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#Emmett
cillianhead · 5 months
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★ MASTERLIST ★
Hey this is the masterlist with all the fics i've written so far (and will be updated every time i upload a new fic)
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Cillian Murphy x Reader:
Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed (fluff)
Three And A Half Months (smut)
Illicit Affairs (smut, dad's best friend!Cillian)
In Your Car, I'm A Star (smut)
Wind In My Hair, I Was There (angst + smut)
Lazy Sundays (smut)
A New Pair of Glasses (smut) (part one)
Red Eyes (smut) (part two)
Strawberry Syrup (smut)
Jonathan Crane x Reader:
Sitting Pretty (smut)
Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (fluff + angst + comfort)
Neil Lewis x Reader:
Pussy-Whipped (smut)
You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive (smut + angst)
Slut (smut)
Thomas Shelby x Reader:
Show Me How Much You Need Me (smut)
Ambrosia (smut)
Look What You Made Me Do (smut)
Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:
Scream For Me (smut)
Oppenheimer
- Oppie is a sub? (smut)
don't see something you think should be there? send me requests and i'll write em <3
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bellasdumptruckass · 8 months
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saintmuses · 2 months
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❝𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩❞
Pairing:
Emmett x Babysitter!Reader
Summary:
Emmett shouldn’t go into her bedroom, but he did.
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Warning(s): SMUT. Age gap (Reader in her almost mid 20s and Emmett in his mid 30s). Reader does not share any scenes with him, but he’s fantasizing about her. Stealing a shirt and seeing something else. Handjob on Emmett’s part. Implied infidelity (emotionally? Since he hadn’t cheat on his wife physically?) Minors, DNI!
Word Count: 1.2k
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The brick wall reverberated after a sledgehammer was knocked into it with such force it broke into chunks.
“A wrecking ball has a better chance than this.” As if Emmett was disgusted by how weak the metal tool is whenever it made an impact on the brick wall. He propped the tool next to the wall that was untouched.
His friend sighed, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Tell me about it, that’s why I asked for help.” He muttered before dropping the sledgehammer onto the floor. The tool clattered as it hit the ground.
Emmett lifted his dark t-shirt to wipe off the sweat that was dripping down his face. “Where’s Y/N?”
“She’s babysitting Sullivan Eobard’s kids right now while he’s testifying at the court.” 
His eyebrows arched in surprise. “Oh, the one where his wife was brutally murdered?” He inquired as he walked over to the table where beer bottles were set up.
“Yeah,” his friend nodded, sighing. “Y/N said he did not kill his wife, and her gut says he didn’t, but there’s more to it than what he had mentioned to the court apparently.”
“Her gut is rarely wrong,” Emmett reminded him, taking a swig of fermented beer from the cool bottle before placing it back on the table. “I have to go to the bathroom, mind telling me where it is?” 
“Sure, the one in living room isn’t working right now so use the bathroom upstairs.” He told him, gesturing the stairs that was down the hallway off the kitchen before lifting the sledgehammer by the handle.
“Alright, thanks man.”
Emmett just finished using the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.
His footsteps were soft as the boots hit the carpet; he observed the photos in frames on the walls as he passed by them. His eyes landed on the door that was slightly ajar from the doorframe. Out of curiosity, he peered in the bedroom after pushing the door open slightly.
He raked his eyes around the room, observing the knickknacks scattered on the dresser. He could tell it was his friend’s daughter because her room is very feminine and pristine especially her nightstands.
He froze when his eyes landed on the laundry hamper, lone in the corner beside the walk-in closet. 
He shook his head, fighting the curiosity to peer inside the hamper.
No.
Before he could convince himself to leave the room, to return to downstairs to help to knock the rest of the brick wall down. he found himself standing in front of the laundry hamper, reaching for her thin white shirt.
He curled his fingers into the soft fabric, he knew it was worn overnight due to how strong the scent was wafting from the cloth.
He brought it to his nose, inhaling slowly to savor the scent, and it bombarded his brain into a slight frenzy as if his primitive self was itching to go and find her.
Bend her over and make her take his aching cock.
His eyes snapped open with a soft groan, not realizing he had his eyes closed. He then clenched his jaw when the urge to shove the shirt into the pocket of his jeans arose.
He looked down momentarily and froze at the sight of soft pink panties lying innocently on top of the clothes that were thrown in for a laundry day. It must’ve been under the shirt he’d just took out of the laundry hamper.
Fuck.
He could feel himself hardening at the sight, craning his neck backward as he inhaled sharply. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly as his jaw clenched. 
No. No. N-fuck.
Exhaling as he ran his hand over the bulge in his denim pants before sitting down on her bed where the scent of her aroma radiated strongly. He grunted quietly, leaning back until his back met the pastel comforter of her bed.
Emmett knew his friend wouldn’t come up for a while since he could hear him starting the task again of trying to knock the brick wall down.
His fingers had a mind of their own when they gripped the buckle, minding the coldness from the metal as he pushed the leather from the miniature pin that held it in place before he pulled it out. Leaving it unbuckled, he then pushed the button through the opening.
He then tugged the metal zipper, hearing the metal grind against metal as he unzipped his jeans slowly.
He slid his hand, separating the fabric from his skin as he inhaled the aroma radiating from the soft thin sleepy t-shirt she wore.
“Y/N,” he grunted quietly in the room as he glided his fingers onto his dick, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he gripped the base, giving it a hard squeeze. It was primitive, but it was the only way he could handle without spilling too soon.
It was her hands he imagined pumping his cock, he hissed through his teeth at the intense sensation as he drew the head of his cock across the skin of his hand, painting his palm with his pre-cum. It caused his eyes to momentarily roll back in his head. His fist soon began moving erratically up and down. His harsh panting filled the silence of her room, his grunts coming deep from his chest. Fuck, he wanted her. To be inside her.
Her pretty eyes glistening in arousal. Wild in her desires as her body quivered for him. Aching for his touch, desperate for the warmth of his skin to press against her.
He groaned into the fabric clutching in his hand, fingers tightening around his thick girth. “Fuck!”
Having thoughts about her had made him extremely sensitive, shudders began to wrack his frame as he arched his hips slightly as he pushed his cock into his tight fist. Trying to mimic her cunt in his fantasy. Even though he had never experienced the warmth of her pussy, he knew for sure it would be heaven between her thighs.
He craved her, her presence is something he looked forward since he met her three years ago at his friend’s cookout. It was unfortunate she was his friend’s daughter and his babysitter for the boys. That he was still married because if he had met her while he was a free man, he wouldn’t hesitate to snatch her right up and make her his.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he mouthed, his jaw straining against the pressure of the pleasure trying to drown him.
The sensation of tingling running down his spine, the tightening in his balls as he chased his orgasm. He arched his back and his teeth sunk deep into his bottom lip piercing the skin as her name ripped from his lips.

He shuddered as a burst of heightened pleasure made his vision go haywire. Thick spurts of his cum coated his hand and the fabric of his underwear as he continued to groan out his release. 
“Fuck,” he scrubbed a hand over his face after releasing the t-shirt from his grip, defeated as he was trying to slow his breathing and calm his rapidly beating heart.
He was thirty-six years old and felt like a dirty old man while acting like a teenage boy dealing with a boner for the first time. However, he couldn’t help it when it came to Y/N.
His sweet girl.
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pedropascallme · 3 months
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People Worth Saving
Pairing: Emmett x f!Reader
Summary: "You bit the bullet and wandered closer to the dome, quiet footsteps aided by your worn-down sneakers and a strong will to find some security in this new space. Before you managed to lean down, to open the hatch and slide down into the waiting abyss below, something grabbed your jacket and pulled you back. The urge to cry out was tamped down by your will to live, and by the hand that quickly covered your mouth."
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) age gap (reader is 19-20), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of death, child loss, general Quiet Place II angst, you know the drill, etc, etc. If I missed anything please let me know!
You had distant memories about your childhood, and the hammock that your father set up in the front yard between the two tall trees that had been there longer than the neighborhood had. He had gotten lazy, setting it up one summer and then never taking it down; it sat through sleet and snow and sunshine in the same spot.
Even if it got wet, you didn’t mind. You loved that hammock.
You realized early on that if you swung your legs over the side and swayed back and forth, you could use it as a swing. Pumping your legs hard and building up momentum only to leap off at the last second and fall in a heap at the end of the lawn. It drove your mother crazy with worry about skinned knees and concussions, but you were so full of joy in the moments of adrenaline leading up to the landing.
In the fall, when the leaves changed and fell and the trees became dormant, your father brought out the rake to clear the driveway and the path to the stairs. He piled the leaves high, and you always managed to completely destroy his hard work; swinging in the hammock and launching yourself into the dry, dead leaves, you created an explosion of autumn colors around yourself, feeling the solid crunch under your body. You’d laugh and laugh, and when your father had seen what you’d done, he would laugh, too, raking the leaves back up to repeat the cycle again.
You didn’t even care that for the rest of the day you found small twigs in your Pippy Longstocking-style braids, or that the leaves made your clothes smell musty until your mother threw them in the wash. You were too young to care about anything but having fun.
Now dry leaves terrified you.
Walking through the field felt like a death sentence, and every step you took was carefully calculated to avoid detection. Your heel would land softly in a patch of dirt, then your opposite foot would land sideways on the grass surrounding an obvious booby trap. You had no idea if it was still operating, if whoever had put it there was still checking it or if they were even still alive, but you didn't want to test any theories.
You longed to crunch the leaves under your feet, to feel the simmering nostalgia under your skin come to a boil and create your own pile to jump into—to feel free again from the burden of the world and of survival.
You made it to the entrance, concrete and dry, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Though the building was huge and likely easy to hide in, and the interior was empty enough to create a dull echo with every step, you still found solace in solid footing. Part of you wanted to scream out a greeting, to see if anybody would reveal themselves—perhaps the creator of the traps outside, or someone who had found said creator and done to them what most people do now when they come across an unsuspecting second party.
Screaming was off the table, for obvious reasons, but that didn’t stop the voice in your head from repeating hello? Over and over until you couldn’t remember if you had said it out loud or not.
You took several light steps to explore your surroundings. It had been a factory, maybe, or a foundry; it was mostly machinery and empty space, but you could imagine the people that must have once taken up space on the now-empty floor around the large pillars and appliances.
You couldn’t imagine that many of them were still breathing.
There was a dome shaped trap door on the far end of the building, and you felt the urge to explore further; it had been too long since you’d been able to rest in a sturdy, isolated place, and the itch to know what was behind the hatch made you feel unreasonably confident in finding safety with whatever it was. A bed, maybe. Something soft and warm and capable of helping you forget the constant state of fear you lived in.
You bit the bullet and wandered closer to the dome, quiet footsteps aided by your worn-down sneakers and a strong will to find some security in this new space. Before you managed to lean down, to open the hatch and slide down into the waiting abyss below, something grabbed your jacket and pulled you back. The urge to cry out was tamped down by your will to live, and by the hand that quickly covered your mouth.
You breathed heavily into the warm hand that now sat on your lips. The other hand of the person who now held you captive tightened around the base of your jacket, pulling you further from the promise of any dream you had created that lay beyond the underside of the trap door. You couldn’t turn your head, relying now on your eyes quickly darting side to side, trying to use your peripheral to catch a glimpse of whoever the hands connected to.
“No.”
It was a man’s voice, shaky and frightened but clearly attempting to reprimand you. You kept breathing, trying to find a way out of the situation, or at the very least a way out of your current position. You slowed your breathing, trying to still your body, making yourself malleable and light in his hands so that he assumed you would submit. You felt his hand loosen its grip on the fabric around your back, and in the same moment you swung your leg back, digging your heel into his shin as best you could from the angle before stomping on his foot when your leg came down.
His hands flew to his face, covering his own mouth in an attempt to silence his yelp at the sudden pain in his leg. You turned around, grabbing his wrists limply and forcing your fingers into his short hair to pull him down to you. You saw him wince under the handkerchief he wore across the bottom half of his face, bright blue eyes, worn down and tired, narrowing at you. You stared at each other until he gathered his bearings, straightening his legs and overcoming the pain you had caused him.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You whispered as menacingly as you could, refusing to become a shrinking violet in the presence of this stranger after everything you had gone through. He moved his hands slightly, as if to shrug, before you realized you had him trapped with his palms over his face and thus left him unable to speak. You dropped his wrists, and his arms fell to his sides, but you kept a vice-grip on his scalp.
“Get out.” He kept his sentences short, you noticed from the three words he had spoken, and you understood why.
“Why?” You weren’t going to make this easy for him.
“You can’t stay here.” Four words. New record.
“Why?” You pressed, bothered that he seemed to think he had a right to the entirety of the building despite its size.
“It’s mine.”
“Don’t see your name on it.” He rolled his eyes at you, and you tightened your grip on his hair, earning another pained look from him. “And you don’t seem to be in any position to be giving orders.”
“Took me by surprise.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” You were dry, not wanting to give in to any banter he might try to pry from you. “Look, I haven’t eaten in two days, haven’t slept in three, and I don’t think either of us wants to make a scene given the current climate,” you nodded your head toward the door, implying that you’d leave him for the wolves if you had the chance. “Let me stay. One night. Then…”
“One.” He repeated, not bothering to acknowledge your sob story or the implication that this would be a fight for later. “Can you let go of me now?” You let go of him, pushing his head slightly as you loosened your fist. He straightened to his full height and rounded you. “Were you followed?”
“If I was, we’d be dead by now.”
“By people?”
“If I was, we'd be dead by now.” You persisted.
He let out a long exhale before nodding, bending to open the hatch and offering a hand to help you into the room below. “Ladies first.”
You exhaled sharply, biting your cheeks, and grabbing his outstretched hand before lowering yourself into the fluorescent lighting that awaited you. You retracted your hand as soon as you made it down one rung of the ladder.
It was small. Not small—it was actually bigger than most rooms you’d slept in for the past few months, but it was built like a classroom; high ceilings and minimal furniture, the lights flickered above you and you jumped when you heard the hatch close with a loud creak and crash.
“S’alright,” the man dusted his hands off on his jeans, “can’t hear us down here.”
There was a tunnel built into the wall, and you noticed a rag tied to the handle.
“What’s this?” You fiddled with the fabric before he came over to brush you off of it.
“Even quieter in there.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Trial and error.” He said simply before turning his back to you and slumping into the couch that lay in the middle of the room. He removed his handkerchief, sharp features only slightly hidden now by his unkept beard.
You wandered around, taking in the meager furnishings and the machinery. You had no idea what this room was meant to be in the building’s prime—maybe some sort of safe room, some sort of storage area. Who cared, really; now it was just another waste of perfectly good silence.
“So,” you started, still speaking softly out of habit and mild distrust, “are you going to, uh, get me to let down my guard? Kill me in my sleep?” You picked at the paint that was peeling off the wall.
“Not as long as you’re out by tomorrow,” he almost smiled, “and for the record, I’d only kill you if you were awake. Only fair that you see it coming, at least.”
“Cute,” you huffed, “And now that I’m down here what makes you so certain I’ll leave?” You were testing him, trying to see if there was any truth at all to what he was saying. He didn’t look like a killer, granted neither did you before day one; he was tall, compared to you, at least, and lanky. He clearly hadn’t had access to a razor since he’d been down here. He folded his arms where he sat on the couch, pleasant-ish small talk paired with closed off body language. You couldn’t see any weapons within arm’s reach, and if you had to guess you would say he only learned how to use whatever gun that he owned—if he owned one—when everything went to hell.
“Guess I’ll leave it up to trial and error again.” You liked his eyes, you decided, and the way the blue of his irises was so pronounced against his pale skin and brown hair. Maybe you even thought he was handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you might let him buy you a drink and see where it took you. You kept walking in circles around the room in silence, figuring that if he had anything worth saying he would come out and say it.
You stopped at a small table, something your mother would’ve gawked at in an IKEA as if she would actually ever buy it after looking at the price tag. There were pictures, hand drawn sketches and scribbles and faces in black and white. Some of them had color, faded, and worn by time, but still clear as day in the part of your brain that bothered to register the details.
“These are nice,” you were first to speak again, “you draw them?”
“No…” he looked like he was struggling to find the words to say what he wanted to, “My—my wife…” He trailed off, and you knew immediately that she was no longer in the picture, whether it had been before or after the invasion. Still, you felt a twang of disappointment; maybe for him, for his lonesomeness—or maybe for you, for your own.
You picked up a sketch that looked to be of two young boys, and even on the washed-out paper they looked like the man behind you. You turned, paper in hand, unsure of whether you wanted to speak to him about it, dredge up his memories.
But what's a little friendly conversation between new anti-companions?
“Yours?” You leaned over the back of the couch, holding the sketch in front of you so he could see what you were talking about. He reached for it, and you noticed a slight tremor in his hand before he took the paper from you.
“Yes,” he breathed, “yeah.”
“Look like you.”
“Better looking kids than I ever was,” he chuckled, low and solemn, “better behaved, too.” You watched on as he studied the picture, before he stood up and placed it back on the table behind the couch. “I was—um…y’ever seen the movie The Mist?”
“Yeah…” You wondered what exactly he could be building up to.
“When they—my sons—they…the first day…" You could feel his breath, not because of proximity, but because you knew the same pain. "And I was so, so scared that I would wake up on day two to find that everything had returned to normal, and everything was going to be ok, but they would still be…like at the end of that movie.” He folded his arms again, “but now I, I mean this is—god, I guess I’ve never said it out loud, uh…maybe…it’s good they didn’t have to see…this.”
You nodded, remembering how that movie ended; your parents had let you watch it, not knowing what it was about. You had nightmares any time it got foggy until you were ten or eleven. “Yeah,” you looked at him, making eye contact for a solid few seconds before averting your gaze. “I—my parents, and…my brother…” you didn’t know how to phrase it, feeling as though he had already said it all, “I get it.”
You didn’t tell him you had turned 19 in the week leading up to doomsday, that you had been sitting on the hammock that shaped your childhood and thinking about the joy of being small enough to jump into the leaf pile your dad was raking when you saw the first meteor strike town, or that the last words your mother screamed were “I’m sorry.”
It just didn’t seem right; sometimes grief is better explained through the silences.
“I’m Emmett,” he broke you from your thoughts, “And I’m…sorry for—if I scared you. Up there.”
You said your name, realizing it was the first time you had introduced yourself to anybody in over a year. You reached out your hand and he took it in a firm shake. “Pleasure.”
He smiled, a genuine, full smile this time. You decided it suited him well.
“You sleep on the couch?” You broke free from the way he was analyzing your features, trying not to focus on what he might think of them.
“Usually, yeah,” he leaned against the arm of the sofa, “but I’d be ok to sleep on the floor if you want.”
“No—that’s nice, but no, you don’t have to.” You hoped he saw through your lie, how desperately you wanted to rest on something soft. “I’m only here for the night, anyway, remember? Don’t want to…shouldn’t get too comfortable.”
“You can…” Emmett looked at you, then over his shoulder toward the couch, “I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his forehead, lifting his messy hair before trailing down to stroke his beard, “you can stay, I just—can’t be too careful, you know? And I didn’t, I was worried you were—”
“Gonna kill you?” You smirked, and he smiled again.
“A little, yeah.” He looked at you, and you realized how close you’d gotten to him over the course of your conversation, “Stay as long as you want.”
“Does this mean I get the couch?”
“I think that’s fair.” He moved, grabbing several pillows from the couch, and dropping them on the floor underneath it; his makeshift bed would, at least, be mildly comfortable if he could help it. “You got here when the sun was setting, I’ve been up since it rose,” he sat amongst the pillows, trying to lay them out in a manner suitable for him to rest on, “So, if you don’t mind, I’m about ready to get some sleep.”
You nodded, dropping yourself onto the couch and grabbing the thin blanket draped over one of the cushions; it was threadbare, and fraying, but you didn’t care—too focused on the fact that you’d be able to sleep in a quiet, comfortable spot. You watched Emmett flick a switch in the corner of the room before he returned to his mess of pillows, and the lights dimmed. If you squeezed your eyes shut you felt like you might be able to hear your parents watching television in the other room, like you were in your own bedroom eavesdropping on their hushed conversations; safe, known.
But it wasn’t any of that—not really. In the back of your mind, you worried about the lack of exits in the room, the fact that you still didn’t know whether or not Emmett had a weapon, the looming threat that remained just above you. You looked at the ceiling when you opened your eyes, wondering if anything had followed you, wondering if they would figure out how to unscrew the hatch and find you in this echo chamber of a building.
“Emmett,” you managed to whisper through your anxieties, “Are you awake?”
“It’s been five minutes,” he sounded tired, and you realized that the dryness of his voice wasn’t due to any disinterest in you, but lack of use. “I’m still awake.”
“How do you know this is safe?” You picked a loose thread from the blanket and watched it unwind in your hands.
“It’s safe.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
You tried to drop it after that, ignoring the fears that you carried with you from past encounters where you were assured of your safety, only to wake up and find that you had to keep running. “And they can’t hear us?”
So much for dropping it.
“They can’t hear us.” You heard him turn over on the floor, and you shifted to face him. Even in the darkness, his eyes were piercing, and you had no trouble finding them with your own. “I’m certain. I promise.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” he shook his head, “only fair to be nervous.”
You nodded, lying back down, and pulling the blanket to your chin. It didn’t really do anything, and the chill of the room seeped into you even after you shifted to make yourself more comfortable. Maybe it was because you kept moving, or maybe he felt it too, but Emmett addressed you again.
“Cold?”
“Yeah,” you didn’t bother hiding it. Once the world went to shit there was no real reason to keep up the niceties of denying discomfort to your host. At sleepovers hosted by your friends, you would’ve said no, I’m perfectly comfortable, and breathed into your hands until the sun rose, and your mother picked you up with a sweatshirt and a bagel fresh from the toaster. Now? Fuck it.
“Would’ve been warmer in here when the building was still in use,” he began to ramble, and you thought it was so dad of him to feel the need to explain the history of the building you slept in when all you really wanted was some comfort, “machines and bodies moving, and, I mean, the heat generated from these things would’ve been crazy.”
“Emmett,” you cut his monologue short, your face peering over the couch cushions and down at him, “are there more blankets?”
“No…” He seemed embarrassed, almost like he was worried he was disappointing you.
“Are you cold?”
“Not really.” He closed his eyes.
“Emmett.”
“A little.” He sighed; his eyes opened again.
You sat up and patted the couch, unsure of why exactly this was the solution you had landed on, but feeling like it was worth a shot. “Come.”
“Are you sure?” He hardly seemed hesitant, moving to join you almost immediately, but still trying to gage whether or not it was an empty offer.
You nodded, moving to make room for him behind you. When he first settled onto the couch, you recognized that this was the first time in ages that anybody had touched you—that anybody had come close to you. Heat radiated off of his clothed body and you couldn’t help but inch closer to him, bodies tangling together on the small sofa, trying to find peace. You wondered if he felt the same catharsis that came with sharing a sleeping space; if he was just as in awe as you were at how perfectly your bodies seemed to fit together, curving to appeal to the needs of each other and your individual comfort. Emmett’s arm draped over your abdomen, his hand brushing the hem of your shirt, and you sighed, unable to hide your content at the feeling of him shielding you from the wider world.
“When was the last time you…” you whispered, trailing off when you realized how awkward the question would sound.
“Hm?” His response was muffled, his face all but buried in your hair.
“When was the last time you touched somebody?” You but the bullet.
“I…must be months, now.” He didn’t think too long about it, “What about you?”
You turned in his arms, careful to not disturb the cushions too much under your weight. You were face to face with him now, with little room to do anything but breathe. “I don’t remember.”
You didn’t mean it in any sexual sense; really you were just curious as to how much physical affection anybody was getting given the current state of things; how long had it been since any two people had the time to just hold hands? And really enjoy the touch and weight of the other’s hand in their own, fingers interlocked? But deep down you knew there was an implication to your words, a desperate implication that you hoped he would pick up on, and that, if he did, he would understand your want, and fulfill it wholeheartedly.
Emmett’s hand strayed from your waist to brush your cheek, the back of two fingers caressing your skin, and your patience broke; you held his wrist with both hands, a parallel to the way you had trapped him earlier when you considered him a threat, and lowered it to your lips. You could feel the callouses he had built up, the roughness of his palm versus the soft skin of the back of his hand. You gave each finger a delicate kiss, waiting for him to break away, waiting for him to move back to the floor and tell you that you absolutely had to leave tomorrow, to hell with what he had said earlier.
But he didn’t.
He watched, transfixed, as you slid one finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip and releasing it with a quiet pop. You let go of his wrist, and looked up at him with hooded eyes, half-expecting a look of disgust.
His mouth was open just enough to see the edges of his top teeth, eyes focused on your lips, and you felt that his breathing had picked up, though that could have been a trick of the surrounding quiet.
“You like that?” No, he was definitely breathing harder. You could hear it in his words.
“Yeah,” you sighed, relieved by his words, the bright eyes staring back at you in the dark room seemed entirely untroubled with your actions, “Do you?”
“Yeah.” His fingers moved to trace the shape of your face before landing on your chin, lifting you slightly higher to allow him access.
No time was wasted in the moments that followed; his mouth attached to yours in one natural movement, and he immediately granted your tongue access to him when you began licking gently at his lower lip. You felt spit and teeth, and you could hear your heart in your ears, its rhythm in your face as he nipped gently at you, your lips getting puffy from use.
Arms wrapped around your waist again, this time to haul you up and over Emmett’s body, his motion encouraging you to straddle his waist. You planted your hands on his chest before reconnecting your lips to him, determined to explore every inch he offered you from your new vantage point. His t-shirt, stretched and worn, exposed a sliver of his chest, and you were quick to suck marks onto his collar bones and just below them. He groaned at the contact, hands traveling lower down your body in order to undo your jeans.
“Work with me baby, c’mon,” Emmett clumsily undid your fly as you licked over any skin you could reach. He pulled at your hair to bring your line of sight to his, and the stinging pressure on your scalp made you moan, “Help me out here, I’ll give you what you want.”
You straightened out above him, grinding your hips into his as you stripped down; jacket, shirt, and jeans following once you had made enough room for yourself to remove them. You returned to your rightful place on his lap, continuing to grind down onto him to relieve the building ache in your core. The friction he gave you was just right, and it helped to hear him groan when you dragged your hips up and down at just the right pace, his cock twitching in his pants at the weight and the angle.
His hands came up to paw at your chest, squeezing the tender skin before leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your back arched, and you could only guess how pathetic it looked, coming so undone, so easily, for a man you had just met, clearly more than ten years your senior.
It was desperate and needy, and you didn’t care; you deserved this. Both of you deserved this.
You felt teeth brush against your pebbled skin, making you grind down harder atop him, letting the tip of his clothed cock catch your naked cunt and relishing in the sensation. He removed his mouth from your nipple, pulling you down to him to reconnect your mouths and give you a deliberately sloppy kiss full of tongue.
“Off,” you pleaded between gasps of air, fingers skimming the edge of his pants, “Take them off.”
Emmett huffed, and you sat back on your knees, giving him the space to sit up and remove his shirt, before he stood to take off his jeans. You waited for him to rejoin you on the couch, to continue what he had started there, but he kneeled in front of you instead, pulling you legs apart and holding them wide open.
“God,” one of his hands fell forward, gently placed low on your stomach, his thumb toying with your swollen clit and puffy lips, “Fuck.”
He dove into you, mouth open and wanting; you felt him come into contact with your hole and you jumped, head back and eyes closed as genuine pleasure washed over you. You placed a hand on the back of his neck to stabilize yourself as he began to fuck you with his tongue. The muscle lapped up your slick, pushing back into you, and repeating the process, his thumb still massaging your clit.
“Yeah, like that,” you whimpered, back arching off the couch. The hand still on your thigh ensuring that your legs would stay open for him reached up to squeeze one of your nipples; it was rough, and all the movement and friction he was giving you was utterly relentless. The overstimulation left you reeling, and you put your own fingers in your mouth to muffle the screams you wished you could let him hear. “Just like that, Emmett.”
You felt yourself teetering on the edge, one breath and you were a goner, bound to free-fall.
"I feel you," he let a trail of spit fall over your cunt, and when he spoke you could feel the prickly hair of his beard against your thighs, "squeezing me so tight—cum for me, baby, c'mon."
He sped up his movements on your clit ever so slightly, and you felt your legs begin to tremble, body light and head full of stars. You came with ease, the most relaxed you’ve felt in ages was with Emmett’s face buried in your cunt, lapping up what dripped from you like it was his only water source.
You nearly had to pry him off of you, fist in his hair while you came to from your high as he continued to enjoy himself vicariously through your pleasure.
“Come,” you steadied your breathing, “come here.” And he listened, but not before allowing himself a final taste, dipping his tongue into your center, rising to meet you face-to-face in another deep kiss. You could taste the sweet tang of your cum on his tongue, and it only drove you further into the fucked-out fugue state you were experiencing; you gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer and moaning into his mouth.
There was no rush, no bell to beat or timeframe to fit into, but you wanted so badly to see him come undone for you; you raised yourself up on your knees, and you felt them dig into the couch, the pattern of the fabric marking your skin as you pushed Emmett down. He sat, beckoning you to straddle him. You felt a shred of embarrassment, clambering to position yourself on top of him, an awkward feeling you hadn’t felt since high school, but it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered right now except him.
“Slow,” you finally settled, feeling his length brush against you from below, and with your head resting against his shoulder you could feel your own breath rebound against your nose. “Need you to go slow.”
“I know, baby,” he cooed, reaching down to fist his cock and line himself up with your entrance, “Don’t worry, I got you.”
You began to lower yourself, the feeling of his swollen head nudging your hole made you suck in a sharp breath; you bent your legs further, taking more of him, letting him fill you completely on your own terms, and he guided you every step of the way with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, breathing hard against the crown of your head.
Maybe it was because of the tension, or because you so craved the connection—to hear him respond to you and what you alone were doing—but you dropped down quickly on the last few inches, feeling him deep and rough against your cervix, earning a choked groan from Emmett in your ear.
“Fuck, good, baby, that’s right.” You preened at his words, holding your position for a while longer to get accustomed to the stretch you felt before finally raising yourself up slightly just to inch back down his shaft again.
You felt full, stretched out and used—but in a way that was so positively welcomed; it had been too long since you were able to enjoy yourself in any capacity, but this act was certainly the most fun.
“Feel good? Like riding me like this?” Emmett tilted his head back, grabbing a handful of your hair to pull you from the crook of his neck. You stared at him, and he at you, hellbent on watching as you liberated yourself from the nerves and anxieties of the world around you—he craved your bliss as much as you did.
“Yes,” you squeaked, still bouncing on his cock, legs getting sore at the exertion in such a tight space, “So fucking good, Emmett.”
He moaned, eyes fluttering closed and hands moving to grip your ass. You could feel his blunt nails dig into your skin, and you expected—hoped—that there would be bruises to show for it tomorrow.
“Getting tired?” He whispered when he noticed the short breaks you took between moving up and down on his cock to simply grind down onto him, moving your legs around his chest awkwardly in an attempt to shift your weight. You nodded, thighs burning from exertion, and he sat up, kissing your forehead before lifting you gently off of him and moving you to lie back on the couch. Emmett took his time crawling over you; he kissed your thighs, your stomach, the space between the plush skin of your breasts, before finally he had you completely engulfed underneath him, giving you soft kisses as he slid himself back into your warmth. You lifted your hips to meet him, moaning at how he fit with you, how you could memorize every ridge and vein of him like this.
And then he started really moving.
You felt him pull out, the slight pressure of the tip of his cock pressed gently against your entrance, taunting you, before he slammed himself back into your waiting cunt. It was deep, and rough, and you clawed at his bicep to ground yourself to him.
Emmett let out deep moans, forehead pressed against yours while he drove his cock as far into you as he could, and your logical side went completely out the window; you whined, yelped at the pleasure coursing through you, mewled for him louder than you should have, but neither of you seemed to care.
“That’s right,” he closed his eyes, focusing every part of himself on you, “give me another one, let me feel you.” His fingers latched onto your clit, watching intently at the way your face contorted at the friction combined with the feeling of his cock inside of you. He drew tight circles over the bud, letting you buck your hips up into him to signify how much pressure you needed at a given moment.
“Gonna—I’m gonna cum,” you whispered, then, louder, “Emmett, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
He didn’t say anything, just applied more pressure to your clit and gave you longer, slower thrusts. He watched as you began to tremble, your mouth falling open with small whines of his name. He sat up, cock still buried in your heat, thrusts slowing as you opened your eyes to the white-hot satisfaction of your orgasm. Overstimulated didn’t begin to cover it, but you didn’t want this to end.
His thrusts were getting sloppier, not in the sense that you could feel his rhythm falter, but his hips stuttered slightly every time he was fully sheathed in you, and you could tell he was holding back, trying to make this more about you than about his own release.
You pulled him down, nuzzling his neck and placing sloppy kisses on his pulse point as you whispered to him: “Want you to cum,” your lips grazed the shell of his ear, “Please, Emmett.”
You were proud that it seemed to only take your pleading whispers for him to lose himself to the finish he longed for; his hips snapped rough against you, and you could feel his chest heave against your own when he allowed himself one more moment inside of you before pulling out to finish in his fist.
His cum was warm, a perfect contrast to the sweat cooling on your skin, and his growl of your name was music to your ears. He fell forward, head cushioned by your breasts while you both focused on your breathing. Your fingers found the hair on the nape of his neck, thumb brushing the part of his beard that curved just under his ear.
You were in the perfect space between tired and satisfied.
“Thank you,” Emmett murmured into your skin, punctuating his words with soft kisses.
“Thank you,” you echoed, unsure of what to say now that the heat of the moment had passed. “I…I needed that.” You paused, “I liked that.”
“Me too,” he whispered.
“I don’t want it—I don’t want this to be the only time.” You felt immature for some reason, all but begging for this to happen again when you didn’t even know if you’d see next week.
“Doesn’t have to be,” he whispered, “we don’t have to leave,” he looked up at you, tracing your features with his eyes, “You don’t ever have to leave.”
You grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. He squeezed it back.
You fell asleep without a care, thrilled to be in the position you were in, in every sense of the word; Emmett stayed on your chest, the weight of his body on yours only adding to the reassurance and calm you felt.
You had a dream that you raked your own pile of leaves, and jumped into them.
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bbdoll · 4 months
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Willow Creek🎄Christmas Market 2023
These two attend Christmas market every year. Enjoying the festivities of building snow pals, ordering venti cafe lattes with oatmilk, ice skating and buying Knick knacks from the vendors. LuElla particularly likes viewing the small villages and snow globes. But she purchases the exclusive Christmas gnome they roll out every year. Emmett always manages to sneak off and listen to the carolers or catch a tv playing winter sports.
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therrothekid · 6 months
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TILL A peice I made for the Emmett Till legacy foundation for the 68th Anniversary, an event celebrate the life and legacy of Emmett Till
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fandom-oneshots-etc · 10 months
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Hello! I'd love to see Jacob Black and/or Edward or Emmett Cullen with a single mama. She was given custody of the 1.5 yr old when his or her parents(reader's friends) passed. The little one is ENAMORED with whomever you write it for(like silently follows them/copies them when they're doing something it's just adorable.) Please and thank you!!!
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🍄 Pairing: Emmett Cullen x Reader
🍄 Genre: Fluff
🍄 Summary: Emmett is about to meet the one year old that you took in after your best friend died and surprisingly your toddler's not the one who's nervous...
🍄 Word Count: 1852
🍄 Abbreviations: (t/c) - Toddler's name
🍄 Warnings: None
🍄 Note: Thank you for the request @twilightlover2007! I hope this is what you were looking for, I had a lot of fun writing this. There might even be some Little Bee drabbles in the near future... ♡
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(E/c). Bright, shining, (e/c) eyes. That was the first thing that had caught your attention in the hospital that night a year ago. Despite the heartbreak and despair that had gripped at your heart as the Chief of Police stood in front of you, his words seeming to merge together, barely decipherable through your sobs, the second you stepped through those hospital doors your life changed. Surprisingly, for the better. The tragedy of your friend’s death had become a new shining ray of hope in your life as you took on single motherhood. The tot was barely six months at the time of her parents’ death, but you had, had the joy of watching her turn into the one year old she was today.
Your eyes fluttered back and forth as you watched the hulk of a vampire pace in front of you. Emmett had always been a bundle of energy. You had said from the start that he was like a toddler on a sugar high almost a hundred percent of the time. But this was a different kind of energy than the one you were used to. You were used to the boisterous and bouncy vampire you had come to know and love, but this was a new kind of energy. You had never seen Emmett this nervous. If you hadn’t been parked outside of the daycare center you were sure he’d be blurring back and forth in the trees, his ‘human’ pacing just didn’t seem to cut it.
Your eyes glanced to the door of the daycare center as yet another toddler disappeared with it’s parents into the parking lot. You knew soon that the nursery assistant of (t/n)’s class would poke her head out of the curtains wondering where you were. You were never usually late.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you pushed off where you had been resting against the jeep and forced yourself to stand directly in Emmett’s path. But Emmett didn’t miss a step and circled around you, stopping at the end of the jeep and twisting to circle back just as he had been doing prior. You reached out a hand and rested it on his arm as he made to pass you again and held on as tightly as your human strength would allow.
“Babe, stop,” you muttered and Emmett came to a stand still beside you. You paused for a moment to make sure that he wouldn’t start pacing again before dropping your hand to your side. “What’s going on?” Your eyes searched his face for any indication as to what had brought on this nervous energy, but nothing. “I thought you were excited to meet her? If you’ve changed your mind that’s fine-” An uncomfortable lump grew in your throat at the thought of him changing his mind.
You wouldn’t dare hold it against him if he did. But the lump in your throat stayed prominent. (T/n) came along with you. There was no way around that and that meant Emmett wouldn’t be able to stay if he decided he didn’t want anything to do with (t/c).You shook your head softly to dispel the cloudy thoughts. Your poker face must not have been as good as you thought as Emmett’s golden gaze locked with yours almost frantically.
“No, no. It’s not that,” he sighed. You reached out and linked your hand with his, rubbing soothing circles on his marble skin. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want to meet her, I do, it’s just...” His lips pursed together as he searched for the right words. “I mean, what if… what if I hurt her?” Confusion flickered across your features.
“Babe, where is this coming from? You never worried about this before.” You waited for an answer but there was nothing. “Look, you’re great with Renesmee-”
“Yeah, but Renesmee’s half vampire.”
“And half-human,” you reminded. “And you’re great with me too and I’m a hundred percent human. At least the last time I checked I was.” And still were to yours and Emmett’s knowledge. “Emmett, there is no one I trust more with (t/c) than you. And I know for a fact that the second she see’s you, she’s going to love you. I know I did. So prepare yourself, you’re about to be trapped forever.” You giggled.
Emmett’s lips tugged a little at the corners.
“Was this your master plan? Make me fall in love with you and then get your toddler to trap me?” He offered you a dimpled grin. “Cause baby, let me tell you, I’m not going anywhere, you’re like a drug and I’m already hooked. You’re stuck with me.” He lowered his head down to rest his lips against yours and captured them in a short but heart-racing kiss. His lips danced against yours, pulling you in closer with his hands on your hips against his firm chest.
A light giggle broke through the parking lot silence as another father passed by you with his son in his arms, asking about his day. You pulled back from Emmett and blinked hazily up at him for a moment. He always seemed to reduce you to nothing with his kisses, they always engulfed you entirely even if you were the one initiating it. Your heart thudded against your chest and your cheeks darkened as Emmett smirked down at you, no doubt hearing every shudder your heart made against your ribcage.
“Come on,” You entwined your fingers with Emmett’s and turned to tug him gently towards the daycare center. As you neared the entrance, your eyes glanced to the Sunflower Room window where the curtain twitched and the familiar red headed woman appeared to peek through the curtains just as you had expected. Lila was a lovely nursery assistant and (t/n) loved her. She had always been kind to her and was never judgmental towards your circumstances.
Just as you reached the doors, Lila appeared and buzzed you in.
“Hey,” she beamed as you entered, tugging a slightly awkward Emmett behind you. “I was just about to start wondering where you were. I take it this is Emmett?” Emmett nodded and smiled politely. “Well, it’s great to finally meet you. I’m Lila, (t/c)’s nursery assistant.”
You followed to the door of the Sunflower Room and Lila pushed it open. One of the other helpers was just clearing away some of the colouring that had been left out. You’re eyes rested on your little (h/c) toddler sat on the floor with her stuffed elephant and some other stuffed animals that she had collected from the corner of the Sunflower Room. She was babbling incoherently which she had been doing for a couple of months now, she had always been quite a vocal baby.
“(t/c),” Lila called over. “Look who’s here.” (t/c) turned her head at Lila’s voice and locked eyes with you instantly. Just as it always did, there was a light tug in your heart as her bright (e/c) eyes stared at you, seemingly looking into your soul. Your lips pulled into a wide smile as the little tot grinned a toothless grin and pushed herself up onto her feet. It had been nearly three months since she had perfected her walking without tumbling to the ground every time she stood on her own feet. And she was fast too. In seconds she was clumsily running over to you.
Her arms were splayed wide as she came towards you, you released Emmett’s hand to drop into a crouch and allow her to slip her arms around your neck. You peppered kisses all over her face as she giggled furiously. You finally stopped with a little giggle of your own as she looked back around for Lila, but instead her eyes locked on Emmett. Your eyes flickered between (t/c) and Emmett. (t/c)’s nose scrunched as she stared up at the unfamiliar man. It was almost comical to see your large teddy bear of a boyfriend acting more sheepish than a one year old, but you knew his nerves were still present.
“Ah?” (t/c) turned back to look at you, seemingly waiting for an explanation, her small head tilted to the side much like a puppy.
“This, my little bumblebee, is Emmett, my boyfriend,” You knew that she wouldn’t necessarily understand what you were saying, but a formal introduction felt right. “And Emmett, this little bumblebee is (t/c).” You offered him an encouraging smile. Emmett dropped into a small crouch, and even then he still towered over you and (t/c). She continued to study him silently as he smiled at her with a little wave.
“Em?” she hummed. “Em. Em!” (t/c) pulled out of your embrace and shuffled over to stand in front of Emmett, her little palms coming to rest on his cheeks as she continued to repeat ‘Em!’ excitedly. You couldn’t help but let out a little huff laugh as she moved to grab one of his hands and tugged him across the room towards the plush rainbow carpet laid across the ground. She dropped his hand and lowered her body to pat her hand on the carpet, then looked up at Emmett expectantly. The poor vampire turned to you baffled as she did it again, seemingly more impatient this time.
“She wants you to sit,” Emmett nodded and lowered himself onto the ground, awkwardly crossing his legs looking a little uncomfortable.
You watched closely as the little (h/c) haired tot trotted over to the shelves in the book corner and selected the one she wanted, you briefly saw the cover and recognized it as the book My Monster and Me by Nadiya Hussain, which you had recently brought for home. You’d been reading it religiously since you’d brought it home from the store and it was one of her favourites. The toddler wandered back over to Emmett, his eyes following her every move. He straightened his back as she approached and turned herself around so that her back was facing him, she dropped down into his lap, her little legs raising above the floor as they didn’t quite reach over his stretched ones.
(t/c) wasted no time, she flipped open the cover of the book. Emmett, thinking that she wanted him to read to her, started to speak but in a second her hand was pressed to his mouth, her little eyebrows furrowed.
“Uh, uh, uh,” She shook her head firmly. She pressed her finger to her lips indicating to him to be quiet. When she turned back to the book, she began ‘reading’ to him. Not that she was giving any of the actual words, instead it was just the toddler gibberish she had picked up, but that didn’t make the scene any less adorable. Three pages into the story, you caught Emmett’s eye. He offered you a soft smile. In that moment you knew everything was going to be okay and that (t/c) had just gained herself another protector for life.
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porcelainnpines · 7 months
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They make awful music btw
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joesquaredkq · 10 months
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Joe Keery as Emmett in “Chicago Fire” Episodes 16 “Red Rag the Bull” & 17 “Forgive you Anything” (2015)  
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vampiresinforks · 5 months
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🧛🏻buffysummers' vampire appreciation week🧛🏻
DAY II: favorite vampire/vampire dynamic or/and favorite vampire/non-vampire dynamic:
Emmett and Bella Cullen, The Twilight Saga
"Everyone applauded when Edward kissed me on the doorstep, then rushed me to the car as the rice storm began. Most of it went wide, but someone, probably Emmett, threw with uncanny precision."
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cillianhead · 5 months
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Hi, I love love love everything you write! Your so talented could you please write something about Emmett. He & y/n have arrived on the island and Emmett can't wait to make love to her without being quiet. Thank you ❤️
You are amazing thank you <3
I love Emmett...
that film was what got me into Cillian. Literally remember going nuts over how hot he was.
Anyway... hope you enjoy!!
Scream For Me || Emmett x Reader
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, oral sex (m receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, adult content.
18+ Minors DNI
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The island was safe. You kept repeating in your head, and you couldn't help but flinch as everyone spoke out loud or did something a little too noisy. You just sat and waited for the horrid creatures to get them but they never came because they couldn't swim. Emmett easily talked aloud, it was strange, this was the first time you had really heard him talk so loud. Of course, you'd speak louder than a whisper but never this openly. His voice made you feel all woozy and shy in such a pathetic way.
"I reckon we're gonna head to bed now..." Emmett murmured to the group around the fire, he looked at you, seeing your nervousness. This was only your second night on the island, you still hadn't quite adjusted yet to a comfortable bed and clean clothes... and working showers. "It was lovely talking to you all, goodnight." Emmett patted a few guys on the back, waving politely before sauntering to you.
Emmett picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, you gasped at this, looking at the people giggling at you two. They had a small empty house for the two of you to live in, it was nice enough. Nicer than anything you'd find back out on the mainland.
"So quiet," Emmett hummed as he sat you down on the foot of your bed. A look of hunger was evident on his face. "You're such a good girl, Y/N." He knelt down in front of you, torso in between your legs as he peppered kisses along your neck and collarbone.
"Emmett..." You whispered.
"No need to whisper here, sweet girl," He grinned at you. "You can be as loud as you want."
You leaned in, kissing him desperately, the way he pawed at you made you feel weak. Hands slipping underneath your cotton sweater and pulling it over your head, breaking the kiss. "No bra?" Emmett smirked before teeth sank into the top of your left breast, sucking in and creating a plum-colored bruise. He was trying to elicit a reaction out of you, trying to get you to moan, trying to get you to be loud.
"God... Em..." You said through shaky breaths, a little louder this time. He kept marking you until your entire chest was littered with love bites with teeth marks indented around it like some sort of peculiar pattern of rosettes. "Markin' you as mine," He grunted before latching a mouth onto your erect nipple. "Everyone's gonna see ya love, gonna see how you belong to me, and you're my girl" Emmett pulled away from you, pulling off his clean white shirt, revealing his chest hair and the snail trail that tucked itself away under his trousers.
"Emmett... we haven't... had sex in so long..." You bit your lip, thinking about how you had been so stressed and so busy trying to survive that you never really had time to do anything. You thought about how last night you two had separate showers. You had a long hot shower, the first in a long time. Of course, you bathed in creeks but it wasn't the same. You had been given a fresh clean razor when you first arrived on the island as well. Emmett chose to neatly trim his beard but he still kept it long. He knew how you loved his beard.
"I know, need you so fucking bad, feel..." He grabbed your wrist and placed it over his clothed cock, letting you feel how rock-hard he was. You reached up and eagerly tugged down his pants, the ones that fit him so nicely, they were slightly high-waisted and they weren't caked in dirt or old blood. You wondered what Emmett was like before this all started, you wondered how you two would've gotten along, though you quickly remembered that he had a wife before all of this. "Gonna suck my cock? Must be a special occasion, go on, baby, suck me off."
You give a timid lick to the weeping head of his cock, sighing happily at the taste of his precum on the tip of your tongue. "Don't tease." He said firmly. Emmett held you by your hair which was pulled up into a makeshift ponytail. You looked up at him as you slowly wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking harshly and feeling pleased as you see his eyes flutter shut, sinking even further down on his shaft.
Emmett's hips bucked into your mouth involuntarily, you gagged and he moaned at the sight of you. Spit dribbling out of your mouth, lips stretched around his thick cock and eyes all watery for him. One of your fingers slipped underneath your shorts, slowly rubbing at your clit and moaning around his dick as he began fucking in and out of your mouth, letting tears slip down your face.
"I love your little mouth," He grunted deliriously, hands on either side of your head as he fucked it harshly, using you like a fleshlight. "I wanna cum down your throat... fuck... but I need to be inside you." He slowly pulled his wet cock from your dribbling mouth. You gasped in for air, massaging your aching jaw as he stroked himself slowly.
"I want you to cum inside of me... please..." You whispered. He had never done that before, the last thing you two needed was for you to get pregnant during a time like this. But things were different now, you were on the island, and maybe you could raise a baby together finally. "Please... Emmett..." Your glossy eyes looked up at him, pleading silently with him.
Emmett's eyes glazed over, he looked like was high as you slipped your shorts and underwear off, revealing your freshly shaved cunt to him. His jaw fell open as he whimpered, "Fuck, look at that," Emmett let go of himself and approached you slowly, pushing you down and spreading your legs open to look down at this new look for you. "What a pretty little thing... can't believe you did this for me."
"All for you, daddy." You hummed quietly, no louder than you would when you'd fuck in the bunker. He grunted at the nickname as he fell down on top of you, holding himself up with one arm and the other helped guide his throbbing hard-on to your gushing pussy. "Are you gonna cum in me?" "So desperate for it, 'course I'm gonna fuckin' cum in ya," He remarked, pushing into you slowly. "How could I deny you of that? Especially 'cause you asked so nicely."
You arched your back, slapping a hand over your mouth to cover your moans like you always did for him as his cock was now fully sheathed within you. The stretch ached deliciously, pussy clenching around him, begging him to move.
"Fuck..." You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head, nails digging into Emmett's strong shoulders. "Emmett..." You whispered. You were trying your best to stay quiet as he began grinding into you.
"Speak up for me," Emmett groaned, rolling his hips right into where you needed him. "Need to hear you scream for me, baby... I know you've got it in you."
You shook your head, whimpering as he fucked you like a pornstar, panting above you, mouth agape and eyes clearly displeased with your disobedient reaction. One of his nimble fingers slipped down your stomach and onto your pulsing clit, you were painfully aroused, every stroke of his dick brushing perfectly against your g-spot. Your mind goes completely blank, legs squeezing and shaking around him, nails leaving claw marks on Emmett's biceps. You couldn't help but start to scream, he was fucking you so passionately you couldn't hold it in.
"That's it," He breathily said. "That's my girl, tell me how good I'm fucking you." "So good!" You moaned, sounding like you were being railed within an inch of your life. His balls slapped against your ass and Emmett's hands now were gripping onto your hips, holding you tightly, manhandling you into the bed and using you to chase his own pleasure. You were a mess, an extremely loud mess, on the brink of tears at how good he fucked you. "God.... daddy! Oh... fuck... wanna have your babies!"
A sick grin spread across his blissed-out face, high on the feeling of your tight cunt all stretched out around him. "Then I'll give you my babies if that's what you want, gonna cream in you, gonna fill you with my cum every fuckin' night til..." He gasped out, stuttering on his words, you were squeezing him tighter than ever, his raspy tone of voice bringing you closer to cumming your brains out. "...Gonna fill you with my cum every night til... I see you walkin' round all pregnant and glowing with my kid in you."
You nodded your head desperately and cried like a slut, Emmett leaned down and intimately pressed his forehead against your own, thrusts sloppy as you felt the orgasm unleash itself upon you. The pleasure is hot and white and consuming, words incoherent as you scream out. His own seed fills you like an endless fountain, the vibrations of his own moaning in your neck send you further down that spiral of pleasure.
"Oh, daddy..." You're gasping out for air, your hands cupping your own tits as he still rutted into you, almost a bit pathetically, his cum spilling out of you as his seed just kept on coming. "So... so full..."
His eyes are squeezed shut, the veins in his forehead prominent as he slowly begins to come down. He didn't say a word as he collapsed on top of you, catching his breath, sweaty skin pressed against you. "My love... took me so well..."
"I think I was too loud..." You bit your lip, feeling incredibly flustered and embarrassed at how you knew the rest of the island probably heard your late night shenanigans.
"No such thing," Emmett pressed wet kisses along your jaw, trailing them until he reached your lips. "Prettiest thing I've ever heard." He whispered, speaking right into your mouth. "I'm gonna make you scream until your throat is raw, I'm addicted to your sounds."
You could feel him grow hard again and his hungry lips took yours in his again and the screaming began again, this time concealed within a kiss.
-
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bellasdumptruckass · 8 months
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kellan lutz’ casting as emmett was perfect i’ll never ever complain about it ever. but i do want to say that realistically, emmett (as the strongest person ON THE PLANET) would probably not be dorito shaped. he wouldn’t have visible abs. he’d have a big, burley waist, and a layer of fat over top of all his muscles. His neck would be thick as fuck. his legs would be tree trunks. he’d look like the guys who throw around telephone poles for fun in those strongman competitions. he wouldn’t be able to put his arms down fully at his sides bc his muscles would be so thick. again, NOT complaining at all, i would not change his casting for anything. i’m just describing a version of emmett that, um, is very, uh, interesting to me for…reasons.
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cartoongirlblog · 9 days
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dbnightingale24 · 5 months
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Getting Lost In The Silence With You
An Emmett Lovestory
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Surprise, and Happy Halloween!!
I just wanted to make something fluffy and loving, since I'm always giving you guys angst and despair 🙃 anywho, I hope you all enjoy this little story, I hope you're enjoying one of the best days ever, and please be safe! As always, thank you to @fuckingbyefor the amazing moldboard, and for just existing. Alright, enough of my rambling, enjoy!
Like always, Tumblr is on it's bullshit, so I'm only gonna post part of it here, and leave the link to my AO3 if you wanna read all of it.
Word Count: 15,618
Warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI), Swearing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Dealing with Loss, FLUFF, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Self Doubt, A Bit of Self Loathing, uhh...I think that's it?
Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Are The One I Waited For, I Knew It All Along
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I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere.
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You keep your giggles quiet as you feel something tickling your toes.
Emmett.
‘Happy birthday,’ he smiles down at you after your eyes finally open.
This has been routine for the past three years now, and you can’t help but smile at the fact that you and Emmett have had each other to lean on. You wonder how something so beautiful came from such an ugly turn of events.
When Emmett found you, you were both wary of one another. He hadn’t meant to find you, and you hadn’t meant to find him. He stumbled across where you’d been hiding, searching for materials to stock up on. The second he found you hiding, you both pulled your guns on one another. While you were more than sure that he could see the fear in your eyes, you saw the emptiness and despair in his. Yet the longer he looked at you and the more you shook, the softer his features became.
He held a finger against his lips, a sign for you to be quiet, and slowly led you out of the closet. You warily grabbed the few of the things you had and followed him. You’re not sure why you followed him to this day.
“What were you doing there?” he asked softly, once you two had reached where he was hiding out, putting away the few supplies he was able to scrounge up on his trip.
“The same thing everyone else who’s alive is trying to do. Hiding.”
“That’s a terrible hiding spot.”
“It worked out just fine for me for the last two months.”
“Are you alone?”
Silence.
He turned around to see you standing there, eyes watering as you tried to look anywhere but at him.
You’d been alone for a year at the time. There hadn’t been anyone you’d confided in, and you didn’t find yourself wanting to know anyone. The last person in life died in your arms and you’d decided to keep to yourself from then on out. It just felt like the best idea; the safest in this world surrounded by danger.
“I don’t mean to be harsh, you just...that spot was dangerous. Even more so if you’re alone. Have a seat. Have you eaten today?”
“Don’t eat much,” you mumbled, taking a seat at his table, looking around the empty space. “I don’t hunt unless I have to.”
“I’ll get you something, just sit tight,” he told you softly. 
You looked around and saw the different drawings, a few pictures, and wondered how long it’d been since he lost everyone.
“Th-thank you,” you told him softly, pulling out a bottle of wine and setting it on the table.
Seemed like a pretty decent peace offering. 
“Where the hell did you get that?” he half smiled, coming over and picking up the bottle in admiration. 
“Some of it’s self made, others are from...before.”
“How old are you?”
“What’s the date?”
“October 31st.”
You smiled and shook your head, wiping away a few tears, “I’m 27 today.”
He offered a sympathetic smile, “happy birthday.”
And that’s how it started. You never intended on staying with him, and you’re more than sure he never meant to let you stay, but you both soon found that you enjoyed the company of each another. It’d been a long time since either of you had people in your lives, and it just felt nice to have someone around.
Even if you two didn’t say much to each other for the first few months.
Every once in a while, he’d hear you crying and sit by you, softly placing his hand over yours and you’d squeeze it softly. Other times, he’d have restless nights, tossing and turning for hours, and you’d just sit by him and take his hand until he felt at ease. In exchange of him getting food, you taught him how to make his own wine and vodka. You would share books, and every now and again you’d both go to the nearby falls together just to hear something.
This stayed a constant for months until he found you listening to your iPhone one day.
“How do you still have one of those?” he marveled, putting a plate of venison in front of you.
Deer was his specialty.
“My best friend figured out to make a battery one night,” you laughed softly. “She was drunk as shit, but real determined to make it work. She refused to lose all of the comforts from the way things used to be. It was the last gift she ever gave me. I’m not the best when it comes to things like that, so I try not to use it often. I don’t wanna end up breaking it and being fucked,” you finished with a scoff as you pressed ‘pause’ and set it aside.
“What’s special about today?”
“It’s Christmas Eve.”
“Explains why it’s so damn cold,” he muttered, and you laughed softly. “Anything good on there?”
“Depends on what your definition of good is,” you smirked, pouring the both of you a cup of wine. “Being a Jersey girl, there’s a lot of Springsteen on there-”
“You’re from Jersey?” he questioned before he realized he cut you off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“No, it’s okay. We’ve never talked about it. Um yeah, I was born and raised in New Jersey. My parents moved to Millbrook after I went off to college. I was here visiting when...when everything happened. Got stuck,” you chuckled humorlessly. “At least I don’t have to worry about paying off my college loans,” you muttered as you cut up your deer and Emmett laughed.
It was the first time you’d actually heard him laugh.
~~
You can read the rest here.
taglist: @autumnrose40
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bbdoll · 4 months
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Happy Birthday 🕯️
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saintmuses · 3 months
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❝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞
Pairing:
Emmett x Abbott!Reader
Summary:
When the world ended, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who she would always talk to at the baseball games, wondering if she would ever see him again.
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Warning(s): SMUT. Age gap (Emmett is in his late 30s and Reader is in her early 20s). Both POVs. Minor angst (barely). Slight degradation. Thigh grinding. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Flashbacks in italics. Minors, dni! Note: Emmett is single and does not have children. I also tweaked some of the events from the movie in this as well as giving the Colony leader a name because I don’t recall if they ever did.
Word Count: 5.7k
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Y/N Abbott was walking through the bustling crowd as she could smell the hot charcoal heating up hot dogs and hamburgers to the point it smelled charred.
It was the summer when she came back from her junior year at a university in Chicago.
She heard her name being called; she turned her head to see her mom walking towards her with a small smile. “Hey Y/N, your dad wants you over there with Regan and Beau.” 
Y/N turned her head to see Regan waving at her along with her dad at the stands; Beau was idling by them, playing with a toy he had in his hand. She chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Alright,” she murmured softly, turning her head at her mom in acknowledgment before striding over to where they were.
She walked up the stands, maneuvering between spots she could fit through so she could sit by her family. She ruffled Beau’s hair as she passed him, Regan reached out and tugged her hand firmly to sit next to her.
Y/N grinned, “you got something you want to say?” She signed to her sister as she eased herself down onto the cool metal bench. 
Regan shook her head, ringlets bounced along with the movement. “I can’t tell you right now, but I will later.” She signed back to her quickly.
Y/N tilted her head slightly, “oh. You got me curious now. Is it about a guy?” She signed discreetly, asking her the typical question that every teenager experienced at least once in their lifetime.
Her sister nodded her head in a quick affirmative action. 
Y/N smirked before dragging her attention from her sister to her brother, Marcus who was waiting in the line for his turn to bat.
“Oi! Lee, who’s this?” A curious but loud voice could be heard from behind her.
She turned her head to see there was a man sitting at the top row of the metal tiered bleacher with some sort of shortwave radio placed next to him.
Her dad chuckled beside them, “you haven’t seen her until now because she didn’t want to be around us anymore, but this is the oldest Abbott.” He grinned with mirth in his eyes as he explained in a form of a joke causing Y/N to roll her eyes.
“Dad…” she muttered, feeling a secondhand embarrassment from the introductory speech before she focused on the man before her.
He was wearing the dark colored cap with a denim blue form fitting dress shirt; a tattoo could be seen peeking out on his upper bicep underneath his shirt. However, what drew her attention was how intense of the color of his eyes.
Icy blue. 
She could feel her cheeks staining in slight pink when she noticed that he was raking his eyes over her, a small but genuine smile as he raised his hand to her in a form of a handshake.
She reached out, clasping it with hers. His skin was calloused in some areas which told her that he had done some extensive labor for a living. 
“I’m Y/N,” she said quietly.
 His eyes were piercing as he spoke to her with a low voice, “nice to meet you, I’m Emmett.”
She nodded in acknowledgment before releasing his hand, turning her face to the baseball field in front of her.
Y/N didn’t think someone like him would pique her interest since he resembled to one of those mechanic guys at the only mechanic shop in Millbrook town. However, her eyes kept straying from the baseball field to him every now and then as she kept telling herself he did not fit in her type.
On day four hundred and seventy-four, Y/N found herself nearly yelping when she felt a hand wrapped around her mouth, her eyes widened in sheer terror in response when she saw a man in a filthy but familiar cap and rugged bandana covering half of his face.
He whispered inaudibly into her ear, shushing her very gently. “I got you.” 
She immediately recognized his voice, being able to place the owner as Emmett. The man who never left her mind.
She swallowed and nodded, somehow looking at him gave her a sense of relief, then he took her where he sent her mom and her siblings down in the underground of the foundry as they hid from one of the Death Angels as what her dad and the media called them such as.
She could tell what happened to him for four hundred and seventy-four days had left him with a severe cynical outlook on life, so jaded that he would say that people weren’t the same anymore ever since what happened on day one.
It was all in his eyes. The sense of tiredness, caution, and coldness in his depths.
Not without a slight regret when his gaze were on her as he told her mom that they could not stay here.
And not without a sense of disappointment she felt when she realized she may never see him again when they leave after the dawn began to break.
Only the rest of the day and night then they would need to disappear in the morning.
It wasn’t until late at night when her sister woke her up with a brief touch on her shoulder.
Y/N was once a heavy sleeper until the death angels invaded the Earth and now, she woke up to random little noises wondering if it was her last moment. 
Her eyes blinked blearily to see Regan beckoning her towards the vault. She looked around the dark dinky space after she propped herself up from her spot, observing her mom as she slept next to the makeshift crib and Marcus was sleeping on the floor by it as well.
She then walked across the space quietly before climbing in the vault, closing the heavy circular door, only leaving a few inches before turning to face her sister.
Regan was sitting at the end of the vault with the dimmed lantern, a map of New York  in front of her and the radio next to her. “I have an idea.” She signed to her, eyes peering at her expectantly. 
Y/N gave her the green light to express her idea as she sat there. Regan began to animatedly sign with eyes lightening up, pointing at a nearby island miles off the mainland of New York, referring to the potential connection of the song Beyond the Sea to the radio tower where the survivors were able to reside at. Theorizing that if she could travel across the water and use her cochlear implant to help to emit the high frequency signals to weaponize against the creatures roaming on Earth.
Y/N was already shaking her head, immediately rejecting the idea. “You can’t go,” she signed firmly. 
A pause as Regan stared at her, then displeasure rang in her eyes. 
Before she could respond, Y/N signed emphatically, “mom would worry about you whether if you’re in one piece or not. She has a baby to consider now, and she can’t take care of him if she worries about you.”
“Then you do it.” Regan’s hands were expressing her defiance sharply.
Her instinctive response was to say no because she did not want to leave her family behind. What if something were to happen to them while she was gone? What if something happened to her if she ventured out on her own.
She was going to tell her no until her dad’s scream echoed in her head. She paused; her dad would’ve wanted her to do it. To give the humanity a better chance of living after everything had been said and done.
After packing a few things that was required for survival. She placed the backpack on her back as she looked at her sister by the opening space of the foundry facing the direction they would’ve gone to if it had not been for the surprise bear trap and Emmett.
The moonlight was casting shadows on them, illuminating the darkness that the light hadn’t reached.
“You swear to not say anything and pretend not to know where I’m going?” She asked, eyebrows raising.
Regan nodded firmly; her pinky finger held out in front of her. Y/N sighed with a small smile before raising her pinky finger to return the gesture, clasping around hers loosely then she was gone, returning to the underground.
She inhaled softly, looking at the other direction where she knew Emmett was residing above the abandoned factory as he watched over the overgrown grass covering railroads before returning her gaze back to the other side. 
When the dawn broke the horizons, symbolizing four hundred and seventy-five days since the day one, Emmett ventured down the tower before returning to the underground. He heard the rushed footsteps below him as he climbed down the steel ladder.
“Y/N is gone,” Evelyn whispered frantically, eyes glimmering with slight panic. His jaw clenched down in fear, if he had more strength added to his jaw, he would’ve had an astounding dental bill. 
Stoically, he stared at the blonde-haired woman while he was dealing with the simmering fear that was causing an inner turmoil in his mind.
She continued, “She must’ve left in the middle of the night when we were sleeping. I don’t know where she went.” 
His eyes strayed from her as she continued to talk, landing on the children who were watching him with skepticism and caution. The young boy was hovering the baby as he checked on him. However, the teenaged girl was gnawing her bottom lip as her eyes barely twitched which was a dead giveaway as if she was unfazed by the news. His gut instinct had rattled at the sight of her.
A simple of the fact Regan was hiding something which meant she knew where Y/N was going.
Paper rustling slightly as Y/N aimed a flashlight at the map to see how far she ended up going from the Foundry to the abandoned building on the side of the railroad. Squinting her eyes at the words as it was eerily dark and the bright light from the metal object was not helping a bit.
Her head snapped to the right when she heard a slightest noise from somewhere. It wasn’t loud enough for a creature to come, but she knew it had meant something was lurking in the darkness.
She slowly pushed herself up from the wooden floor, standing as she aimed the flashlight in specific corners of the building.
She swallowed as the noise edged closer to where she was at.
All of sudden, a large hand clasped over her mouth and the other hand wrapped around her waist as their arm pushed them into a broad chest. Lips pressing against her ear, whispering into it before she could struggle. “Hey, hey, it’s me.” The hushed sound of his voice made her relax in his hold as she sighed inaudibly into his palm. His skin felt warm against her lips as he hadn’t released her from his chest.
Then he whispered gruffly, his fingers dug into her skin lightly as to emphasize his emotional turmoil. “Why the fuck would you leave?” 
She told him the idea her sister had with her cochlear implant. Explaining everything that occurred earlier in the morning before she left. She pointed at the map, trailing her finger from the location of where they were at to the island where Regan’s theory had a chance to be proven.
The sun rays were shining through the dirty windows the next day as she was shaken on the shoulder by a heavy movement, she opened her eyes confused until she saw him above, kneeling next to her. He mouthed that he found the Marina where the boats would reside at.
The sun was setting below the horizon by the time they arrived at the bridge before he helped her to prop herself up on the steel beam of the bridge so she could see what Emmett had found.
There were ships and boats docked at the harbor in the distance, resembling hope that they were closer to finding a solution to the end of Death Angels.
Before the world fell apart that day, she was on the edge of her seat watching the baseball game. 
“Hey, Y/N. I have a question for you.” A voice spoke up from behind her, and her lips curled before settling in a blank expression when she turned her head to see Emmett looking at her with a grin on his face.
“What is it?” 
“How do you sign the word dive?” Emmett asked, blue eyes shining with mischief and curiosity. 
She pursed her lips as she raised one of her eyebrows, “I’m going to need more context than that. Are you referring to swimming or a situation related?”
“Whatever you want to show me, sweetheart.” He said it casually, shrugging. 
Her breathing hitched slightly; red stained her skin in response. He only said the word ‘sweetheart’ whenever her family were not around them. 
She cleared her throat, chuckling slightly. “Situation wise, I would just spell the word or explain it differently in sign language. You, however, are not ready for the spelling part.” He let out a low rumbling of laughter at her teasing. She ignored how her heart went pitter patter as she continued, “swimming wise, you just do this.” She demonstrated the sign for the word he requested.
He mimicked the sign in the exact form, and she nodded, a little pleased. Realizing she was a little too pleased that she had to look away due to the indescribable expression on his face with unknown emotions in his orbs as he stared at her.
He could tell she was angry at him for how he was barely reacting, stoically looking at her. Oh, but his eyes were glimmering in pure feral rage at the treatment as one of the rugged filthy bandits dragged her down the wooden dock, away from him.
No one touched her and got away with it, not on his watch. 
He internally beckoned for her to look back at him, and somehow…somehow his prayer was answered when she turned her head to look at him once again, and he immediately clasped his palms together in a form of prayer, but he pushed his hands upwards, tilting forward before aiming down in a curve to resemble a diving position. The one thing he had always remembered before death came calling for thousands. Her eyes once twinkled in amusement as she taught him how to sign the word dive.
Who knew he would’ve been signing the same word over almost two years later, and he was filled with a sense of relief when she realized what his game plan was in terms of getting them out of the danger.
She struggled with the man who was holding her in a death grip until they edged closer to the edge of the dock before she pushed against him and threw herself into the water.
Emmett charged at him, wrapping the fishnet around his neck before maneuvering him to the metal pole, tying it to the point it had the man choking on the material around his neck.
He knew he had to get rid of the others. He could’ve left them alone he supposed but after what happened with Y/N, he wasn’t going to let them live, and there was only one way to do it.
He pulled out the weapon out of his pocket, and immediately felt a twisted sense of satisfaction of stabbing the hunting knife into the man’s thigh before twisting it in his flesh, relishing in his screams.
Once he spotted a Death Angel charging towards them while destroying the others, he released his hand off the handle of the weapon, moving away from the wounded man, and lunged himself off the dock, into the cold water below.
The chopped wood were crackling and burning in the fire pit as Y/N used the spoon to scoop the hot liquid with chopped vegetables before bringing it to her mouth. She hadn’t had a true decent soup that didn’t come straight out of the metal can in a long while. 
There were sounds of laughter and animated words shifting the surrounding which she was not used to. She was used to the quiet and few moments of screams during their final moments, and now she was sitting in front of the bonfire as people were being lively as if Death Angels had not arrived to destroy those moments.
She felt a sensation of someone’s eyes boring into the side of her head, and she dragged her gaze from the bowl to see Emmett sitting across from her, observing her with a small quirk of his lips graced on his face. When they arrived the Island, they were able to take a shower and clean up themselves, and with the option being available to him, he was able to trim his beard which made it more tame rather than unruly. 
She looked away shyly, focusing on her soup once more. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed Emmett standing up from his spot from her peripheral vision before he walked over to where she was sitting at.
She cleared her throat when he sat down next to her, placing the wool blanket on her that was originally wrapped around him. “Thank you.” She mumbled before putting down the ceramic bowl onto the bench next to her. It had felt weird speaking without mouthing the words or whispering.
He was shaking his head, “no need to thank me.” He mumbled, staring into the firepit before looking at her. “Regan was right, and-“
“We were wrong?” She asked lightly, looking at him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, I almost thought of her to be wrong too.” She smiled wryly, “you couldn’t anything but not believe after everything that had happened.”
The next day the Colony leader, Darius took them to the radio station building to test her sister’s theory by placing the cochlear implant next to the broadcaster signal after wiring it to the microphone.
Darius informed her gently that if they were to stay on the island permanently, there were several options for living.
A few cabins in the woods up north of the island and a beach house on the east shore.
“I would like to go for the beach house,” she blurted out, blushing when she realized that she sounded a bit too thrilled at the prospect of living in a beach house especially when she had a family back in the Foundry.
Darius gave her a slight smile, “It has four bedrooms and two bathrooms, and it’ll need some fixing but-“
She shook her head and said, “I don’t care.”
Y/N had always loved staying at the beach houses whenever the Abbott family took vacations to beaches, she would sit at the deck facing the ocean whenever they were at and listen to the waves as it met the shore.
She turned her head at Emmett, “I mean…if that’s okay with you. If you don’t like the idea of a cabin then-“ she was rambling that he had to raise his finger to press against her lips to make her stop.
“I’ll stay with you and help you get the place get all fixed then I’ll go for the cabin.” He murmured with a small smile with amusement in his eyes as he gazed into her eyes. “We can go back for your family after that, yeah?” 
She stared at him before her lips curled in return while nodding. “Yeah.” She said quietly.
For approximately two weeks since life had become different, there was nothing to do  that they were able to get the house fixed up.
Despite the beach house was restored, Y/N never ended up telling Emmett to go to the cabin that could’ve been his, and he seemed like he didn’t want to leave either.
They had made plans to return to the Foundry the next day and bring her family to where she and Emmett had been living.
 Y/N was wearing sleepy shorts and a large t-shirt she had found in the laundry hamper. She had been standoffish towards Emmett all day since she woke up from her lustrous-filled dream of him holding her down and fucking her into the mattress. Poor Emmett was confused because he did not know what he did wrong, and she could not tell him why she had been acting off with him.
However, she was able to make him feel better when she offered a movie and snacks kind of night.
They settled down on the sectional couch as they watched a movie that they hadn’t watched before on a television box.
She had been lucky to find the sectional couch under the tarp when she had arrived at the beach house. It was huge; she would sit in the middle of the couch, almost closer to Emmett, and he tended to gravitate towards the chaise part of the furniture. Her heart did a little trill at the idea of him having a favorite spot on her furniture. It was almost domesticated-like in a way, making himself at home.
The noises emitted from the television speakers as the film rolled on. 
She started shifting in her spot as hot and heavy scenes began to play. That was not what she wanted to see today of all of the days.
She was horny and maddeningly frustrated which Emmett picked up on.
“Are you alright?” He asked, concern in his voice as he turned his head towards her.
“Yes,” she said sharply, refusing to look at him while feeling a slight sense of regret since she hadn’t meant it in that tone.
Eventually her eyes strayed from the fuzzy television screen to the slight tan but hairy skin of his thigh that wasn’t covered by his basketball shorts.
A small whine accidentally escaped her throat while the feeling of arousal began to build making her shift in her spot some more at the sight of his lower thighs.
Before she could calm herself down, she was stunned as she felt hands wrapping around her waist and lifted her up from her spot, dragged onto the top of his thighs where she was sitting partially on his leg while her back was propped against the couch.
Feeling surprised that she momentarily forgot why she was whining and shifting in the first place as she looked at him with wide eyes.
Emmett narrowed his eyes at her, blue eyes flashed with unknown emotion, “behave.” He warned her with a stern tone as he laid his right arm on the back of the couch and his left rested on top of his other leg.
The feeling of shock faded as lust came back with vengeance, she swallowed before turning her head away to face the screen.
Then one character said something so out of left field when it comes to the woman. Said something about wanting to make her his in vivid details. The horniness increased a bit.
Emmett chuckled slightly, “hearing it on tv just makes it sound terrible.” He muttered with slight disgust in his voice.
Then she quietly asked, almost timidly. “What if you say it to someone?”
He blinked at the screen before turning his head to look at her. His eyes raked over her expression before a smirk slowly appeared on his face. “Then it would not be terrible because it means it’s true. Those actors don’t mean a damn thing what they say on tv. Feelings on tv is all artificial unlike people with real feelings.”
They stayed in the position for a little while longer while her arousal began to worsen over time due to proximity, watching the movie until Emmett shifted his leg which shifted the sleepy shorts under the curve of her ass.
She bit down her bottom lip in response, ensuring that he did not mean to do that. So, she maneuvered herself until she could sit further away from his thighs and closer to his knees which was a mistake because he had moved his leg again, nudging his knee which shifted her shorts again and she knew her wetness had seeped through. After all the sleepy shorts and underwear, she was wearing were flimsily thin.
His eyes widened in shock as he looked down to see a slightly glistening spot on his lower thigh. Then his light blue eyes darkened into a storm. “So, what you’re telling me is that you’ve been mad all day because you’re horny?” He asked, slightly in disbelief as he stared at her.
She blushed, refusing to answer him.
However, he did not need an answer from her. It was as obvious as the blue sky. He lightly dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, inhaling slowly. “Show me.” His words rumbled.
She stared at him in surprise as her breathing got caught in her lungs before she let out a low whimper.
He reached over while spreading her thighs, grabbing her towards him before his index and middle fingers curled into the shorts to pull aside the fabric to see her panty-cladded cunt. Unfortunately, the fabric was a light color so he could see how sopping wet she was.
He rumbled lightly at the sight of it, intensely transfixed on the fabric. “Your pussy’s soaking wet. How long have you been like this?” He murmured, inquiring with a question in his gaze.
She hesitated, her eyes trained on him as his ring and pinky fingers lightly grazed against the underwear which she had felt it through the fabric, and she shuddered in response as the sensation.
“Tell me, sweetheart.” He commanded while the motion of stroking her cunt became more firm through the fabric.
She closed her eyes at the pet name, “I’ve been feeling like this all day…” she mumbled, exhaling slowly as she opened her eyes.
He hummed before he finally pushed the thin damped fabric with his index and middle finger along with the shorts before using his other hand to push a finger into her.
Her hips buckled in response, gasping as she said, “I’m sorry.”
He chuckled nearly breathlessly at how tight she was, “don’t be sorry.” He murmured softly, “you’re just needy, craving for someone to touch you…” he trailed off, licking his lips as he leveled his gaze with hers hungrily. “Only my touch, right?” 
She nodded frantically, “only yours.”
He gave her a self-satisfied smirk before pushing another finger into her cunt, “you’re tight.” He rumbled. “Have you been touched?”
“Only with my fingers and toys before…everything happened,” she mumbled shyly. Realizing it made her sound inexperienced when she told him.
He inhaled sharply, “fuck.” He groaned. It sounded guttural as if it rumbled in his chest making his voice sound hoarse.
She frowned. “Is that a bad thing?”
He chuckled, shaking his head, “no sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting that, but…” he trailed off before continuing. “It actually makes sense,” before curling his fingers upwardly to brush against the spot inside her making her whine in response. “You’re such a needy little slut.”
Her lips parted before she bit down her bottom lip as the degrading comment sent shivers of lust down in her veins.
He withdrew his fingers before maneuvering her into his lap as he sat up on the couch. He then removed her shorts and underwear down her legs before throwing them off to the side, and gruffly told her to start riding his thigh.
She stared at him with wide eyes, “y-your thigh?” 
He nodded expectantly, looking at her with darkened gaze. “I want to feel your pretty little pussy rubbing on me.” He purred softly with a hungry grin. His fingers flexed on the curve of her ass.
She closed her eyes before she started to grind her hips onto his hairy thigh slowly to get used to the sensation.
“Keep your eyes open and look at me,” he growled, digging the pads of his fingers into the smooth skin of her flesh.
“I can’t.”
He began to urge her hips, moving her back  and forth. “Yes, you can. I want you to see whose thighs getting you off, sweetheart.” He cooed softly.
She could only stutter as she opened her eyes reluctantly, and he chuckled at her response. “Such a needy slut,” he said teasingly as she kept rolling her hips onto his thigh desperately. His eyes then darkened once again before releasing one of his hands from her back to reach her jaw. He gripped it gently, but possessively. “My needy slut, aren’tcha?”
She nodded frantically, and he groaned heavily before smashing his lips onto hers with a force that knocked the air out of her lungs as he kissed her. Shoving his tongue into her willing mouth, edging them into a kiss that borderline filthy before easing them into soft and pliant kisses. “You didn’t think I know?” He breathed against her lips, “that pretty little thing like you wanted me as much as I wanted you for so long?”
He then dragged her off his thigh as he resumed to kissing her, igniting a sense of disappointment within her before he rolled her over under him on the cushion. He then reached down to the edge of the shirt, pushing the fabric up until her breasts were bare for his hands to touch and squeeze. 
She jerked her head away from his greedy mouth, needing air to breathe which didn’t deter him because he continued with his lips trailing down her jaw, leaving wet streaks behind before dragging his lips to her neck. Pulling back before observing the shirt that bunched up above her breasts, “the shirt’s too big on you.” He pointed out with a frown painted on his lips.
“I stole it from your laundry,” she whispered shyly as if she committed a crime which she did not other than theft.
He groaned, “you’re mine.” He said gruffly before easing the shirt off of her body before taking his shirt off as well.
She felt her lips trembling slightly at the sight of his bare chest, “I’m-I’m yours.”
Emmett then removed his basketball shorts along with his underwear before placing himself on top of her between her thighs.
She felt his cock lying on top of her pelvis, it was very warm, and she could feel the ridges on underside, making her realize that it was big and heavy. She whimpered at the thought of being split apart on his girth. 
He dragged his cock back and forth on her skin before he gripped it to rub the thick tip against her cunt, collecting the wetness along with it. He then pushed it downward until it caught in her hole. His breathing hitched at the feeling, and he was not even inside her yet.
He pushed his hips; the thick tip parted the opening until it latched onto it fully making him growl softly at the feeling. Her walls were forced to part to accommodate his size when he was finally flushed against her.
Y/N whined at the feeling of being full. “Emmett,” she breathed, her fingers itched to hold onto something, to curl her fingers into it.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear. “You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well.” He murmured, praising her before he started thrusting, dragging his cock back and forth in her cunt.
The couch shifted slightly along with the force of the thrusts Emmett was using. His cock rubbed against the walls of her cunt, eventually rubbing against the spongey spot in her before he used one hand to slither down between their sweaty bodies, touching her cunt.
He was able to wring an orgasm from her with a playful but slightly harsh rubbing on her clit which sent her over the edge with a loud whine.
“You have to pull out,” she mumbled urgently after realizing he did not know she was not on any source of protection. How could she? After the world ended, no one really had the time to be safe especially with sex.
He chuckled hoarsely, “you don’t want my babies?” He asked, a teasing tone in his voice as he said it in her ear. “Don’t want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours with my cum?” 
She whimpered as her walls clenched down on his cock as a response to the idea of him filling her up to the brim with his cum. “We just started this fifteen minutes ago.” She pointed out softly, referring to the moment they crossed the line together.
He pulled his head back to look down at her with stormy eyes, “I know, sweetheart.” He breathed before continuing, “but look where the world is at now, no one is going to say a word when they have more things to worry about. Besides…being pregnant with my babies…well, sweetheart you would look very pretty, not that you weren’t to begin with.”
“What if we don’t work out?” Y/N asked, voicing her fear.
He raked his eyes across her facial expression before peering into her eyes. “All we have to do is try because I meant what I said. You’re mine and I’m not letting you go. Okay?”
She then nodded.
He looked at her to see if there were still any more doubts she had, preparing himself to convince her, but he did see none which made him sigh in relief. “Good because I can’t hold back anymore,” he rumbled before he proceeded to fuck her thoroughly, slamming his cock into her with assertive strength to remind her that she was his.
His balls slapped against her cunt as he thrusted into her forcefully, wanting her to feel everything as he grunted, “my pretty girl.” Followed by, “all mine now.” He groaned into her ear when he felt her walls squeezing around his girth. “So good for me, sweetheart.” His hips began to stutter in an irregular manner indicating his impending orgasm, “I’ll take such good care of you.” He slammed into her as far as he could before spilling into her with a guttural groan.
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