sleepy while I woo you to my bed.”

Sarah sits there for a moment. “Fine. I’ll try.”

◊◊◊◊◊

The next morning Sarah finishes the last few details of Copia’s suit she’d been sewing and looks up at Amelia while she’s lost in a trance of stitching. Last night she came up with an idea for an outfit to wear to her date and formulated an idea that might convince Amelia that she can sew a non-Copia project on the clock.

“I finished my suit, Amelia.” She calls.

“Oh good, you’re ahead of schedule!” She responds without looking up.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaims at too high a volume. “And uh, I was wondering. Since I’m ahead of schedule. Could I get Friday off?”

Amelia looks up from her machine; she has a blank expression and a kind of look in her eye that Sarah cannot decipher. “Any particular reason?”

She twiddles her thumbs together. “I have plans…”

“So soon? Did they just come up?”

“Yes...” Sarah cringes.

Amelia turns back to her machine to sew again. “Well, that’s just a pity. My rules state that any employee must give all time off requests at least two weeks in advance so I can tell you whether or not I am completely fucking with you.” She looks back up to Sarah and winks.

“What?” She looks shocked.

“I saw Copia as I made my way to the studio this morning. He asked me to give you Friday off from work and I knew you were going to finish the suit today, anyway.” Amelia reveals. “I told him I’d think about it.”

“Amelia, you are absolutely diabolical.” Alex chimes from his desk.

She smiles. “Thank you.”

“I- I was also wondering… Since I’m ahead. That I could make a date outfit with my free time?”

Amelia stops sewing. She looks up from her machine before shrugging. “Fuck it. sure.”

Sarah bolts up from her seat. “I’m going to go look for fabrics in the closet before you can change your mind!” her voice fades the further back she goes into the room. Around ten minutes later she emerges with a pile of fabric options.

“You’re going to voluntarily sew fabric that has sequins on them?” Alex questions.

“You went rifling through the Papa cabinet?” Amelia calls to Sarah.

She spins around to look at Amelia. “Those are the better fabrics!” Sarah argues, holding her hands up.

“I’m starting to question why I even put that there in the first place. When am I ever going to use blue sequin fabric for a Papa Ritual costume?” Amelia shakes her head.

Sarah makes quick work on a bodice with the sequin fabric, grumbling to herself the entire way. Alex laughs every time Sarah has to replace a sewing machine needle because it broke running over a rogue sequin she forgot to snip off. She’s up her third needle.

On Thursday afternoon, she’s happy clapping at her finished dress. A blue sequined bodice with satin off-shoulder sleeves and a gathered skirt made from the rest of the satin that ends at the knees. And it has pockets she squealed. The dress is carefully put in a black garment bag and she heads to her room in the evening, passing by Copia on her way.

“What’s in the bag, dolcezza?” He asks.

“It’s a surprise.” Sarah teases.

Copia chuckles, calling back “I wait with bated breath.”

Friday evening rolls around sooner than she expected when Copia proposed their date those days ago. She received a text to be ready at 6pm for him to pick her up and lead her to their destination. He’s kept all of the details under wraps.

A knock on the door takes her out of her thoughts. Sarah gets up and opens the door to reveal Copia, dressed in black pants with a tucked-in black button up. His sleeves are rolled up and the top buttons are open, showing some whisps of his chest hair. He smiles wide at Sarah’s dress, eyes flicking up and down. He takes a moment to admire the way she looks before responding.

“Oh, Sarah. You are beautiful!” he gasps. “I feel very underdressed now.”

She grabs his hand and rubs her thumb over it. “Please, don’t. I got carried away and wanted to make something special.”

He laughs. “You succeeded.” Copia holds out his other hand. “Shall we?”

Sarah nods. “Yes, we shall!” She walks with him, hand-in-hand to their date spot.

He leads them on a path that soon becomes familiar to her: Papa Primo’s garden. Towards the back, in a secluded, private part of the grounds, there is a gazebo that is accentuated with flower pots that hang off the rails of the structure. Soft fairy lights and lanterns are placed around to give light once the sun starts to set. Copia leads Sarah up the steps to a table he has set up with their food.

“I asked Papa if I could use this,” he gestures to the gazebo “,tonight. He’s secretly a romantic but don’t tell him I said that.” Copia winks as he pulls out a chair for Sarah to sit down.

“Mums the word.” She mimes zipping her mouth shut.

For a while the couple sit in silence, stealing glances to each other in-between bites. Copia takes a sip of his wine before breaking their bubble.

“I’ve been working on more music this week.”

Sarah looks up. “Oh, tell me about it!”

“It’s another instrumental. I want to combine synth and harpsichord.” His eyebrows jump up at the end.

“I’d love to hear it once it’s complete.”  

Their meal is finished shortly after, and a couple of Primo’s ghouls appeared to clean up the table. Thanking them, Copia held his arm out for Sarah and they began a short walk through the garden. The soft lights along the tall bushes illuminated their slow path. They settle on a bench, Copia’s arm stretches out to lay behind Sarah on his left. She leans into him, placing her right hand on his thigh.

Copia looks up, realizing something. “I think this is the bench you found me on all those weeks ago.”

She laughs softly. “And look how much has happened since then.” Sarah looks up at him to see him smiling at her. “Copia?”

“Yes, amore?”

Sarah giggles. “I can see your fangs poking out right now.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he blushes. “They have a tendency to do that when I’m too relaxed or very happy.” His hand behind her brushes her shoulder.

She feels too overwhelmed in that moment and looks down. “Oh.” Sarah looks back up. Copia pulls her towards him and leans down to kiss her. She smiles at the light graze of his fangs on her lips.

When Copia parts from her, Sarah brings her left hand up to his face to bring him back to her lips. He mirrors the “Oh” from Sarah earlier. He’s pulled Sarah practically on top of him now as he leans back against the armrest. Copia’s right hand moves to hold her down by her back and Sarah soon parts from him to take a breath; his eyes are still closed.

She takes a moment to look at him like this. Copia’s head is tilted back, a blissful smile on his face. The points of his fangs poke out from his lips. The soft lighting of the garden cast onto his face and she can manage to see a light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. She leans in to kiss one of the soft wrinkles on the side of his mouth.

“Should we go back to my room now?” Copia says, eyes still closed.

“Yes.” She nods. He stands up and holds out his hand for Sarah to hold. “Lead the way.”

There’s no rush to get back to his room. On their walk they each take turns to stop for a quick kiss on the lips or the bring the other’s hand to their lips for an absent-minded kiss.

Once they arrive at his door, she feels a somersault of emotions deep in her stomach. There’s an unspoken conversation word them as they walk into his room. Finally. They both toe off their shoes by the door and then Copia and Sarah move to face each other. There’s been a fury of want and need between them for days now. It’s all culminated to this moment and she feels as if it’s a calm before a storm. She stands in front of his door and looks to him.

Copia raises his hand and places it on her lower cheek. He licks his lips before looking into her eyes for any hesitancy before leaning down to kiss Sarah. This one feels different compared to the others. The journey of what could happen tonight between them begins with this kiss. He hums into her mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the situation; she’s already feeling weak in the knees.

Sarah’s arms wrap around Copia’s back to pull him closer and she feels him smile on her mouth. He takes his free arm to snake around her and starts to mouth to the edge of her lips, creating a trail of kisses down to her neck. She tilts her head to the side to give him more room. He breathes in at her neck and Copia feels renewed with passion; he pushes his body up against Sarah so that she’s pinned against the door. One of his hands on her back travel down to skim the curve of her butt and he holds his hand there to keep her on him. She revels in the feeling of his hold on her body,

Sarah can feel a stirring down below from Copia and she realizes he’s now slowly grinding his crotch into hers as he holds her to him. She sighs when the feeling of his teeth graze over her sensitive skin and one of her hands rises to his hair where she combs her fingers through it. She remembers something in that moment and Sarah tries to hold on a bit longer to tell Copia something before they carry on. “Copia…”

“Mhm?” Copia mumbles. Sarah doesn’t respond immediately so he pulls away to look at her, waiting.

“Oh…” She’s taken aback by the look in his eyes. The pupils are blown wide and his white eye almost looks as if it’s staring into her soul. I probably look like the same she thinks. Copia’s kiss-swollen lips rest slightly parted as he looks and waits.

He brushes the thumb of the hand still on her cheek over that spot it’s touching. “What do you need to say, amore?” Copia whispers.

She takes a breath. “I’m really looking forward to having sex with you.” Sarah smiles.

“As am I.” Copia agrees, encouraging her to continue.

“And I wanted to say that… If you wanted to bite me, to drink from me, you can.” Copia’s eyes open wide in surprise. “I want you to do it again.”

He grins. “I would love to.” Leaning down to place a short kiss, he mumbles on her lips “Would you like to take this somewhere else now?”

Sarah nods. “Can we go to your room?”

Copia smiles. “I think that can be arranged.” He takes her hand and leads the two of them through his apartment to his bedroom. When they stop in front of his bed, Copia’s hand reaches out to play with the loose skirt of Sarah’s dress. His eyes glance to her before asking “Would you let me help you out of your dress? I want you to be comfortablein my bed.”

She lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s actually not that awkward to wear.” Copia nods. “But yes, you can help me out of it.” Sarah nods.

Copia walks to stand behind her and puts his hands on top of Sarah’s shoulders. He rubs his thumbs on her bare shoulders and leans into kiss her head. Moving his hands quickly to the top of the zipper on the back of her dress, he begins pulling the tab down its path that stops at her lower back. He’s not sure how to pull it off Sarah’s body and pauses. “Eh, dolcezza...”

She giggles lightly. “Pull it up over my head, Copia.” She turns her head back to look at him.

“Ah!” She raises her arms up to help as he pulls the garment up Sarah’s body and lays it down carefully on a chair to the side. If Copia needed air to breathe, it would’ve been stolen from his lungs. All of the newly exposed skin he can see of Sarah’s has him in a frenzy. He wraps his arms around her waist and the touch of her soft skin under his hands feels heavenly. “Could I ask you one more thing? Well, two, technically.” He rests his chin on Sarah’s shoulder when he speaks next to her ear. Copia sways them both slightly as they stand.

I would do anything for you right now. “What is it?”

He moves Sarah’s body to turn her around. “Do you mind removing your underwear and then going to lay down on my bed for me?” He leans down to peck her cheek.

She’s too lost in the feeling of his thumb rubbing smooth circles on her waist to respond right away. “Y-yes. Yes. I can do that.”

“Bene.” Copia replies.

He lets her go and Sarah makes quick work on the last items. She sits down onto his comforter and scootches back to lay down against the pillows; the fabric feels lovely on her bare skin. Copia watches her every move like he’s trying to commit this sight to memory. When she settles in her spot, Sarah leans onto her left side and props herself up on the bed. “Now you.”

Copia walks closer to the bed, placing a knee near hers on the mattress. “In a moment. I just need to do…” He leans down to kiss Sarah’s lips in determination. She pulls him closer to her and he loses his balance, crashing down onto her body. They both let out groans at the sudden shift and he pecks a couple quick kisses to her lips before pulling back. “That.” They both laugh. “Well, the falling wasn’t planned.”

“Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” She pouts, running her fingers though his hair.

Copia moves to sit further down in-between her open legs and looks up into Sarah’s eyes. She hums and nods for him to keep going. His hands wander from her ankles up to caress the sides of her thighs. “Gorgeous.” he whispers to himself. Copia leans down to kiss her shoulder, propping himself up on one arm, and starts a path of kisses from there. He smacks loudly and dramatically, the tickly feeling of his mustache on her skin makes Sarah laugh and wiggle in her spot under his hold. He flicks up to look at her face: eyes closed with a smile.

He continues down Sarah’s chest, taking time at each breast to kiss and worship. He nibbles and bites down softly before running his tongue over it to soothe any pain; Sarah’s hand to grasp up at his head to have something stable to hold on to. She gasps softly and then sighs, running her fingers through his hair again. “Sarah…” Copia breathes out when she starts scratching at his scalp.

Copia carries on, pecking and kissing his way down, passing over her stomach to her hips then down further to her soft thighs. His hands take hold and he ends his journey in-between her legs to kiss different spots of her thighs. She opens her legs wider to accommodate the width of his head and shoulders while his mouth finds a particular spot to fixate on. Halfway down on the inside of her right thigh, Copia kisses, nibbles, and licks the spot into a quickly forming hickey. He bites down slightly with his teeth, breaking the skin this time and drawing a small amount of blood into his mouth. Sarah cries out and Copia holds up a hand for her to hold while her other now grasps the sheets. His tongue combined with the bite pain washing away help lull her back into a calmer state. Copia’s thumb rubs along her hand as a small distraction.

“Mi dispiace, amore. I wanted a small taste.” Copia looks up to check on Sarah. Her hair is ruffled from moving around on the pillow while she writhed against the fabric. “May I continue?”

“Please do.” Sarah sighs.

His eyes wander down from her face to the tops of her thighs where they meet. He leans down, following the enticing scent of her to the spot normally hidden by her clothes. Copia adjusts his body to sit on his knees in-between her legs. He’s tantalizingly close to the area she needs him to touch.

“Please.” She urges, nodding her head.

He places a small kiss to her hip before sitting back up. She has a slightly confused look but it soon changes when she feels a finger softly swipe up her slit. She flutters her eyes shut from the light contact, leaning her head back in the pillows and it emboldens Copia to keep going. He moves slowly over her lips, teasing the bud of her clit occasionally. It’s all intentional but featherlight pressures and he feels Sarah growing even wetter under his touch. He loves how she’s so taken with the little affection.

“Do you like that?” he purrs. “You were already wet for me when I started and now? Oh, I feel like I could drown.” He breathes in a deep inhale of her scent. “But what a way to go, eh? Do you think you can handle a little more?”

With her eyes closed, all Sarah can do is hum. She can’t find the words to speak for him. Copia stops his movement when she doesn’t respond and she whines. Her hips move on his stilled hand to get some friction back. “Wha-?”

“I need you here with me, Sarah.” He tilts his head as he looks up at Sarah. “Do you want more?”

She lays her head back and huffs. “Yes, I want more AH!” Her thought is cut short when Copia gets back to work with his fingers, now pressing down with more pressure as he circles her clit with his thumb while his finger taps lightly at her entrance. “Shit, Copia.” The new sensations have her moving her hips in sync with his hand. “Keep going.”

He smiles. Slowly, Copia inserts his finger and she moans out at him. He moves slowly in-and-out, testing the tightness before adding one more. “Is this how you relieved your tension back in your room? All alone and pent up? Needing my fingers instead of your own.” She whimpers from his words and at the slight stretch and they can both feel the small squeeze of her walls on his fingers. Copia slowly lowers himself to lay down on his stomach to begin kissing and worships Sarah’s clit while he curls his fingers in her.

“Oh fuck, please don’t stop.” Sarah groans, opening up wider. “You are amazing.” He smiles into her pussy and she can feel it. She rolls her eyes slightly. Smug bastard.

“Dolcezza, are you close? Can you come for me, amore?” He begs between her legs.

“I’m-“ coming she thinks. The orgasm that washes over her is so sudden and she wasn’t expecting it. Her whole body feels euphoric while she flutters and clenches down on his fingers. After she’s come down slightly from the high, he removes his fingers so both of his hands can hold up her hips while he dives in to lick up her release. He continues his ministrations to her sensitive clit, sucking and mouthing at her pussy with renewed fervor. She grasps his hair on his head and he groans when Sarah pulls slightly at the strands. The vibrations from his voice spur on her small hip bucks to move in rhythm with Copia’s mouth.

He's rutting his hips against the mattress and it’s a sight for Sarah to see. He’s so overcome with the entirety of her around him and on his tonguethat he’s nearly on the brink of bursting in his pants he still has on. He looks determined to give her another orgasm before coming up for air. Sarah’s free hand moves up to cup her breast and from the enthusiastic licks and suctions on her clit from Copia along with her own fondling of her chest, she falls over into a second orgasm of the night, arching her back off the bed. The sound that leaves her throat is an obscene moan and Copia smiles, proud he can elicit such a reaction when they’ve just started.

He moans at the lingering taste on his tongue once he sits up after she calms down from her high. “I think you tasted even better the second time, amore.” He sits up in bed on his knees. Copia licks around his mouth and then wipes the rest off with the back of his hand as he watches Sarah with a toothy smile.  

When Sarah comes-to, she moves to sit up on her shaky knees in front of Copia with a determined look on her face. She holds onto his shoulders for balance while she kisses the side of his face before moving to his lips, tasting herself on his tongue. Her hands on his shoulder begin to move down; one hand stops on his waist and the other continues its mission to touch his bulge in his tight pants. He groans out at Sarah’s gentle palming at his crotch. She leans in to speak into his ear and says low but clear. “I need you to get out of these pants so you can fuck me, Copia.” He growls and she can feel a slight twitch from his clothed cock at her demand. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Copia is slow to move so Sarah begins impatiently unbuttoning his pants for him. He leaves the bed briefly to stand, much to her dismay, so he can get the garment off his legs along with his briefs. The cool air of his room is like a savior to his sensitive, leaking cock; Copia practically shudders as he breathes out. All that’s left on him is his button up as he gets back into the bed. Sarah’s hands fly to undo the buttons but her frantic fingers cannot be still long enough to effectively free him from the fabric. She growls and then her hands firmly grasp the open collar. Strengthened with frustration, Sarah rips the shirt open, popping buttons off the shirt to allow her to get it off.

Scandalized, “Sarah!” Copia gasps. He stares at her in awe, his fangs poking down from his growing smirk. “My buttons!” He pretends to be upset and pouts.

She huffs and looks up at him. “I’ll fix it later. I’m a seamstress, remember?” She kisses the smirk off his face and pushes the damned, insulting fabric from his shoulders. With Copia now fully naked in front of her, she admires the hairiness of his chest and soft stomach. Sarah’s eyes slowly follow the trail of hair that leads down to her destination. His achingly hard erection is on display for her. He’s long and thick and she licks her lips at the small mess of pre come that’s spread around the tip because of her.

He chuckles but it soon turns into groans when he feels Sarah’s hand travel down to collect some of her lingering orgasm between her thighs to use as lube on his cock while she strokes it with his own slick. She moves her hands at a slow and steady pace, copying Copia’s fingers on her from earlier “Fuck me, Sarah. If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to last very long.” He whimpers slightly at the light caress while Sarah moves her lips to kiss his neck. His hips thrust on their own volition and she smiles. Sarah pulls away and he pouts.

“You know what to do then.” She shifts, falling back down to lay in bed. Copia watches in awe as he takes in his amore, legs bent up to herself but closed. She beckons him to come closer, crooking a finger towards her. She hides the very place he wishes to bury himself into. He finally starts moving closer, holding himself in one hand, softly stroking in the same way Sarah had been before and looks deep into her eyes.

“I can’t fuck you, Sarah, if you sit like that, eh?” he smirks. “Spread your legs for me, dolcezza. Let me see you again.”

She obliges, feigning ignorance. “Oh! So sorry.”

“I would ask if you were ready for me but that may be redundant.” He jokes. Sarah laughs, leaning her head back with a blush, she covers her face with her hand. “Hey, hey, don’t get shy on me now.” He holds her chin, pulling Sarah to look at him. He leans down to give a small kiss as he steadies himself at her folds. The tip of his cock nudges slowly into Sarah’s cunt and they both moan. He kisses her gasps and whimpers through the process of burying himself fully in her comforting heat.

“Ah! The stretch feels so good.” She whines.

He pants slightly. “You feel divine! So warm, so snug around me. Almost like a hug.” He laughs, delirious already. He tries a few shallow thrusts in and out, slow at first, testing the waters. She quickly clamps down like a vice on his cock and he groans. With a determined move, he wraps his arms around her body and rolls them to the side, switching positions. Copia props himself up to sit against the pillows while still holding on to Sarah. He removes his arms and she leans away to sit up.

She looks at him, tilting her head. “Wha-?”

“I want you on top when I drink from you.” He says, his hand rising to drag a finger over her neck to her sternum. “Are you ready for that?”

“Yes.” She nods rapidly, adjusting to the feeling of being impaled by his cock while she sits on top of him. She feels a slight twitch inside her and they both groan.

He places a hand on her cheek and she stills. “Try not to move too much, Sarah. I want this to last a bit longer, eh?” Sarah nods again and he smiles. Copia sits up and one hand rests on her waist. His other hand stays on her cheek and he leans in, placing a small kiss to her neck. His fangs graze over the skin and Sarah shudders slightly in anticipation. His kisses become heavier, sloppy, and lingering before he starts the next one on her pulse point. Finally, he stills on one spot, deciding where to bite.

She silently pleads “Please… Ah!” The next thing she feels is the sharp bite of his teeth followed by his tongue lapping at the skin to help soothe as much as he can while it still stings. “Copiaaaa….” She breathes out once the sharp pain fades to a pleasant balm washing through the rest of her body. He moans against her neck and she whimpers. His hips below her have started to shift, slowly bucking up to her as he holds her body to his. She rocks her hips in a similar rhythm, chasing a fleeting feeling.

Copia mouths rapidly at her neck, lapping up her delicious blood. Blood that he hasn’t stopped thinking about for days now. The high of her taste once again on his tongue makes his head feel woozy and he begins to thrust harder up onto Sarah’s pussy. He can tell she’s just as affected from the venom running through her blood now that the pain has faded by her soft mewls. He removes his lips from her neck, looking up to Sarah whose eyes are shut tight in bliss, body involuntarily rocking on top of his to work on falling into bliss once more.

He mouths a bloody kiss to her lips before asking “Could you give me one more? Come for me again, Sarah?” She mumbles out a yes and he goes back to her neck, placing a light kiss to his teeth marks before biting down again. His hand on her waist moves to Sarah’s back, helping her small movements above him.

She feels close, the feeling of her blood being drank along with the fullness and stretch of Copia inside of her have Sarah on the brink of another orgasm. His thrusts up into her become sharper and more precise. He growls into her neck, leaning back and taking Sarah to lay on him. Their skin is glistening in a thin layer of sweat from their exertions. Sarah’s thighs are burning at this rate but she persists through the ache. The new angle allows his feet to plant into the mattress and give more weight to the thrusts. She moans deep in her chest and it rings through the room. Sarah feels the fluttery feeling below come back once again and whispers desperately to Copia “Just a few more like that and I’ll ah-OH!” Her words are punched out of her throat as the rush of pleasure runs through her body. “So good… feel… floating.” She murmurs as she clings to him.

The tight pulsing of her walls on Copia’s cock has him cresting over into his own orgasm shortly after, shooting thick ropes of his come into her. They rock against each other, riding through their highs and Copia feels too overwhelmed at the sensations. Her soft skin on his hands, how he sits in her wet warmth, her blood on his lips and tongue. He’s barely processed his first orgasm when his cock kicks once more and he’s screaming out while a second wave of hot pleasure overtakes his body. He yanks his mouth from Sarah’s neck and lays his head back, body possessed as he thrusts up into Sarah and rides out the sensations. All he can do is breathe through it, heaving his sweaty chest as she sits up and softly swivels her hips on top to help him through it. She runs her fingers through his chest hair to soothe him and watches as he scrunches up his face in bliss with a toothy, bloody smile.

When she tires, Sarah falls to lay on top of Copia’s body. They lie there, catching their breath for a few minutes while basking in the afterglow of a thorough fuck she thinks. Her heart swells with an affection for her vampire lover that she wasn’t prepared for. Maybe it’s the venom. His hand comes up to rub small circles on her back.

Once Copia feels himself soften, he rolls them over once again with a collective groan so he can slip out and let Sarah lay down. She smiles weakly at the feeling of a small trail of Copia’s spend trickling out.  Slowly he gets up to walk to his bathroom where he washes his face and cleans himself up. He leaves the bathroom with a wet cloth along with a bandage kit and settles back on the bed to take care of his lover. She hisses at the feeling of it on her neck and thigh but he kisses her forehead as a distraction. The gentle swipe of the cloth on her vagina has her wiggling from sensitivity. He chuckles after he’s finished, taking the cloth to the bathroom. Finally, he walks to the fridge where he has a couple chilled juice boxes and grabs a granola bar for Sarah.

She smiles at the gesture when he comes back into the room. Sarah had just enough energy to get under the comforter and she’s snuggled into the pillows while she waits for Copia to do the same. Her hand motion for him to come to bed has different energy from earlier but he grins all the same. Copia lays down in bed and wraps Sarah up in his arms for her to lay on his chest. His thumb rubs on her skin where he lays his hand. She lays her cheek on his chest and places a hand his stomach. They bask in a comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of skin-to-skin under the soft covers. Sarah tilts her head up to look at Copia who is already looking down at her.

“What are you thinking about, amore?” Copia asks softly.

Sarah smiles back. “Just… you.” She laughs lightly. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” he places a small kiss to her head. “How are you feeling? You didn’t pass out this time, that’s progress! I ah, pre-gamed so I wouldn’t be tempted to drink too much.”

Sarah snorts. “I feel great.” She adjusts on top of him. “A bit sore, but I feel fantastic. How are you, my love?”

“I wasn’t expecting the second orgasm, that’s for sure.” Copia and Sarah burst out laughing. “Or the business back there with the buttons, eh! You’re full of surprises mi diavolessa.” He playfully shakes Sarah in his arms.

“I just… really wanted you inside me.” Sarah laughs. “It wasn’t fair that you still had clothes on while I was as naked as the day I was born.” She taps a finger on his chest. “And you said in a moment! I think you and I have very different definitions of that word.” She playfully huffs.

“Well, I am so sorry for keeping you waiting.” He takes Sarah’s hand to his lips to kiss it before putting it back down. “I will make sure you don’t wait as long next time. I felt so drunk off of you that I lost track of time.”

Sarah’s heart flutters at his words. “It felt amazing when you drank from me. I felt like once the venom kicked in, I was consumed by you inside and out. It was perfect, Copia.”

“You really like that, huh?” she nods and he leans back in thought. “The first time it was so sweet and I felt addicted the second it hit my tongue, hence the passing out.” he cringes and Sarah giggles. “This time there was a kind of richness to it. You are decedent. All of you.” Copia’s strokes small circles to her skin. A yawn sneaks its way through Sarah’s lips and she sighs in defeat. “Are you getting sleepy, dolcezza?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I want to stay awake! If I go to sleep then this wonderful night with you will be over.” Sarah pouts up to Copia. She rolls over to face away from him to get comfortable in bed. He moves to wrap his arm around her from behind and nuzzles his face in her back before sitting up on his other arm.

Copia leans in to place a small kiss to her shoulder. “There will always be other nights, amore. And remember,” his fingers tickle her stomach; she wiggles at the feeling. “,you don’t have to go to work until Monday and you have a change of clothes here.” He leans in to whisper in Sarah’s ear. “Over the next two days, we aren’t leaving this bed.” He exhales a devious laugh and lays back down, settling behind her.

Sarah lets out a tired but mischievous chuckle. “If I’m not leaving this bed, then who needs clothes?” A dirty laugh echoes from the couple into the room.

Copia kisses between her shoulder blades and hugs her closer to him. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

◊◊◊◊◊

Sarah is broken out of her stitching trance by a knock on the door.

“Cardinal Copia! What a pleasure to see you.” Amelia sounds way too happy.

He gives a shifty bow to the room. “Good afternoon, everyone. I need to speak to Sarah, ehe.”

“Well, don’t keep her waiting.” She shoos Copia.

“What do you need?” Sarah calls over.

Copia walks up to her table and stands beside Sarah’s chair. He leans down to whisper in her ear, holding out his hand away from Alex and Sarah’s line of sight. “I found the button we couldn’t find before you left this morning.”

She can feel Alex and Amelia’s eyes on the two. She quickly snatches the button from his hand and ekes out a quick “Thank you” to him. He leans down to kiss the top of her head and bids the studio an awkward farewell.

Sarah is halfway through sewing on the last of Copia’s button when Amelia cackles out “Lust strikes again!”

hehe Amelia is such a menace. She and Terzo really are meant for each other. I Hope y'all enjoyed it. I didn't intend to write something so long lol.

[undergroundbillions]

Doom's super-easy quick-and-dirty fool-proof rag doll tutorial! Shirts

Part one of many! Masterpost here.

Time for your first clothing tutorial: the Andy shirt. I'm going to start us off with a reminder that this is just a basic tutorial!!! A jumping off point for you to experiment!!! I encourage you to try new things and adjust these designs to your ideas!!!

Supplies:

Sewing needle, pins, scissors, thread in similar colors to your fabric

Fabric

Some sort of clasp or velcro

Step 1: Patterning

Measuring time! These don't have to be incredibly accurate, but you're going to need:

Arm length

Torso length

Torso width

Arm width

Neck width

Time to draw up your pattern, filling in each measurement here. All sides are symmetrical in both directions. Add at least 2 inches to each measurement besides the neck hole, and up to 4 to each sleeve if you want to fold them over for visible shirt cuffs.

Step 2: Cutting out your fabric

The basic shirt will be made from a single piece of fabric, but you can always piece things together if you're using scraps or want different colors (this is what I had to do). If you do, add an extra inch to account for the fabric that will be taken up on the inside of the seam.

Cut right down the middle from the edge to the neck hole as shown on the pattern. This can be in the front or the back depending on the style of shirt you want to make. Standard dolls have the closure in the back.

Step 3: Sewing together

Fold the entire piece of fabric in half, right sides together, with the neck hole across the top. Now you can sew along each arm and down the sides of the torso. Don't sew the ends of the sleeves closed, or the opening at the bottom.

Don't forget to try it on the doll at all stages of sewing, the sooner you catch a problem the less work it will be to fix it! And always over-estimate measurements, you can always cut away fabric but it's a pain in the ass to add more.

Step 4: Finishing

Fold over each raw edge inward 1/2 inch and use a running stitch to sew it down, this hides the rough edges. You'll want to do this along the back/front seam, cuffs of the sleeves, and along the bottom.

If you want to add a shirt collar, measure and cut out a 3 inch rectangle of fabric the length of the neck hole when fully stretched out end-to-end. Fold this rectangle in half the long way, right sides together, and sew just the two ends together. When you turn it rightside-out you'll have a long skinny rectangle you can sew to the neck hole as a collar.

(I used a shirt sleeve for my fabric, so the cuff of the shirt became the collar!)

This is also where you sew on whatever you plan on using to close up the seam. I used snaps, but you can also use velcro, hook-and-eye closures, real buttons, or even ties! If you don't plan on removing the clothes later you can even put it on the doll and then sew it closed.

Enjoy! Pants tutorial will be linked on the masterpost!