HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE (2016)dir. Taika Waititi

HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE (2016) dir. Taika Waititi

working for the knife: chapter 14

chapter 14: homecoming (link) Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Sister of Sin OC Rating: this fic is explicit. 18+, minors do not interact Also, two of the three illustrations for this fic are NSFW/ sexual in nature, so they'll only be on AO3. Head over there to read the chapter if you want to see them! Chapter word count: 4.9k Tags: first time, we're resolving sexual tension baybee, tender sex, foreplay, grinding, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, feelings! Read the entire work on AO3 here! (link)

Tag list at the bottom of this chapter! Let me know if you'd like to be added.

They sit in silence on the couch as Copia takes in what Cecilia just told him. The fire crackles softly. She sniffles, wiping tears from her cheeks with the heel of her palm. She’s avoiding Copia’s eyes, looking down at floor. Guilt weighs heavy on her.

"Copia, I’m so sorry - for everything. Having to work with you so closely brought a lot of stuff to the surface. I’ve been treating you poorly without meaning to, but that’s still not okay. I know I was pushing you away but -" she pauses, shuffles her feet against the rug. "I want you to know that I never would have just left you like that, above all else," Cecilia says, pleading. "The postcard - I was scared to say too much, scared that my parents would somehow intercept it. I just wanted to let you know somehow that I was okay. I thought maybe it would be easier for you to make a clean break and not hold out hope that I’d ever be coming back…"

"I know that, cara mia. Oh, Cecilia. I can see that now. But how could your parents treat you like that? In the name of their devotion to the Ministry? They took away your freedom to choose because they didn’t like your choice. I-" He has to stop himself because he can’t find the words for the fury he feels. The ostracism, the judgement - these are not tenets of his religion, at least, not the one that he knows. He doesn’t blame Cecilia for keeping him at arm’s length when she’s been carrying the weight of this pain alone for two decades. "I should have stayed parked outside, or walked you into your house, or -" He’s starting to stammer, guilt pulling at his heart. He knows it’s not his fault, but to think that he could have done something to stop it is gut-wrenching.

"Copia, don’t beat yourself up. Please. You didn’t know. Fuck, I didn’t know how things were going to play out after you drove off. I shoved all of this down and refused to think about it, because it hurt too much. It was easier to just stop trying to reach out, because I knew the door would just get slammed in my face again. Metaphorically speaking. Sorry that you got swept up in that, too - it was just… easier to not think about where I came from. Only focus on what was ahead of me. It hurt too much to think about, and I spent so long blaming myself for the way everything went down." She meets his eyes, finally, and her brown eyes shine like amber in the firelight.

"And I’m sorry that I tense up and freeze you out whenever it feels like you’re getting too close to me. It’s how I kept myself safe for all this time - no one can hurt me if they don’t know me, if I don’t roll over and show my belly. When I find myself getting close to someone, I get scared that they’re going to leave me, too. I feel like I’m back at the bus stop, alone in my wet clothes. Or like I’m leaving my boss’s office on the Hill after I resigned, and everyone’s looking at me like I’m poison as I walk out for the last time.

"I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all, but maybe it wasn’t the Ministry’s fault after all. Maybe my parents were just shitty people who used their religion to justify being awful. I don’t know." She shrugs.

"How do you feel about the Ministry? Now that you’re back?" Copia asks. He looks at her with no hint of judgement, just curiosity. She hesitates. Years of practice are telling her to stop, hold back, but she wants to see how it feels to go forward. She doesn’t know if she has the words to unravel how she feels about it all.

"I want to shuck it off, sometimes. Not the habit or my vows, but all of it." Cecilia makes a wide, sweeping gesture with her hands. "I wish I could give everything back, start fresh. Be raised in a normal secular family where I didn’t have to deal with the overwhelming guilt of not - I don’t know - I don’t know if I really ever believed, truly. And it shocked me to find out that people actually did. In here, and in the wider world. I was always going through the motions - I don’t know if I believe in God or Satan or any of it any more than I do anything else. It was another box to check. The appearance of believing felt more important than the believing itself. It was going along to get along." She is absolutely raw, trembling, and holds Copia’s gaze. She feels like they’re on a precipice and she’s desperately afraid to ruin it. He’s looking at her so intently; the green eye is shiny with tears, and the white eye is blazing hot.

 "And I thought putting it behind me and shoving it down would free me, but it didn’t and it couldn’t - and I was still going along to get along - and I found myself running back to the place I was always running from, because in spite of how much I hated it here when I was growing up, I knew it was something I could fall back on. There’s easy comfort in the ritual of it all, and maybe that’s all it needs to be for me.

"But then I look at you and your conviction and devotion and it makes me question everything. It’s so genuine and beautiful when I see it moving though you." She feels like she’s about to cry, pink and tender like new skin under a scab. Copia doesn’t say anything, still just staring with his mismatched gaze as he takes in her words. She takes a shaky breath and prepares to leap.

"I feel like I know less than ever before about what I believe, but I know I believe in you." Cecilia ducks her head and looks at the freckle on Copia’s lower lip, leaning in to press a kiss to that very spot. She imagined kissing that freckle again so many times in the past weeks, and now that she’s done it, it’s as easy as breathing. All she wants is to do it again and again and again.

Copia takes a shivery inhale through his nose and places his hand on Cecilia’s cheek. She’s flushed red, and he can feel how hot she is even though the leather of his glove. Gently, so gently, he changes the angle of his head, fully pressing his lips to hers.

Cecilia parts her lips the smallest bit and sighs against Copia’s mouth, poking out her tongue to lick at his lip. He follows, sweet and languid, and takes her lower lip between his teeth. Bites hard enough to elicit a little gasp. The air in the room is weighty, electric. She presses tiny little kisses to his mouth as she grabs for his hand, squeezing gently. "It’s been too long, Copia," she murmurs against his lips. "I’ve been waiting for so long. I’m sorry I kept you waiting, too."

Sathanas, Copia can feel his heartbeat in his cock just from this. Cecilia is looking at him all half-lidded and dreamy. "Shall we, eh, make up for lost time?" Copia asks. He runs his other hand up the length of her thigh, feather light. She whimpers.

"Please," Cecilia says. Nothing to hide, nothing to hold back. She presses her thighs together, trying to find a little friction. She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t gotten herself off to this fantasy a million times over in her expensive, lonely apartment a million lifetimes ago. The last relic of the past she couldn’t fully unmoor herself from, no matter how hard she tried - her sweet Copia.

Copia makes a low noise in the back of his throat and hoists Cecilia onto his lap. He crushes their lips together hard enough to bruise and she licks into his mouth. Copia reciprocates and laughs softly when their teeth click together. The shivery slip-slide of their tongues draws another whimper from Cecilia’s throat. This feels different than when they kissed in his office. It’s still so new, but there’s a certainty now to the way they move against each other. She throws her arms over his shoulders, leaning forward and nosing against the cord of his neck before dragging her wet, open mouth down down down; under her tongue, she feels his pulse, blood-hot, thundering beneath his skin. She rolls her hips down on him, pauses when she feels how hard he is already, and does it again. Her breathing gets shaky. Copia tosses his head back and moans, grabbing the meat of her hips and rocking her back and forth.

"Fuck, Copia, fuck, fuck -" she keens. "It feels so good." He presses his bulge up against her, rolls his hips, and Cecilia nearly sobs, dragging her hands down his chest. Her short black nails scratch against the red wool of his cassock. She can feel herself getting slick and her underwear starting to stick against her. She idly wonders if somehow, through his heavy layers, Copia can feel how wet she is, too. Her clit throbs at the thought. 

"I should’ve - ah - had my way with you much sooner. Do you know how badly I wanted this? How long I’ve wanted you?" He cants his hips and grinds up against her. He thinks Cecilia might just come from this alone, with the little pleasured noises she’s punching out and how her hips are getting jerky. He moves a hand to her breast, pinching a nipple through her bra. "I should have bent you over my desk and fucked you on that very first day. And every day after that. Ah - fucking ruined you. Diavoletta." She gasps and moves to kiss his neck again; she can taste the salt of his sweat, tacky on his skin. "Grind that pussy on me - just like that. I’m gonna make you come."

She feels drunk with arousal, her pulse throbbing in every cell in her body. "Not yet. Gotta feel you. Wanna get you inside," she murmurs against his neck before moving to kiss him again.

Copia licks another kiss against her mouth and growls. "Get up, Cecilia. I want to eat you."

Wordlessly, she nods and scrambles up from his lap. Fuck - they’re not even naked yet and she’s already feeling empty and achy from the loss of contact. Her cunt clenches around nothing. She wants to envelop him, press against him like a python, never let him go. 

Copia stands too, and in a flash of limbs, Cecilia is seated, ankles crossed politely out of habit, and Copia’s on his knees in front of her. The dainty little criss-cross of her legs while she pants and twitches her hips against the couch might be the most obscene thing he’s seen in a while. He reaches between his legs and palms himself over this clothes. She moans at the sight of it. His pupils are blown wide, and even his white iris is scarcely visible around the dark void. Like an eclipse, Cecilia thinks dreamily.

Catlike, Copia nuzzles against the curve of her calf. He pushes his hands up her thighs, dragging her habit up as he goes. "I need you to scoot forward and uncross your ankles," he asks. "No more manners, not for me. Piccola troia - ah - playing coy." He bends down and kisses the inside of her ankle. Cecilia immediately obliges, moaning at the sweet pressure the movement puts on her clit. "That’s more like it." He gives the swell of her right calf a little bite.

"Copia - please -" she says, breathless.

He presses a kiss to the top of her thigh while her muscles tremble underneath. She feels like a rabbit, like prey. She’s eager to be devoured, skinned raw and undone. No more hiding away. She wants to be wholly consumed. "Lift your hips for me. I need to get this out of my way." He presses his fingers against the meat of her quadriceps, dimpling her flesh with the force of it.

Cecilia does as he asks, and Copia pushes her habit fully up around her ample hips, leaving it bunched around her waist. Cecilia grabs the hem, arching her back as she pulls it up and over her head. The garment is tossed somewhere to the side of the couch. He scapes his fingertips down her thighs, squeezing her knees. She squeals, ticklish, and parts her legs. He shifts forward on his knees, pushing his nose into the mound of her panties, black and lacy, and sighing reverently. "Copia! Oh, my god," she gasps.

"Ah - He is not here," Copia tuts. He inhales deeply, bumping the tip of his nose against her clit. She gasps again, and he nuzzles in further. "Your panties are soaked through, Cecilia. I can smell how hot you are for me." Musky and acidic and animal. He nips at her inner thigh, then soothes the sting with his tongue.

Copia’s words send a jolt of pleasure straight through her. Cecilia reaches behind her to unclasp her bra and shrugs it off, tossing it aside. She grabs both breasts and twists her nipples between her fingers, rolling and pinching until they’re peaked.

"Beautiful," Copia says, looking up. He nuzzles into her clothed cunt again, breath fanning against the sticky gusset, before hooking his fingers under the lacy waistband. "Please let me taste you, Cecilia."

"Yes, Copia, please, please, please, anything-" To her surprise, he licks a sodden stripe up the crotch of her underwear and sucks the wet fabric into his mouth before pulling her underwear down. It’s absolutely filthy, and it draws a wanton moan from Cecilia. Copia relishes the little gasp she makes as her wet cunt meets the cool air. The tawny curls at the apex of her thighs are darkened and damp. With a gloved finger, Copia strokes along the seam of her, petting lightly. She’s so slick that the slide of it is effortless. He presses gently on her clit, circling his fingertip before tracing it back down. He pokes at her entrance, just a suggestion. She squirms, bucking her hips into his touch, trying to push him inside.

"You’re so fucking wet, Cecilia. All for me," he says reverently, bringing his slick, gloved finger to his mouth and sucking. "Unholy Ghost, Overlord, Taker of Life; bless Sister Cecilia and her beautiful offering she’s presenting to me, which I shall, hehe, ravish thoroughly. I receive her body, unholy and divine, through Sathanas, our Father in Hell. May black light guide us. Nema."

From between her legs, Copia looks up expectedly, waiting for her response. He drags his finger torturously slow up and down a few times, never touching too long on where she needs him most. She can see the shiny suggestion of her arousal coating the black leather of his glove. The white eye makes her feel incandescent with lust. This is the closest thing to a religious experience that Cecilia’s ever had. "N-nema. All for you. Only for you," she says, trembling as the deep well of want within her springs to life.

Copia reaches around Cecilia, grabbing a handful of her ass, and pulls her further toward his face. He wastes no time nosing his way in, licking a broad stripe across her cunt before tracing the pointed tip of his tongue through her folds. He’s savoring everything; the way she tastes, the wet slide of his tongue through her slick, moving at a maddeningly slow pace to take it all in. He wants to commit every detail

of the first time he has his mouth on her to memory. Cecilia bucks her hips forward, desperate for more, bumping Copia’s long, beautiful nose against her clit, and she gasps. Copia spreads her lips with his fingers and starts suckling around her clit. The suction is so gentle, barely-there, but Cecilia nearly shrieks, clasping her hand over her mouth. Copia makes the lewdest slurping noise she’s ever heard, and if she wasn’t so single-mindedly horny, she might’ve marveled at how as sound like that could come from this deeply awkward, deeply sweet man.

"Fuck!" she exclaims, grabbing at the arm of the couch as Copia flicks the point of his tongue against her clit. In response, he looks up at her for the briefest moment before glancing back down and continuing his ministrations. She swears she saw him smirk, the cheeky motherfucker.

With one hand, he teases her entrance while working her clit with his mouth, and with the other, he’s reached under his cassock, grabbing his cock through his trousers. She feels on the verge of delirium watching Copia service her pussy while touching himself. The suggestion of his hand jacking himself under the heavy red wool and the way the fabric shifts is more obscene than if he was naked before her and touching himself. She gasps and writhes as Copia pushes his fingers in and crooks them upward.

"Fuck, Copia - Copia - please." 

"So needy. Look what you’ve denied yourself." 

He massages up again, and she sees stars. The pleasure blooming in her pelvis is overwhelming and the slick sounds coming from between her legs get louder and louder. His fingers find a clever rhythm, fucking in and out and swiping against that little sweet spot inside of her. "Oh - oh - fuck - coming - coming!" She gasps and arches her hips up as her orgasm hits her, traveling through her body in a wave of warmth. She feels a gush of wetness leave her body, and through the ringing in her ears, she can hear the messy squelch of Copia fingering her through her climax.

Copia pulls himself away and stands up, the bottom half of his face shining with her slick in the lamplight. The black paint on his top lip is completely gone; Cecilia idly thinks about the smudges she’ll find between her legs later. "Let me take care of you," she says. Glancing down to where Copia is very obviously hard under his cassock, she adds "that can’t be comfortable."

"My knees hurt worse," he adds sheepishly. "Must be getting old."

"My old man," Cecilia says, standing from the couch and immediately feeling her legs tremble beneath her. "As if I’m one to talk." She hears Copia chuckle as she presses a kiss to his mouth. Cecilia suppresses a moan when she tastes herself on his lips.

"Cosí bella, Cecilia," says Copia reverently, pulling away from the kiss and cupping her tits, drawing his thumbs over her nipples. "They’re so hard for me." He bends down and kisses the peak of each breast, almost chaste. Her little silver grucifix dangles down her sternum, and Copia thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Cecilia takes his hands and pulls off his gloves, one finger at a time. They’re pale and freckled, and his knuckles are fuzzy with brown hair. His nails are trimmed short and neat, and his palms are free from callouses, soft. She kisses his each of his knuckles and takes his pellegrina off, one shoulder at a time. It falls to the floor. She strips him of one piece of clothing after another, fingers making quick work of the buttons on his cassock, until he’s in nothing but his underwear. The way his erection tents the fabric makes her mouth water. She doesn’t miss the little damp patch where his head is. "Beautiful," she whispers, dropping to her knees and kissing the soft, hairy curve of his belly above his waistband. "My Copia. May I?"

Overcome, he nods, and Cecilia finally pulls his underwear down toward his ankles. Freed from its confines, his erection springs up toward his belly. He steps out of the pooled fabric and helps Cecilia rise to standing before pulling her close, pressing her tight against him and kissing the crown of her head. She trembles in his arms.

"It’s taken us so long to get here," he says. "I don’t want to waste any more time."

Cecilia reaches down and holds his cock in her hand. It’s pretty and thick and long, flushed blood red and pearling precum at the tip. The shiny skin of his head, peaking out from underneath the foreskin, is pink like his lips, his tongue, his nipples. She gives him a little squeeze, drawing a full-body shiver from Copia, before dropping to her knees again and taking him in her mouth. Copia moans, long and reedy, as Cecilia mouths at the tip, using her one hand to stoke him slow and firm while the other cups his balls. He’s salty and so, so wet. "So good," he praises, petting at her hair.

She presses the flat of her tongue to the underside of his head before suckling a few times, hollowing her cheeks and pulling off with a pop. Copia nearly buckles and pulls Cecilia up, kissing her full on the mouth. "I’m going to come if you keep that up."

She smirks. "Another time."

"Another time," he agrees.

"Next time, maybe," Cecilia adds suggestively, giving him another little stroke and feeling pleased when his cock twitches in response.

Copia nods. "Next time. But I, eh, can’t wait for this time." He pulls her in close again, licking into her mouth. Her grasp on his cock wavers and he takes the chance to lead her to his room and gently lay her down on his bed.

"I feel like I’m having sex for the first time," Cecilia admits with a sheepish smile, leaning against the headboard and running her nails up her torso, just for the pleasant little shiver it induces. She lets her legs fall open, blooming like a flower, and cups her breasts with a squeeze.

"I wanted it to be you. So badly," Copia says, earnest in a way that makes Cecilia’s heart ache. How many people, after all, get a second chance at a first time? He opens the top drawer of his bedside table and pulls out a bottle of lube, slicking himself up.

Cecilia laughs. "You’re so prepared."

Copia gives her a little smirk and shifts to straddle her. "What do they say? Eh, wetter is better?"

"And so considerate, too."

"With all the Satanic orgies, the Ministry stays well-stocked." Copia winks, running his slick fingers along Cecilia’s cunt, warming her up. She shudders at the feeling and has a quick realization that he’s feeling her, skin-to-skin, for the first time. She swallows a moan.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. "I felt you get so slippery just now." He’s still idly touching her. The exploratory, featherlight brushes of his fingers through her folds are driving her insane. He teases her with a press on her clit, rolling it under the pad of his finger, and she grinds against his hand.

Punching out a little exhale, she says, "Your gloves are off. And they weren’t before. How do I feel?"

Copia hums, moving his hand back to his cock and stroking, considering. "So hot. And so soft. All mine." He grabs himself firm at the base, rubs his head up and down Cecilia’s slit a few times, being sure to bump her clit each time. The wet slide of his cock nudging her clit makes her whine. "Can’t wait for my cock to feel you, too." Slowly, he lines himself up and pushes in. Cecilia gasps and pulls him down for a kiss, slow and wet. Copia’s eyes roll back when he bottoms out; he truly cannot remember if there was a time he’s ever been this hard. "Are you okay, Cecilia?" he manages to choke out.

Cecilia’s brain is on fire and she can’t find any words to describe how good this feels. The stretch of him filling her, the heat and press of his beautiful body. She makes a little affirmative noise and scrapes her nails down Copia’s sides, leaving shaky red trails in her wake. He keens, grinding against her pelvis, trying to get as deep into her as he can. Without warning, Copia draws almost all the way out, the head of his cock lingering on the rim of her cunt. Cecilia’s about to voice her protest before Copia fucks himself fully back in. Cecilia jolts and feels tears of pleasure prick the corners of her eyes. "Fuck - Copia - do that again."

Copia obliges, setting a steady, undulating pace. "Your pussy was made for me. Do you know that? So tight and hot and wet, and it’s mine." Cecilia feels like she’s bobbing in the ocean, treading water and at the mercy of the waves, lost to the pleasure of it all. With one hand, she grabs the short hairs on the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss that’s all tongue. With the other, she slithers down between their bodies and starts rubbing tight little circles onto her clit.

With any previous lover, she would have been embarrassed at the squelching noises coming from between her legs, but Copia seems to delight in the filthy wetness of it all. Cecilia moans into his mouth and feels herself clench. Without any warning, Copia pulls all the way out and presses himself against the side of Cecilia’s body. She can feel how hot and hard he is against her thigh. "What are you - oh, oh." Copia’s hand is between her legs again, fingers massaging in and out of her cunt. She keens a low moan and rocks her hips into his hand.

"Do you think you can come again? Just like this? I want to feel you get my fingers all wet," he murmurs, pressing into her, and that really gets her going. She groans, eyes fluttering, as he rubs against the sweet spot inside her while she circles her clit. "Is that the spot? Right there? Oh, Cecilia." He continues on, babbling, "Your pussy’s making such pretty noises, Cecilia. Mine mine mine. Keep touching yourself. Wanna feel you squirt - fucking - yes, yes, get me all wet."

Cecilia bites her lip and nods, screwing her eyes shut as she gives into the feeling. She can hear the wet slide of Copia touching himself with his other hand, his knuckles bumping her thigh, and feels herself flutter. "I’m getting close," she chokes out.

"Oh, dolcezza. Is that it? Just like that? Oh, baby. Come on come on come on," he chants, low and growling, speeding up the movement of his clever fingers. He presses up into her sensitive spot, rubbing back and forth and he dips his head down to mouth at her nipple.

When he gives her nipple a gentle bite, Cecilia feels herself come undone by Copia’s fingers for the second time this evening. Her vision gets fuzzy as she feels her cunt contract around his fingers and she grabs at Copia to ground herself. Copia straddles her again and slides into her once more, fucking her through her orgasm. He gasps at the feeling of her fluttering around him and bites down onto her neck, sharp enough to sting but not hard enough to bruise.

"So beautiful when you’re coming for me," he says, breathless, and with the way his thrusts are getting jerky, she can tell that he’s close, too. "Where do you want me to - ah - finish?"

"Inside," she gasps. "Fucking fill me up, Copia, give me everything, I want to feel you dripping out of me." 

Copia has the wherewithal to cock an eyebrow. "Are you-" he starts, and Cecilia nods quickly.

"IUD," she replies breathlessly.

Copia bends down and kisses her full on the mouth, and his hips stutter an uneven rhythm. "Are you gonna come? Gonna fill me up? Gonna give it to me real good?" she asks, syrupy, talking him through it. Wordless, Copia gives a little whine in response. "You’ve been so good to me - oh - made me feel so good. Wanna hear you say my name." 

He comes with a series of short breathy moans and Cecilia’s name on his mouth, eyebrows knit tightly together. Cecilia feels his cock kick inside of her and Copia grinds as close as he can get, desperate to give it all to her, as his balls draw up hot and tight to his body. She gives him a few fluttery squeezes, just for the fun of it, and he sighs. Copia collapses on his forearms and brings his forehead against Cecilia’s, brow damp. She cranes her head up and kisses his nose, then his mouth. He huffs a pleased little laugh and kisses her back.

"I don’t want to let you go," she murmurs, carding her fingers through his hair. "You feel so right inside of me."

"You never have to, Cecilia. Cara mia. I’m yours." He shivers as an aftershock trembles through him.

Overcome, Cecilia kisses him again, deep and slow and long. "I love you. I love you. This is home."

Copia’s eyes are shining as he looks down at her. "You’re all I ever wanted. Ti amo."

Tag list: @sakuraspoke @circle--of--confusion

End notes: "The shivery slip-slide of their tongues draws another whimper from Cecilia’s throat" was the first sentence of this fic that I wrote. We've come a long way - thanks for being along for the ride!

To lovely humans who were excluded from invitations, left behind when they tied their shoes, forced to walk in the grass when the sidewalk was full, spoken over when you tried to contribute, whispered about or laughed at, given side-eye when you tried to fit in…. you are so worthy of love.

Guy just walked in with a shirt that said “I don’t question my wife’s choices because I’m one of them” and frankly I’m obsessed

Hey, a soft reminder: people like you. You're treasured. Your contribution to this fandom space is always noted and always so appreciated. You are so very loved inside and outside of the internet, friend.