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yandere-daydreams · 5 months

Text

Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

—and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

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notmyneighbor · 26 days

Text

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you

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astralnymphh · 5 months

Text

stuff you up ౨ৎ

aestras thanksgiving smut special

' so who's getting stuffed, you or the turkey? '

HELP PALESTINE . DO NOT BUY TLOU2

♡. summary; fuck the festivities, who actually cares about all that sappy shit. instead, embark a newly founded festivity– fucking your girlfriend up in the dusty memory of your old bedroom~ ♡. a\n; late af as fuck but just a fun little smut, nothing too serious, a bit rushed but here y'all go ♡. CW; groping under the table, fingering (r), clit stim (r), strapping (r), horndog!ellie, dom!ellie, tipsy!ellie, risky sex (joel almost catches u), cock referred as 'her' + referred as ellies, cocktip teasing, ass grabbing, some ass smacking, some plot, jokey bickering, readers a bit bratty, a slight brat-taming moment if you squint, mouth muffling, squirting, petnames; babe, baby, babygirl, princess, good girl, (lmk if i missed anything)

♡ WC; 5.5k ♡ masterlist ♡ thanks 2 @fleshunger 4 proofreading the intro ♡

Paired minds savor the embellishing glow of lit stick candles settled before them in a ritzy manner– shedding light over plates of arraying colors. Marination that glistens, crispness that scrapes, and mushy mesas' of garlic herb potatoes that delicately slump in the cradle of a spoon. Consume with your eyes first, then your cameras– and conclusively, your rumbling tummy.

Rather to consume what's meant to be, than to gorb the scruffy haired girl next to you– at least for now, yes?

It's your first Thanksgiving with Ellie, being that you two only linked heartstrings this year.

You, the possibly innocent angel that you are– right now, serve clement smiles to whomever talks to you, be it Joel or some random relative who’s name only just surfed your ears this night, it doesn't matter. De rigueur, wear it well.

A baser mind– I mimic regret while telling you this– tumbles far from the garden of Eden and slips away into a daunting realm, the underworld. By under, I mean downstairs, below the button, the internals. Ellie straight up, served hot, was just bursting with hormones. The tender meat oozing with buttery slick melt fell short in maintaining the contact of those chartreuse eyes, instead, suffering the envy of them rooted to your thighs beneath the oak.

Noses immerse themselves in salty goodness, eyes feast before gobs could, rolling molars gnaw turkey off the tines of forks, but her, her cunts' the only organ thinking right now.

Especially while seated adjacent to you, her clit was throbbing past the hard material of her jeans.

"You both settlin' in your new apartment?" Joel's bellowed drawl carries over the other muted chatter, low in the background.

"Mhm," your hum slopes and rises behind lips sealed to a glass rim, then part with a smack, "Ellie’s definitely settled more than me." ending with a giggle.

Her ear pivots from you, dirt–dappled nose at the fore, "Oh? What's that 'spose to mean babe?"

"Can't keep your hands off that shiny new Playstation, hmm?"

"Tchh– you bought it for me." replied her with a skosh of sass.

"That I did."

"Uh–" Joel bumbles.

Els drones out, "Andd all my video games–"

"Where's my thank you?" you pout in frolick, forwarding your face for her view.

Hmph.

Her miffy eyes bounce around her skull hence to piloting back on yours, her own pout puffing, "Okayy, here," she sighs lowly, nosing her lips down to pucker a peck– smacking together.

A shared hum in approval vibrates between the bond of skin, half–approval, a kiss was meager in your book of play, and you felt particularly playful this eve.

With a finished kiss, leaves your mouth to mouth a sneaky little quip, fruitful in a whisper, "Didn't hear a thank you~"

"Hmm?"

"Els.."

Faces still bathing in transferring warmth, her breath hitches on your mid–face, a sigh to end all worries, "You'll see, just wait." Her voice cracks a bit, silken on your ears.

Waiting wasn't even on the table.

Not when a brawny hand suddenly gropes your inner–thigh, squeezing the fat in little wags.

Give thanks to whomever, thank fuck for being at the tables edge, where nobody else could witness this.

"Anywho–" Ellie grogs her throat clear of those debaucheries, returning to her normal seated poise, "yeah, like, we're settled– thanks for helpin' us find that place." her pitch heightens, flowing into a nosy chuckle.

"Course, kiddo." softly spoken off Joel’s sentiments, but minding less attention and returning his mouth to something more, toothsome. Foodsome.

Goddess, her grip is mighty.

Devious fingers– they found their way, quick. Fingers such as hers, waxy and pale, rigid and calloused, stamping up your hip and giving firm pressure to the bone. Knuckles flushed of pigment, they dig around the crest wanton, nudging you slightly.

"Seriously?" you spit through grit teeth, wiggling your hips in reaction.

Ellie harks your mutter, tugging those smug corners into a cocky smile as her nervy nature would plant her in, naughty–toothed smile, "Huuh?" that bastard coos, "what's wrong babe?"

"You dickhead."

"Me, dickhead?"

"Yes, you, dickhead."

"That's a lot of dicks n' heads, what is it with you and dicks n' heads?" she creeps her face closer, squinting dumbly– which only made her onslaught of 'heads and dicks' more peeving now that you really loured at her.

Grimacing at her dense brows queller than a storm, blushy nostrils taunting in a wiggle, it subtly made sense– impish coquetry. The kind of shit you toss like a game of ball, prior to the main event. An event, to be seen.

"Why you givin' me that look, huh?" she squints lower in return, flaring her nose, "Do I have a dick for a head?"

"I would not kiss you if that were the case," you claim advantage of her closeness and peck her goofish scowl, forcing a crescent to spry on that mouth, "Dork."

Hooks on your hip palpate harsher on the jut, her thumb swiping where the cushion and your butt cleft. Pressure given, when words pique her interest.

"Babe," Els murmured with fry in her chords, "d'ya want it?"

"It?" you gulp.

"Mhm.." thrummed she, eluding, "c'mon, you know.." said with that chilling husk, whew.

Okay, maybe it's clearer–than–a–midsummers–noon clear, that Ellie was a tad tipsy. Pink worm of hers just couldn't resist the samplage of some bourbon, sweet oakey notes that evoke memories of bourbon skies hence, quite the beautifying thought. Skies where you play a shrouded silhouette to her line of sight, tapping thumb to chin in ponder. Ponder, pondering.. for what were you pondering those sunsets?

Yet now you lacked a ponder on whatever the hell she was hinting to, only for it to ferment suddenly.

"Ellie, what are you on–"

"My fingers," a blurt wets her whistle, cocking her head dear to your poor ear, "do you want.. my fingers– in.." you feel her dual digits dive in the crevice of your thigh and groin, curling snugly.

"Ellie.." you hiss, pinching your brows in honest bewilderment.

Her pinkie roves over the bulge of your crotch and punctures the inseam right above your clit, stinging the little bud– which throbbed at her press.

"Do you?" her breath wanes, speech sedated with the aim of persuading you.

Contemplation was considered– maybe too carefully, maybe not. Problem one, legitimately most if not all of your family was within spitting distance of you, but on the other hand, the gutsy hand, weighed her offer slacker than a greedy businessman. In precis, her puppy eyes of coveted sanction, rears triumph. Dickhead.

A caught gulp squeezes down your gullet, puffing your chest out, "Mhm.."

"Okay.. mhh–" she giggles with husk, creasing up as her lithe fingers trace and wrest your fly open, skulking her hand beneath the hood, "Just focus on dinner baby, I got this.." wisped soft, kindred to cashmere.

The unyielding stretch of your denim fastens around your hips in the act of her palm ramming inside, yanking you forward. Pursing your lips in elated exhales, you try, try to winch meat to mouth and void the tamping of your clit, try as you might– the pleasure is dire.

Ellie’s prints depress a lewd discovery, the stub of her smaller knuckle thickens itself in leaky panty, secreting from your eager hole. A discovery, worth a hushed gasp, "Ooh? Wet already babe? God damn.."

"Shut.. up.." choked you, only reaping a laugh from her.

"Fuck, I do all this?"

"Duh."

"Hehe– fuck that's hot.."

She withdraws her fingers half–way, to slither them under your panties. And without a foraged bit of foreplay, dilates your labia with her furled digits loading inside of you.

A squishy nub brushes your sweet spot.

Your pipes in turn swell with sharp intake, wall of your throat cooling instantly. Fuck, bona fide fuck. Enormously fucked when her pumps wreak gentle squelches from your dewy core.

"Jesus, mhphh.." a gruff of air susurrus from her, starkening her torso in an 'appeasingly normal' angle so she may, blend in, bemusing your mother with small–talk, "So, d'you always have a gathering this big on Thanksgiving?"

Out of all people, really, Els?

She indulges with a smile, purely answering, "Oh yeah, every year– whole family, too many relative I suppose." fading erratically into a giggle.

"Heh– ‘least you got a big house, shitt– I mean," In spite of sounding casual, slips into a grit curse when your wet walls clench her in, "–dang, what I wouldn't give to live here, right babe?"

A mere butt of her elbow nearly dips you into the waters of appearing– deviant of natural, those slender digits, twisting a tender knot inside. She pumps at a canter, lesser than brisk, swifter than a slug. Beat, beat, beat to your g–spot, akin to the pitter, pitter, pat of your whizzing heart.

"Y–yeah, soo jealous, even though I did as a kid.." laughing it off awkwardly, a bask of 'Please let that be the only time I talk.' relief uplifts your sunk gut, momentarily.

"You still eating well livin' on your own?" your mother queries, tuning that time–old maternal charm.

"I mean, d–decent, enough–"

Ellie thrusts her fingers faster, fashioning a trickle of ooze to froth out onto your underwear. Pacified by the sensations, you clamp tighter, knocking a winded hitch to your staggering speech. Fucking inconvenient. Olives of her eyes binge a glint so bawdy, yet inlaid in a bad case of puppy–face, bullshit purity on her glossy lips. She knew the consequences, and consumed them like nothing.

"Pshh– decent? Babe, please, I'm like the microwave master!" exclaimed she, feigning a biggety tone atop her rasp.

You scoff, "Ah–" shuffling your thighs in light see–saw motions, "again, decent."

The knot squeezes as she finger–fucks the tranquility of mind from your pussy, staring knives at you when her supple thumb drags your clit in flicks.

"Sure it's not good?"

"Mh–mh.."

"Like, really good?"

No way she was referring to the microwave meals anymore.

Your mother intrudes softly, "Honey I can start bringin' you my homemade food if it's not–"

"It's okay, she's just playin' around–" Ellie replies before a vowel can flutter your lips, proceeding to eye–fuck you with a smug visage, "she loves my cooking." she rasped, eyes slimly showing.

All you can spotlight on is her gropey hands, jerking you like some toy, it felt too fucking good. Too pleasant to snuff, too divine to scold, exhilarating to your veins sore with salaciousness. Then, you route back to a ponder, what more could she stipulate?

"M' gonna go to the bathroom," you swat her hand out and jostle your fly up, netting a coo of amusement from Ellie– secretly.

"You good babe?" she vocalizes after, keeping her pussy–prune digits free of smear.

"Come with me." purred you, hoisting from the oaken chair.

Ellie's lids arise with tangible hots– an aphrodisia densely potent of kindiling her eyes. No anointing of sanctity will ripen her intentions, nor anchor the even throb of her cunt. For a throb is a hymn, to you. She wants you, and she's going to have you. Moments and minutes hence, falter to compare in energy.

Cue her cheek pleating smile.

"Okay–" a light snort prances off her open lips, whirling her lap aside to skim through the tight wedge and stumbling to you, "which bathroom we doin'–"

"Just follow me," your voice aspires over, cusping your hand and snagging her calloused ones in the curve of it, "gonna' show you somethin'."

"Heh–" she chuckles dryly, tailgating with a gentle pull of your forearm.

You two whip around a door nook, glide through the foyer and advance upon a staircase. Your cotton–clad heels stroke wood planks beat by beat, soft wallops that carom off skyscraping maroon wine walls. Ribbons of lunar light dangle on and off your heads, crafting gauzy shrouds that mix and mingle off the corners with a bobbing ascent. Every wall laid reminiscent of a ritzy manor, a lacquer of lavish.

The flight of stairs then ingress into a much thinner hall, in a much quainter space, and fitted to each doors awaiting enigma. Duller light spills through, glossing the path you took towards a fawny brown door– your bedroom.

Ellie espies the cleave of an abutting door, aiming a bead on with her index, "Wait– isn't that the–"

"Shh," you gingerly rustle air on locked teeth, shifting your arm towards the gilded rotund knob and twining with metal clicks and clacks, "bathroom was just a cover up."

"Oh~"

"Hmm hm~" you kittenly croon.

The barrier pendulates sideward from your stride, only to be elbowed soundly back to a wisping shut. You pinch the little knob's notch and, click, lock the door. An amused flit of breath pours from her agape lips, catching your wordless gist bereft of another second.

Ellie thrums that same old rasp, sweetening you up, "Real smooth babe, takin' us up here.." her feet coast her closer to you, kitty–cornering you to a rearwards stumble.

Plaster bumps, a welting sharp ridge– they trench in your ankle and up as your calves butt the wall, inevitably backed up. Trapped, positively trapped.

"Well–" a scoff enlightens your latter words, "couldn't just stay there with you two fingers deep, hm?" and your 'hm' asks for her agreement, pitch yawing.

"Was 'gonna make it three, but.."

"But?"

Her head shrouds yours in a gray penumbra, orangey–tint nose a scant whisker from brushing yours, and sends you into a conundrum with a mere utter, a tepid utter, "got uhh', something better for you." tying off with a willed lip bite.

"Oh really?" you moon with pep, hooking a calf around hers.

She smokily coaxes, "Fuck yeah– look." her knotty digits then cruise around her hips, meeting at her denim zipper and tugging that metal tab down. Fleeting as starlight, she thumbs the belt–band and chucks her jeans just beneath the ruck of her asscheek, chafing fabric to fabric with her lax boxers.

A lone brow quirks, expressing the fact that with the way she juts hers hips forward and palms her crotch weirdly– it reared too obvious, "Ellie, don't tell me–"

A springy mass wiggles against the front inseam, held in her teasy tauty grip– veins popping of course, "Tell youu whaat?" her words muff in hoarse laughter.

"Baby.." you exhale, adjoining a whiny moan. Ellie's such a goofy tease.

That simple mass in her crotch, was a sign– a clear, lucid, taintless and foretelling, that you were getting stuffed like a turkey tonight.

In counter, her exhale fuses with yours in dancing particles, so gentle, finer than purity made flesh, "Babe.." and such gentleness caresses your ears, a pureness forgotten in those divinity forsaken puppy eyes– pout moist.

You can't rend your pupils elsewhere, trapped like mice, you gape with encroaching arousal dowsing out your nerves– and drenching down below. Markedly, where you gaze now– her fingers tug the waistband down, exposing the bulbous green head of her cock in her boxers tight band, barely, literal orb of luster dabbled on the tip.

Now your eyes truly cannot escape.

Cotton tenderizes in lines around the bulge, her hand stroking above the shape. And the way you stare, fucks her mind good, speaking throatily, "God," a gulp bubbles, "can't stop starin' hmm?"

"Hehe– couldn't help but wear it?" you snap back.

"Yes ma'am," said off a grunt, pushing said bulge to your curious hand, pleading for a rub, "you gonna' suck her?" soothing is her tone, a breathless moan.

You coo, "Want me to?" and weasel your palm in circles, watching her pelvis follow.

"Uh'huh babe– mhh, need it.." she rolls the hem of her shirt up to her ribs, flaunting that strapping waist– perfectly toned.

Appetent with sure appetite, you nod, a nod that tows her lids down, down.. down, till the green born of her eyes rely on a thin horizon hawkeyeing you. A sliver of sparkle, eager in you. It only takes you dual bends of the knees, stamping chiffony flesh to cold oak and your fingers tucking in her underwear– to excite Ellie.

"Yeah, m'gonna suck her, suck that cock." you mouth in broken vowels, steeping breath on her firm navel pouch.

"Fuck.." she nimbly grunts and tosses her head back, tightening skin on the jounce of her adams apple, swallowing.

Giving tender pressure on her boxers, you slither them netherward until they sojourn atop her bunching jeans fixed above the knee. You swear, those quads of hers clench at your brushing touch, causing your sights to skip up on that dangling cock. Wow. The fat head pokes your nose–tip, curbing up as she cradles its silicone girth to palm.

"Hold uh'," what you expected to be 'up' erupts as a tiny grunt snuffing, eyeing her other hand concealing her lips with a muffled 'puh' to top, "there we go." that hand draws down to smear her spit along the length, squelching mildly.

"Mhh–" you hum shorn of audible sound, batting keen breath on her strap, "–so big.."

You tell her that, everytime. And everytime, she revels in that negligible fact, shutting her eyes in skin–sheathed darkness– pinpointing on how too–too hot that seems. And the way you say it? Oof.

Ellie tacks five fingerprints on your head's crown and coaxes in flits of force, easing you on, "My god, babygirl– oooh.." she relishes an oval–mouthed moan, watching your lips wrap her cockhead.

And it's warmer than anything you've gobbled so far this eve.

Balming a heat like that, tucked in her boxers so neatly and snug– it tickles your gums. Soft and pliant, your lips are, they crease and roll under as you swallow her in, impressing a pit on your tongue when they meet.

"Hhmmm.." you moan a mouthful on the frothed up silicone, dragging your lips back over to motion a bounce of your head.

"I know~" she coos to your bumble, pucking her hips with an equal piston to her pelvis, "them' lips feel goood– fuuckkk.." as if you can feel them, dork.

You clasp her thickness in hooks of your tongue, sending splotches and globs of spit to pool around your oval–ringed mouth, courtesy of her tip bumping your throat in, "Guh- guh, guh, guhh–" prods.

Ohh, that birdsong. The quaffing of your vocal bands subject to her humps, producing a rhythmic beat to alight her hormones. Your song worthy of hearing. You wimp the swelling sink that her nails wreak, a flicker between cuspate tapering and a meek love– a calling for more.

Enlighten me a morsel of those twisted, dirty thoughts, auburnhead devil.

Leathery wads of her free digits roam hot on your pulping cheeks, chiseling out as you suck. Her fingers then find themselves arcing a tuck behind your ear, thumb printed to your temple. A dash of encourage, she presses, a truer than blue visage, she contorts ran by pleasure. Squelch, suckle, drag spit, and repeat.

Due to your stretching spread of lips taking her well, likeness of a blockade in your mouth, you couldn't speak. Obviously. So over the wish–wash of saliva, Ellie tunes you in with her filthy comments.

"Suckin' my filthy cock.. fuck–" she pauses with a gruff moan, baking in your brain deep, "gonna' make me cum so goood–" her vowel strains, clenching her pussy lips around nothing except the cool, cruel air, "yes.."

A reed of cold nips your chin, seconds hence realization settles; you're getting sloppy. A manifestation of Els actually fucking your noggin to slosh, wouldn't spark surprise if liquid poured from your cranium at this point.

Her own arousal rots you further down, too.

With the feeling of her cock climbing near hellward down your throat, smacking on the gummy walls, and the husk her moans endure, crucifies your pussy with an ache of want. Fabric of your jeans suffers a beat, your clit, throbbing. It hurts so good and it stings so right, so tight, you need her now.

A faster bob you give, the more Ellie can't take it either.

"Babe–" she hawks out, but fails to halt your bopping movements, "babe, fuck–" the digits parked behind the conch of your ear skip and push your jaw up, staking her cock out with a spring.

"Ghh– schhlp, huh?" a chuck of spit muddled your words, unfurled tongue lapping up every web left by your messy, messy mouth.

Nook of her hand like a cusp to your jaw, she beckons you with a nudge, and rasps, "Up– c'mon, n'turn that ass around."

Ass. Something about that word reverberated in you, bothered you hotly, made a tepidness leak from your cheeks. The rasp she rung it with, eyeing you with twin fern flames for irises– an approaching engulfment to marry your skin with ashen blessing, more consuming. Ass, Ash, haha.

A flutter in your hips spreads like fire across your legs. It weakens the muscle you bend, standing upright challenged resemblant of a feat, especially when Ellie's grabby gropes found purchase in the crevice of your hips, spindling you on a quick axis. It wanes the composure you hold like a goblet, dwindling to shattered shards across the floor, primarily as those bedeviled claws slot under rough woven denim and remove them false of trouble and trick– ruching to nothing at the root of your ankles.

Where happy hubbub clamors downstairs, pleased pandemonium moans upstairs.

A jut of two knobby hip bones thump into each asscheek, denting the skin into a gully. Warmth, a ligature of it rides through your backside, making you shake. Not like her hands would let you tremble, one being so immovably returned to your hip.

"Fuuck that pussy 'been waitin' for me, huh? Can just tell.." mumbles her with vocal fry, pupils ogling bare of shame at your cinched folds, clasping nothing.

"Your fault."

"Oh really?"

"Mhm.." you hum timidly.

"Gonna call me dickhead again, or–" a fat ball teases the dripping lips of your pussy, spreading them slightly and sloshing the skin around, "Is this enough?"

To give way, was a mistake, buckling your pelvis deeper on her cock which faces a grip ardent to shaft– teasing with rolls of her wrist. The cockhead, or literal dickhead, warps and smooshes against your clit as she toys with it. A whiny, "Huuh– Els.." mangles in your larynx, pitching.

"Yeah, you like that? Know you do." that damned smirk lives in her curving tone, sweet with a dash of tang. Her cock dilates your delicate folds further, exposing the velvet flesh to cold air and an intrusive visit.

Your fiendish pussy kisses her cocktip and ceases its movement, clamping her in place, whimpering, "Mhh, ahh– ah.."

"Hey, 'lemme go– was just getting started babe," she laughs crisply, landing a fine plume touch to your ass, "c'mon.. loosen up.."

A flux of slacken tires the muscles that clamp her in, hugging your entrance more softly around her tip.

Ellie winches weight on her knees, crouching her groin into you with a slow swerve, "There we go.." she purrs with tension in her tune, relieving a sigh when her cock pops in silkenly.

You seize up, gasping sharply, hips begging to break brittle in her grasp of iron– but iron does not deform easily. Pressure stays pressured, and digits knurl over the hill of your hip bone to prop it upright. With walls expanded on her cock like your pussy was made for her, it humbles you, belittling you to sludge in her metal caress.

"Fuuckk yeah–" she broadens her sigh of bliss, abrading on the 'K', like a crackle. Pleasure kills neutrality in the smoothest way, gathering grooves in her forehead, "y'feel so warm baby.. mhmm–"

"That's not even your dick.." you half–way give a giggle, suppressing the moans you choke up.

A tense whistle of air sounds from Ellie's nose, a reaction of vague irritation, "Swear to god.." her tongue smacks after and a sudden thrusting of her fat cock catches your mind astray, winding those choked moans out.

"Uhn– uh fuck, huhh–" you babble.

"Not my dick huh? Who's fucking you? Tell me, fuck– yeah?" Her words warble where skin smacks, wetness palping in obscene squelches.

Does she really expect you to answer when her cock continually swells your cunt and abuses your g–spot? Yeah. Ellie will fuck the answer from one hole to the other, if she so feels compelled to.

But of course, you don't answer.

"Baaabeee," she taunts, "baabyyyy," and tortures, "who she getting fucked by right now, tell mee.." and fucks, cooing purer than vernal spring washed in the rain, mushing globs of pre–cum all over your cervix.

"Y-you.."

"That's right."

This feels almost violating to your vagina, to be stuffed like this. Did she size up? Get a new strap? Whatever the case presents itself as, it felt fucking good. Made you woozy, each bop she played like a drum on your sore ass, summoning a white ring of creamy sap to veil around her cock's girth. White droplets failed to envelop her cock, though, each jiggle of your muck bodies lashing beads of it onto the oak boards, your thighs, her pretty auburn bush, etcetera. Attempting to grab the wall, duh– that fails, then you scramble jittery digits across said wall, awkwardly finding a rigid door trim to grasp at long last– speak of the devil, Ellie laughs at that.

"Haha– aww, too big for you princess?" she utters to you like a dumbass, ego brimmed with the pumps her cock skids on your gummy walls, smirking with thinned lips.

Vulnerability loathes humility, "Fuck y–you."

"Sure."

Her perception of sight, harboring verdancy, drops low to your bulging hole that swallows her good– as you should, tender milk that pools inwards as she slides out, and froths a flood of slick when she humps it back to the same hole it spilled from.

Might she indulge more sampling?

Ellie's hell–sworn index traces your swelling folds mellowly, togging a cap of pearly cum on her finger pad. Scrutinize, then she licks. Her peach lips kiss her finger softly, puckering wrinkles as she sucks the sleek off, "Sssmhpt–" her lips zip, "yeah–ha, that's what 'm taking about–" delighted, she is.

The knot in your womb begins to coil and fill, a rapturous sting impaling inside. Your folds, springing on her friction, sends a ripple to fluctuate in your ass cheek. Enticing. So enticing, Ellie grabs a handful, bloating fat strokes of your buttcheek between the webs of her delirious fingers.

"Ghh– yes.. yes–" she growls, deep in her lungs. The harness in return rubbed her clit in all the right ways, electrocuting her legs with a twitch, "arch that bsck f'me baby, c'mon– arch on my fuckin' cock–"

Harking her, you heed. Heed with a convex draw of your back, protruding your ass out for her messy usage. That– that was the last straw, her only straw. You being so keen. Something less than a mutter of, "Good girl." was the last audible voice you could pick up, her game swapping to a faster ramming into your sloppy pussy.

"Ellie!" you wince, praying on a star, "So g–good.." you gape and fall forward, smearing slobber on the drywall.

Her cock was too much.

A tear soaked upon that very wall, gifting it a taste of your salty heaven.

"Mhmm– god, fuck fuck fuck! You're so good, s'good t'me.." a breath shuddered, she limps forward onto you. Her pale hips still punishing with a litany of humps, now scores deeper on your gushy cervix, her drenched chest marking hot on your clothed back.

"Needa' cum– Els, babe.." why you were even asking, might flummox a future specter of yourself– purling on her thickness, feeling the endless tension pull from you in strings of cum, kissing the head of her cock, you were on the train track to cumming already. Dumbified questions really egged Ellie on, luckily.

"Yeah baby, want'chu to– all over her, she needs it, mhm–" she assures you, two foam–spit lips stamping your lobe, "feel that baby?" her elbow mounts like a belt to your hip crest, ducking under and tamping your womb, palm to pudge, and intones, "She's so fucking deep– shit.."

Spade of her cock punching your walls, over and over, you finally snap. The added hand to your belly, sought it done. Done well, pronto.

You convulse in tight vices to squeeze her dick, orgasm shaking you to the literal core, "Huunhh– Ellie, Els! Ssuhh– Ell–" a clammy paw wedges your mouth from splitting the walls with your uproar, fingers tender on your lips cushion.

"Shh– shh.. not so loud babe, take it easy–" snuffing you, she talks clemently, little grunts detailing you on how close she was, too, "that's it.. don't hold back baby– uh, fuck."

Her cock fucks you just right, blows you fried so easily, with every heavy lunge– you weep.

A pang twisting inside averts a sightly gaze to the beautiful coastline of darkness, pure oblivion. Fuzzy dollops of faded splotches prance your vision like a sick joke, mocking your high. You can't even croak, not even a peep, just sit back and let cum dribble from your hole, plashing her filthy cock in a sick mess.

Right on a dream–like cue, a snarled groan mauls from the deepest depth of her diaphragm, fresh on your ear, "Ghhodd– fhmm, good fuckin' pussh– mhh!"

Splash.

Her lids squinted tight, nose flared wide, she came. In waterfalls you couldn't observe, but swore you heard. A geyser to the floor, hyaline ribbons of her precious flavor taint the floor so disgustingly, so vividly, it shines.

Guess the wine loosened both of her lips.

She usually does not cum like that.

Damn.

Muggy exasperation fans your neck in ghostly hands that wrap, a recalescent mist baying for some kind of relief in dramatic swells and shrinks her chest pushes into you. Then, something moreso flobbed, a chuckle.

"Heheh–" her fingers slip from your lax lips, tapping kittenly on your chin.

"That's was, mhh– um–" you huff, dead of air just like her.

"Good?"

"Yup, just– couldn't.. oof.."

Her lips purse and plant a kiss to your scruff, grinning against the flesh, "Did good for me," moist smacks besmirch further, rasping, "felt so good t–"

A beating of hardy steps peals through the door's underside, sending a wash of shock over both of you abruptly.

"Fuck." Ellie's voice muffles sotto voce, darting grips to your folded hips, thumbs tacking on the streched knoll your ass provided.

You perk your ears in tune of this noise, gut instinct curls and kicks your body to move, bucking back on Els– who mind you, was still sheathed inside you.

That knocked another grunt from her, "Hmmph– don't do that– god, babyy.." she whines, runting back into you.

Hole stuffed back up, you clench your fists into a ball. This idiot.

"Ellie? You in there?" A familiar, dense, Texan drawl aptly known as Joel's, beacons from beyond the door.

That's bad.

"Shit what do I–"

"Get off, for onee–" a tense on your chords, you huff, bucking her muck sweat thighs off your hind and skidding out her cock pronto. The sudden emptiness was jarring, but, no time to waste.

"Fuck! Again–" she hisses.

You crouch your bare bum inches from the floor and swoop up the pooling pile of denim and cotton panties, rearing them up and fiddling with the metal button. Ellie followed suit, the best of her abilities– sex really fogs up her faculties, and pressed her cock plumb to her stomach as to tuck it properly her boxers, letting the band snap in place on waist– gently.

Triple knocks erupt, and then his bellow, "Kiddo?"

"We're good, we'll be down!" she calls back, eyes far from not studying your scurrying silhouette, just has to comment, "–fuck that ass." like she wanted more.

A grumbled 'Hmm' vibrates on the oak, trailed by fleeting footsteps that trudge away, thump, thump– you get it.

"Oh?" you kink your whisper, foxily, "second rounds?" and pivot around to face her.

"Mphht– not what I meant, dickhead." her voice deepens weirdly at the brink her sentence plonked upon, cocking her head with a smirk.

"Whatever." your eyes roll, capering off the room's corners.

"Hmph–" gruffed in amusement, "Cutie." gingerly steps huddle you right against that wall again, two biceps meeting warmth–to–warmth with your soaken shirts waistline.

Scoff, just scoff, "I think this is how second rounds start, liar."

She goes all bumbly, furrowing those bushy orange brows and frisking her eyes in a roll, copycat, "Don't get me started, pleasee." she begged fakely, cadence dense.

"Too late."

"You're right." her lips, wisp to yours so perfectly timed, interlocking one pink bud under your top lip and butting noses, plushing together in tide. Even plopped a little smack to the clad meat of your ass, how sweet.

A scant hint of dinner lingered on her breath, passed to you like a spill. Makes you want to slink those stairs in one go for a different palate of seconds. But, alas, you two bet smooches on the hope of no further interruptions, scarfing up kisses like hungry dogs.

(pls lmk if u wanna be added to the perm list, some mentions didnt work!)

@whore4abby @aouiaa @ellieslittlewhore @baumbii @tlougrl @mina-281 @beabeebrie @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @nicolicht @cosmikoo @xinyaya @sawaagyapong @reinersbigolboobies @brunettedolls-blog @syrenada @fairyysoiree @p4ison1vy @nil-eena @hi2647 @disaster-bi-suki @rarestdoll @narieater @hrtmal @eudaemoniaaaa @ellie-07063 @luvfaeri @carleenaelaine @kissyslut @ellieswh0r3 @beemillss

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moncherellie · 6 months

Text

𓆩⚝˚‧no room for the holy spirit ♱꙳˚₊‧

a/n: finally it's here! been screaming into the void abt this one for... ever. a thousand thank yous to @thirsting-over-women who proofread this for me :>> my savior actually. if the religious themes offend you (whether you are religious or have trauma) i encourage you not to read, maybe check out my other works instead :D

content/warnings: 4,500 words, preachers daughter!ellie x fem!reader, nsfw, reader wears a skirt, semipublic/car sex, fingering, oral (r receiving), reader's first wlw experience, sexual awakening?, religious motif, christian themes, mild religious guilt throughout, mentions of religious homophobia, internalized homophobia, ellie smokes a lil, she's a bit mean, fuckin in a church parking lot

The pressures of being a teenage girl were hard enough without the pressures of being a gay teenage girl. Being a gay teenage girl was hard enough without the pressures of being the daughter of a fucking preacher. Ellie had never really bought into the whole 'organized religion' thing, ever the skeptic. Even as a puny 8-year-old, she asked why she had to wake up early every Sunday for something she didn't even like doing. Her attitude didn't change much after that, but her parents got stricter and stricter in an attempt to control her sacrilege. She didn't spend much time with her family, instead seeking familial bonds at school, especially with her mechanics teacher, Mr. Miller. But, you know what they say:

Strict parents raise sneaky children.

And it's true. If Ellie's dad knew what she was doing outside the holy walls of the ministry, he'd have an aneurysm and have her exorcised. But, she always thought, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

You were the opposite. Raised the same as Ellie, you took to religion and fully participated, though mostly out of obligation. Just go every week for an hour and your family will leave you alone. This tactic, for the most part, worked. Your traditional family had their rough moments, specifically when they mocked the outfits you'd wanted to wear to service and called you some... unsavory names. But if you could avoid any similar incident, any clash with authority, you were taking the holy road.

On the outside, you were the purest of people. There was never a bad or dirty thought in your mind. You were a pillar of the community, someone that parents pointed out to their kids. "Be like them," they'd say. Your parents were proud, so you should've been proud. Should've.

You and Ellie had grown up quite close due to being in similar social groups and seeing each other every week at service. Since then, you'd grown apart as you took different paths in life, though you still felt a sense of commitment toward her; So when she cursed out her father in front of the clergy, your eyes widened.

"You fucking dick! You don't know shit about anything! You use all this- this... bullshit- as a crutch so you don't have to own up to your own baggage!"

As she stormed out, you silently move from your spot in the choir, doe eyes shining in the bath of stained glass light, and shuffle up to the front of the room.

"Father, if I may, I would like to go check on your daughter." You're a model fixture, a saint.

"Of course, my child. I hope someday she'll be more like you. I pray that-" You shuffle off again, not wanting to hear about how he wishes his daughter was different. He really wishes his child hid who she was, you think bitterly. You admired Ellie's rebellion, though you'd never say it, and you wished you were as strong as her.

You walk away from the church to the little park you and Ellie used to go to. Your memories flood with nostalgia for simpler times, and you smile to yourself, pleasantly strolling through the large trees and foliage and looking for the rough girl. You find her crouching against a tree, squatting with her head between her legs.

Is she crying?

"... Ellie? Are you alright?" You whisper, not wanting to startle her.

You notice Ellie tense up before quickly standing up and whipping around to face you, a hand behind her back. "Oh! It's... you. Hey. Aren't you s'posed to be inside?"

"Yeah, but I just wanted to check on you. That was intense in there."

"Mhm, I'm good. Just needed some, ah, fresh air. Y'know?" She sounds a little too jolly, weirdly chipper. It's suspicious.

"Uh-huh," you say, unconvinced. "Whatcha got there?" You point to whatever she's trying to conceal.

She knows she's been caught. Her attitude suddenly shifts from faux-innocence to her usual snarky persona as she rolls her eyes, leaning against the tree and revealing what she had. She brings her hand up to her lips. "Nothing."

"Ellie!" You shriek. "You can't do that! Where'd you even get a cigarette?"

She laughs as if you'd said the funniest thing imaginable. "You think this is a cigarette? Are you stupid? No offense. But are you stupid?"

You scoff. "No! I mean, you're smoking it. What else am I supposed to guess?"

"A blunt, idiot. Kush. Mary Jane. Weed. Ma-ri-jua-na." She spells out for you like you're a toddler.

You cross your arms defensively. "Okay, I know what weed is, smart guy. You still shouldn't have it. Where's it from?"

"Stole it. I just wanted to see why people liked it so much. They say it relieves stress, and I think yes." Ellie grins lazily, eyes lidded. "I got another. You want?"

The answer to your question only makes you freak out more. "No! And you stole?! You stole? Oh my goodness, Ellie, you're gonna get us thrown in jail or something!"

Ellie wordlessly watches your breakdown, eyes red and amused, the corner of her mouth turned up. "Relax, man, it's barely illegal. Who's calling the cops for a single gram? Don't be lame like that."

"Lame?" You scoff. "Are you a first grader? Ellie, it's against the law, you could go to prison. And it's not juvie anymore, you're gonna go to real jail!" Your hands flail around wildly as you explain the repercussions of her actions.

"Jail..." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes, jail! That's kinda what happens when you steal something, Ellie!" The high-pitched, prissy tone with which you said her name was starting to annoy her, but the way you looked when flustered was intriguing. Maybe in another context, she'd enjoy hearing her name fall from your lips.

Ellie takes another hit, looking up at you. She tilts her head, asking if you're being serious. "Jail? Over a single blunt? Who cares that much?"

You gasp when you realize: "I'm an accomplice!"

"You're not an accessory just because you're here." She chuckles as the wind blows past and carries her smoke near your head as you duck dramatically and swat away the smoke. She looks at you for a moment, slightly smiling. Her green eyes meet yours briefly before turning her attention back to the joint.

"Why are you using it anyway? It smells rancid."

"Already told you. I wanna know why people do it. It relieves stress and I'm plenty stressed. Plus, I look dope as shit with it, right?" Ellie leans against the tree, and a small part of you wants to say yeah, you do. "You should try it. Maybe get that stick out of your ass."

"You're gonna get addicted."

"God, it's just this once. What are you gonna do, tell my dad?" She chuckles to herself, taking a long drag.

She checks you out, head to toe, examining the flowy fabrics and neat hair and the Mary Jane shoes that drive her crazy. Who wears those? Her gaze returns to meet yours, and she looks utterly dumbfounded by you. Your eyebrows furrow as you see how her expression changes. "What's that look for?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I dunno. You're just so robotic. It's like you never think about stepping the teensiest bit out of line. It's creepy. You've never had an independent thought in your life. Have you ever done anything even remotely rebellious?"

You make a noise that seems to say Well why would I? "No! Of course not! And you shouldn't either, I mean look at your dad, he's-"

Her voice raises, a tone you've never heard and don't care to hear again. "-My father? You mean the preacher?" She mocks. "What about him? You don't know anything about my father." Ellie's look hardens, eyes steely and mouth pursed into a thin line. It's a look you've seen maybe twice before, both in much more tense situations. Her voice says that you can't change her mind. You don't care to try. Whatever she's referencing, you believe her.

"Okay. Okay... sorry." You say gently, losing the defensive energy you'd held a moment ago. Ellie sighs and takes an irritated puff. To relax, you think.

"And you always apologize. It's so weird. You need to loosen up a bit." Another long, somehow sarcastic hit. "What's the worst thing you've *ever* done?"

An embarrassing, very private thought crosses your mind. You obviously can't tell her what you think about at night- you're barely able to admit to yourself that you have such impure thoughts. Instead, you shake your head. "Can't- I can't think of anything."

You watch her forest green eyes roll up, then down. It's a very familiar expression on her. "Thought so." She grins up at you, and you look away into the treeline nervously. "Do you wanna try something fun?"

"Is it... illegal?"

"No. Don't worry about that." She motions for you to come closer, so you take a tentative step forward, eyeing her like a wild animal. She hates the way you look at her, making her feel alien. Just because she lives authentically. It makes her want to ruin you, to have you stoop down to her level. Then maybe you won't look at her as if she were extraterrestrial.

You need an attitude adjustment, you need to chill the fuck out, you needed to get fucked, and hard. Ellie thinks she can help you with that.

She grins that toothy smirk as she watches you step closer, taking a puff and placing the blunt between her slender fingers. She doesn't miss the way your eyes trail the two long fingers that hold it. You wonder if she's doing this on purpose.

Ellie backs you up against a tree, and you recognize is as the same old oak that you would climb with her as kids. The branches and bark have left scars on you that Ellie helped you heal. She wonders how they look now.

Your back hits the trunk with an unceremonious thump, and you startle. Ellie keeps walking toward you, now getting uncomfortably close. "Uh- so what are we..." You trail off, thinking she'll explain what she's doing right in your face. She doesn't.

Her arm raises, trapping you between the tree and her body as she studies you. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, but feels incredibly electric at the same time- it's a sensation you've only felt around her, though you don't know why. She takes another hit and you nervously look away.

She tilts your jaw back to look at her. You have to face her pretty green eyes, unwavering as she stares you down, while you sneak glances just to check if she's still there. Your breath speeds up when she leans closer.

Ellie puts her stupid pink slightly chapped adorable smiling lips near the base of your neck.

"What are you doing?" You say breathlessly. You swear that you feel her ghosting over your skin, so close, yet not as close as you want her. Maybe if you lean in...

Before you can, she breathes out her smoke, lightly trailing her lips down your neck. Her tongue comes out to prod at the skin, tasting you. You whine. The smoke envelops the two of you, and your nose crinkles at the foul smell. You look down to chastise her but she's already looking at you with those eyes and that cheeky look. No matter what you say next to defend yourself, you know you're caught, that Ellie knows she's affected you. It's in your eyes, the way you've seized up so tightly, how you look at her like you can't wait to see what she does next.

She presses a chaste kiss on your collarbone and you crane your neck upward. You're not sure if you're trying to get away or if you're giving her more access. She pulls away and you find yourself leaning forward to try to get her back on you.

"Is that the most rebellious thing you've ever done?" She chuckles, taking another drag and blowing it over you, bathing you in the white haze. "You like being treated like that, huh?"

You shiver. "I don't get it," you say dumbly. You've never been this confused.

"What don't you get? I just think it's fun to make you squirm." She thinks you've had enough and blows her next exhale away from you. "I wanna corrupt you, sweetheart." It sounds derogatory coming from her but you find that you don't mind the tone. The spot Ellie had made contact with feels as if it's burning. You crave for that feeling all over your body.

You stammer over your words, pathetically unable to spit out any sort of coherent reaction to her. Any reaction would be better to tripping over your words. Fed up with trying to sound like a person, you decide to stop talking.

"You enjoyed that huh? Admit it." She inhales and repeats her action. "Makes you feel hot inside."

"What? No- no, are you insane?" The sane part of you is telling you that you shouldn't be doing this, especially not with Ellie fucking Williams of all people. She's everything you aren't- she's rude and snarky and devilish... and tall and strong and hot. Oh shit! The batshit insane part of you is slowly melting the angel on your shoulder, and you can basically see the little devil cackling as you feel yourself straying further from the good girl persona you'd cultivated. You feel your heartbeat in your pants.

Ellie begins to kiss down your neck, sucking and licking at your jaw and collarbone. This time, you're acutely aware that you're actively giving her access to do as she pleases with you. "Maybe I'm insane, but I can tell. You did like it. And if you deny, I'll do it again until you tell the truth."

"Well I didn't, so you can forget about-"

She places her thumb on your lower lip as you start your tirade, effectively shutting you up. "Too late." Ellie leans in and before you know it, her lips are on yours. Her arm snakes around the back of your waist and pulls you as close to her as you've ever been. That warm feeling flushes down your body, leaving chills across your skin. More. All you can think is that you want more. Your hands come up to grip her shoulders, you almost want to push her away, but you find yourself pulling her closer and closer. No room for the Holy Spirit.

Ellie pulls away, smugly looking down at you. "Told you you liked it."

"I didn't say that." You were being a contrarian on purpose at this point. Anything to keep Ellie treating you like this- you wanted to prolong this moment for however long you could. She hoists you up, bringing you out of the park and into the back of the parking lot. She throws you into the backseat of her beaten pickup and crawls atop you with darkened eyes.

You squeal in surprise. "El-lie!"

She continues to kiss you, making you wetter by the second. The heat pooling in your panties is so fucking embarrassing, but you find that you don't care how humiliating this is. You just want more.

"Els, what if someone sees?"

She scoffs as if the idea is preposterous; as if the prospect of getting caught is impossible. "Nobody can see us, and they won't leave until later. Don't stress about it." Ellie bites her lip and it makes your body get hot flushes. "I can do whatever I want to you. But you know what? I think you'd let me. Is that right?"

"...Maybe." Read: Yes, yes, anything! She leans down, placing her hand on the back of your neck and pulling your head closer up towards her. Her hand forces your legs apart further to allow her access. The way she lays on your inner thighs, atop your clothed core, makes you feel lightheaded. You love the way she manhandles you, and it's exactly how you thought she'd be. Every time she adjusts her position, your clit rubs against her and sends jolts of electricity up your body.

"I knew it. You're not as perfect as you try to be. You're dirty."

You want to deny it, you really do, but the evidence is clear. You're disheveled under her, lips swollen from hers, and she's pulling your panties to your ankles and shoving them in her jacket pocket, yet you're ashamed to say that you don't feel an ounce of guilt over it.

Despite how excited you are for whatever is about to happen, you're still incredibly nervous. This is the most physically vulnerable you've ever been with another person, and the fact that you're completely bare under your skirt makes your stomach flip.

Your face must betray your emotions because Ellie momentarily softens. She pulls her hands away from your hips and cups your face, peppering kisses across your cheeks and up to your forehead, making you laugh lightly. "You alright? We can stop."

"No... please don't." Her face lights up.

"Sorry, say that again?" You roll your eyes and she chuckles. "I knew you were like this. Not so pure now, huh?"

"Guess not."

"So you admit it?"

"...Fine. Yes."

Ellie sighs in relief as if her thirst were quenched- that's what she's been wanting to hear from you forever. She could see it in the way you snuck glances at her during mass, finding your wandering, hungry eyes from across the room. She could feel it in the way your hand lingered on her a little too long to be friendly, your touch suspiciously light, like if you touched her any harder you'd start to tremor.

But now, there's no semblance of the timid person you'd been. When Ellie pulls away, your hand comes up to the back of her neck to pull her back in. You're insatiable, and Ellie fucking loves it. She tugs at the bottom of your sweater. "Pull that fucking thing off. Show me those pretty tits." Her breath becomes heavy as you oblige and become needier. "Did you know you were this easy?" She teases.

"What? I'm- I'm not." Everything she says feels designed to evoke the biggest reaction from you. She keeps you on your toes, never letting you get too comfortable. How exciting.

"So it's just for me then?" You don't answer, and it excites Ellie to know that she's right. This reaction is purely for her. Nobody else has seen you like this, and she's grateful to be the one who gets to corrupt you. It really didn't take much effort. "You're so easy to control."

Her hands drift back to your thighs, sliding under your skirt, her lips press to your jawline. Hot breath trails along your neck, down further to your collarbone. Her fingers slide over your inner thighs, sensitive skin rippling as she applies light pressure, testing how reactive you are. You twitch, unwittingly opening your legs more and giving Ellie more access. "You look good like this, though."

Ellie's fingers dig into you, grasping the flesh of your ass and moaning softly into your ear. Her thumbs are on either side of where you desperately need her, and your hips buck up into her, seeking her touch. "Knew you had a nice ass, too."

"Shut up." You mumble.

"Why would I? You like it when I say things like that, don't you? You wouldn't be this drenched if you didn't." She swipes the pad of her thumb over your clit and applies delicious pressure. You nearly cum on the spot.

Is this what you've been missing? This pleasure, this euphoria? Ellie grins at your reaction, drinking in your desperation for her like a succubus. "Aw, sensitive little pussy. Haven't you touched yourself like this before?"

You had, a few times, actually, but it never went this far, deep-rooted guilt gnashing in your stomach and ending the moment before you'd been able to finish. After admitting this, she coos at you. "Poor baby." Her tone is so condescending, but it makes you clench around the tip of her fingers.

She slides the first knuckle of two fingers past your entrance, pumping them in and out painfully slowly. "Ellie, you prick. Come on." She continues her ministrations, gently stroking your entrance, never giving you enough to feel remotely satisfied. She uses this time to take in your disheveled, sweaty appearance. Your cute tits bounce as you shift uncomfortably, waiting for Ellie to please you. A bead of sweat rolls down and she can't help but bring her mouth up to lick at it as it slides over your nipple. Her mouth attaches to you and you sigh, holding her closer by her hair. She grins up at you, making eye contact through her lashes. You can see the tip of her tongue poking out, wetting your bud as the cool air nips at you, making you all the more sensitive. Even now, Ellie still hasn't stopped her teasing below.

"Can't call me a prick then beg for me to fuck you. 's not how it works, pretty girl."

"Then what do you want?" You whine.

Ellie can feel your clit flutter and pulse as she moves. "Fuck, you're so desperate for me, aren't you? I want you to tell me how bad y' want me."

"I- I d-" You begin to protest, being cut off with a squeal as Ellie licks a sloppy stripe up your pussy, finally tasting you.

"Don't bullshit me. If I'm gonna fuck you, I needja to be a little more honest with me. I see how you look at me. You been trying to push some thoughts down, huh?"

It was so humiliating how well she could read you. Whenever her tongue came out of her mouth to take communion, your eyes would be trained on the muscle, breath hitching as she would wink at you. Without fail, you would trail your gaze up her body when Ellie walked in with a suit, her way of dressing nicely for service. Always, always, she could feel the heat radiating off your body as she pulled you closer, not taking her eyes off the pastor speaking.

Your thoughts were impure, sinful, and how embarrassing that Ellie knew. You believed you were hiding it well- obviously not.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Ellie's big hands wrap around your thighs, fingers landing on the sensitive skin near your pussy. She looks up at you and you can feel her hot breath on your clit. It takes everything in Ellie to not eat you out immediately, but your embarrassment is too tempting to pass up.

"Tell me about it. You try to fuck yourself thinkin' of me?"

"I do. I- I tried to, at least. Doesn't work."

"Why not, babe? You're so responsive right now." Her fingers find their place back at your entrance, pushing in as you speak.

"I- oh, shit-" You gasp.

Ellie grins. "Talk to me."

"My fingers aren't good enough."

"Ah," she says, "and mine are?" She knows the answer.

"So good."

Ellie likes that she's made you desperate enough that you've abandoned your pride. She enjoys the flush on your face as you shamelessly admit your secrets to her, the good-girl persona a figment of the past.

She's so busy staring up at how your face contorts in pleasure that she doesn't realize that she hasn't moved her fingers in a hot minute. The teasing is torturous for you.

"Ellie," she hears you whine, "Please!" You rut your hips against her fingers and she feels lightheaded. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Got distracted." She smirks. "I'll give you what you want now." Ellie finally moves her fingers, curling them in and out slowly. You groan again and she laughs. "Okay, okay! Sorry." Her face darkens and she bites her lip. "You want me to fuck you? Alright, I'll fuck you."

Ellie's fingers begin to pump inside you, hitting all the spots that make you jump and squirm, and you're sure the rusted heap of a car you're in is about to fall off its chassis. She's going so fast and hard that you're immediately overwhelmed and you don't know where to put your hands. In the span of a minute, they cup your face, a forearm slings over your eyes, and you throw your arms up against the window. Finally, you settle on cupping your cheeks, fingers slit open so you can peer down at Ellie's focus on you.

Her eyes haven't left your pussy since she started. She's absolutely mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, how you seem to suck her fingers back in as she tries to pull out and your body betrays how desperately you want her. Ellie's mouth is slightly agape and she can't help when her tongue flickers out to lick curiously at your clit, wanting to taste you again.

"Fu- fuck!" You yelp, bucking your hips up into her face. Ellie snorts as she watches how you squirm. You can feel something building and though you have an idea of what it is, it's building fast and slightly scaring you. "Wait, Els, hold on a second, something- ah- I think- I think I'm-"

You're nervous about how it creeps up on you so suddenly but you find there isn't time to be self-conscious about it because you cum, and you wonder why God could possibly think that doing this is a sin. How could it be a sin if it felt so right?

You don't know what sound you made or how your face looks, but by the way Ellie looks up at you, it must've been something. Her eyes flicker back down to how your clit pulses as you finish, leaking cum onto her fingers and trailing down her hand. You know what she's fucking thinking because you always do. Before you can form a sentence, she's licking up your cum like it's the best meal she's tasted.

You shudder violently. "Ellie, holy fuck, stop, I'm still sensitive! Oh m- Ellie, come on!" Only when you push her face up does she stop, giving you the cheekiest grin.

You roll your eyes and throw your head back against the car door, panting. The dull ache in your thighs is apparent when you attempt to sit, pulling your panties up and cringing at how your cum pools on them.

Ellie still hasn't said anything. You glance over at her, wondering how she feels about whatever just happened. She's looking down, grey hoodie still pulled up to her elbows, staring at the fingers she'd just fucked you with. She glances up at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across her face.

“That was hot.” Her hand rubs up and down your thigh, a kind of comfort you’d never received from her. It wasn’t unwelcome.

You don’t quite know how to feel. There are twinges of guilt gnawing at your stomach, that religious guilt creeping in. Had you done something wrong?

But at the same time, there was a warmth in Ellie’s gaze that made you feel like maybe, it was all worth it. Was it unholy? Almost definitely. But this awakening couldn’t be all bad if she kept looking at you with those soft, fond eyes.

my masterlist...

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #fem reader #moncherellie writing #ellie williams oneshot #tw religion #tw religious trauma #tw #ellie williams

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https-yeonjun · 3 months

Text

oh, baby (c.bg)

wc. 1149

genre. smut

request. trying to get pregnant w beomgyu so y'all have been having sex nonstop everytime you're ovulating

tags. husband!beomgyu x fem!reader, breeding kink, pet names (baby), implied kitchen sex, implied shower sex, unprotected sex (lol duh), impreg kink, pussy drunk beomgyu, (slight) marking, manhandling (if you turn your head to the side and squint), mommy used twice non-sexually

a/n. repost; i was thinking about this nonstop since i saw the request anon i need to kiss your brain. you sent this over almost two month ago i'm sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy <;333 thank you to @sunnylovespickles and @huenation for helping me read this and organize my thoughts

more of my work

you and beomgyu had been married for a year and a half when he finally brought up the idea of having kids with you. you were scrolling through your feed in bed one night when you stumbled upon a post from an old classmate at her baby shower. beomgyu absentmindedly responded, i bet our kids would look cuter, prompting the very serious and incredibly long overdue conversation about one day growing your little family. and after that night and some doctor’s appointments, he was determined to get you all pretty and round before the end of the year.

one thing about beomgyu is that he genuinely cannot keep his hands off of you. so on a sunday morning, when he wakes up to an empty space in the bed beside him, he searches for you all over the house before stumbling into you in the kitchen. he sees you making pancakes and can’t help but think about your kids one day running around, helping you cook, and setting the table. he wraps his hands around your waist from behind, his hard cock prodding your ass. nuzzling his head into your neck, he mumbles, good morning, baby. you hum in response, melting into his touch. he takes this as an opportunity to slyly turn off the stove. you whine his name, protesting for him to let you finish cooking. but that doesn’t stop him from pulling you towards the island and hoisting you up on the counter. he looks up at you with a smirk. you’re the only thing i wanna eat this morning, baby.

a few days later you find beomgyu sitting at his desk when you come home from the gym, he glances up at you but his eyes can’t help but stop at your chest glistening with sweat, your boobs spilling out of your tight sports bra. and of course that naturally leads him to fantasize about what your boobs would look like when you’re pregnant, so swollen and so so beautiful. going to take a shower, then we can figure dinner out. you tell him as you retreat to the bathroom. it’s not up to five minutes later when you hear the shower curtain open, your husband slides in behind you. if we’re gonna have a baby, we should start saving on our water bill, don’t you think?

but beomgyu wasn’t the only one who was entirely insatiable. some days, like today for instance, when you spend the entire work day thinking about your husband and how much you need him to fuck you, the last thing you want to see when you come home are his friends sitting around your living room. internally groaning, you wave to them while signaling to beomgyu to follow you into the bedroom.

“your friends.” you state one the two of you are in the privacy of your room.

“what about them?” he asks, his face marked with confusion. you give him a look that conveyed frustration and yearning and the realization dawns on him.

“aww,” he coos. “does someone need me?”

“please can you just tell them to go home?” you whine and without hesitation he leaves the room. you sink into the bed for what feels like an eternity until beomgyu saunters back into the room towards you.

“took you long enough.” you mumble as you pull him closer to you.

“i was gone for five minutes.” he chuckles in response.

“felt like twenty.” you reach up to kiss him passionately, your hands trailing up his torso, taking his t-shirt up with it.

“can we–” he tries to break away from this kiss. “can we slow down?”

“need you so bad.” you mumble against his lips.

“yeah?” he asks coyly.

“yeah,” your hands race to unbutton your work pants. “need you to fuck a baby in me.” beomgyu’s eyes widened. sure, you had both agreed to try for a baby but to hear you say this so explicitly just confirmed for him that his desires to start a family with you weren’t one sided. beomgyu joins you in taking off your clothes, his hands swiftly unbuttoning your shirt, nearly ripping the buttons off.

you’re laying in bed clad in nothing, with beomgyu hovering above you. his gaze falls upon you, tracing your form, as if you were the most alluring thing he’d ever seen.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes out before leaning down to kiss you. “i know i joke a lot,” he confesses between kisses. “but i want this so bad. you, us, our family. everything.”

he slips his throbbing cock between your warm folds causing you to let out a soft gasp. “me too. i want you. everything.” you parrot his words. he steadily grinds his hip against yours as he stares into your eyes and for a moment it seems like it’s only the two of you in the world.

loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down into a kiss. your hands explore the contours of his body trying to find the best way to keep him in your grasp, to make sure that this was not an eerily realistic dream and he was actually here with you, in you. “i love you.” you moan out clenching around him.

his eyes close shut and a groan erupts from his throat when he feels your walls tighten around him. “fuck, your so… so tight baby.”

beomgyu accelerates his thrusts, his movements becoming sloppier and messier by the second. your hands find themselves resting on the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. he hides his face in the crook of your neck, taking this as an opportunity to paint your skin with marks in between the sloppy kisses he was leaving.

as he inches closer to his climax, you feel his movements slow down as he fucks deeper into you. he’s trying to prolong his orgasm, trying to feel you around him for longer. “m’gonna cum, baby. gonna get you all pretty and pregnant for me. gonna make you a mommy tonight.”

his eyes clouded over as his movements became weaker and hips began to stutter. you let out a loud moan, your eyes fluttering closed when you felt him pumping his load deep inside you, filling you up with his seed.

still inside of you, beomgyu rolls over so you are laying on top of him. he caresses your hair, whispering i love yous between kisses on your forehead. you rest like that, tangled in each others’ arms, for a moment before you convince him to take a shower with you. when you actually get pregnant, you make it a routine to look at your baby bump in the mirror every morning. beomgyu sitting in front of you, tenderly caressing your round belly before pressing a loving kiss and murmuring something about you being the prettiest mommy in the world.

taglist: @atinyniki @boba-beom @dearlyjun @wiisoob @isabellah29

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#fay's works #txt smut #tomorrow x together #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader

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gojoest · 8 months

Text

non-explicit but suggestive, creampie implied, MDNI, gojo is being dramatic after he wakes up without you in bed

it smells like the sun, satoru thinks, as he wakes up to the sunlight creeping in through the blinds, hitting his face with a warm glow. his eyes are still closed, a soft smile spread on his lips elicited by the memories of last night, of you chanting his name like a little prayer as your bodies were locked together. the longer he thinks of it, the bigger his smile grows. the way your face flushed and contorted as he dived into you, the way your hands grabbed his hips to push him even deeper, the way your fingers intertwined and your foreheads pressed against each other until you both came down from your high.

*slap*

“shit”, he smacks himself across the face because his smile started evolving into little giggles, “shit”, but also because something down there, between his legs, was evolving, too, “calm down there, buddy. not now. first, we need to find our cute runaway lover who sneaked out of bed while we were sleeping still”

satoru knew you weren’t in bed the moment his consciousness awakened. he didn’t have to open his eyes to see it nor to reach his hand to your side of the bed only for it to end on the empty mattress. he knew, simply because he always holds you in his arms when in bed, even when you toss around and slip away from his embrace in the middle of the night, his hands find you and pull you back where you belong. it’s an automatic reflex of his body that doesn’t require his brain to create the action. it’s a need, to always be as close as possible to you.

it's a struggle for him to open his eyes now and actually see that you’re not there. a voice at the back of his head, a quite dramatic one at that, tells him to keep them shut until you come back so he doesn’t have to witness your shared bedroom without you in it.

but he beats the urge eventually, a big pout present on his face. why would you deprive him of the feeling of waking up next to you in the morning. what a cruel thing to do, he thinks before grabbing his phone from the nightstand. seeing the picture of you on his lockscreen quickly chases away the pout replacing it with a soft smile.

“but i want the real thing”, he purses his lips again and dials your number.

“how dare you” is the first thing he says as soon as you pick up. you can not only hear the pout in his voice from the other side of the line but almost see it on his cutely dramatic grumpy face, “how dare you sneak out and go grocery shopping without me?”

“oh, you miss me already?”, you let a chuckle out, “i am on my way back, can you hold on for 15 more minutes and not die without me, mm?”

“i can’t promise... my heartbeat is slowing down, i can feel my internal organs shutting down one by one, you have to hurry up or it will be fatal”

“you’re such a baby, satoru”

“exactly. and who leaves a baby alone at home and casually goes grocery shopping? you. you are bad-bad”

you can’t help yourself but stop in the middle of the street and start laughing heartily, “sorry, baby, it won’t happen again. but then again… how did you know i was out grocery shopping?”

“i put a gps tracker on you”

“you what?”, your eyes widen at his words. no, he can’t be this crazy, right?, you think.

“yea, it’s the dna i put inside you last night. it’s like part of me is with you, so it’s only natural that i would know where you are at any given moment”

“you know what, you’re the worst”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 1 month

Text

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.

The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

>> Still Untitled

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

Note

As a volunteer, do you have anything to say about what the OTW did to bjorn?

To begin with, I’m going to speak in generalities instead of specifics. This is for a couple of reasons. 1) I’ve been on hiatus from the OTW since August because my life got extremely complicated and volunteering wasn’t something I could continue doing right now. 2) As a result of my hiatus, I was not present for any of the events that transpired. This is simply my own opinion based on the available information, so you can feel free to disagree.

Now, as to your phrasing. You say “what the OTW did to bjorn” and I ask, “What did the OTW do to them?” From the meager information I’ve seen, all of which has been provided by bjorn themselves, they left the OTW of their own accord because they were unhappy with being talked to about their behaviour. This behaviour occurred in the OTW’s chat space which, for those of you who don’t know, is the OTW’s workspace. As a fully online organization, that platform is the equivalent of their office.

bjorn was in that shared workspace, and they set their name to include the phrase “Palestine will be free.” Later, they changed it to “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” They were told that the first phrase made some people uncomfortable but that they were allowed to continue using it. They were told the second was unacceptable and that they should stop using it. bjorn chose to continue using the second phrasing.

Why is the second phrase seen as unacceptable? A quick google took me to the Anti Defamation League’s explanation of its antisemitism. That same google also provided me with Al Jazeera’s explanation of its complicated history. As a person who is neither Israeli nor Palestinian and as someone who hasn’t spent years studying the history of the region or the complexities of the conflict there, I’m comfortable with the idea that it’s a nuanced issue that different people will see in different ways, and I have personally decided that I should probably avoid using an expression whose interpretation varies so wildly.

Here, I will digress to remind everyone that the OTW is an international volunteer organization. That means there are volunteers there from all over the world - including Israel and Palestine. As far as I’m aware, bjorn is not from that region of the world.

So we have someone using a controversial phrase in a workplace setting where there are people who are immediately affected by the current conflict. My assumption is that they were not doing this to be intentionally aggressive. While I do recognize their name, there are nearly 1000 volunteers at the OTW so I’m afraid I don’t remember this one individual. I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt here, however, and assume that they were not calling for the eradication of all Jews.

I can also, however, understand why anyone who has seen this same phrase used as a justification for terrorist attacks would have difficulty doing the same.

From what I saw in the original post, bjorn was given a warning about their behaviour and then a more formal letter when it continued. CCAP (Constructive Corrective Action Procedure) has a pretty dystopian sound to it, but it’s basically just a conversation between a manager (Chair) and an employee (volunteer) when the employee has kinda messed up a little bit and the manager wants to get them back on track. If the CCAP goes well, then the volunteer is back in good standing and the situation can be put behind them. It’s only if the volunteer and their Chair are unable to get things back on track that the volunteer will be asked to leave the Org. As far as I know, that’s only happened a handful of times (but I’m no expert, and I’m still on hiatus so I can’t go and try to look things up)

bjorn apparently chose option #3, which is to leave the OTW rather than go through that process. That’s a perfectly fine decision to make, and I’m sure they’re not the first volunteer to do so. It was their choice, though. The OTW didn’t kick them out. The OTW didn’t force them out. The OTW told them “this is inappropriate behaviour in an international workplace setting,” and bjorn decided to leave rather than change that behaviour.

I have nothing against bjorn, and I hope their post-OTW life is a good one. However, I've seen posts that have been using bjorn's situation as a way to claim the OTW is a “Zionist organization.” I would like to remind everyone that the OTW is an organization dedicated to the preservation of fanworks. What role do people expect the OTW to take in an international negotiation between Israel and Palestine? How many international policy volunteers do people think they have, and which committee do people think they belong to? Technical Support? Communications?

I’m trending towards sarcasm here but it’s only because I can’t quite believe that there really are people who seem to believe that the OTW - again a fanwork preservation organization - is attempting to do anything at all with regards to an international conflict.

If anyone out there hates the OTW, I encourage them to avoid OTW’s various projects and to decline the biannual opportunities to donate, but please don't generate or share conspiracy theories. There are more than enough of them going around already.

#long post

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captainjonnitkessler · 4 months

Note

I understand if you want to stay out of it but I’m curious as to you’re thoughts on this discourse

https://www.tumblr.com/dappercat123/737173649266737152/your-arguments-sum-to-in-my-perfect-world-there

Anon, I'm going to be entirely honest with you. I have been waiting for an excuse to put my thoughts about this down. Forewarning that this is going to be long and take a dim view of organized religion.

TL;DR: I think everyone in that thread is maliciously misinterpreting evilsoup's point, which is basically that they think Gene Roddenberry was right about what a post-utopian society would look like re: religion. And you can agree or disagree about whether a post-religious utopia is likely or desirable, but to say that anyone who thinks it is is actively calling for and encouraging genocide is a gross misuse of the term (especially coming from at least one person that I'm pretty sure is currently denying an actively ongoing actual fucking genocide).

@evilsoup can correct me if I'm misinterpreting their points, but as far as I see it there are two main points being made:

A) In a perfect utopia with absolutely no source of oppression, marginalization, or disparity, religion would naturally whither away with no outside pressure being applied.

B) This would be a good or at least a neutral thing.

As far as A) goes - a lot of the responses evilsoup got were basically "well *I* would never choose to be nonreligious, so therefore the only way to create that world would be by force, and therefore you are calling for literal genocide". But aside from the fact that evilsoup was very, very clear that they thought this would be a *natural* event and that trying to force people to be nonreligious would be evil - we're not talking about (general) you. You can be as religious as you want but you don't get to make that choice for your grandkids, or your great-great-great grandkids, or your great-great-great-great-great-etc. grandkids. Just because religion is an integral part of your identity doesn't mean it's something you can pass down, and if you're not comfortable with the idea that your kids might choose to leave your religion, you shouldn't have kids.

I personally don't foresee religion disappearing entirely, but it is pretty consistent that as a country becomes happier, healthier, and wealthier, it also becomes less religious. Religiosity is inversely correlated with progressive values. And the more democratic and secular a nation is, the less powerful religious authorities become - In the 1600s blasphemy and atheism were punishable by death* in Massachusetts and today I can call the Pope a cunt to his face** on Twitter with no repercussions whatsoever. Political secularism is an absolute necessity for true democracy and it necessitates removing power from religious authorities, which has and will likely continue to lead to a decline in religiosity - not just a decline in how many people identify as religious, but also a decline in how religious the remaining people are.

*Blasphemy laws and death penalties for blasphemers/apostates are still VERY much a thing in many places. It's hard to see a path where those places become more democratic but don't become more secular and repeal those laws.

**Well, to the face of whoever runs his Twitter account, but the point remains.

I also believe that many religious communities have been held together for so long via coercion - either internal coercion like blasphemy and apostasy laws, shunning, and threats of hell or other supernatural punishment, or external coercion like oppression from the majority religious group or ethnic cleansings. In a perfect utopia, neither form of coercion would exist and I don't think it's crazy to think that religiosity would drop severely and become a much less important part of people's identities, in the way I think the queer community would not exist in a world where queerphobia didn't exist.

ANYWAY, all this is actually kind of moot. It could happen, it could not, nobody is calling for it to be forced so we'll just have to wait and see. The real point of disagreement is on B).

I'm gonna be honest - I think a lot of the responders are rank hypocrites and are really hung up on the idea of cultural purity, which is something I'm wildly uncomfortable with.

First of all, the idea that a deeply-held religious belief could be diluted until it's just a cultural thing that nobody really remembers the origins of isn't some evil mastermind plot evilsoup is trying to concoct, it's just how cultures work. There's tons of stuff about American culture that are vaguely rooted in what were once deeply-held beliefs and are now entertainment. Halloween is rooted in sacred tradition and now it's a day to dress up and get candy. Christmas is one of the most sacred holidays in Christianity but nobody bats an eye if a non-Christian puts up some lights or decorates a tree just because it's fun. I have no doubt that every culture on Earth has traditions that used to be deeply sacred but are now just fun family traditions. People in Japan use Christian symbology as an "exotic, mythical" aesthetic the exact same way people in the West use Eastern symbology. And if you're okay with it happening to Christianity, why wouldn't you be okay with it happening to any other religion in the absence of oppression?

And there's the idea that if a culture fails to get passed down *exactly* as it is now, it's a terrible loss and the result of malicious outside influence. But . . . cultures change over time. No culture is the same now as it was two or five or eight hundred years ago and I don't believe that change is inherently loss. The things that are sacred to you may or may not be sacred to the people of your culture in the future. That's just the way things work, and I don't think it's inherently good or bad.

And finally, people keep accusing evilsoup of "just wanting everyone to assimilate to your culture", but it absolutely does not follow that a lack of religion means a lack of diversity. Different nonreligious cultures are every bit as capable of being diverse as different religious cultures, so it's weird to insist that evilsoup wants there to only be one culture when they never said anything to indicate that.

#me still nursing the burn i got from touching the Discourse Stove last week: well surely it's not still hot #time to hit post and then log off for the night #atheism #skepticism umbrella

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ceilidho · 5 months

Note

coworker soap who frames the fleshlight thing as a joke but with a creepy undercurrent that you cant understand why you know it isnt a joke but you also dont wanna rock the boat so you dont tell hr bc johnny the ex-military man is a model employee otherwise and you cant help but feel hot shame run down ur spine when he says it that you are, at least a little, flattered by it bc shit dude hes HOT. coworker soap who just. doesnt bring it up again. its just boiling rhe frog. he says weird, borderline creepy shit that could be passed off as "guy talk" in any other situation (regardless of readers gender). He follows you around like a puppy and where it used to be normal for you, you feel a little creeped out now but. everyone. already refers to you as a duo. itd be weird if you stopped for no reason? right?

i don't know what broke in my mind long ago that this is like, the weirdly hottest thing in the world to me but im genuinely twitching over it right now.

model employee Johnny, knows the handbook inside and out, walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude. management loves him because his sales are also record high (i mean, it makes sense - i wouldn't be able to say no if he was helping me with a purchase and tried to upsell me). he's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some "jobs for vets" program that they just rolled out (idk i'm making this up). and the guy can stack things on a shelf like no one's business lmao like MILITARY precision/organization.

all your coworkers love him and genuinely like fist pump whenever they get put on the schedule with him because he's a blast to work with, and some of your coworkers are actually incredibly jealous that he just seems to follow you around everywhere. hangs off your every word. always seems to just pop out from around the corner whenever you're having trouble reaching something on a shelf.

but he says weird, uncomfortable shit to you sometimes. way over the line. you don't even know what to say at first when Johnny jokingly tells you that he has a fleshlight at home that he's named after you, just laughs and then stares at you for a second. and you like, give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. until something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, clapping you on the arm and wandering off back to the men's apparel section.

he does a lot of strange shit actually. maybe insists on walking you to your car when the two of you are on the closing shift and it's well into the evening. laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. asks if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. begs management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch.

and you can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. he's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet. they defend him viciously. and the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you standing there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. you'll just have to teach him better.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap

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acriminalmind · 6 months

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Songs From the Wood

Forest Dweller Wanda Maximoff x GN Reader

Summary: For years tourists who enter the mysterious woods around the town you grew up in are never to be seen again. What happened to them remains a mystery.

After years you return to the place you rather forget if it wasn’t for your parents still living there.

A party thrown by your former classmates ends up with you fighting for your life and getting a new one you can’t return from.

Warnings: ⚠️ 18+, minors DNI, dark themes, shitty and immature people, consequences of alcohol, spiked drink, use of weapons like knives, swords, and axes, very graphic images (blood, horrible injuries, torture, violent and gruesome deaths), use of strong language, allusions to cannibalism, kidnapping (taking someone without their permission), manipulation (kinda gaslighting), Stockholm Syndrome (rational thinking has gone out the window), smut (later in the story) (mention of penetration, but not specified with what), human sacrifices, loyalty tests, marriage, fluff, angst, some deja vu moments, slighty dark Wanda at times.

Please don’t report. You’ve been warned

AN: Sorry for the long wait. My new job takes me a lot of time and energy. I hope to find time to write during my vacations and weekends. I’m not out of ideas yet.

AN: In this story, Wanda is the 20-year-old sister of Pietro, who is a 10-year-old boy.

Word count: 14213 (Damn)

Enjoy! And let me know what you think.

On a warm summer evening, you received an invitation to a party organized by some former high school classmates. Initially, you had not planned on going because your high school days were not the most fun period in your life and you certainly would not be mourning never having to see your former classmates, who pretended you were invisible most of the time and only talked to you when they needed something from you, ever again. You had left the village where you had grown up shortly after the last day of high school. A university on the other side of the country had offered you a scholarship, which of course you had accepted. Five years later, you had graduated with flying colors and had been offered a well-paying job at the company where you had been an intern for the last two years of your education.

Despite having no reason or desire to go to a party so far from what you now considered home you still replied that you would attend. Your parents still live in that village and you hadn't visited them in too long, so you would visit them before you went to the party. You opened your digital calendar and put in the date of the party. Fortunately, you had just gotten a raise so the plane ticket was easily paid for. You had even granted yourself a seat in first class.

Turning off your phone you put it face down on your desk and refocused on what you were doing, writing a smutty fanfic about your favorite female heroine.

"She dropped to her knees and took their hard member in her hands. In her small hands, their cock seemed even bigger than it already was. Opening her mouth she leaned forward and took..."

Two weeks had passed and you were about to leave for the airport. A suitcase and backpack stood neatly packed next to you on the pavement as you locked your front door. You had asked your neighbor to watch your house during the time you were gone, which would not be more than 3 days if everything went right. The cab you had ordered pulled up into the driveway. After the driver had helped you with your luggage the both of you took your seats and drove off. The ride took no longer than half an hour due to the lack of traffic. After you paid the driver and tipped, you walked into the large building in front of you. The check-in went as it always did. You were happy to finally get on the plane and be seated. Next to you sat an older man who had fallen asleep not soon after takeoff. After it was announced that passengers could unbuckle their seat belts you grabbed your laptop from your bag and started working on an assignment for work. The hours flew by, no pun intended.

Once off the plane you stretched and walked to the waiting area where your parents were already waiting for you with welcoming smiles on their faces. You gave them both a big hug before your father grabbed your stuff from you and started walking with them to the car even though you told him he didn't have to do that for you and that you could do it yourself, but he was stubborn and ignored you. Your mother talked to you during the car ride about what was happening in the village. Pretty little happened in the small community where almost everyone knew each other. Except for one thing. Over the past few years, several people went missing in the woods surrounding the village and were never found. Those who went missing were mostly tourists who had probably wandered off the marked hiking trails, but it was still strange and slightly worrisome. It also wasn’t good for business as word about the woods spread fast and as a consequence, the village was being avoided by many tourists who would normally fill up the streets and spend a good amount of money in the local shops. Quite an amount of shops had to close their doors due to a lack of customers and lack of income. The shopping district was now filled with lots of empty buildings holding a gloomy atmosphere.

Your mother mentioned that someone had been reported missing again, but it was a villager this time. She mentioned the name and you recognized it immediately. It was the name of a former classmate of yours from high school. Apparently, someone had dared him to go into the woods and go off the path to see if the stories were true and that there was indeed a monster in the woods that kidnaps and eats anyone who goes off the path. It was funny until he hadn't returned after an hour and he didn't answer his cell phone either. Authorities were called in to search, but all they found was a large pool of blood with his phone lying in it. To this day, he has not been found adding another name to the growing list of missing people who fell victim to the woods.

The date of his disappearance was a week before you got the invitation to the party. You thought it was odd that they were throwing a party right now when a fellow villager was missing, but your mother said they were already planning the party before the man went missing and his parents insisted that the party should just be held as planned.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you made sure to get your luggage out of the car before your father could. You followed your mother to the front door which she unlocked to let you in. Everything looked exactly the same as the last time you visited your parents. The house was spacious but still gave off a cozy feeling. Several pictures of you and your parents hung on the walls. It was like a timeline of your life. It puts a small smile on your face. Your mother told you to take your things to the guest room, which was your old bedroom, while she would prepare dinner. As confirmation that you had heard her, you nodded to her before walking upstairs. The second room on the right side of the hall was yours. It had its own mini bathroom and walk-in closet. You put your things in the corner of the room and plopped down on the bed to rest your eyes for a while.

Stepping out of your father's car you had borrowed to drive to the party you could already hear the loud music and people singing along from the parking lot. The party was fully going. Calmly you walked toward the entrance, breathing in the fresh air one last time before entering the smelly and crowded space. You made your way towards the bar where you ordered a diet coke, not wanting to get too drunk this early in the evening, especially while being surrounded by people you hadn't seen for years and wouldn’t fully trust with your well-being if you were drunk.

Looking around you, you took in the different faces of the people dancing on the dancefloor. You recognized most of them, they were just a bit more mature since you last saw them, but looking more mature didn't stop them from acting immature as you saw a group of men, who were part of the football team back in the day, act like monkeys on speed. Rolling your eyes at the sight you moved your eyesight to a couple of young women standing in the corner giggling about something. The blonde woman standing in the middle of the group took your breath away. It was your secret school crush and she looked even more beautiful than you remembered. The ring on her finger stopped you from approaching, not that you knew what you would have said to her if you would have. You didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you had already done in school.

For a while, you sat in silence sipping on your drink at the bar, watching the people around you like you also did as a teenager when you sat alone at lunch. When you were done with the one coke you had ordered that night you headed towards the exit, wanting to call it a night, but on your way, you were pulled onto the dancefloor by an unknown woman who started to dance around you. "Danzz with meeee!" she yelled barely hearable due to the loud music. Her slurred words and strong smell told you that she was highly intoxicated, but like the decent person you are you started awkwardly dancing with her. You didn't want anyone with bad intentions to get their hands on her as long as she was under the influence of alcohol and could be easily manipulated into doing regrettable things. After what felt like an hour of dancing with the woman you felt yourself getting tired. The woman had in the meantime sobered up a little and had found the people she came with. She gave you a quick peck on your cheek and thanked you for keeping her company after apologizing for bothering you in her drunken state. The action made you blush. This didn't go unnoticed as a small group of people made their way to you while cheering at you and making kissing sounds. One of the broad men threw his arm over your shoulder while ruffling your hair with his free hand. "Look at our favorite nerd getting some action!" Laughter filled your ears. One of the others yelled that it was probably the furthest you've ever gotten with a girl. The people now surrounding you were all people who had made your life in school unnecessarily difficult and less enjoyable. You awkwardly laughed at the stupid jokes that were being made about you in the hope that soon they would get bored of themselves and would leave you alone so you could leave this place as fast as you could to never see anyone of them again.

Half an hour later you were still at the party you had badly wanted to leave a while ago, but the strong arm on your shoulder and your shyness preventing you from speaking up had made you stay where you were. One of the women pushed a drink into your hand after you had declined the offer, guess no isn't an answer she takes. The jokes about you had stopped and the topic of conversation had changed to the missing people cases that held a tight grip on the local community. One of the women, who you remembered to be the daughter of the sheriff told about what she had heard from a whispered conversation between her father and the mayor that she had eavesdropped on four days ago. Apparently, investigators had found evidence that points to a new-found theory of mystery people inhabiting the woods. Silently sipping on your drink you listened to the woman and all the things she had heard. Even though the whole matter wasn't of interest to you, the thought of possibly dangerous people living in the woods close to your parent's house, made you more than uncomfortable. The thought of convincing your parents to temporarily live with you while searching for a new place for them far away from where they lived now crossed your mind. You were pulled out of your thoughts by someone patting your shoulder to get your attention. "Come on, let's see for ourselves," you heard someone say. You wanted to pull yourself away from the group who were now walking you to the back exit leading to the mysterious woods, but you failed. It felt like you had lost control over your body. Looking down at the empty red cup in your hand you cursed to yourself. You hadn't even noticed you had drunk the whole thing. The girl who gave it to you held your hand, pulling you with her toward the edge where the trees met the main road. You wanted to say no, but no sound came out of your mouth. Before you could register it you had been pulled into the darkness, the only sound you could hear was the drunken laughter of the people around you and the breaking of the twigs underneath your stumbling feet. While you were pulled further into the woods, even getting off the designated hiking trails, multiple pairs of eyes were watching your every move from behind the trees waiting to strike.

At hearing a weird sound behind you you turned your head to see where it came from. You could have sworn you saw a silhouette standing next to one of the many trees surrounding you, but before you could get a closer look the girl still holding your hand pulled your attention to her. She pulled you into a deep and unwanted kiss. After she had ended the kiss she complimented you for how good of a kisser you were, saying she hadn't expected that from you. Before you could react to her insulting expectation she had passed out on the floor from the combination of alcohol, drugs, and tiredness with you following her not close behind.

The woods became now completely silent.

You woke up when the first rays of the sun showed through the trees. Your head was pounding as a result of last night's activities. Looking around you noticed that you were the only one there. There was no sign of anybody else. Those fuckers had abandoned you in the middle of god knows where. Curse words left your mouth as you tried to stand up from the cold ground while having to deal with a major hangover. Once on your feet, you took another look around hoping to spot an indication as to where in the woods you were exactly, but as far as you could see you only saw trees and bushes. Looking at the place of the sun in the greyish-colored sky you decided to head east where the sun had come up some time ago. It was cold and damp and the thin shirt you had on did nothing to keep you warm. Hugging yourself you tried to keep the little body warmth you had left with you. Every time you exhaled a cloud of fog left your mouth. Without you realizing it you had started to chatter your teeth.

After what felt like hours of walking you collapsed to the ground. Your feet were dying beneath you as you weren't used to walking for so long and underneath these conditions. Leaning against a huge tree you tried to catch your breath and talk yourself into getting up again and continuing walking. You didn't even know whether you were going in the right direction, but you couldn't just stay in one place with these cold temperatures and not knowing whether someone was looking for you. Just now you realized how far you were dragged into the woods. The night before it had felt like just a few meters.

When you had found the strength you needed to get back up you took a deep breath and continued your journey toward your hopeful escape from the dense woods and to not be another name on the missing persons list who fell victim to it.

Every step you set hurts. It felt like your feet were about to fall off any second now. The frightening thought of never being able to see your parents again and leaving them in uncertainty about your well-being made you pull through.

To distract yourself from the pain you were in and keep up the spirit you started silently singing one of your favorite songs.

"Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you ..."

As you started to sing the song you were singing for the past half an hour for the ninth time you were disrupted by a high-pitched scream coming not far away from you. Holding your breath while standing deadly still, you looked around searching for the source of the scream while wondering if it came from someone who needed your help and in exchange could help you or if it came from someone who you should run from. Out of nowhere one of the guys who were with you last night came storming out of the bushes on the right of you while screaming for his life. He was covered in blood and you were sure that you saw the bone of his right arm sticking out.

You stared wide-eyed at the panicked man en wondered what had happened to him to put him in a state like he was. Another noise coming from the bushes grabbed your attention. As fast as you could you dove behind a tree to hide from whatever was gonna come out of it. Carefully you peeked your head around the edge to see what was gonna happen next. Not even five seconds after you had taken your hiding spot behind the tree two big figures with deer fur as clothes and animal skulls covering their faces appeared from the bushes. They both had a handmade axe in their hand which was dripping with blood. One of them let out some sort of battle cry before the both of them sprinted behind the wounded man. You watched fearfully as they rapidly reduced the distance between themselves and their prey. One of the figures threw his axe toward the man which ended up drilled in between his shoulder blades and throwing him face first on the ground. He let out cries of pain while trying to crawl away, but his suffering came to an abrupt end when the other figure who still had his axe harshly brought it down into his skull splitting it open and ending his life. Blood and brain tissue was splattered around the lifeless body. You slapped your hand over your mouth to prevent any sound from coming out and ducked back behind the wood. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't do that because they would hear you. You wanted to run, but you couldn't do that because they would come after you and do god knows what to you.

Never in your life had you felt this kind of fear.

You sat quiet and motionless behind the tree in the hope the two figures wouldn't see or hear you and would soon walk away so you could make a run for it. The only thing you could hear was the sound of flesh being cut. It was horrific and made your stomach turn.

When you thought it couldn't get any worse a man and a woman who you recognized as people from the group you were with last night appeared to the left of you, both of them also covered in blood. The man held a little silver-haired boy who looked to be around the age of 10 in his arms while keeping a dull knife to his throat. While the two hadn't noticed your presence, the boy did and he looked you right in the eyes with his tear-filled ones. His small body was trembling in fear. You noticed that just like the two large creatures he was wearing deer fur. He is probably part of the same group as them. He sniffled as a lonely tear dripped down his cheek. Suddenly the man who held the boy hostage started to scream at the two people to not move or else he would kill the kid. Your eyes widened at hearing that threat. The knife was pushed closer against his skin, now drawing blood. Cries of pain and fear left his mouth. The devastating sound pulled on your heartstrings. You wanted to help the boy. You couldn't leave him to his own devices even if the chances of you getting hurt in the process of saving him were high. The girl wasn't an obstacle as she was standing on the other side of the man watching it all go down with fear in her eyes. When the two people started to scream back in some unknown language the man pulled his knife away from the boy's neck, pointing it in front of him in defense. This was your chance. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down a little you got into a running position before sprinting from behind your hiding place toward the boy.

A red-headed woman was watching it all unfold from behind a tree. No one had noticed her presence yet and she wished it to stay that way.

It felt like everything went into slow motion the moment you had a grip on his arm. Your unexpected appearance surprised the man holding him captive, resulting in him losing the tight grip he had on the boy. This gave you the chance to pull him away and motion for him to make a run for it. He looked at you with a grateful look before running off as fast as he could on his short legs. As you watched him run with a satisfied smile on your face you felt a sharp pain pierce through your skin. Looking at your waist you saw a knife being pulled out of it. The same knife that was against the boy's neck just a minute ago. Blood started to sipe through your shirt. While grabbing at the wound you looked with a panicked look behind you, locking eyes on the man who just brutally stabbed you. He looked down at the in your blood-covered knife in his trembling hand and then looked back at you. His eyes held a gaze of confusion but it soon turned into anger. “You fucking asshole,” he whispered angrily. As you fell to the ground you could hear the young boy scream in anguish. Your eyes became heavy as more blood started to gush out of your body. As you stared up into the sky waiting for the inevitable the man and woman who had captured the boy were being slaughtered at your feet by the forest people. Their screams didn't reach your ears as they could only focus on the slow beats of your own heart. Before your eyes closed you were met with a pair of beautiful emerald-colored eyes that held a soft gaze in them as they looked down at you.

Every morning before sunrise Wanda would take a walk through the woods surrounding her home. On bare feet, she wandered through the area she had come to know like the back of her hand. Her hands gracefully moved through the high grass, like birds in the sky. She would close her eyes to take in the sounds of nature better. It was like the woods sang a song just for her. It brought a smile to her face.

When she arrived at the heart of the woods she was met with a sight she hadn't seen before. A group of strangers lay sleeping on the ground. She remembered her father's warning words about strangers and that she was not to be near them by herself, but curiosity got the best of her, so she hid behind a tree at a safe distance from the group and observed the scene with curious eyes.

Before the sun started to come up all but one started to stir awake. Instead of waking them up, they whispered something to each other before running off laughing, but what they didn't know was that they were heading to a place where strangers from the outside world weren't wanted and would probably be their demise.

When the group had left her sight she averted it back to the lone stranger who was still sleeping peacefully. She wanted to take a closer look, but she stopped herself from doing so instead she stayed safely hidden behind the big tree and kept watching the stranger making sure nothing bad happened to them. Wanda always had a caring nature, always wanting to make sure the people in her community were okay. However, the person laying on the ground wasn't someone from her community. She didn’t know them. They were a stranger. Someone her father warned her about numerous times, telling her they were bad people who destroyed good things for selfish reasons and had no respect for nature, something that is very important for her people. She had seen the damage these strangers left behind with her own eyes. Still, she didn't want to leave this one all alone. She always tended to see the good in people and the person who was left behind hadn't given her any reason yet to think otherwise, unlike the people who had left them behind showing the rotten side of humanity.

As the sun started to appear from behind the trees she saw that the person started to stir awake. She watched every move they made. From them looking with utter confusion around them after waking up all alone in the middle of the woods, to them standing up while muttering unfamiliar words. As Wanda took in their appearance now that she was able to see them better from where she was standing she felt a fluttering feeling in her stomach. They were good-looking. The clothes they were wearing were strange though. Not practical for a life in the woods at all. She couldn't admire them long though as the stranger started to make their departure.

When the stranger had left she decided to head back home herself before her father would start worrying about her and sent out a search team. She also didn't want to make her little brother wait as she had agreed to spend some time with him. The last time she had made him wait he decided to go look for her all by himself in the big and treacherous forest, ending up with a gash on his knee from falling down a rocky path. And with these strangers wandering around she didn't want him to leave home by himself. Who knows what they would do to him if they got their hands on him? The single thought of something happening to him frightened her. She would never forgive herself.

Wanda held her little brother tight against her body, afraid that if she let go something bad would happen to him. Tears streamed down her face, dripping on top of Pietro's little head. She had watched the whole scene go down, from the moment those two evil outsiders grabbed her brother, who was innocently wandering around the woods while picking flowers, till the moment that the lone stranger she had been watching that morning saved him and as a result got stabbed themselves.

She felt Pietro calm down in her arms, which made her calm down a little too. He is alive and safe in her arms. She looked up and saw how her brother's captors were slaughtered by two of her father's hunting men. They screamed in agony as their bodies were mutilated until their lives had left their bodies. She had watched with zero remorse. Her sight was soon pulled to the lone stranger's motionless body that lay in a small pool of their blood. The person that saved her little brother from their people. She felt warm and grateful. When the hunters moved away from the two piles of flesh and made their way toward the unconscious stranger with their axes in their hands, ready to butcher them too, Wanda abruptly ordered them to a halt. As the daughter of their leader, she had some kind of power. They halted their movements, lowered their weapons, and looked at her through their masks, waiting for their next orders. Wanda looked down at her brother who was now looking up at her with his big friendly eyes which both still held some unshed tears, then returned her sight back to the lone stranger. She thought it over for a second before looking up at the hunters and saying in their language, "Strangers from outside the woods are not welcome in our home because of their evil natures and disrespectful behavior towards our woods, but I believe this one is different. I witnessed early this morning how the people who were with them mercilessly abandoned them in the middle of these dangerous woods. We just saw how they saved Pietro, son of Django Maximoff our celebrated leader, and my father, from their own kind and in return got stabbed. They need help, which our healers can give. We owe that to them." The two hunters grumbled something while shaking their heads. "Don't worry about my father. This is my decision. All consequences are on me. I give you my word." The two hunters looked at each other before nodding at Wanda. One of them ripped off a piece of their fur clothing and used it to tie off your open wound before he carefully pulled you off the cold ground and started walking in the direction of their home, followed directly by the other hunter, Wanda, and Pietro.

Upon their arrival at the gates of the hidden village, one of the gatekeepers blew on a horn to announce their return before letting them in. They were greeted by Django, his wife Marya, his right-hand man Erik and a handful of guards. Pietro ran like a speedster to his mother who brought him in a loving hug. Wanda made her way over to her father who was already waiting for her with open arms. She almost forgot about what happened just a while ago until she hears her father say, "Who's the stranger you brought with you?" Wanda pulled away from the hug to look her father in the eyes before she would answer him. "You know how I think about outsiders, Wanda. What is one of them doing in our home?" Wanda took a deep breath before she calmly tried to explain the situation to her father and those around them who were also listening. "This morning when I was on my morning walk and arrived at the open spot in the middle of our woods I walked upon a group of them sleeping on the ground." She noticed her father's eyes widen and mouth open ready to tell her once again that she isn't allowed to come near outsiders alone, but before he could Wanda continued, "Don't worry, Dad. I stayed at a safe distance and blended in with nature so they wouldn't notice me. Like you taught me as a kid." Her dad smiled a little at the memories of him and his daughter spending time in the woods while he taught her the ways of nature and how to take good care of it. "I watched them for a while until all of the group but one woke up. They then left, leaving the one still asleep all alone in the middle of the woods. Sometime later they woke up looking confused, scared, and angry. Not long after they had left I decided to walk back home. I had promised Pietro to spend some time with him and I didn't want him to wander alone through the woods with outsiders lurking around..." Wanda stopped to take a breath, knowing what she was about to say next would upset her parents. "Next thing I knew I heard Pietro scream. I ran as fast as I could towards the direction it came from. When I arrived I saw how two of the outsiders I saw that morning held Pietro hostage while holding a knife to his throat. They were yelling at two of your hunters. I was so afraid they were gonna hurt Pietro, but out of nowhere the lone stranger who got left behind sprinted from behind a tree and rescued Pietro. They got stabbed after. I know our rules and how our people think about outsiders, but I think this one is different. They at least deserve to be helped by our healer as a thank-you for saving Pietro. My little brother. Your son and successor." It became quiet. For a few minutes, no one said a word. Django stared at his daughter with an unknown look. He then looked to Pietro, who was still being held by his mother. "Is it true, little warrior? Did the lone stranger save you from those barbarians from the outside world?" Pietro nodded his head. One of the two hunters then spoke up and confirmed the part about the lone stranger saving Pietro. Django walked up to the hunter who still held your motionless body in his arms. He looked at your face, then at your wound, which was in high need of treatment. He looked back at his wife who nodded at him, he then looked to his daughter who was already looking at him with hopeful eyes. "If we treat them we can't just let them go back to the outside world. They will know too much about our civilization. It will bring our community at risk. I can't let that happen, Princess." Wanda understood her father's reasoning. The outsiders had hurt her community more than enough. One of her uncles fell victim to them. He died three years ago in a one-sided fight he got into with a group of outsiders he came across at the edge of the woods when he was taking an evening walk. Her father was never the same after finding his brother's beaten and lifeless body. Later he found out that a member of their community, who secretly had started seeing an outsider, had told her about the village in the woods. Her brother and his friends went to the woods that fatal night to look for these so-called forest people and bumped into Clint, her uncle. He refused to lead them to the village and ended up choking in his own blood after a severe beating. The villager who had given up their secret existence had been sentenced to death a day later after they had tracked him down. Wanda could still recall like it was yesterday how he begged for mercy as he was about to be beheaded by her father. The sound of his sword cutting through his neck had given her the chills. His head was after that placed on a stake outside the gates as a warning, so no one would ever make the same mistake as him. In the years after that, the people of the woods secluded themselves even more from the outside world. No trips to the edge of the woods were made again.

"They won't tell anyone about us, Dad," Wanda says confidentially. "Not when we keep them here." Django looks at his daughter with confusion, "What do you mean by keeping them here? You mean like a prisoner in the caves or that we keep their body here after ending their life?" Wanda shakes her head at that. "No. I mean that they become one of us. It may take some time for them to adjust to their new home, but I will personally guide them into accepting their new life if you give them the chance. It happened before, remember? We've accepted an outsider before and that went positively. I know that was a long time ago and it happened before that horrendous evening, but I have fate this lone stranger will be a good addition to our community." Django shakes his head with a sigh, but before he can speak up one of his most trusted huntingmen steps forward, Buchanan, who was the former outsider Wanda spoke of. He was now happily married to his wife Natalie and has two beautiful children, a boy and a girl. Ten years ago he had ended up lost in the woods after his car broke down on the road that went through it. Due to no service on his phone, he started walking, hoping to find a nearby gas station of some kind of civilization that could help him fix his car. He ended up walking further into the woods. After seven days of wandering around the woods without food or drinkable water, he passed out. Django and two of his men had found him on a hunting trip. They brought him back to their home and the rest was history. "With all due respect, sir. I stand with your daughter, Wanda, on this matter. I understand your worries about the possible consequences and dangers it could bring us and our loved ones" he said while looking back at his wife Natalie, "but not every outsider is like those who ended your brother's life. I am an example of that. The lone stranger can also be an example. In my eyes, they have already proven they are different by saving your son's life while risking their own. I volunteer to help them, together with Wanda, with adjusting themselves to their new life. If you agree at letting them stay, of course." "I volunteer too, sir," Natalie says while stepping forward to stand next to her husband. Wanda smiled at hearing her best friends supporting her. Marya then steps forward and places a hand on her husband's shoulders. He looks at her. She doesn't even have to say anything for him to know what she thinks. He thinks everything through before giving her a small smile while nodding his head. He turns back to look at his daughter with his mind made up. “Okay”, He says. “I will give them a month to adjust. If by then they have, they can stay with us. If not...” He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for Wanda to know what will happen then. She nods her head in acceptance. “Thank you, Father.”

Django orders the man who is still holding you in his arms to bring you to the healer so she can patch you up. Wanda follows them together with Natalie and Buchanan.

You are placed on a wooden bed with animal fur covering it. The village healer, Stephany Strange, walks towards you with a serious face. She tells Wanda, Natalie, and Buchanan to step back and give her space to do what she does best. She removes all the clothing that is covering your knife wound and starts her treatment.

After thoroughly cleaning your wound she grabs a jar from the shelf behind her. The content of it she smears on your irritated wound. You flinch in your unconscious state, but soon your body relaxes as the cream is doing its magic. Wanda watches everything with careful eyes. Stephany mumbles some ancient spells while moving her hands in patterns above your wound. When she's done she wipes the remnants of the cream off of your waist and as if a miracle just happened the wound had magically disappeared. The only indicator of you ever being stabbed there was a decent-sized scar where the knife had been.

Stephany looks up at Wanda and says, "They're healed and should wake up within the day. Make sure they rest well and drink enough water," before turning around and elegantly walking out of the room. Wanda takes a seat next to the bed. She inspects the scar and amazes herself with the healer's work. No one knows how she does it. Every time someone asks her about it they get a different answer. According to rumors, Stephany Strange is an ancient sorceress with great magical power. Whether it's true, no one knows. Whoever she is, she is well respected and beloved in the village. From the moment she arrived at the gates casually asking for a place to shelter from the rain all those years ago, she made herself useful in the community. Before her arrival, many villagers had severe health problems, causing a lot of them to die. Stephany changed that. Instead of staying only temporarily until the storm had passed she never left and became their official healer.

Wanda looked outside the window at the darkening sky. Nighttime had come. The full moon was placed in the middle of the darkness, surrounded by thousands of stars. Her mind went to her father's words. If you hadn't accepted your new life by the next full moon, you would end up as a sacrificial meal. She grabbed one of your hands in her own. She barely knew you, but she felt a certain way about you. Maybe it was because you saved her little brother. Maybe it was because you had a certain aura around you. An aura different from the other outsiders she came across from. Natalie placed a reassuring hand on top of Wanda's shoulder, knowing exactly how she felt. She had felt the exact same way when she first laid eyes on Buchanan. She was gonna support her friend in every way possible like she did with her.

While unconscious, you were haunted by terrible nightmares. You were running for your life through the dark woods while clutching your stomach trying to keep your intestines from falling out. How you were able to keep on your feet in this state was beyond you. You could faintly hear the rushed footsteps of your attackers running after you. They were screaming in an unknown language. It sounded like battle cries. You did not dare look back or reduce speed. This was a life and death situation and you weren't gonna die because you were tired of running or were curious as to how far those savages were. You were not gonna end up like one of those dumb characters in a horror movie, even though it felt like you were in one yourself. In the state you were in you didn't notice the branch sticking out of the ground until your tripped over it and fell face-first on the harsh ground. You grunted in pain as your whole body was shaking. Your vision became more blurred as you desperately tried to crawl forward with the tiny bit of energy you had still left due to adrenaline rushing through your body. You didn't get far. When two big hands grabbed you by your shoulders you knew that this meant your demise. You were roughly turned onto your back. Three large creatures stood bowed over you. They had animal skulls covering their faces and wore animal fur as clothes. You wanted to scream, but no sound came out of your mouth. One of them suddenly moved their hands to your stomach and pulled your intestines out you had desperately tried to keep inside. The other two then raised their axes and started slashing into you. At first, you were in the most horrendous pain you could imagine until you didn't feel anything anymore. You stared at the birds flying in the sky above you as your body shook with each slash. The sound of flesh being cut and breaking bones didn’t reach your ears anymore. Soon your eyes closed.

Suddenly you jolt awake. Your breathing was irregular and your body was covered in sweat. You felt two soft hands on each side of your face and heard an unfamiliar but soothing voice say something. It took you a while to calm down and get out of your disorientated state. It was only when you were calm you fully registered the other person in the room. It was a beautiful-looking woman with long wavy red hair and emerald eyes you could drown in if you looked into them for too long. They looked familiar as if you had looked into them before, you just couldn't remember when. Her thumbs were brushing in circles over your cheeks, calming you down even more. Both of you looked at each other for some time in comfortable silence until it dawned upon you that you had no idea who this woman sitting in front of you was. Then you remembered what had happened in the woods. You pushed the woman's hands off of your face and jumped up from the bed. You grabbed an unknown object and held it in front of you as a defense weapon while you backed up until you hit what you think is a wall. The woman calmly stood up and walked in your direction while saying something in a language you don't recognize. Suddenly two other people burst through the door. The woman in front of you looked at them while speaking to them with the same calm voice as she did with you, only they seemed to understand what she was saying. At that moment while the woman with red hair was too distracted by her conversation you made an unfortunate decision as panic had taken over your mindset. You grabbed her and pulled her into a headlock while you started yelling at the two people who just entered for answers. "Who are you? Where am I, What are you going to do to me?" If you had paid better attention to your surroundings you could have noticed that the ‘wall’ you had backed yourself against wasn't a wall, but a door. Before you could register the person standing behind you, you were hit on the back of your head with a blunt object. The force made you lose your grip on the woman as you fell to the floor in a hazy state. You didn't register what happened to you after that until you regained your clearness again in a poorly lit cell.

After an unknown amount of time had passed the door to your cell opened, showing an unfamiliar woman with short red hair. She held something in her hands, but due to the darkness, you couldn't make up what it was. She stepped closer to you until she was in the middle of the room. Crouching down she placed the object on the ground. It was an earthenware bowl with fresh fruits in it. The bowl contained strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, apples, and pears. You hesitantly looked at the bowl, you were hungry but too afraid and unsure to make any sudden, unwanted moves that could lead you to be punished or brutally killed. You had seen with your own eyes what these people were capable of. The woman's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She pointed at the food and then toward you. She didn't sound angry or dangerous. Carefully you moved towards the bowl. Picking it up with your hands you studied the colorful fruits before bringing them piece for piece to your mouth. It was delicious. They were sweet and juicy. With each piece, you let out a moan from delight. This was far better than the fruit you bought at the grocery store. While you were busy eating, the woman standing in front of you was watching you, studying you. She didn't see anything dangerous in you. She saw the fear in your eyes when she walked in. Fear can do a lot to people. You woke up in a strange place with a stranger after witnessing something traumatic. At least, for you. Natalie had witnessed multiple deaths in her life and even though it still did something to her, it wasn't traumatizing to her. Your fear drove you to the stupid action that led you to be put into the cell you were in. She understood that. It reminded her of Buchanan. He did something similar in the first week here. With her right hand, she touched the small scar on the side of her neck where Buchanan had held a knife to. They had come so far. A small smile plastered her face. When you were finished with eating you placed the bowl back on the floor close by the woman's feet and slid back towards the wall. The woman grabbed the bowl and walked back towards the door. The whole time it had been wide open while calling your name. You could have tried to escape through it, but you didn't. Progress. Natalie thought. It was small and to some meaningless, but to her and most definitely to Wanda, it wasn't. She closed the door behind her and made her way to Wanda's cabin, who was already anticipatingly waiting for her to give her an update about you.

Soon the second morning of your stay in the woods dawns. While you're still secured in your cell, your parents were seated at their kitchen table with the sheriff seated across from them. Your mother could barely hold it together as your father worriedly told the sheriff about you not coming home after the party. It got even worse when the sheriff told them you weren't the only one who was reported missing. He told them that partygoers had seen you and a few others walking towards the woods. While your father was trying to console your mother he asked the sheriff if they had found any trace of you and the others. The sheriff nodded and placed your phone on the table. The screen was broken and there was something that looked like blood on one of the corners. The only thing the sheriff could bring out was "I'm so sorry. We will try everything in our power to bring them back home..." If we ever find them... He doesn't say that last part out loud, but with all the people who went missing without as much of a trace, he fears the worst. His thoughts go to his daughter who was also part of the group that was seen walking to those damn woods. He prayed to god that his daughter was okay, not knowing the horrid ending she had gotten. Her body lay almost unrecognizable in one of the death traps the people from the woods had places to keep outsiders far away from their home. Her screams of pain still echoed through the air as a crow was picking flesh from her split open head.

The early sunlight shining on your face woke you up. The door to your cell stood wide open. With care in your movements, you stood up and walked towards the light. As you walked out of the darkness from your cell you moved your hand up to block the bright sunlight from shining in your eyes and blinding you. When you were adjusted to it you looked around, taking in your surroundings. No one seemed to pay attention to you. Maybe this was your chance to escape from wherever you were. Taking another look around you to make sure the coast was clear, you started to walk in the direction of a seemingly unguarded piece of the high wall surrounding the village, not aware of the watchful pair of eyes that lay upon you. At the wall, you placed your hands on the wooden beams looking for any weak spots you could take advantage of, but you found none. Looking up you calculated whether climbing over it was an option. Before you could make a decision a firm hand was placed on your shoulder. Your eyes widened and you were sure this was the moment you were gonna die. Slowly turning around you stood face to face with a scary-looking man with brown hair that was tied in a bun and had only one arm on his body. He looked at you with an unknown look in his eyes. Suddenly he threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you towards a large cabin in the middle of the village. When you entered you were met with a room full of people who were eating and talking together. The man led you towards a table with a small group of people sitting around it in the middle of the room. Both the woman who you tried to hold hostage the other day and who gave you food last night were seated there. There was also a man and a woman who looked like to be around your parent’s age seated at the end of the table. The silver-haired boy was also there, seated next to two red-headed children who seemed to be enjoying some sort of meat. The man who still had his arm thrown over your shoulder pushed you down on a chair next to the emerald-eyed woman before taking a seat himself next to the other redhead. He kisses her on her cheek before he grabs some food off his plate and starts to eat it. You look down at the plate filled with food in front of you. Your stomach was rumbling as it was begging to be filled with food. Everyone around you was already enjoying their breakfast while moaning at the apparently delicious taste. You hesitantly reached for the reddish-looking meat before bringing it to your mouth. Taking a small bite you chew on it a couple of times, enjoying the taste of it. It wasn’t something you had eaten before as you didn’t recognize the flavor high-jacking your taste buds. The structure of the meat was a little tougher than you were used to, but it wasn’t bad. Before you knew it you had finished your breakfast and so had everyone around you. You see people clean up their things before walking out of the room to start their day. You feel a hand on your shoulder. It was the emerald-eyed woman. She looked down at you with a sweet smile and motioned for you to stand up and come with her. You could feel the stares of the others linger on you as you stood up from the table and walked after the woman. You did not know where she was taking you but you were not in a position to question things as it could cost you your life. If you wanted to live, you were obligated to live by their rules, even though you didn’t know them yet. Maybe if you showed them you meant no harm, they would let you go. It sounded like a good plan but you knew, in the back of your mind, that you were probably never gonna be let go and that this place was where you were gonna spend the rest of your life, but for now you ignored that thought. You ended up at the cabin where your stay in this village started. The woman opened the door for you and you walked in with her following not close behind you. When you heard the door lock behind you you feared the worst.

As you stood with your back to her you felt her hands being placed on your shoulders. You felt yourself tens up and she felt it too. She wanted to comfort you, but she knew that you weren’t there yet. She retracted from you and walked towards a closet in the corner of the room. She grabbed some clean clothes, clothes made of deer fur, and gave them to you. She turned around to give you some privacy. When you’re ready you scrape your throat to get her attention. She turns around and looks at you, taking in your appearance. You look a little bit more like them now. She smiles. You don’t understand why. She holds out her hand for you to take, which you reluctantly do, and pulls you outside.

Fourteen days went by. Every day you were woken up by the scary man and led to breakfast with his strong arm thrown over your shoulder while he hummed a happy tune, which had given you the chills the first half of the week, but by now you were at a point of almost joining him. You would sit next to the emerald-eyed woman, whose name, you learned, is Wanda. Slowly but certainly you started to understand what they were saying. Sometimes you even joined in on the conversation even though it wasn't much. You felt yourself getting comfortable. Your fear of them had lessened but hadn't gone away completely. There was still that small voice in the back of your mind that kept you on your toes. While the urge of wanting to leave this place wasn't as strong, you still were thinking of ways to do so when you were alone at night in your cell before sleep overtook you. Sometimes you feel guilty for still thinking of escaping plans. Most of those times were when Wanda was with you. You didn't want to admit it, but she made you feel a certain way. A feeling you were a little scared of. Her contagious laugh, her soft touch, the need to help others, you being one of them, made you fall more and more for her each day.

It was on the eighteenth day that instead of the scary man, Wanda woke you up. She had this sparkle in her eyes as she looked at you. She walked with a skip in her step to you and crouched down. Her hands were placed on both sides of your face as she smiled at you. "Today me and my friends will take you on a walk outside the wall. My father just gave me the green light." She brought you in a tight hug before standing back up again and walking towards the open door. When she didn't hear you move she looked back and nudged her head for you to follow, "Come on, handsome." You didn't understand the last part but you hurriedly stood up to follow her to the gates where the Buchanan and Natalie, whose names you just learned from Wanda, stood waiting for you both. Wanda's parents and leaders of the community were also there. He hugged his daughter, "Be safe out there, sweetheart. I trust you and your friends to behave yourselves out there and stay inside the safe area." Wanda nodded, "Yes father. And if anything somehow goes wrong, Buchanan is with us to protect us." Django looks at him as he nods in confirmation. He then looks at you. "Don't disappoint my daughter. See this as a test. If you fail..." He doesn't finish his sentence, but you know what he's alluding to and he knows you know by the slight fear in your eyes. He has seen the progress you've made in the past weeks. He has also seen how happy you make his daughter, even though you don't seem to notice it yet. But he knows from experience that some people, under certain circumstances, can do disappointing things. He hopes that you're not one of them. Time will tell. He watches as Wanda takes your hand and leads you through the open gates into the woods with Buchanan and Natalie walking not far behind.

Wanda let's go of your hand to go take a closer look at some beautiful flowers. You watch her as she does so. A small smile is plastered on your face as you watch this goddess of a woman as she gracefully touches nature's decorations. Buchanan and Natalie are watching you while having a whispered conversation. "This sight reminds me of our story, my love," Natalie says as she hugs her husband. "Who do you think will make the first move? Them of Wanda?" Buchanan shrugs his shoulders at his wife's question. "It doesn't matter, doll. What matters is what comes after the first move. Once they discover how the other feels about them not many other things will be on their mind. Like with us. You're my everything, Natalie." He looks down at his wife and brings her in a loving kiss. "I love you." "I love you too."

Soon Wanda returns, taking your hand back in hers again. The four of you walk further while taking in the beauty that is nature that surrounds you. It's quiet, only the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the chirping of birds that fly in the blue sky can be heard. Now you have a slightly bigger chance of escaping the people who brought you to their home the thought has not come up in your mind once. You enjoy walking with Wanda, Natalie, and even Buchanan. You feel at peace. The stress that had you in its grip back home has let you go. There is no worrying about work deadlines or bills that need to be paid. While you had trouble socializing with the people outside the woods, in the woods, with its inhabitants, it felt so much easier. It didn't feel forced and you didn't feel like throwing up when you had to speak to someone you didn't know yet. The small acts of affection from Wanda, like her holding your hand, felt like something you had craved for all your life without you even knowing. Not once you had experienced the feeling she gave you before. You did have flings before that made you feel something, but that was nothing like this. This felt more intense. Her presence made you feel like butterflies had made your stomach their home. You wanted to express your feelings towards her, but you didn't know how, and even if you did, you didn't know if she felt the same about you. Sure she was affectionate with you, but that didn't mean automatically that she had some sort of romantic feelings for you. You hoped she did though.

It doesn't take long however for your peaceful and slightly romantic walk through the woods to be disturbed. Unknown voices in the distance alert Buchanan as he leads Natalie, Wanda, and you to hide in the bushes. He grabs hold of a large knife that he always carries with him, as he waits for the outsiders to appear. Your eyes widen when you see who they are. Remembering that his daughter was with you the night you entered these woods you looked at the sheriff who, together with a few of his men, was walking from behind some trees with their guns in their hands, ready to fire whoever dared attack them. Suddenly the voice in your head that you hadn't heard in a while and had forgotten about spoke again, telling you that this was your chance to escape. The chance of Buchanan taking out all these armed men was present, but not high. The sheriff knows you and would probably not shoot you. You thought the idea over. If you waited for them to come a little closer Buchanan had less of a chance of grabbing you as he sat furthest away from you. They could help you find your way back to civilization. Back to your loving parents, to your good but stressful job, paying bills that got higher each year, and forced social gatherings. You were pulled from your thoughts by Wanda who hugged your arm tightly as she watched the men with worry and slight fear. She knew that if they were discovered it would probably mean their end. It was at that moment that you made your choice. You squeezed Wanda's hand tightly to reassure her. You weren't gonna leave her. She means too much to you. You love her too much to betray her and her people like this.

Natalie had seen the internal struggle when she looked at you. She could see it from your body language and the look in your eyes when you shifted your gaze from the armed group of outsiders who, from Natalie's perspective, you seemed to know, to Wanda who hugged herself close to your side. She knew you could have made a run for it. You didn't. You had de perfect opportunity and you didn't take it because of her. Wanda. She knew at that moment that you had fallen head over heels for her best friend. Even under the current circumstances, you all were in, a small smile was plastered on Natalie's face.

Luckily for you, the sheriff and his men walked past the bushes you were hiding in and back towards the edge of the woods, far away from the hidden village. When they were out of sight and ear range it felt like all of you could breathe again. Buchanan made sure that the coast was clear before you all got out of the bushes in silence. Wanda hadn't let go of your arm the entire time. You didn't mind.

The four of you decided to walk back home. Natalie and Buchanan are in front with you and Wanda walking close behind. It didn't take long for you to arrive. The gates were opened for you to come in. You thought that Wanda would want to go see her parents after what happened, but instead, she bid her silent goodbyes to Natalie and Buchanan before she made her way to her cabin pulling you with her without saying a word. When the both of you are inside Wanda locks the door so no one can interrupt the both of you. You turn to look at her, wanting to make sure she is okay... "Wanda...I" But before you can say anything else, Wanda steps forward and closes the gap between you. She cups your face in her soft hands as she kisses you with passion. You’re surprised at her action and it takes you a moment to snap out of it. But when you do, you kiss her back with just as much passion.

A whine leaves your mouth as Wanda pulls away from you and takes a step back. The woman in front of you stares at you with desire as she starts undressing. Slowly. It takes everything in you to stay patient and calm and not just rip her clothes off of her body, but you manage. As her dress lowers to the ground you can feel yourself getting aroused at the godly sight of her nude body. Her breasts are perky with hardened rosy nipples calling for your mouth to suck them. Her tighs a canvas for you to place marks on. The forbidden fruit between her legs you can't wait to eat from. While admiring her you start to undress. She watches you with a slightly opened mouth and reddened cheeks. When you're both completely naked she walks backward towards her bed and takes her place on it, not taking her eyes off of you. Her hands move to her breasts to kneed them, something you'd like to do yourself. One of her hands soon moves south. She spreads her legs for you to see her dripping core, where soon two of her fingers disappear in. It's hard for her to not close her eyes at the pleasure, but she wants to watch you. She wants to see the lust in your eyes as you watch her pleasure herself. She wants to see you struggle to prevent yourself from taking action. It turns her on even more. You clench your fists when a loud moan leaves her mouth. When your name escapes her lips you can't stop yourself anymore. You urge towards her and before she can reach her orgasm you pull her fingers out of her, replacing them with your own. Her back arches off the bed as you hit the perfect spot inside her. You take one of her nipples in your mouth and start to suck. Her hand moves to your head to keep you in place. She bucks her hips into your hand, getting close to her orgasm again. A simple plea leaves her mouth, "P-please..." You look up at her. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar as sweat beads cover her head. Her eyes are closed tight shut as she feels herself coming closer and closer to her release as your fingers keep a steady pace. "Look at me, my sweet flower. Look at me while you cum. I want to see how beautiful you look when you do." It isn't easy, but she manages to open them and look you in the eyes. Your beautiful eyes hold love and care in them, but also desire and lust. "Cum for me." You say one more time as you watch the woman beneath you cums undone. You can feel her walls clench around your fingers before her wetness covers them, together with your hand and the sheets underneath her. You help her ride out her high before you carefully retract your fingers to lick them clean. You moan at her delicious taste. She can't help herself from staring at you licking yourself clean from her juices. Before you can start with your hand she sits up and takes a hold of it, bringing it to her own mouth to lick her juices off of it while keeping strong eye contact with you. When you're all clean she brings you into a loving kiss as your tongues battle for dominance, which you eventually get. You push her back onto the bed and start slowly kissing down her body, leaving multiple marks on your way down. You open her legs to make space for you. With her legs placed over your shoulders, you start licking and sucking until she sees stars.

As the days went by you and Wanda grew closer together. She had taught you about her people's way of living and the language they spoke. Each day you became more like one of them, each day you forgot more about your previous life. Django and Marya could see how happy their daughter was with you. They too started to think of you as one of their own. You earned more freedom as you earned their trust. Your favorite occupation was taking long walks with Wanda through the woods while listening to her endless stories. You'd even admit that sometimes her stories wouldn't reach your ears as her beauty was too distracting for you. You loved everything about her. You loved her so much that you couldn't imagine a life without her anymore. Life before her became meaningless to you. Each night you declared your love over and over again to her. Every morning you would tell her you loved her in her language, which had become yours too.

Soon it was the day of the full moon. The judgment day. But everyone knew what the outcome would be as you were now almost fully a forest person. You were one of them. It would be official after the ceremonial party that was being thrown that night. Everyone was gathered outside celebrating their new neighbor with self made beverages and food in their hands. As Django held a speech everyone raised their cups to toast on you. While everyone cheered after Django finished, Wanda pulled you away from the crowd to congratulate you in peace and quiet. Wanda pulled you into a loving kiss as she held both your hands in her own. "I love you so much, Y/n. I'm so proud of you for becoming one of us. Now you and I can be together forever." She said before bringing you into another kiss. Your mind was taken hostage by your love for Wanda. "I love you too, my love. With every fiber of my body. Every thought holds you in it." Without further thought you pick Wanda up and take her to your shared cabin. Placing her on the soft bed with care you undress her while kissing every inch of her skin. When she's fully bare you take one of her rosy nipples in your mouth while you pinch and roll the other in between your fingers. You push your muscled thigh in between her parted legs, making her moan at the sudden pressure against her dripping cunt. She rolls her hips to get more friction. "Baby, I-I need you. I need you down there. P-please." Wanda begs beneath you. "If you want my mouth you need to cum on my thigh first. I know you can do it. Be a good girl and cum for me. Ruin my pants." You move your mouth to her other nipple, making her cry beneath you. She fastens her pace, chasing her high. She needs to cum, she wants you in between her legs so bad. She is so close. You tense your muscles for her. "Oh yes, baby!" She moans as she can feel a wave of pleasure flood over her. Her juices cover your thigh as you help her ride out your orgasm. "Good girl. Such a good girl." You whisper in her ear before you make your way down.

After another terrific orgasm, you decide to give her a break. You lay beside her and bring her into a tight hug. "You did so good for me, love. I'm so proud." Wanda snuggles further against you with a satisfied smile as she throws her arm over your stomach, not wanting you to move. "Thank you, darling. Thank you for loving me and making me feel so good." The two of you lay there in silence for a few minutes, listening to the people partying outside.

"Marry me"

"What?"

"Marry me" You repeat.

Wanda looks up at you and sees the seriousness and love in your eyes. Last night I talked to your parents about me. You. Us. I love you, Wanda. So much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but before I ask you if you want the same I asked your parents for permission out of respect. I mean it, Wanda. I've never felt this way. I know we only know each other for about a month, but I've never been so sure about something before. Marry me. Make me the happiest person in the world. I will treat you like the queen you are and make you the happiest woman. I want you to be my wife." You look at her in full expectation. Her eyes start to get watery. For a second you panick and think the worst, until she cups your face and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "Yes, my darling. A 100 times yes. Of course, I want to marry you and become your wife. I want nothing more." You smile at hearing her answer. The both of you stay in bed for another hour before both of you dress and return to your party to share your big news, receiving nothing but positive reactions from your new family and friends.

The next few days were all about planning your and Wanda's wedding. Wanda's mother, Marya assigned herself the task of sewing her daughter the perfect wedding dress and you, her daughter's fiance, the perfect suit. Django and his men made it their mission to build an altar in the middle of the village. Buchanan had gotten the task of collecting everything for the wedding ceremony. To do this he had to go to your parent's house. Together with two others, he left the village two days before your big day, promising Natalia a safe return. Natalia spends her days with Wanda, helping her get ready. Wanda felt nervous. She wanted everything to go right. She couldn't wait for her wedding night which she would spend against your hot sweaty body. She felt herself getting aroused by the thoughts of every sinful thing she wanted to do with you. She knew you loved her with all your being, but she also knew something you didn't. The wedding ceremony contained a sacrifice that was to be made by the one who had asked the question of marriage. You. Her worry of you maybe leaving her left as soon as she looked outside to see you playing some made-up game with her little brother. With a smile, she watched on as the two of you competitively battled for the win. It ended up in you giving the win to Pietro, making him smile with joy. Soon she would be your wife and the two of you would be bonded till death parted you. She wasn't gonna let you ever leave her. She loved you too much to let that happen. You loved her too much to do that anyway.

It was the night of your and Wanda's wedding. You were standing in your earth-colored suit at the altar waiting for your almost wife to walk down the aisle, together with the rest of the forest people. The open field where the wedding was taking place was beautifully decorated with decorations from nature and various small bonfires. The clear night sky was lit up by thousands of stars. It was the perfect night. You made eye contact with Marya, who gave you an approving nod. Behind you stood Buchanan, who became your best friend in the past weeks. On the other side of the altar stood Natalie, who looked at you with a pleased smile. Her best friend was getting married to her husband's new best friend. Life was good. The four of you could go on double dates. She already had so many fun activities in her head you could do together. As you looked around to look at all the people attending your special day, something nagged at you. Something was missing but you couldn't put your finger on it. Before you could think further of it, you spotted Wanda. Wanda who wore a stunning dress matching your suit, was being walked to the altar by her father. Tears threatened to leave your eyes at the sight. A true goddess she was. Soon Wanda stood before you. Her father gave her hand to you. The both of you looked at each other with love until the person who was gonna bond you two spoke up, drawing all attention to them.

When he was done Django spoke up. "Tonight is special to me. My eldest child and only daughter is marrying her forever love, Y/n. A person who comes from the horrid we call the outside world who found their way to us after being abandoned by those whom they once saw as their people. A person we welcomed into our home who eventually made it theirs too. They proved themselves to us and became one of us, something we celebrated in harmony as a community. Tonight I want to welcome them into my family." He said with a cheerful expression, but that soon changed into a serious one. "But before that can happen, Y/n has to perform our traditional wedding ritual to prove their undying love and loyalty towards their future wife, Wanda." You felt Wanda's grip on your hands tighten at his words. Django turned to you, "Will you y/n, accept doing the ritual to prove your undying love and loyalty towards Wanda?" You look at Wanda who nods at you, then back at him. "I will." You say with determination in your voice. Django calls for two of his men to go grab something from the cabin you remember vaguely being held in the first nights of your stay here. They return with two other people who have jute bags covering their heads and rope bound around their wrists. The two unknown people are pushed onto their knees in front of you. You can hear Wanda whisper in your ear as you look down at the strangers, "You will do this for me because you love me. Remember that, baby. Remember how much you love me and how much I love you. After you do this, we can be together forever." She pecks your cheek before she lets go of your hands. In replacement, you feel the handle of a hunting knife being placed in your hand. "Think of me when you finish them. Think of how good I will make you feel after this is over. You've seen what a good girl I can be, but imagine me being your bad girl..." With one last kiss, she nudges you closer toward the kneeled people. Django grabs both jute bags and pulls them off of the people's heads. Seated in front of you, covered in dirt, blood, and bruised were your parents. As they looked up at you you could see some relief, but a lot of fear. As you looked at them all sounds around you faded away. You could see their mouths move as they seemingly pleaded for their lives, but no sound reached your ears. Everyone else looked at you in expectation, waiting for you to immortalize your wedding in blood. Before you can think about all of this too much, you feel Wanda's soft hands on your shoulders. You remember why you needed to do this. You needed to do this for her. For your love. Your happy ending. So without further thought and doubt, you step forward, closing the gap between you and your begging parents and in one swift motion slash both their throats. Blood splatters all over you as it leaves their body. It doesn't take long for two lifeless bodies to drop onto the ground. Everybody starts to cheer you on and celebrate the official making of your and Wanda's wedding. You turn around to face Wanda who smiles at you with love. She lunges forward and kisses you with might, getting blood all over her dress. As the ceremony finishes you take Wanda to your cabin for your wedding night. Seeing you sacrifice your parents for her made Wanda go feral. The door is barely closed when Wanda rips your suit off of your body en pushes you onto the bed. She jumps on top of you and starts to place kisses on your skin, leaving hickeys everywhere. She rips a piece off of her dress and ties your hands to the headboard with it. You can only look at her with pure hunger as she devours you. Teasingly she riddens herself off of her dress, throwing it on the floor. She straddles your thigh as she kneads her breasts, pinching her nipples. while humping your thigh one of her hands moves between your legs. You moan loudly as she slowly pleasures you, building up to your first orgasm. No words are being spoken, only grunts and moans are leaving both your mouths. You can feel her wetness drip down your leg and it makes you reach your orgasm faster. Some crazy boost of strength enters your body as you free yourself with a strong tug from your restraints. Before she can register what you've done you flip her over, onto her stomach, spanking her a few times as she has been a bad girl. Her eyes roll back at the burning feeling of your hand hitting her ass, probably leaving a handprint. You take hold of her hair, making a makeshift ponytail to pull on. You align yourself with her dripping cunt en slowly thrust inside. A deep moan leaves Wanda's mouth at each inch you move further inside her until you're fully inside her. Not giving her a lot of time to adjust you start pounding into her like a wild animal. Wanda's face is being pushed into the pillow beneath her as she drools from pleasure. You don't care about the noises you make. Everyone is allowed to hear how good you fuck Wanda. Your wife. Wanda murmurs something inaudible, but you know what she wants, and you're gonna give it to her. You're gonna give her as much as she wants. "Cum, my queen. Make a mess. Show me how good I make you feel." You pull her up against your chest and move one hand towards her clit. Everything becomes too much for her and soon her dam breaks. Her juices spill from her pleasured pussy. You help her ride out her second orgasm. You pull out and lay onto your back on the bed, helping Wanda straddle your lap again. "I want you to ride me, my queen. Fuck yourself on me." Due to her sensitivity, she slowly sinks down. She places her hands on your chest as she rides you, leaving scratches all over your skin. Her breasts bounce with each roll of her hips and you love it. Your mouth drools at the sight of them. Wanda's eyes close as she feels another orgasm approach. She sits up and moves her hands to play with her breasts again as you place your hands on her hips, guiding her. "Go on, baby. Cum." You sweetly order her. Watching her orgasm is beautiful. The sound she makes while doing it is like music to your ears. Tiredly she drops on top of you. You stroke her hair while she calms down. "Tired baby? Do you need a break?" You ask her. A slightly dark laugh leaves her mouth as she sits back up and wraps one of her hands around your throat, slightly choking you. "Break? Oh, baby. I'm not tired yet and I'm far from done with you. We're just getting started. You're mine now as I am yours and I will keep reminding you of that till death do us part. Now open your mouth and eat my pussy..."

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